It Was Never Meant To be Like

This
By: FanboyPhaedrus

An emotionally complex Draco Malfoy is coerced into a relationship he's

not sure he's ready for, and one he's sure he shouldn't want. Torn between
lust and fear, does Draco need to be saved from Lord Voldemort, or from
himself?But as time goes by, the Dark Lord himself comes to realise that he
got more than he bargained for when he seduced his little play thing.

Status: complete

Published: 2015-08-28

Words: 161539

Chapters: 69

Rated: Fiction M - Language: English - Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort -

Characters: [Draco M., Voldemort] Harry P., Severus S. - Reviews: 58 -
Favs: 308 - Follows: 108

Original source: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11475566/1/It-Was-Never-

Meant-To-be-Like-This

Exported with the assistance of FicHub.net

It Was Never Meant To be Like This
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 1
Writers Notes:

Voldemort/Draco Slash Fan Fiction. Maybe a little 'tamer' than

much of what's out there for this pairing, Voldemort could be
considered 'off character' in that he isn't torturously cruel to Draco,
(simply because that's not how I get my rocks off!) That said, he's
not exactly buying him roses either. Draco is kind of emotionally
complicated, he's sort of true to character on the surface but there's
a lot going on underneath.

LV/DM slash. Mature content, descriptions of various sexual acts. If

you don't like male/male sex DON'T READ THIS. Could be
described as Dubious Consent, although I wouldn't consider any of it
non-con.

There is angst, mild violence, mentions of non-con sex between

Voldemort and un-named characters. There is also humour, a
sexually curious Harry, a nice-guy-at-heart Snape, and much, much,
much SMUT . Many of the chapters can be read as One-Shots, but
there is a narrative and it makes more sense and builds up more if
you read them in order.

This is my first attempt at writing Fan Fiction, in fact, writing anything.

It does appear on another site where it was uploaded chapter by
chapter as I wrote it. I'm sharing here for readers on this site who
might be looking for this pairing.

I have no one to proof read for me, so although I have tried to proof
read it myself, I apologise for any typos and spelling mistakes. I'd
love to know what you think, although I admit I'm mostly writing it for
my own perverse enjoyment! It's quite a long fic, but the 'action'
starts pretty much right away.

And of course, I don't own any of the characters and all that. Enjoy!
Fanboy Phaedrus. x

The air was warm and balmy, despite the room being below ground
level, bewitched sunlight streamed in through the arch shaped
dormitory window, that Thursday afternoon. The room was practically
deserted as the students were in class, all but for two forth year
boys, in a state of undress, tangled in each other's embrace on one
of the 4 poster beds.

Both boys were exceptionally beautiful, one dark skinned and

muscular, with deep brown eyes and a strong face, the other, pale as
porcelain, with delicate features, cool grey eyes and striking white
blond hair. This was not the first time Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy
had ducked out of class to amuse themselves in their own 'extra-
curricular' activities. It was only 'Muggle Studies' they were missing,
and neither of them cared very much about that.

They had been there for nearly an hour now, and it seemed they
were hopelessly lost in each other's mouths. Blaze's dark lips
pressed firmly over Draco's soft pink ones, they explored each other
with their tongues. It was not a new or unfamiliar situation for them,
but one that continued to be diverting enough to skip classes for.

They had been laying side by side for some time, kissing, and
caressing naked flesh, but now Blaise had decided it was time to
step things up a gear. The stronger and more well-built of the two, he
pounced onto Draco, flipping him onto his back and getting between
his slender legs. Forcefully, he pushed his hips against Draco,
grinding their erect cocks against one another. Draco gasped with
pleasure and Blaise lowered his lips to Draco's once more and bit his
lower lip, gently at first and them more roughly as he thrust up
against him.

'Gods, Draco! I really wanna fuck you!' Blaise whispered into Draco's
mouth.

'I bet you do!' Thought Draco. It was time to end this little dalliance,
as fucking was not on the cards this afternoon as far as Draco was
concerned.

Blaise had shifted his position so that his cock was pressed up
against Draco's entrance and he pushed against him hopefully.
Draco always said no, but today he might be lucky?

Draco moved away, giving Blaise a reproachful and haughty look.

Blaise knew the score. Fooling around was fine, but Draco had
always drawn the line very clearly, full on sex was off limits. Blaise
jerked away from him and sat on the edge of the bed.

'You're a fucking tease, Malfoy, you know that?' He said crossly.

Draco half laughed. 'I'm sorry, Blaise.' He drawled. He wasn't sorry at

all. He moved round behind his friend and reached over his
shoulders to feel his torso, and began to kiss and bite at his neck.

Blaise, who was sulking, had half a mind to shrug Draco off, but he
liked the way he kissed and couldn't push him away in spite of
himself. Draco moved slowly round in front of Blaise and knelt on the
floor. He looked up at him with smouldering bedroom eyes.

'I'm not gonna let you fuck me, but I don't want to leave you
completely unsatisfied.' Draco said in a silky voice. Blaise tried to
maintain his dejected expression, but felt himself caving as Draco
reached for his dick.

Draco pressed his lips to the end of Blaise's cock and worked them
there for a moment before taking the head into his mouth. Blaise
melted completely and sighed as he watched Draco's pretty pink lips
encircle his erection, he moaned and let his head roll back.

He didn't really resent Draco for withholding sex. After all, sex was a
far bigger deal to Draco than it was to him. Blaise knew it. He himself
was more than happy to fool around and have some fun with boys in
his teenage years, and really, what better boy than Draco Malfoy?
Well bred, aristocratic, pretty, delicate, pale… Why, from this angle,
and probably from others too, he could almost be a slim and delicate
girl, Blaise thought to himself. Blaise would fool around with him now,
but after they left school he would settle down and marry a model, or
even a Veela perhaps. He would have beautiful family and a perfect
life. But Draco, well, it was clear Draco was gay all the way. It was to
Blaise anyway. Poor little Draco would one day have to tell his
parents he liked boys more than girls, and although same-sex
relationships were generally no big deal in the wizarding world, to the
likes of Lucius Malfoy they probably were! Draco's virginity was not
something he would give away lightly on a sunny afternoon in the
dormitory to his friend at the end of their 4th year at Hogwarts.

But it was just fine, as Draco gave spectacular head, and Blaise had
been on the receiving end of this before. He allowed himself to
dissolve into ecstasy as Draco took the full length of his cock into his
eager mouth. Blaise reached down and rested his hand on the back
of Draco's head, entwining his fingers in Draco's blond hair. Feeling
his climax approaching he gripped Draco's hair tightly and forced
him into the rhythm he needed to reach orgasm. It was a matter of
moments before he came, shooting his load straight into Draco's
mouth. Draco continued to suck him until his dick had finished
throbbing and then he pulled away. Draco swallowed, he was too
well-bred to spit.

It was just at that moment that the dormitory door burst open and
Goyle stumbled in. Blaise jumped, and cursed himself for not
remembering a to cast a spell to lock the door.

'Malfoy, Zabini, professor Snape was looking for…' Goyle took in the
scene before him, Draco on his knees in front of a naked Blaise
Zabini. 'Oh, Err… Sorry!' He said, and left instantly, slamming the
door behind him.

'Fuck!' Said Blaise, as he pulled on his trousers and sat back on the
bed, leaning against the pillow. Draco was relaxed, however. He
stretched and reached for his own clothes, and put on his trousers.

'I wouldn't worry about it.' He said as he sat down and reached for a
cigarette. He offered one to Blaise. 'I doubt he even knew what was
going on. I don't see Goyle getting much action, do you?'

Blaise laughed as he leant over and offered Draco a light. The two
boys sat together on the bed and smoked peppermint cigarettes,
Blaise relaxing in a post orgasmic chill. He seemed to have forgotten
that he had done nothing to get Draco off. ' Selfish bastard!' thought
Draco affectionately.

'Got plans for the holidays?' Asked Draco conversationally.

'Yeah.' Said Blaise. 'South of France.'

'Nice.' Said Draco, as he drew on the cigarette.

'What about you?' Blaise asked. Their conversation betrayed no

emotion, they could just have finished a game of tennis rather than
an hour long make out session. This was why Draco was so perfect,
thought Blaise.

