A/N: A snippet of this story (in chapter 2) won first place in the New Love drabbles contest for Platform 9 3/4. With so much love for that small portion, I expanded it into a full length short story. I hope everyone enjoys the Luthur ship as much as I do! Let me know your thoughts on this rare pair.

When Lucius Malfoy learned the Dark Lord had been possessing Quirinus Quirrell that June, it hadn't exactly been a revelation. He had felt his master growing in strength for the entire year. It wasn't outright obvious, his Dark Mark certainly hadn't changed at all from its faded state, rather it was the gnawing pressure of the Imperius Curse taking hold of him again. Its talons gripping deeper into his mind and free will. It was a sensation he'd nearly forgotten, like an itch demanding to be scratched that never would be satisfied.

The feeling resurfaced faintly the summer before his son, Draco, began his matriculation at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, presumably the moment the Dark Lord took possession of Quirrell's body. It came as such a surprise after ten years of peace, Lucius worried he'd been cursed by a Dark Object and went to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for treatment. Nothing was wrong with him, the healer said and sent him home.

As it continued to grow, he told no one, not even his wife. He didn't need his sanity questioned and he absolutely did not want to worry Narcissa with the possible reemergence of the Dark Lord. His return would be her worst nightmare realized.

Eventually Severus Snape updated him in a letter about Quirrell being 'not quite right.' Severus hadn't explicitly stated he could feel the Dark Lord's presence, of course, but the letter's message was clear. Lucius reassured him in a reply that all was fine on his end, but to keep him updated on any findings. Severus' main finding was that Albus Dumbledore was taking insufficient precautions against what he felt was a true threat. Their mutual disapproval of Dumbledore's methods was nothing new.

The last face-to-face interaction Lucius had with the Dark Lord was in the late spring of 1981, just before Draco celebrated his first birthday. He had given him an assignment to be carried out the next year, but when the Dark Lord vanished that Halloween, so too did the pressure the Imperius Curse inflicted upon Lucius. Now with it returned, he found himself at Diagon Alley on a Wednesday in August of 1992, burdened by the irrefutable urge to carry out the last task the Dark Lord had commanded of him.

"This, dear boy, is a weapon from my ancestor, the noble Salazar Slytherin himself." The Dark Lord had said back in 1981, holding up a slim black book. "I've embedded the way to open the Chamber of Secrets inside it. All you must do is find a pureblood headed for Hogwarts who is young and desperate enough to desire a secret friend. That is the person who can carry out the reopening of the chamber. Your task is to find the suitable witch or wizard and give them the diary before term begins."

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius had bowed, unable to refuse anything the Dark Lord asked of him. Admittedly, giving a Dark Object to someone was a dream compared to most of his first tasks when he still had to prove himself to the inner circle back in 1970. His own father wouldn't even vouch for him being worthy of the Dark Lord's trust.

Lucius shuddered at the memories, finally hearing his son's voice in the crowded alley, "Father? Father?"

"What, Draco?" Lucius snapped.

"The bookstore is full of unsavory types. Must we go in now?" Draco asked.

Lucius eyed Flourish & Blotts' gaudy banner: Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography Magical Me today 12:30 – 4:30pm. He had coordinated their trip specifically to coincide with this signing. There would be an exceptional amount of young, desperate people inside.

"Yes, we must. It is our final stop."

"What about my new broom?" Draco's voice hitched.

Lucius ignored him and pushed into the bookstore. Unsavory types indeed, he thought as his eye caught the bright red hair of a Weasley. The further into the store he went, the less young people he saw. Instead it was packed with middle aged women clamoring for a better vantage of that insufferable twat, Gilderoy Lockhart.

Beyond Molly Weasley, the only other obvious pureblood he could spot was Portia Parkinson. Her daughter Pansy was nowhere in sight. Not that she made an excellent candidate for the task, being so obviously connected to his family. Furthermore, her training with Dark Objects presumably matched Draco's and he doubted she would trust the diary enough to empower it.

He retreated, finding Draco cornering none other than Harry Potter at the shop's edge. The infamous lad only just having escaped the flaunting antics of Lockhart. Lucius felt his eyes give a roll. When he'd told Draco to keep an eye on the Potter boy last summer, a fixated obsession was not what he'd intended.

