Please note the warnings: dubious consent, emotional manipulation, brain-washing, mild character bashing, slash, infidelity, and cliches.

Harry

Harry Potter opened his eyes on his second birthday and smiled. It was the kind of smile one associated with loan sharks, and lawyers, and as such if anyone had been there to see it they would, frankly, have been terrified. Today would be the day Harry said his first word to his aunt and uncle, and that word would be 'Imperio'.

Harry lived a quiet life. He and his cousin were doted upon equally and the entire town of Little Whinging cooed over how sweet and polite they were. Dudley learnt manners, and never bullied anyone, unless they threatened his smaller brother, and of course vice versa. Harry excelled in all areas and could often be found in the local library. Dudley was never going to be as intelligent as Harry, but Harry helped him, and so neither of their grades were lacking.

Occasionally a handsome man visited Diagon Alley. He petitioned for the magical guardianship of Harry Potter and won, stunning the wizarding community. He was the son of Lily Evan's uncle, and as such, Harry's cousin. He had the same startling green eyes, but brown mousey hair that fell to his cheek bones. With this revelation, it became apparent Lily Evans was a half-blood, and thus Harry Potter was a first-generation pure blood, to the intrigue of many.

One day, there was a break in at the ministry, but like all good robberies, nobody knew about it. Nobody apart from one eight-year-old boy, whose proud acquisition was a time turner. From that day on Harry Potter could be found in Diagon Alley with his magical guardian, eating ice cream and reading all the books he could get his hands on.

"Ravenclaw, for sure," people would tell him, and Harry smiled, happy with the knowledge that there was no way the hat would allow him to be sorted into Ravenclaw, however much he might wish. There was only one place that this Harry Potter would go.

Dumbledore, it seemed, was using his old wand again. When people asked about it he brushed off their questions, but Harry knew why.

Harry slowly collected pieces of Tom Riddles soul, including the one he extracted from his scar, which faded as the years passed. He had the cup, the locket and the ring stored in a Muggle safety deposit box. Next was the diary, and he decided to make his visit to the Malfoys' memorable.

Lucius

Lucius woke the moment the curse hit. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do a thing. An angelic looking boy peered down at him curiously. He had big green eyes that ensnared his gaze, and then he couldn't look away.

"Hello," the boy said and stroked his cheek gently.

Lucius could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The manor wards were still intact, which begged the question: how had this child gotten in? He appeared to be Draco's age, but there was something terrifyingly old hidden in the depths of his gaze. A vampire, perhaps? Narcissa was still asleep next to him, breathing quietly. The boy pulled the bed covers further down and brushed the pad of his thumb over the Dark Mark.

"This will be gone soon," the boy said, and the Mark shivered under his touch. Lucius wanted to flinch away, to run screaming in the opposite direction to this devil.

"And after that, you'll have to pick a side."

Lucius realised the boy was holding the book that the Dark Lord had entrusted to him in his other hand. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

"I hope you pick mine." The boy tucked him back in and walked out the room. Moments later the spell was released and Lucius jumped out of bed and grasped his wand, panting. He quickly glanced at Narcissa, who was still asleep. Good. It wouldn't do to worry her. He scoured the house, looking for the boy, searching for evidence that he had existed. Finally, nervously, he checked the library. Where once had sat the Dark Lord's possession was an envelope. The sentence 'Do try not to spoil Draco so much' was written in elegant calligraphy on the letter inside. Lucius sank into an armchair, hand pressed against his chest in an attempt to quell his pounding heart.

He was doomed.

Lucius

It was the 1st September at 10.45, and Draco was bouncing with excitement. Lucius glanced around cautiously. Ever since the break in three years ago he'd been on edge, expecting the return of the Dark Lord, or the rise of another. He wasn't sure which prospect was more terrifying.

Lucius narrowed his eyes into mage sight, inspecting the magical cores of each person and child, checking out the competition, so to speak. A flash of light caught his eye and he turned to see the largest magical core he'd ever encountered. Larger than his own, larger than Dumbledore's, larger, even, than the Dark Lord's. He blinked and as the mage sight faded away he realised who he was staring at. There sat Harry Potter. Even worse, as the child stared back at him, he realised that those green eyes were the ones that haunted him in his nightmares. His magical core was enormous and it hadn't even finished growing.

Lucius' hand shook as he clasped Draco's shoulder.

"Draco," he whispered. His son looked up at him, so innocent and naïve.

"It is of great import that you do not offend Harry Potter," Lucius said. Draco rolled his eyes and Lucius realised his son was spoilt, despite the warning he'd been given and tried to ignore.