'I don't know.' Said Draco. 'I know Father has a lot on with, umm,
work at the moment, but Mother and I might go away somewhere. I
just hope it's not too dull!'

'I suppose we should go and see what Snape wants' Said Blaise
coolly.

'Probably wants' to know why we were missing classes.' Draco said,

finishing his cigarette. 'You got a good excuse, or should I think of
one?'
Chapter 2
The school term ended with a melancholy tone. The Hufflepuff boy
had been killed in the final of the Tri-Wizard tournament and Potter
had started up rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had
returned. Draco did not know whether he believed this or not, but
knew he would find out on his return home, as his Fathers
association with Voldemort was a long standing one. The students
were unhappy, and scared as they left to catch the Hogwarts
Express. Draco was scared too, although he would never admit it.
His Father was in league with Voldemort, and had always boasted
that the Dark Lords return could mean only good things for the
Malfoy family, but Draco was unsure. He always had been, unsure,
about many things. Although, however unconvinced he was about
the rightness of the Dark Lords agenda, Draco was very much
Lucius's son, and as such, he never betrayed his feelings or
emotions. He had been trained in this skill from an early age. Even
when he arrived at Hogwarts in the first year, he was accomplished
enough in Occlumency to shield his mind from just about anyone,
and proficient enough in Legilimency to get a good grasp of the
emotions of others without too much effort.

Draco's apprehension did not show on the surface as he strutted and

crowed, jeering at the other students on the train journey home,
earning Crabbe, Goyle and himself a few nasty hexes in retaliation.
Somehow, trivial conflict with Potter and his Gryffindor buddies
helped Draco to feel at ease and to ignore the creeping feeling he
was increasingly experiencing, that the last bright days of summer
were now over.

Draco spent much of the holiday away from home, with his Mother.
Voldemort's return had been evident from the moment he arrived,
the atmosphere at Malfoy Manor was tense and fearful, confirming
Draco's doubts. His Father was not keen to elaborate on the reasons
why the Dark Lord's return was not causing them to joyously
celebrate, and Draco knew better than to ask. Lucius desired that his
wife and son be away from the house as much as possible and
packed them off to Northern Italy for the majority of summer. Draco
did his best to enjoy a lazy summer after a hasty, flustered departure
from home only a week after he arrived.

He overheard his mother arguing with his father in the fire towards
the end of the holiday…

'We can't just hide in Italy for ever, Lucius!' His mother had protested.

'You CAN NOT come home yet, Narcissa!' He heard his father's
voice crackling through the fire. 'HE is here, he's using the manor a
good deal at the moment. I don't want you and Draco to be around
him any more than necessary at this stage!'

'Perhaps you should have thought about that before.' Hissed

Narcissa. 'Draco is a smart boy, he knows something is wrong, and I
need to get him to London to get his school things soon.' She
continued in a calmer tone.

'I seem to remember, you wanted this allegiance with the Dark Lord
as much as I did in the early days.' Lucius responded to Narcissa's
accusative comment. 'Bring Draco home next week. He will have to
stay out of the way as much as possible and then once he's back at
school we can try to arrange a more convenient situation. The Dark
Lord may well find somewhere else to work from.'

Draco slunk back to his room at this point. He and his mother would
be going home next week to the cold and cheerless house they had
left behind. Back to his nervous and agitated Father. Draco knew it
was not wise to be around his Father when his moods were bad.
Draco had learnt this the hard way from an early age.

The next day, he put on his most confident expression, walked with
his usual swagger and tried to take his mind off his concerns by
indulging in his brief summer romance with a young Italian wizard he
had met at the beach.
Draco was glad he had enjoyed himself while he could, as back at
the manor things were worse than he had expected. His Father tried
put a brave face on things, even in front of his wife and son, as he
talked about how the family was in great favour with the Dark Lord,
and how honoured they should feel by his presence each time he
visited their home. He told them both how delighted he was to have
risen so high in the Dark Lords esteem. Draco knew his Father was
lying, but had to admit, he was getting more convincing with time.

Draco had been ordered to his room. This meant only one thing.
Voldemort was in their house, talking with his father. Draco lay on his
bed, staring up at the ornate plaster ceiling. It was not fair that he
had to stay up here for so long, it seemed that Voldemort had spent
more time at Malfoy Manor than Draco had this summer and Draco
resented being sent to hide out of sight. ' Are my parents ashamed
of me?' He wondered angrily. Did they think he would show them up,
get them in trouble? They should know him better, they had raised
him well, and he was 15 years old. There was no reason why he
should have to be shut up in his room like this. He wanted a glimpse
of Voldemort. Potter claimed to have seen him, and Voldemort was
here, in this house, right now and Draco was told to hide in his room
like a little child! Draco's chain of thought had worked him up into an
uncharacteristic fury which he could not control. Without further
thought he jumped up from him bed and stormed out of his room,
barefoot, hair falling about his face, the top two buttons of his shirt
undone and a flush of colour to his pale cheeks.

He flounced down the stairs, with the intention of listening outside of

his father's study, as he assumed that was where the meeting was
taking place. His mind still crowded with angry thoughts, he turned
the corner of the hallway by the dining room and walked straight into
a tall, imposing figure clad all in black. Draco could have sworn his
heart actually stopped beating at that moment.

Voldemort was a good few inches taller than Draco and a much
boarded build. His face was partly hidden by the hood of his cloak
but Draco could clearly see his piercing red eyes fixing him to the
spot as they stared at him. Draco had not known fear like this before.
Voldemort was clearly not quite human, his skin was a grey-ish tone
and his breath, Draco could feel, was cold.

Draco fought for composure. He was now aware of both of his

parents, along with some other people he did not know, standing
behind Voldemort, having exited the dining room immediately after
him. His parents looked terrified. He imagined his Father would have
been angry that he had left his room, but there was nothing like
anger on his face now. Draco stepped back and opened his mouth to
apologise, now painfully aware of his bare feet and his open shirt.

'I'm… errrr, Sorry. Sorry, I didn't…' He tried to say, but Voldemort

silenced him with a hiss.

He raised a cold grey hand and rested it on Draco's shoulder firmly

as if to stop him from running away. With his other hand he pushed
the hood of his cloak back so as to get a better look at the young
man who had just charged into him. Draco's fear doubled when he
saw Voldemort's face with its skull like definition, no hair and serpent
features. Draco wondered if he would be killed on the spot, but
Voldemort spoke, glancing over his shoulder at Lucius…

'Your son, I presume, Lucius…?' He said in a cool, collected hissing

voice.

Lucius only nodded. Voldemort turned to Draco. He lifted his hand

and ran his icy fingers over Draco's blond hair and Draco trembled
beneath his touch.

'Yes…' Voldemort hissed looking from Draco to his Father and back
again. 'You are Draco, are you not?' It took all of his power for Draco
to swallow his fear and regain the ability to speak.

'Yes, my Lord, I am Draco.' He said confidently.

He was impressed that he had managed to sound like he was not

afraid, and relieved he had remembered the correct way to address
the Dark Lord. He extended his hand to Voldemort for a hand shake,
which caused several of the other people present to draw breath
loudly, but Voldemort seemed slightly amused by the gesture and
took Draco's hand in his in greeting. Draco had realised it was a
stupid thing to do the moment he had done it and was mightily
relieved when Voldemort responded the way he did. Draco was
aware, however that Voldemort's other hand was still resting on his
hair, and this was most unnerving. Draco tried not to show fear, and
he met Voldemort's gaze steadily. After all, if Potter could look at The
Dark Lord, then why couldn't he?

'And tell me, Draco,' Voldemort continued with a sinister smile

forming across his thin lips, 'Why were you hurrying about in the
hallway, clearly so frustrated, and…' he paused and looked Draco up
and down '… only half dressed?' He concluded in a sadistic tone, as
he watched Draco, who once again looked like a rabbit caught in the
headlights of a car.

'Errrrr… I was, I just…' Draco began, with absolutely no idea how he

was going to answer that question.

Voldemort smiled, knowing he had won, and it was not necessary to

make Draco find an answer. His gaze lingered on the open neckline
of Draco's shirt, where his pale chest was exposed, and this did
nothing to make Draco any less terrified.

