This story is disturbing as hell. It's supposed to be. I wrote the Aftermaths series first, and those were almost pure artistic stuff...well, read the author's notes to them. And as you notice, there's a vague and bare mention that Lucius was sleeping with his son in there. At the time I wrote these, I was in a relationship with a friend, whom I call Mulder for his persistent belief in all things metaphysical and alien and such. It was not a good relationship. It was built on lies and deception, and there was a very strong element of addiction on my side, not just to what he did but how he did it. So I wrote this at least in part to purge that seething mess of hopelessness and anger and lust that came up every time I thought about him. I think it made a good fic, though. And isn't that the point?
back to the story
back to Harry Potter fanfiction
back home