"Listen to me," he hissed. "He is powerful, and dangerous. Either befriend him, or leave him alone. Do you understand?"

Draco shrugged his hand away.

"Yes father," Draco said and Lucius could only hope he'd listen. "See you at Christmas." He waved at the Zabini child and dashed away.

Harry

Harry sat on the stool and the sorting hat was placed on his head.

"Oh my," the hat said.

'Any chance you'll place me in Ravenclaw?' Harry asked. The hat laughed. Aloud. The stares and whispers solidified.

"Nice try. Only one place for you, as you very well know. It'll be… SLYTHERIN."

Harry walked over the Slytherin table, ignoring the shocked glares of the entire school and the polite but confused cheers of his House. He seated himself next to Daphne Greengrass. The sorting continued, and he watched the Professors. Snape seemed to be flickering between smug and bemused, while McGonagall looked like she might have a nervous breakdown. Dumbledore seemed to be impassive, however Harry knew better. Quirrell, and thus Voldemort, glared at him. The sorting finished as Blaise Zabini seated himself next to Harry and the necessary introductions were made.

"So," Draco began, as soon as was acceptable. "What did you say to that hat?" The rest of his House and a few Ravenclaws hushed and tried to look like they weren't listening in.

"I told it a joke," Harry replied, a smirk firmly fixed upon his face. Everyone seemed infuriated with his reply, but at least knew not to inquire further. It was considered rude to ask about something as private as one's conversation with the hat.

Well. Nearly everyone knew not to inquire further.

"What joke?" Draco asked. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"A personal one," he said.

"Tell me," Draco demanded. A second year next to Draco tried to nudge him to shut him up, but was ignored.

"No."

"Do you know who my father is?" Draco drawled. Harry snorted with laughter and a few others joined in. Draco looked distinctly perturbed as he realised that they were not on his side. Harry ignored him, and began a conversation with Daphne about Quidditch, while the second year quietly told Draco off.

Draco owled his father and the scorching reply he received frightened him into submission.

Harry

Harry Potter was the perfect pupil. He was studious, intelligent, and consistently the first to perform spells. He helped other students with their homework, and was polite to everyone. He was generous with both time and money. He formed a study group out of the most intelligent students in his year,and they were devoted to him. It was no surprise that when a troll was found in the dungeons, and Hermione Granger was discovered absent, Harry Potter was standing between her and the beast, a rudimentary shield spell preventing them from being injured.

Three days later the Philosopher's Stone was missing and Quirrell was dead. Also found were three items belonging to the Founders, returned to the school, and missing their soul pieces. Harry kept the Resurrection Stone and he'd happily burnt the diary. On that same day the Dark Mark faded from the Death Eater's arms and would never return.

Harry paid a visit to each of those Death Eaters, bar the traitorous one, and ensured they would stay in line. Unfortunately for them they were gifted with a new mark, a basilisk that curled around their ankles like a monitor, green the colour of the killing curse, or perhaps the colour of Harry Potter's eyes.

One day Peter Pettigrew walked into the DMLE, confessed his crimes, and killed himself. Sirius Black was released and placed in psychiatric rehabilitation. Harry refused to be adopted, but in the summer, they spent weekends together. Sirius was devoted to his godson.

At the end of each year Harry beat the previous high scores and the press had a field day about the genius child prodigy they thought him to be. Harry's study group expanded, and the most promising pupils in Hogwarts were part of it. No one suspected a thing. No one that mattered.

Cedric Diggory won the Triwizard Tournament (with Harry's help). The day he'd turned seventeen was the day he was marked. He was Harry's first voluntary follower. The Weasley Twins soon followed. Harry's mark, for the followers he liked, was an invisible bracelet. It warmed when he summoned them. They mainly used it as a way of finding each other during the holidays.

Harry and Draco had spent that year bonding over the irritancy that was Ronald Weasley and so in the summer between fourth and fifth year Harry visited Malfoy Manor.

Lucius

Harry Potter sat in his parlour, smiling condescendingly at Draco. His son smiled adoringly back.

Lucius tried not to shiver. Despite the advantages that might come if his son won the favour of the rising Dark Lord, he knew that a position as 'consort' could easily be abused. It had happened last time, after all.

He glanced at his bare forearm. Lord Voldemort was finally gone and would not be coming back, all because of the boy seated before him. He was not foolish enough to think otherwise. It had been three years since the Mark had faded and he was still coming to terms with its implications.