'Perhaps you can tell me, then, where you have been hiding, on the
other occasions when I have visited your house, Draco?' Voldemort
asked.

'In my room.' Draco replied 'My Lord' He added quickly.

'In your room?' Voldemort paraphrased him. 'Why hide away in your
room, Draco when everyone else is downstairs?' Draco said nothing
and Voldemort continued. 'Don't tell me your dear father sent you to
your room and insisted you stay there on your own?' Draco still said
nothing as Voldemort trailed his hand down from Draco's hair, over
his face and neck and down his arm where he kept a firm hold of
Draco, just about the elbow.

'Shame on you, Lucius!' Voldemort snapped at Draco's father.

'Shame on you for keeping your charming son locked away when he
was clearly so anxious to meet me.' He smiled as he turned back to
Draco.

Draco shuffled his feet slightly and looked at the floor. He had been
anxious to meet Voldemort, but now wished to the Gods he had
stayed in his room. Voldemort was a more imposing presence than
he could ever have imagined and it terrified him. Something about
the not quite human features made him very difficult to read, and
there was an unpredictability about him, which made you think he
might just decide to kill you at any moment. Plus the way he had
touched Draco's hair, face and neck made Draco feel very
uncomfortable.

'I am leaving now, Draco.' Said Voldemort in a matter of fact voice,

'but I will be back, and I shall see you again.' He turned to Lucius.
'No more locking Draco away in his room Lucius.'

'Whatever you wish, my Lord.' Said Lucius, his voice trembled a little
and he bowed as he spoke.

'Good.' Said Voldemort, in a tone which expressed finality. He turned

back to Draco and raised his hand to caress Draco's face. To an
onlooker, could have been taken as getting a good look at him. But
to Draco, on the receiving end of the gesture, feeling the sensation
of the cold grey skin against his face, it felt as if it meant something
quite different. It was a gesture loaded with both threats and
promises.

'Idiot boy!' Lucius roared and he flung Draco across the study once
the guests had left. Narcissa screamed as Draco tripped and fell and
Lucius approached with one arm raised to strike him.
'DON'T!' She cried! 'Don't hurt him!' As she threw herself between
Lucius and Draco.

'Hurt him?' Echoed Lucius 'Hurt him? It's nothing compared to what
the Dark Lord will do to him!' And with that Narcissa began to cry
and hid her face with her hands.

Draco had picked himself up off the floor and was standing in the
corner of the room, a small trickle of blood running down his pale
face where he had hit his head on the corner of the desk. He was no
stranger to scenes like this one. His father's temper had meant that
Draco's childhood had been regularly punctuated with beatings and
unfriendly curses, followed by healing charms and tears
administered by his mother. In some of the worst cases these
scenes had ended with trips to St Mungos hospital, which would then
be followed up by Lucius making a generous donation to one of the
hospitals charitable funds as incentive to the staff to keep quite.

This scene played out rather differently though as, at that moment,
Lucius also began to sob into his hands. Draco was horrified, he had
never seen his father cry before, and he would have happily taken
the very worst of beatings in exchange for this right now. Lucius
sobbed silently and his shoulders shook convulsively. All of the fear
Draco had felt earlier in the hallway rushed back and seized him.

Lucius turned to Draco, his eyes red and his face tear stained.

'WHY didn't you just stay in your room?' He implored him. It wasn't
really a question, so much as a lament and Draco simply replied

'I'm sorry father, I'm sorry.'

It was Narcissa who regained composure first. She was a stronger

woman than many took her for. She ushered Draco and Lucius to the
couch and the 3 of them sat together. She turned to her husband.

'Lucius, we could hardly keep pretending Draco didn't exist.' She

said softly. 'The Dark Lord knew we had a son, and as Draco will
come of age in a couple of years, I'm sure he would have asked to
meet him soon if he had not done so tonight.'

Lucius knew she was right. The Dark Lord had already discussed
ideas and plans to indoctrinate his ways of thinking into the children
of his followers. It angered him that Dumbledore had so many young
minds he could work with, and Voldemort was keen to convert as
many youngsters as possible. Draco's presence would have been
requested soon, it was only a matter of time.

'I know, my dear.' Lucius said. 'I had only hoped that we might have
introduced Draco to him from more of a… safe distance, and in more
formal circumstances.'

In spite of everything, Draco felt reassured as his parents calmed

down and he felt their arms around him, keeping him safe.

'It wasn't ideal.' Narcissa conceded, 'But I think much of the Dark
Lords behaviour was simply to unnerve Draco and make sure he
was suitably afraid.'

'I was!' Thought Draco to himself, but he said nothing.

'Next time, you stay out of the way, Draco!' He father ordered. 'But
you will be dressed and ready in case you are asked for.'

'Yes father.' Said Draco, and the family sat in silence for some time
before departing for bed.
Chapter 3
Several days passed, and the Malfoy family began to calm down as
the scene that had taken place in their hallway began to fade in their
minds. Draco, still a little haunted by the memory of an icy hand on
his warm flesh, did his best to focus on other things and not to
distress his parents by mentioning it.

After 4 days, an event at the Ministry meant that both his parents
would be out for the evening, and he would be left in the manor
alone. This frightened him, but he dared not let it show.

'Of course I'll be fine, Mother.' He assured her as she prepared to

apparate to London with his father. 'I'm going to do some reading for
school and get an early night.'

'OK darling, we'll try not to be too late.' She promised him, and they
were gone.

Draco felt strangely vulnerable alone in the old manor house, but he
told himself there was no reason to be. His parents would be back
later, and no one knew he was home by himself, and what's more,
no one would care, not really. He headed to his room and decided to
take a shower to help himself to relax.

His private bathroom adjoined his bedroom and he was grateful for
that as he felt safer barricading himself in his own rooms for the
evening. They were his sanctuary from the world whenever he
wanted to hide. He began to run the water and the room filled with
steam and the delicious scent of vanilla. Draco removed his clothes
and slipped under the hot running water, enjoying the heat of it on
his naked flesh. He breathed in the steamy air and sighed deeply as
he began to feel refreshed and revitalised. He reached for his sweet
vanilla scented soap and began to work up a lather on his wet skin.
The heat, the sensation of the soap and the necessity to work his
hands all over his naked body soon lead him to become aroused and
his mind slipped back to happy places. His Italian friend he met on
holiday, afternoons spent with Blaise… Including one in a similar, if
slightly less opulent shower, in the prefects bathroom at Hogwarts.
As Draco began to stroke his soapy, erect cock, his mind wondered
further, through his favourite fantasies that he visited when he
wanted to get off. He closed his eyes as he tugged as his dick,
imagining a 'certain green eyed Gryffindor boy, on his knees, sucking
him, having previously begged to be allowed to do it…' Draco was
just about to lose himself in the moment, as the 'green eyed boy
reached round and slipped his finger into Draco's ass…' When a
noise from his bedroom startled him. The daydream evaporated
along with Draco's erection, as he felt suddenly afraid once more.

He hurriedly finished showering, towel dried himself roughly and

pulled on a pair of black silk boxer shorts. He then wrapped a towel
around his waist, swept back his wet tousled hair, and walked into
the bedroom.

The sinister figure of Voldemort sat, half reclining on Draco's bed.

In his worst waking nightmare, Draco might have pictured this, but it
had not prepared him for the reality of it. He froze in his tracks and
stared wide-eyed at the Dark Lord. His instinct was to run, but
where? No one else was here, and he doubted that there were many
places he could run where Voldemort couldn't find him.

'Good evening, Draco.' Said Voldemort with a sickly smile.

'Play it cool'. Draco told himself. ' Master your emotions, be

disciplined. You're a Malfoy, behave like one'.

'Good evening my Lord.' He said, without faltering. ' What the fuck is
he doing in my room?' Thought Draco, panicking internally if not
externally. ' He's on my BED! Is he going to rape me? Why is he
here, does he want me to take the dark mark? No, there's a
ceremony for that. Gods, what if he wants to fuck me? Shit! What do
I do?'

'I hope I didn't startle you, Draco.' Voldemort continued.

'Play for time'. Thought Draco. ' Compose yourself and play for time'.