He approached them silently, staying just out of sight behind a bookcase as the youngest Weasley child defended Harry's honor to Draco and his son teased Potter for having a girlfriend. The girl flamed as red as her hair and Lucius noticed her cauldron held a stack of battered first year's books. Like a painful whisper in his head, the Dark Lord's voice rang out, "Young and desperate, dear boy."

All he needed now was a distraction sufficient enough to slip her the diary unnoticed. A ginger boy and bushy haired girl approached, and Lucius surmised they were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger based on their apparent ages and Draco's reports. Ron goaded Draco, who mocked the Weasleys' clear lack of money in return. Sensing correctly Ron was about to attack his son, Lucius came out of his hiding spot just as the Weasley twins approached with their father. He announced to his brood they were leaving the shop and Lucius realized he needed to act quickly.

"Well, well, well—Arthur Weasley."

Arthur tensed at the smooth voice he'd grown to loathe. It represented for him everything unjust in the world. The entire system seemed to bend to Lucius Malfoy, as if he were not culpable of horrendous crimes as a Death Eater. Let off scot-free on claim of the Imperius Curse. To make matters worse, Arthur somehow always found himself in the man's crosshairs. His entire department at the Ministry of Magic had been redistributed at Lucius' bidding, shy for old Perkins who wouldn't have understood changing jobs anyway. It all felt very intentional by now, as if Lucius was obsessed with making his life difficult.

Arthur acknowledged him with a cold nod, "Lucius."

"Busy time for you at the Ministry with all those raids. I do hope they're paying you overtime." Lucius said to lay the setup.

He snatched a well-worn book from the Weasley girl's cauldron to carry out the bait-and-switch, attempting to coax Arthur further into a distracted state by frowning at the book's shabby state, "Clearly not."

This was insufficient, as Arthur barely flinched. Two Muggles approached, scared and clearly belonging to the Granger girl. The Weasleys were proud to be a blood traitors, so Lucius decided to push this angle instead. After obviously assessing the Muggles, he curled his lip with disgust.

He gripped the Weasley girl's book tighter and said, "The company you keep, Arthur, and I thought your family could sink no lower."

Rage flushed Arthur's face a purplish red and Lucius braced himself for the attack he'd successfully orchestrated. Arthur slammed him against a bookcase, showering heavy books on top of them. Lucius winced at the pain, but Arthur appeared to feel nothing. Next thing he knew, Arthur's fist smacked into his eye so hard it immediately swelled. Without thinking, Lucius found his own fist on Arthur's mouth, though with far less force than Arthur had punched him.

Arthur let out a yelp and Lucius saw his signet ring had cut his lip. Before he could move his hand, Arthur's fingers wrapped painfully tight around his wrist and pinned it downward against the bookcase. Arthur gripped his other arm's shoulder, shoving it backwards until Lucius was flat against the bookcase staring up at the tiny trickle of blood seeping from Arthur's bottom lip with utter fascination.

With Arthur panting, Lucius could smell the sweetness of Butterbeer rolling off his breath so strongly he could almost taste it. Arthur's eyes bore into him, pupils tight with malice. Something swelled inside Lucius that he'd been suppressing since his father's arrest in 1968 and he relaxed beneath Arthur, so the man would fall closer to him. Their chests touched, and Arthur inhaled sharply. When Lucius looked back into his eyes, the pupils had widened.

They stayed like that, hearts pounding hard enough to vibrate against the other man's rib cage, their eyes trapped in each other's gaze, until Hagrid ripped them apart.

As if a window snapped shut, Lucius was back in his present mind, the Dark Lord's whispers reminding him what needed to be done. In the subsequent chaos, he slipped the thin diary inside the battered textbook and shoved it into the Weasley girl's hands. He heard himself coherently insult her father but had no idea what he'd actually said as he swept from the bookstore, Draco in tow.

The task was done for now and he once again free from the pressure the curse induced within him. As soon as it was gone, the pain from his bruised eye became apparent and he rushed Draco home, so he could mend it and consume a stiff drink. Two firewhiskys in, he found himself licking his bottom lip in the spot he'd cut Arthur. Heaving a sigh, he forced himself to go for a walk in the garden to clear his mind. Their interaction had impacted him far more than he'd anticipated, and all he could think of was if it had affected Arthur so much as well.

Citation: Dialogue between Arthur and Lucius in this chapter taken from Chamber of Secrets, "Floursh and Blotts" written by J.K. Rowling.