He'd mentioned to Severus, quietly one evening, that perhaps Harry Potter wasn't as Light as he seemed. That was as far as his ankle monitor allowed him to push. Severus had laughed, actually laughed, and then given him an antidote for several mind-altering potions. So far it appeared that the boy had done nothing, but he was consolidating power. He had the children of all the politically important families in his pocket. Diggory had won the Triwizard Cup and Draco claimed that it was all thanks to Harry. What he once would have believed as pointless bragging was more likely an understatement, as Draco likely wouldn't have even seen the depth of Potter's machinations.

"Do we know who will be teaching Defence next year?" Potter asked with a frown, interrupting Lucius' musings.

"I've heard rumours about Delores Umbridge," he replied. It seemed that Fudge grew ever warier of Dumbledore's influence. Potter's eyes flashed.

"Draco, would you mind grabbing that list of competent replacement teachers we compiled earlier?" Potter said. Draco was up and out of his seat before Potter had even finished the sentence. Potter dropped all pretence as he smirked at Lucius, Draco gone from the room.

"Umbridge is unacceptable. In fact, it might be better for her to be reassigned away from the Ministry, permanently," Potter said. He looked dangerous and far older than his youthful fourteen. The pure power he exuded when he uncaged it was intoxicating. It was currently whirling around his shoulders, a contrast to Potter's calm exterior.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius murmured, galled to be addressing a teenager as such, but knowing that he was outmanoeuvred at every turn. Potter reined his power in just before Draco burst back in. He passed the slip of parchment over to Lucius before retaking his seat, sitting slightly too close to Potter for Lucius's liking.

Potter stretched, placing his arms along the back of the sofa as he spoke. Lucius eyed the long length of his arm behind Draco's back.

"We've had a pretty disastrous track record with Defence teachers. So, we thought we'd form a list of those who could take the position. Moody was far too paranoid to be teaching Defence, even if he hadn't fallen ill."

Lucius nodded, inspecting the list of names.

"He had it in for me," Draco added, disgruntled, and Lucius couldn't help but wonder what exactly Alistair Moody had fallen ill with. Potter's grin stretched wider.

"I guess it's a good thing he won't be teaching us next year then." He smirked, confirming Lucius' suspicions. At least Potter looked after his own, rather than cursing them.

"Indeed." The suggestions were sound, and now that the curse on the position had been broken – Lupin had lasted two years as a Professor before being outed as a werewolf – he wanted the best for his son. They'd already removed Binns as History Professor, Trelawney as Divination, and Lucius had his suspicions about Quirrell's downfall.

"Fancy a fly?" Potter asked Draco, who beamed. Potter brushed his hand along the back of Draco's neck and clasped his shoulder.

"Come along, my dragon," he said. Draco flushed, glancing away as he stood. Potter smirked at Lucius, evidently aware of the effect he had.

Lucius watched as they chased the snitch. His son was exceptional, of course, but Potter was something else, born to fly. He blinked and pocketed the list of names. He had business to take care of.

Harry

Seventh year approached. Harry had numerous marked followers. Many were travelling the world, supported by his funds, promising to bring him treasures and exotic spells. He was a regular customer of the goblins, and had made several profitable investments. After all, knowledge of the future was very financially advantageous, not to mention a rogue Philosopher's Stone.

Frankly, he'd consolidated power, but was still debating what to do with it. He was leaning toward creating a second Atlantis, a safe haven away from Muggles. It didn't always work, but when it did… he forced himself to stop reminiscing and focused upon the present.

He'd awoken on his seventeenth birthday as his magic whipped around him, gaining his magical inheritance, like he had with every life he'd lived, growing strong with each regeneration. Today he'd decided to stop hiding his strength and claim the excess power had arrived on his birthday.

A small pulse of magic alerted him that one of his marked had entered his property; Lucius. He'd moved out of Private Drive today into a townhouse that had pleased him. It was big, but not unnecessarily so. More importantly, it meant true independence.

Draco stared at him starry eyed when he greeted the Malfoys.

"Your power," he whispered. Harry greeted him with a nod and ignored Draco's flush. He'd not unduly encouraged, nor discouraged Draco's crush on him. It was useful, without being smothering. Hilariously, Draco still believed he was unaware of it.

"Lucius," he said, with a smirk playing upon his face. He shook the man's hand and he looked just as flushed as Draco. He brushed his thumb over the back of the man's knuckles.

"My- Mr Potter. Happy birthday," he said, silver eyes wide.