'I was a little startled, my Lord, yes.' Draco replied coolly. Their
conversation ran like a game of chess in Draco's mind. ' Your move '.
He thought.

'Then I apologise.' Said Voldemort in a soft hissing voice. 'Come and

sit down, Draco.' He gestured for Draco to come and sit on the bed.

'Shit!' Thought Draco. ' I can't disobey him…' He tentatively walked

towards the bed and sat down on the corner at the far end, keeping
the maximum possible distance between himself and Voldemort.

Voldemort smiled and almost laughed. Draco's words and facial

expression might be trying to exude confidence and fearlessness,
but his body language showed his terror, it amused Voldemort to
watch him. Voldemort adjusted his position on the bed. He sat up
now with one foot on the bed, his knee drawn up to him, and the
other foot on the floor. He patted the bed, directly in front of him.

'Sit nearer to me.' He commanded softly.

Draco realised if he sat where Voldemort has suggested he would be

effectively between his legs, he also realised he was already
practically naked after his shower. ' Talk about making it easy for
him!' Thought Draco, and mentally kicked himself for not having
gotten dressed in the bathroom. He was however, enormously
grateful he had put underwear on beneath his loosely knotted towel.
Draco was not ready to admit it, but there seemed little doubt where
this encounter was leading. His face stony, he got up and sat where
Voldemort had suggested.
'Much Better!' Hissed Voldemort. Draco felt the intensity of his stare
at close range as his red eyes explored Draco's naked torso,
lingering over each subtly defined muscle.

Draco was a very slim build, but played just enough Quidditch to
make his slenderness look athletic and well defined. He was proud
of his physique, but felt hugely self conscious right now. Draco hid
these feelings and looked at Voldemort with a questioning
expression. ' Your move .' He thought.

Voldemort leant forward and placed his cold hand on Draco's naked
shoulder. Draco steadied himself so as not to flinch. Voldemort
slowly ran his hand down Draco's arm, giving a low sigh as he did
so. Draco did not know how he should respond. He realised that this
was not at all like chess, they were not on an even footing, it was
more like poker and Voldemort had the upper hand.

In truth, Draco would have made an excellent poker player as even

now he was determined to show no emotion, but he shivered at
Voldemort's touch in spite of himself.

Voldemort noticed this and played his next move. 'Why do you
shiver? Are you frightened of me, Draco?' he asked directly.

'You're a Malfoy, behave like one!' Draco told himself again. ' Be
cool, aloof, calm.'

'Your hands are cold, my Lord.' Draco replied, equally directly.

Voldemort smiled and took Draco's hand in both of his.

'Yes.' He hissed. 'I am often cold, and you're so warm from your
shower.'

He moved up onto his knees so he could lean closer to Draco as he

spoke. His head beside Draco's, he took a deep breath, breathing in
Draco's sweet, clean aroma. As he exhaled, Draco felt his breath
against his neck and it sent shivers down his spine, shivers of panic,
and something else Draco had not expected. Something that
frightened him.

Draco wished to the Gods he had just a little more Gryffindor bravery
in his personality, it was hard to manage this encounter on Malfoy
pride alone. Voldemort raised his hand to Draco's face and caressed
his cheek, sweeping back his wet hair. His face was mere inches
from Draco's. ' Oh Gods! He is going to rape me!' Thought the panic
stricken Draco. 'He's going to do it here, in MY room. Gods help me!
Please let him say something. If we talk maybe I can distract him…'
Draco thought wildly. Voldemort spoke.

'You are very beautiful, Draco.' He drawled as he placed his other

hand on the other side of Draco's face. His touch was gentler than
Draco had expected and the coldness of his hands felt quite
soothing on Draco's face, which felt hot as he flushed with
embarrassment and fear. 'You are very beautiful,' Voldemort
repeated, 'Does your father ever tell you that?'

Draco, who had been momentarily hypnotised by the cooling

sensation of Voldemort's hands on his face, replied now. He could
work with this.

'No, he doesn't. Because he's my father, and it would be weird.' He

missed off the formal address 'my Lord' as Voldemort was so close
to him now that he practically whispered the words into his mouth,
formality seemed a little odd.

Voldemort gave a small laugh at Draco's response and he sat back

from him, lowering his hands to hold Draco's. Breathing space!
Thought Draco. That was what he had in mind when he thought
about the tactic of playing for time.

'He should tell you.' Voldemort pressed the point. 'Perhaps he

should tell you as a warning, rather than a compliment.' He sighed a
short, rasping sigh. 'You are beautiful, Draco.'
'I know.' Said Draco, tossing back his hair with an arrogant shake of
his head. He had begun this game and intended to play for as long
as he had to. He would not admit defeat. Conversation was working
well, Draco thought.

Voldemort laughed now. It was not a nice laugh, but it was a

spontaneous one.

'I bet you do!' He said slickly. 'I bet you have fucked half of Hogwarts
by now, haven't you?' He added with a sly grin.

'Crap! Now he thinks I'm a slut. He won't think twice about taking me
here and now.' Draco felt compelled to defend his honour.

'No actually.' He said coolly. 'Nobody.'

'Why ever not?' Voldemort asked. This conversation amused him. He

delighted in watching Draco suppress his panic and try to find
answers. He enjoyed immensely the childish way Draco was trying
to play this game with him, with no chance of winning. There was an
endearing defiance about him, a feisty defensiveness the boy
employed to mask his terror. Voldemort wondered how far he could
push Draco before he came undone in his hands.

'None of them deserve me.' Draco said flatly. Another brave answer.
His soft pink lips pouted slightly as he spoke the words like a
petulant child and Voldemort's lust increased.

'He really is a Malfoy, with that attitude!' Thought Voldemort, and he

thought how much he would enjoy pounding the arrogant little brat
into the mattress when the time came.

'Really?' Voldemort asked slyly. 'Not even… Severus Snape?'

Draco blushed and looked away.

'No.' He said 'Not even him.' But Voldemort had him in a corner.
'But perhaps you wouldn't say no if he asked you?' Voldemort
smiled. 'You are attracted to older men, I think.'

'Ummmmm…' Draco suddenly felt like he had no cards left in his

hand at all and the game would soon be over.

Voldemort took hold of Draco's shoulders and pulled him further onto
the bed, so that the two of them were kneeling, facing one another.

'You are afraid of me Draco.' Said Voldemort, without relinquishing

his hold. 'Tell me, what do you imagine I am going to do to you?'

Draco wanted to stop playing now.

'I don't know.' He said, his voice almost a whisper.

'You have no reason to be afraid, have you?' Voldemort moved close

to Draco so their bodies were almost touching. 'Have I done anything
unkind to you?'

Draco shook his head.

'Have I tried to hurt you in any way?'

The same response.

'Do you not think, if I had come here to hurt you, I would have had
ample opportunity to do so by now, as you are quite alone, and
quite,' he paused, and trailed his hand down Draco's naked chest…
'vulnerable?'

Draco said nothing. Voldemort's hand on his naked body had sent
electrifying shocks right through him and he was mentally grappling
to retain his sanity.

'Does it occur to you,' Voldemort continued, realising he had

rendered Draco speechless, 'that perhaps I have come here to be
NICE to you?' And with that, he moved in and slowly used the tip of
his tongue to trace Draco's jaw line from his chin to just below his
ear.

The shock of it caused Draco to sharply draw breath, and feeling

Voldemort's breath on the side of his neck caused him to shiver, and
he could no longer deny that the fear was accented with a note of
desire. Voldemort was powerful, intimidating and dominant. Power
attracted Draco, fear and admiration had been often tied up in the
same place throughout his life, due to his relationship with his father.
If Voldemort had been looking for a play thing whose emotions he
could easily confuse and manipulate, he had got his wish with Draco.
Draco no longer wished to challenge him in whatever game they had
been playing. Giving in, giving up, giving himself now was beginning
to feel like the best option for getting out of this alive.

Caressing Draco's face and neck, Voldemort began to plant kisses

on his cheek and Draco sighed deeply, feeling his logic slipping
away like water through his fingers, and he longed to just let go.
Voldemort's lips found their way to Draco's mouth, and pushed
against Draco's lips, which parted under the pressure. Voldemort's
tongue explored Draco's warm mouth, stroked over his soft lips and
Draco in return worked his mouth against Voldemort's, kissing him
back, with a sob of desperation as he did so.

Without breaking out of the kiss, Voldemort wrapped his arms

around Draco and roughly pulled him close so that he was pressed
against him. Draco's towel fell away, leaving him clad only in his
black silk underwear. Voldemort's hands were cold on his back, his
arms felt strong as he held him. Despite the coldness of his hands,
Draco could detect some faint heat now that he was pressed bodily
against him. Voldemort moved away from Draco's mouth and began
to work on his neck, kissing, sucking and biting at him whilst Draco
whimpered, perhaps in pleasure, perhaps in protest as the sensation
overtook him.

Neck kissing really was his weakness. If only Blaise had known this
he might have got his way a long time ago, Voldemort seemed to
have discovered it right away. Draco tried to suppress his desperate
gasps of pleasure, as Voldemort entangled his fingers in his hair,
caressed his back, the firm curve of his ass, and worked so
devotedly on the most intense areas of Draco's neck. Draco could
not hide the obvious physical effect it was having at front of his boxer
shorts. Voldemort must have become aware of this, as he very
purposefully thrust his hips forward and moved so that Draco was
straddling one of his legs. Draco could not fight any longer and he
began to grind himself against Voldemort's thigh. Voldemort
rewarded his enthusiasm with more open mouthed kisses.

This was how he wanted Draco; willing, in spite of himself. He

wanted Draco wanting him. He wanted Draco conflicted and
confused with lust. He wanted him powerless to resist. Not because
Voldemort was forcing him, but because he had driven him the edge
of self control. The Dark Lord could have anyone he wanted if he
took them by force, but the game way more fun played this way.
Voldemort almost wanted Lucius to return home early and witness
this scene. He imagined Lucius's face if he saw his haughty,
beautiful son, gasping and panting whilst desperately thrusting
against the Dark Lords leg. Voldemort wanted Draco to beg for it, but
there was plenty of time for that. Draco had played well so far, and
Voldemort was keen to play a long game with this boy.

Draco had cursed himself for not finishing himself off in the shower.
Perhaps if he had, he wouldn't be so achingly hard now. He was
hard to the point that his brain had ceased to function and he was
thinking entirely with his body. He could not remember ever being so
overtaken by his sex drive in his life. Perhaps it was because in all
the games he had ever played before, he had held the aces.
Perhaps it was because when you lose, you have nothing, you give
everything up, including your self control. All he knew was there was
another body there, a strong, powerful body, arms around him,
mouth controlling him. A man who was now as hard as Draco
himself, and was pushing his erection against Draco's hip, with firm,
masterful thrusts. How did Draco feel that his man was in fact He-
Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Draco actually couldn't contemplate that
fact fully at that precise moment as his brain had giving up round
about the time Voldemort first kissed his neck. Draco was still afraid,
he had never stopped being afraid, but somehow what was
happening seemed inevitable and all he could do now was embrace
it. Like a drowning person embraces the final wave that takes them
under, as it is the one that ends the suffering.

Draco's forearms were pressed against Voldemort's chest, his hands

gripping his shoulders. Draco realised they had been there for some
time as he clung on to keep himself from collapsing. He thrust his
hips wantonly against Voldemort's leg, desperate for a climax,
fighting back tears of frustration and shame through his breathless
gasps. As much as Voldemort enjoyed the spectacle Draco was
making of himself, he decided to give the boy some relief and he
reached his hand down and slipped it inside Draco's underwear.

'Oh Gods!' Moaned Draco as the cold hand trailed over his delicate
hip bones and slipped under his clothes. He gave a stifled scream as
the icy fingers circled his hard cock and began to work back and
forth, giving him the stimulation he had been craving.

This was wrong. This was so wrong, Draco knew it, but in this
moment he was aware only of lust, of touch, of a desperate desire, a
need to give the Dark Lord anything he wanted in exchange for the
gratification of his own sexual wants. Draco moved his own hand
lower and reached inside Voldemort's robes to feel his cock. He
found his way there, noticing the subtle warmth of Voldemort's skin.
Voldemort was certainly well endowed, his dick was long and thick
and Draco caressed it with his soft pale hand, gently tugging it and
from time to time, flicking his fingers over the tip. His actions were
almost instinctual. He was not able to think properly as Voldemort
was pumping him harder and harder and continuing to bite his neck,
Draco could feel that he would not last much longer and he was
positively desperate to come.

'Merlin! I'm going to come all over him!' Thought Draco, horrified. '
I'm gonna come all over his hand and his leg! Fuck! I'm gonna come
over Lord Voldemort, He will probably kill me for it!'
Draco whimpered with fear and frustration.

With his free hand, Voldemort wrenched Draco's head back and
whispered in his ear

'Come for me, Draco!'

The feeling of Voldemort's breath in his ear, the aggressively hissed

words of permission, combined with the firm, forceful tugs Voldemort
was administering to his cock were too much for Draco and he could
hold back no longer. A tremor ripped through his whole body as he
climaxed, covering Voldemort's hand with his fluid.

'Oh fuck!' He gasped franticly as he came, almost losing

consciousness for a moment due to the intensity of his orgasm.

Voldemort gave a satisfied smile, he liked having that effect on

Draco. He liked having that power over him. But the boy had made
quite a mess on his hand and on his robes, and he probably needed
to be reprimanded for that. He allowed Draco only moments to
recover before he roughly pushed him down so that Draco's head
was level with his crotch. Voldemort pushed his robes back, allowing
Draco full access to his erection, and Draco, still dazed from the
force of his climax, moved his mouth to the head of Voldemort's
cock.

Draco wrapped his lips around the end of it and pulled gently around
the ridge, lightly flicking his tongue over the slit to taste his pre-come.
It was Voldemort's turn to gasp out loud and he had to steady
himself against the headboard. Draco was good. He was
exceptional, in fact, and it caught the Dark Lord of guard. Draco
might have claimed he hadn't fucked half of Hogwarts, but he sure
as hell had had some practice at this! ' Perhaps it's been put on the
curriculum, now that Dumbledore is headteacher?' Voldemort
wondered as he attempted to compose himself a little as he watched
the angel faced blond sucking his dick as though his life depended
on it. Gods! Draco was good at this!
Draco knew he was good at this, and he was confident he could get
Voldemort off with just a few more flicks of his tongue. He wanted
something of the satisfaction Voldemort had felt when he forced
Draco to orgasm. Draco knew what a gratifying feeling it was to have
that effect on another person. The game was on again. Voldemort
could make Draco do anything he wanted, as he could with most
people, but Draco could make Voldemort come, if nothing else.

Voldemort moaned a deep guttural sigh and Draco could tell by the
pulsing of his cock that he was really close. Draco took a gamble.
Sensing that Voldemort was turned on by fear and vulnerability, he
took a moment to glance up into Voldemort's face, his deep grey
eyes wide, with a frightened, innocent expression. It was extremely
well played. Seeing the fear and vulnerability on Draco's pretty face
was too much for Voldemort, but he was not going to let this happen
on Draco's terms. Draco had come all over him and now he was
about to return the gesture. Feeling his climax coming, he pulled his
hips back so that his cock was just free from Draco's soft wet lips.
Voldemort managed this just in time to spray his come in rapid spurts
over Draco's beautiful porcelain face, over his pink lips and into his
pretty mouth. Draco was shocked, he had expected to swallow what
Voldemort gave him, he had not expected a face full of his come.
Draco's look of shock pleased Voldemort and he could have almost
have laughed in delight as he looked at the poor confused boy,
practically naked, with come dripping down his lovely face. This visit
to Malfoy Manor had been every bit as entertaining as he had hoped
it would be.
Chapter 4
Draco's parents were home before midnight, and he wondered
downstairs to meet them, his thick black dressing gown over his
pyjamas. Voldemort had left, after being kind enough to utter a
cleaning spell over the bed, but he left Draco to wash his face
himself. Voldemort had bid Draco goodnight and apparated away
without another word. Draco had showered again, three times in fact
and was considering a forth when his parents returned. Draco
wondered if they would notice that he was, in fact, an entirely
different person from the boy they left behind just hours before. But
his mother rushed over to him and hugged and kissed him like he
was the most precious thing in the world. He didn't have the heart to
tell her that he was no longer her precious little boy, but some filthy,
marred interloper who should be flung out into the street.