Harry's magic embraced them as he welcomed them in, showing them the house. Draco removed himself to the bathroom, likely needing a moment to compose himself. Harry stepped closer to Lucius, who stepped back.

"Your magical inheritance, my Lord?"

Harry nodded, smug. He stepped again and could see Lucius forcing himself to stay still.

"I'm not hiding it anymore." He placed a hand on Lucius' chest. His heart was pounding.

"Scared?" he asked, eyes flickering over the angles of Lucius' face. "Or something else, perhaps?"

Lucius flushed again and Harry smirked before removing himself as Draco drew closer. He took a seat, indicating for the Malfoys to join him.

"The others will be along soon, for the party," he told them. He took pity on them and withdrew his magic, settling it around his shoulders like a cloak.

"I could feel your magic?" Draco asked, obviously bewildered. Harry let Lucius explain. He had the power. He just needed to decide what to use it for. The future was within his grasp.

Harry

Harry had plans. Great plans. His eyes flickered over parchment in his hand detailing his N.E.W.T. scores. All Outstanding, nothing unexpected. He composed a note to his followers in his year, pretending to care about their scores, and sent the letters off. They were portkeys to bring them to his safe house. Today was the day he was marking his most faithful. He lounged in his practical 'battle ready gear', his usual outfit of dragon hide and tailored robes. He'd not been caught unawares in centuries and he wouldn't allow complacency to get the better of him.

Hermione was the first, the portkey triggered upon the culmination of her reading the letter. She grinned upon arrival.

"Bastard," she muttered fondly. "Is everything set up?"

He nodded and she seated herself at his left side, leaving the right for Draco, who'd just arrived and joined them wordlessly.

Neville, Dean, Blaise, Daphne, Susan, Padma and Hannah completed them. They exchanged pleasantries and he was impressed to see that they were all dressed appropriately for the situation and that none had been surprised by his impromptu summoning.

"My friends," he began, his voice low and seductive, laced with magic. "We have spent our childhood excelling beyond our peers. We are superior, not because we were born with a silver spoon in our mouths, but because we devoted ourselves to the calling of magic. Each of us has a unique ability to wield magic like none have done before, and that is why you, my most intelligent and faithful, are the ones sitting here today.

I believe that together it is our responsibility to share our knowledge, and improve the world we find ourselves in. But there is one problem." He sighed.

"The Muggles, as we have discussed, are advancing far beyond our own technological capabilities, and despite our devotion to the improvement of the Wizarding World I do not think we can hide from them forever. I can only imagine the disastrous results of Muggles discovering magic on a wide spread basis." He held up a hand to stall Hermione's defence of her parents and their kind.

"I am not suggesting this gives us the right to attack them like many others have planned to before. No, I am suggesting something different. A haven, created by ourselves, our very own Atlantis." He could feel Draco vibrating with enthusiasm beside him, and the rest were nearly as intrigued.

"Already I have asked some of my older friends to search for ancient magics that can help save our world. I am now asking if you would like to join them, and me, in liberating us from oppression. I see a world where children practise in the streets of a city paved by magic. I see a world where no one is ridiculed for lack of Wizarding culture, because everyone will have been raised a Wizard. Can you help me realise this world?"

They gazed at him, slavishly devoted.

"Yes," someone whispered.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco murmured, dropping to one knee. Harry stroked Draco's cheek bone with one finger.

"My beautiful dragon," he said. He knew the others, especially those with links to Voldemort's reign, would be unsure of such a display. This would be the turning point. Draco's eyes were bright and filled with awe. His magic swirled about the room, embracing his friends. He took Draco's wrist.

"There's a piece of magic I've invented that will let me find you, or allow you to find me if you are ever in distress. It leaves no visible mark, but you may feel a slight warmth around your wrist," he said, eyes only on Draco. Draco nodded, grinning. Harry traced the pale skin, fingers brushing over the blue veins, and whispered the spell. He imbued the invisible tracker with his magic, hiding it from all but him, and marking Draco as his.

"Stand," he said. Draco did, and they turned to face the rest of the group. As one the dropped to their knees.

"Me next," Hermione demanded, "my Lord," she said in a coyly mocking manner, but he could feel the undertone of respect.

Harry marked them all and they loved him for it.

"If you're ever in danger, think of me as your Lord, and I will find you. I will not permit anyone to harm you." His eyes flashed. He could see the respect in their eyes, the slight wariness, and the awe.

"Now, I'm sure you have many things to do to prepare for your careers and the rest of your lives. Keep a ready ear for sympathisers and make me proud. Well," he laughed, smiling fondly. "Even prouder." He nodded regally. "You may go."