His father seemed to have had a little to drink, but was in a cheery
mood. Draco was keen to get to bed so as to be out of the way if that
mood changed. He made his excuses and took a sleeping draft,
certain as he was that he would get no sleep without it. Returning to
his room, the battleground where he had lost the fight so
spectacularly, he was glad he had taken twice the recommended
dose of sleeping draft, as it was merely moments before he fell
asleep in his armchair, not having wanted to be on the bed just yet.

He awoke in his bed hours later, and realised his mother must have
come to say goodnight and moved him there. Part of him wanted to
jump up and throw the covers off and go… Anywhere, really,
downstairs maybe, but the bed was warm and exceptionally
comfortable.

The thick heavy blankets enveloped him in an embrace and he was

reminded of the embrace he had been held in just hours before. He
felt horrified as he became aware that he was getting hard as he
remembered lips on his neck, a cold hand pumping his dick, a thick
hard cock in his mouth… Draco had never hated himself more than
he did in that moment, which was an achievement in itself, for he
was internally wracked with self loathing. What other feeling could
underpin the vile mask of arrogance he perpetually wore? Oh, Draco
knew he was attractive, knew he was rich, charming and well bred,
but his insecurities came from thinking he lacked any of the more
important character traits. He thought the fact he had behaved as he
had done this evening proved it, and the fact he was now hard
thinking about it, showed beyond doubt that he was a vile,
despicable excuse for a person.

'Think about something else!' He told himself sharply. ' Pansy and
Granger in the girls locker rooms. 'Pansy pushes Granger up against
the lockers and slips her hand up her skirt..'. Draco began to touch
himself. ' Granger tries to cry for help, but Pansy forces her lips over
her mouth and her hand moves to the warm spot between Grangers
legs and pulls aside her white panties…'

Oh, who was he kidding? He hadn't been wanking about girls for
months now. It was as if he was trying to prove something to himself
now, and it wasn't working. The image of Pansy and Hermione in the
locker room dissolved and his mind began to cloud again with
memories of Voldemort's touch, his smell, his taste…

Call up an old favourite, though Draco…

'Your behaviour in class today has been far below what I expect from
you Mr. Malfoy', Snape drawls. 'You may be my favorite student, but
I am afraid I must punish you.' Snape grabs me and pulls me to the
couch… Since when was there a couch in the potions room?' Maybe
the detention was in his office or something,' it doesn't matter', Draco
reminded himself, it's a fantasy, but he was a stickler for detail!

' Snape pulls me over to the couch and sits down. He turns me and
stares at me with his dark penetrating eyes. 'Take down your
trousers, Mr Malfoy.' Hesitantly I obey him. 'And your underwear.'
Snape adds coolly. I do as I am told. Snape pulls me over his lap
and admires my firm, pale ass cheeks for a moment. I'm going to
spank you, Mr. Malfoy." He whispers…
Draco, in his bed at the Manor was fully erect now, in the midst of
this, one of his most visited fantasies and he worked his dick with his
hand, slowly at first .

Snape raises his hand and slaps my ass with great force. It stings
like hell, the sound resonates around the room and I yelp with pain.
Snape takes no notice and spanks me again across the other cheek
this time and takes a moment to watch as the skin reddens. I shout
in pain as Snape follows up with several short, sharp slaps. 'I'm
going to spank you till you cry, Malfoy!' Snape hisses at me…'

In bed, Draco was masturbating furiously now as he imagined the

scene. He imagined himself getting hard as Snape spanked him, and
Snape deciding to fuck him over the desk as further punishment for
being such a little pervert.

Draco was so close to orgasm when a dark though crossed his mind.
If he could fantasise about this type of thing, then surely he deserved
everything he got? If his choice of wank material were scenes in
which he was disciplined and humiliated by an older man, surely he
should welcome Voldemort's attention? Just as he climaxed, the
image of Snape disappeared and was replaced with one of
Voldemort, Voldemort fucking him over the desk in his father's study.

Draco ran to the bathroom and was violently sick. Slumped on the
cold bathroom floor he chastised himself. 'You deserve everything
you get, you are sick and perverted, you did nothing, NOTHING
to resist him. You are a filthy little whore and your family will
disown you'.

A battle raged in his head as though two versions of himself were

fighting a war. 'What could I do?' the kinder Draco argued. 'I was
afraid and I didn't know what to do, I couldn't run, I thought he
would kill me if I didn't do what he wanted'.

'But you didn't have to LIKE it!' The critical Draco retorted. 'And
the way you think about Snape, and the way you fool around
with Blaise, you're gonna get it one day, good and proper and
it'll be your own fault!'

'But I'm 15!' Wailed the other Draco. 'I'm allowed to be interested
in sex, aren't I? And I'm allowed to fantasise about things I don't
actually want to happen in reality, aren't I?'

'What do you want to happen in reality?' Taunted the cruel Draco.

'I want someone to love me.' Answered the kind Draco. Draco
could hear laughter inside his head.

'Some chance of that! Who would love something so filthy and

sullied as you? After what you have done? No one will love
you!'

'Shut up!' Draco shouted out loud to silence the voices, then he
realised how crazy he sounded as he was alone in the bathroom. His
shout seemed to have rejoined the 2 sides of his personality though
and logical, structured thought returned.

He had done something bad, but it wasn't entirely his fault. No one
knew about it, he just had to stay in control. ' You're a Malfoy.
Behave like one!'
Chapter 5
Draco was pacing in the drawing room next to his father's study. He
was beautifully dressed and his hair was immaculate. This did not
look too suspicious, as he usually presented himself this way, but
today he wore his favourite scent and had spent longer than usual in
front of the mirror.

Voldemort was meeting with his father. They had been in there for
ages now, what could they be talking about?

Of course it was entirely possible that the Dark Lord would not even
want to set eyes on Draco today. Why would he? Draco didn't know,
if in that eventuality, he would feel relieved or disappointed. If
Voldemort did not ask to see him, Draco could already hear the cruel
voice in his head with a landslide of taunts and abuse to yell at him
as he wrestled with his emotions . 'As if he would want to see you
again! He probably though you were crap! And you spent so
long on your hair today! What are you, some kind of girl? And I
thought you didn't want this anyway? You're not supposed to
want this, you creep!'

Narcissa appeared at the door and hurried to Draco.

'Sit down, darling.' She ushered him to the couch 'Why are you
pacing about like that?' She said, stroking his hand.

'Father said I had to be ready in case HE wants to see me.' Draco

replied.

'I know, sweetheart, but it will be ok.' His mother tried to reassure
him. 'Your father will be there, and you must just say as little as
possible in the Dark Lords presence. It will be scary the first time he
sees you, but you will be alright.'
Draco knew his mother was blissfully unaware that Draco had
already been alone in the presence of the Dark Lord, and had not
handled things well at all.

Inside the study the conversation was drawing to a close.

'That is all I need to discuss with you today Lucius.' Voldemort said.
He sat behind Lucius's desk while Lucius stood before him like a
frightened schoolboy.

'Yes, my Lord.' Said Lucius obediently, as he moved towards the

door.

'However.' Voldermort interjected, 'I will see your son for a while, if I
may?' It was neither a question or a request, but an instruction.
Lucius stopped in his tracks.

'Yes, my Lord, whatever you wish.' He said dryly, feeling like his
throat was closing up. He walked to the door to the drawing room
and opened it. Narcissa and Draco both jumped up at once.

'Draco, the Dark Lord wishes to speak to you.' Lucius said nervously
as he met his wife's eyes.

Showing no trace of emotion, Draco walked towards the study and

Lucius stepped back inside the room before Draco reached the door.

Voldemort smiled sadistically at Lucius. 'I wish to see Draco,

ALONE.' He said with a sinister grin. Lucius felt his stomach drop.

'Of course my Lord.' He said and left passing Draco in the doorway.
Their eyes met for a moment and Draco saw an emotion in his
father's face that he was not used to seeing there. It might have
been pity.

Draco shut the door behind him and turned to face Voldemort, who
had risen from his chair in greeting.

'My Lord.' Said Draco stiffly.

He looked perfect, Voldemort thought. Immaculately presented,
aristocratic, with an unearthly beauty. He was well dressed with not a
hair out of place and Voldemort longed to change that. As well as
looking perfect, it seemed he was also able to conduct himself
beautifully, in spite of their last encounter.

'Draco.' Voldemort said, in as warmer voice as he was capable of.

He extended his hand and beckoned to Draco to approach him.

Draco walked towards him, his step quickening as he got nearer and
Voldemort pulled him into a grasping embrace. He swept Draco up
and sat him on the desk, working his way between Draco's legs. One
hand on Draco's slender waist and the other stroking his soft blond
hair, he leant in and kissed Draco on the mouth. Draco parted his
lips and responded to the kiss with eagerness, and he didn't even
know why.

Draco had had no idea if Voldemort would ask to see him, or what
the nature of the encounter would be if he did. He did not know what
he wanted, but he did know what it was like to be touched, and then
not to be touched. To not know if that touch would come again. He
knew what it felt like to have someone engulf you entirely and then to
leave with no promise of return. He knew what it was like when your
body kept vividly remembering them, even when your brain didn't
want to.

Voldemort pulled Draco to the edge of the desk and gripped him
tightly so that they bodies were pressed together, he deepened the
kiss and Draco whimpered softly under the force of it. Blood rushed
to his groin. His body was oh, so ready for this, even if his mind was
not.

He ran his hands up Voldemort's muscular back, feeling the

definition, even through his robes. Suddenly realising what he was
doing, Draco stopped and put his hands on Voldemort's shoulders
and fought against him for a moment, unsure what he would actually
do if Voldemort broke away from him. Voldemort fought back a laugh
as Draco tried to resist wanting this. He gripped him tighter, almost
crushing him, the more Draco resisted, the harder Voldemort held
him. Draco moaned and tried to protest as Voldemort began to thrust
against him.

Despite his struggling, it seemed he had wrapped his legs around

Voldemort and linked his feet behind his back. He could make very
little sound as Voldemort's mouth was upon him, smothering his lips
with burning kisses.

Eventually he moved his mouth away from Draco's, to allow them

both to breath, and to see what explanation the struggling boy would
give for trying to fight him off, and how he would then go on to
explain his erection pressing into Voldemort's hip. He looked at
Draco with his glaring red eyes, questioningly.

'You were fighting me Draco. Why?' He whispered, his voice like a

caress.

'My… my, parents…' Draco began, his voice faltered. ' Hell, if they
hear, if he does anything to me, if he fucks me, they might hear. I
would die if they hear this.'

'Sssssshhh!…' Hissed Voldemort. 'They won't hear us if you are

quiet and good.' Draco swallowed hard, he wondered what being
'good' would entail. He must have looked scared because Voldemort
said,

'You're frightened.'

'Yes.' Draco whispered.

Voldemort smiled and moved to kiss Draco's neck. He started right

over his throat, rather than at the side. No one had ever kissed him
there before, Draco found it incredibly intimate, but terrifying too, to
be kissed in such a delicate place. Voldemort could rip his throat out
if he wanted. Slowly he worked his way round to the sensitive area at
he side of Draco's neck. Draco shivered and gave a low moan and
gripped Voldemort tightly with his legs. He felt Voldemort smile
against his skin.

'Ohhh…' Draco breathed helplessly as Voldemort bit him, he pushed

his hips forwards to Voldemort's body.

'That's better, Draco.' Voldemort whispered softly.

'Mmmmmmm…' Draco moaned, tilting his head back and closing his
eyes as Voldemort's hand reached for his crotch, cupped his
erection and began to rub him there. 'Oh Gods!' Gasped Draco
breathlessly.

Lucius and Narcissa sat nervously in the adjacent room, gripping

each other's hands, wracked with fear about what the Dark Lord
might be doing to their perfect son, and wracked with guilt that they
could not protect him.

Draco bucked his hips against Voldemort's hand, and his breath
became desperate and pleading. Once again, desire had overtake
sanity. He shouldn't be doing this. He could hardly justify it
happening once, but going back for more? That was unforgivable.
He was just desperate for the touch of Voldemort's flesh against his.
He hated Voldemort for doing this to him. He hated himself for
wanting it. He hated his parents, they should be protecting him and
yet the practically offered him up like a sacrifice tonight. ' But even if
they saved you from HIM, they can't save you from yourself,' the
voice taunted, ' and this is YOUR fault.'

Draco took refuge in his body. His brain was intent on torturing him,
so he just shut it down and existed for the moment through sensation
only. Voldemort had pushed him back so that he was laying across
the desk, allowing Voldemort to caress his chest and to fondle his
cock easily. He had not undressed Draco, but simply by touching
Draco through his clothes he had worked him up into a frenzy.
Draco's fingernails dug into the leather of the desk at either side of
him and he bit hard on his lower lip and screwed his eyes shut, half
sobbing with lust.
'It's almost too easy'. Thought Voldemort as he watched the
squirming boy beneath his hands, but Draco's willingness actually
made him want him more, not less. He wanted to tease him first, to
drive him to absolute distraction. His own cock was rigid with desire
and he pushed it hard up against Draco's ass. Draco felt it pressing
there, even through his clothes and he pushed back against
Voldemort, asking for more. Draco felt like he was standing on the
edge of a precipice and the world was crumbling around him, the
best thing he could do was to jump, he wanted to let go.

'Fuck me.' He whispered pleadingly. He surprised himself, and

Voldemort too. Voldemort leant down so that his face was over
Draco's and looked into his eyes.

'What did you say, Draco?' He had heard him perfectly clearly, but
wanted to make him say it again.

'Fuck me, please, my Lord, fuck me.' Draco begged, his twilight grey
eyes wide with fear and lust.

Voldemort had had no intention of fucking Draco that night, it had not
been in his plan, but he was finding it hard to stick to the plan right
now. Helpless and hopeless, Draco looked at him, eyes full of
anguish and actually begged him for it, it was hard to resist. He
pushed himself upright and moved back slightly, keeping contact, but
decreasing the pressure between them.

'No, Draco. I won't fuck you.' Voldemort said firmly.

Draco sat up, supporting himself on his hands. He looked dazed and
confused, he frowned, he was still panting and short of breath.

'Why?' he asked desperately. ' Why?' he thought to himself, ' was the
plan all along simply to humiliate me? The fucking bastard!'

Voldemort leaned towards him tauntingly…

'I won't fuck you TODAY, Draco.' He whispered, and bit gently at
Draco's lips, causing Draco to sob with frustration. He stepped back,
tearing himself away from Draco.

'Get on your knees.' He commanded harshly. Draco obeyed instantly.

By the time he was there, Voldemort had released his cock and
pointed it a Draco's mouth. 'Suck me.' He said.

Draco took Voldemort in his mouth and sucked hard. He did not
tease this time because he was angry, he sucked ferociously, but still
took care not to hurt Voldemort, as he was no less frightened of him
than he had even been. He cupped Voldemort's balls in his hand and
stimulated him there and held the base of his cock with the other
while working his mouth back and forth. He relaxed his throat and
leant forward to take the whole length of Voldemort's dick.

Draco's deep throat technique felt amazing and Voldemort began to

wish he had sat down before he let him begin, although he did enjoy
towering over him. Voldemort reached down and took hold of
Draco's head and held him firmly. He thrust his hips back and forth,
fucking Draco's mouth violently and without a care. It was mere
moments before he shot his load down Draco's throat, Draco had
given him the frightened eyes look again, this time quite without
meaning to.

Voldemort reached down and took Draco's hands, helping him up

from the floor. Once Draco was standing, he kissed him on the
forehead, simply brushing his thin lips against Draco's skin. It was
the most intimate thing Draco could imagine and it was very
unexpected.

Draco looked rather dishevelled now and he tried to straighten

himself out.

'You will be going back to school soon, won't you?' Voldemort asked,
fastening up his robes.
'Errr, yeah. Yes, my Lord.' Draco corrected himself. Voldemort was
charmed.