Harry caught Draco's wrist before the man could leave. The room emptied as the rest of his followers left.

"You were wonderful," he told his right hand. He stroked the palm of Draco's hand, up his wrist and along his veins, where once a Dark Mark might have been. His magic pulled the outer layer of Draco's robe off him and he stepped closer, pining him against the wall.

"Mm… my Lord?" Draco stuttered. Harry ran his hand down Draco's chest, enjoying the feel of the hard planes beneath endless layers, his magic echoing his desire and unbuttoning it as he went.

"Draco. Darling. My dragon. Did you really think I hadn't noticed those long looks you graced me with?" He undulated his hips against Draco, who was flushed and panting and hard against him, and the man whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut. Harry kissed Draco, taking everything he had to offer, breathing in Draco's gasps and sighs.

"Do you want me?" he asked. Draco was the picture of sinful delight, and Harry shivered, desire curling in his belly. He'd waited a very long time to take advantage of this beauty.

"Always," Draco rasped. Harry smiled.

Lucius

Draco had been summoned by portkey and Lucius tried not to pace, to worry. He'd wanted to discourage his son from taking the same path that he had, but reluctantly accepted that the boy's fate had been sealed the moment Harry Potter had been sorted into Slytherin. Perhaps even earlier than that.

There was a crack of Apparition that told him Draco had returned from what he suspected had been his initiation. He walked into the hallway, trying to appear as if merely curious. He winced upon seeing Draco. His son was glowing, a smile playing across his face. His clothing was in disarray and hair tousled. His cheeks were flushed and his lips looked bitten. His entire appearance screamed 'well fucked' and Lucius suspected that was exactly what had happened.

"Father," Draco said, upon seeing him standing there gormlessly. His voice was raw as if… well, Lucius didn't want to think about it. Not in the context of his son.

"You seem well," he said, cringing at the idiocy of his words. He didn't know what Lord Potter would do if he got the impression Lucius disapproved, or was trying to interfere.

Actually, he could imagine Lord Potter laughing it off, as if he wasn't worth taking notice of, but that almost made it worse, although he could admit he wasn't a threat. The Marks made sure of that. One around the ankle that marked him as an ex-servant of Lord Voldemort, the ink imbued with basilisk poison that would infiltrate their bloodstream upon betrayal, and one around his wrist that marked him as Lord Potter's, invisible but binding nonetheless.

"I am well." Draco stroked his wrist. "My Lord has marked us, and we are going to change the world." He was so happy, so young, so naïve. Lucius could only hope Lord Potter would be more merciful than Voldemort had been.

"Congratulations," he said. "If you will excuse me, I have some business to take care of." He fled to his study, shutting the door and leaning against it with his eyes closed.

"Hello Lucius."

He froze. He opened his eyes. Lounging in his favourite armchair was Lord Potter. Objectively Lucius could see how his son had fallen for him. Lord Potter was Dark, handsome, and devilishly clever. He exuded power and it was a high unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

"My Lord," he croaked. He tried to move forward but found himself pinned against the door. He tried not to panic. Lord Potter waved his hand and heavily warded the room like it was nothing, like that wouldn't exhaust a wizard using his wand, let alone wandlessly.

"I realise you have your reservations," Lord Potter said, and as Lucius began to speak wiggled his fingers and silenced him. He stood, drawing closer, too close, placing a hand on his chest where his heart was pounding.

"You're terrified of me," he observed, smug, and yet mildly incredulous. His smile turned wicked, strangely reminiscent of their first encounter as he moved his hand slowly further down. "And you like it." His voice was vicious, brushing over Lucius's straining cock that he had desperately been trying to ignore. Lord Potter's magic caressed him and he felt light headed with pleasure. Lord Potter's hand teased him through the slacks he wore.

"You'll behave?" he asked, seemingly unaffected. Lucius opened his mouth, paused, then nodded.

"Playing with you really is quite fun," Lord Potter said, pressing the heel of his hand against Lucius' cock. Lucius closed his eyes and was glad for the silencing charm that hid his moan.

"Look at me," Lord Potter snapped. Lucius forced his eyes open and shuddered as Lord Potter's magic pulled him over the edge, staring into those blazing green eyes as he came. Lord Potter released the spell holding him up and he sank to his knees, panting, humiliated and scared and still utterly turned on.

"Thank you, my Lord," Lucius said, and when he looked up, Lord Potter was gone.

The residue of his magic remained, however, and Lucius knew that his true reign had only just begun.