'I will see you before you go.' He said softly and pulled Draco in for
one last, long passionate kiss before he disaparated.

Draco stepped into the room where his parents were waiting. He
looked neatly put together again, but he thought his face must still be
flushed and he dreaded that he might smell of sex. His parents
jumped up and ran to him, his mother flung her arms around him and
held him tightly.

'Are you ok, Draco?' She asked.

'Yes, I'm fine.' Draco replied sounding composed.

'You were in there so long, I was so worried.' She said.

'What did he want to talk to you about?' Asked his father

suspiciously.

'Errr, you know, just like, what I think about muggles and mudbloods
and that sort of thing.' Draco lied a little unconvincingly. He
elaborated, adding creditability to his story.

'He asked about the mudbloods at Hogwarts and about what sort of
thing we learn in muggle studies. He just seemed to want an insight
into the rubbish that they insist on teaching us.' He added
confidently.

'I'm sure you answered well.' His father said proudly and he departed
for his study.

Draco spoke to his mother. 'I'm going to go to bed now, I'm really
tired and we have to go to Diagon Ally tomorrow, don't we?

'Yes… d, darling.' She said, her voice faltering, but she regained her
composure.
'Goodnight mother.' Said Draco, and he squeezed her hand in his
and turned to leave, going via the kitchens, he planned to take a
bottle of Fire-Whisky upstairs with him, there was no other way he'd
sleep tonight.

'Goodnight, my sweetheart.' Narcissa said, as cheerily as she could.

She maintained her expression until Draco had left the room then
she gasped and covered her face in her hands, sobbing violently. As
Draco had hugged her, she alone had noticed the deep purple
bruises and red teeth marks on her sons neck.
Chapter 6
Emotions did not suit Voldemort, he did not manage them well.

All those years without a physical body had left him desperate for
sexual gratification, and Draco was just the ideal little toy for him.
Draco tried to play him at his own game, and Voldemort loved the
way he fought him, and fought his own desires, always to no avail.
His desperate pleas to be fucked on the desk had been the icing on
the cake. Voldemort pictured Draco begging, and then looking so
angry at being refused. Draco was spoilt and used to getting what he
wanted, and Voldemort had every intention of giving it to him, but
only when HE decided to. Draco may not like it when it happened,
but he had asked and he would get his wish.

Voldemort smiled at the thought. The lustful part of him wanted to

turn Draco on, wanted to make him beg for everything, to torment
the boy with desire. The problem was, Draco charmed Voldemort
too. Not with his false haughtiness and pride, but with his raw
vulnerability, His confused emotions and the subtle ways in which he
accidently expressed them. Voldemort felt a fondness for the boy,
and this lead to a raging possessiveness, an unrelenting desire to
have him right now, regardless of the consequences. He had to
make Draco Malfoy his, utterly and completely his.

The Malfoy family had only 4 more days together before Draco
would catch the train to Hogwarts for the new term.

Narcissa had tried her best to control her emotions since the night
she had seen the marks on her sons neck. She had been a little
more possessive of Draco, and had wanted to sit in his room with
him often. She did not want to make Lucius suspicious of her
behaviour and she did not want to tell him what she had seen. Nor
did she want to mention it to Draco. Somehow not speaking it might
make it less true.
It was nearly 6pm, and the family sat together in the drawing room.
Draco reading. His mother, with a book, doing a passable impression
of someone reading, whilst watching her son. His father writing at the
table.

There was a sudden sharp snap and Voldemort appeared in the

room having apparated in directly with no warning. They all jumped
to their feet, Narcissa, throwing herself in front of Draco instinctively.

'My Lord!' Lucius began. 'To what do we owe this unexpected

pleasure?'

'Draco!' Voldemort shouted. His eyes narrowed, as Lucius ran to his

wife and son.

'Draco! Come Here!' He commanded angrily.

Draco did not know why he was angry. The last time he had seen
him, he had kissed him gently, and now he was shouting with a
murderous look in his red eyes. Draco felt like crying. Had he done
something wrong?

Draco started towards Voldemort and Narcissa grabbed his arm.

'No!' She cried. The Dark Lord glared at her, how dare she say no to
him?

'It's ok.' Draco whispered to her, wanting to stop her doing anything
that might put her in danger, and he hurried towards Voldemort who
gave an evil smile to Lucius and Narcissa.

'Well done, Draco.' He said in a satisfied drawl as he reached out for

Draco's hand. As soon as he touched him, he wrenched Draco up to
his body and held him tightly. He whispered in Draco's ear one word
that would have been inaudible to Lucius and Narcissa.

'Today.'
Chapter 7
Voldemort apparated with Draco to a dark room in a location Draco
did not know. He was mortified at the fact his parents had witnessed
the way the Voldemort had held him. His parents no doubt saw
Voldemort's hand move suggestively down Draco's back, and they
would have seen the way he whispered to him, even if they had not
heard the word or known it's meaning.

The room they arrived in was so dark Draco could hardly even
discern what furniture was there except that in the centre there was
a large four poster bed with black drapes.

He was still dizzy and disorientated from apparating, when the

second they arrived in the room, Voldemort turned to him, raised his
hand and struck Draco across the face, knocking him to the floor.

Draco was unable to move for a couple of seconds. The Dark Lord
advanced on him as he lay on the ground. In his confused state, he
scrambled back along the floor into the corner of the room, faintly
aware of blood running down the left side of his face. Voldemort
loomed above him. Draco did not know if Voldemort would strike him
again. Good sense told him he should cower and try to protect his
face and head. Draco knew how to take a beating, having had plenty
of practice. But he did not know why Voldemort had struck him like
that and he was overwhelmed by emotions. So many emotions he
couldn't name or distinguish them. Hate, fear, sorrow, shame,
confusion… maybe…? Instead of hiding his face he looked up at the
Dark Lord, looked directly at him, his eyes filled with tears asking,
without words… 'Why?'

Voldemort was not sure himself why he had hit Draco so hard, he
had clearly hurt him a great deal, but he got the sense that the tears
filling Draco's grey eyes were nothing to do with physical pain.
Voldemort was unsure how to proceed, he had not really wanted to
strike the boy so hard, but Voldemort did not know how to manage
emotions. He had not expected such unquestioning submission from
Draco. Draco didn't even try to protect himself. He had always tried
to fight before, tried to play a game which he didn't know the rules of,
but now he seemed to accept that he had lost. He looked up at
Voldemort with wide, frightened eyes, like a deer cornered by a
hunter, exhausted from the chase, unsure of what will happen next
as it has never lost the race before.

'Stand up.' Voldemort commanded, and Draco, using the wall to

steady himself, staggered to his feet. He looked at Voldemort, and
tried to read him.

'Is he going to kill me? Torture me? What does he want? He has
never hit me before, what have I done?' Draco's mind swam, foggy
after the blow to his head.

'Get on the bed.' Voldemort hissed. When Draco moved slowly and
hesitantly, Voldemort grabbed his arm and flung him across the
room,

'I said GET ON THE BED!' He shouted. 'NOW!'

Draco stumbled to the bed and fell onto his front. Voldemort was
instantly right behind him. His violence was subsiding a little, now
that he was sure Draco was here, that Draco was his, and that he
could do what he liked with him. His mind tripped back to the
defenceless pleading boy, begging to be fucked. He liked that Draco.
He liked terrified, hurt Draco who looked at him with sad tear stained
eyes too. But the dirty, pleading, humiliated boy who begged for sex
and hated himself for it, he was just too delicious.

Draco had scrambled to his knees, and he looked down at the bed
beneath him, his eyes still wet with tears, but he would not give in
and allow them to fall freely.

'Look at me.' Voldemort said, commandingly, but with something of

his silky tone he usually used for Draco's benefit. Very slowly Draco
raised his head and his eyes to look at Voldemort, who did not hurry
him with further commands.

Draco's perfect delicate porcelain face was beginning to bruise a

violent purple on the left hand side and a dark trickle of blood ran
down his cheek. Fear had turned him pale as a ghost and his eyes
were a deep grey, ringed with red as he fought back the tears.

Voldemort wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and held him
tightly before one hand swept his hair away from his face, revealing
the injury he had inflicted on him. Draco struggled to breathe and he
trembled against Voldemort's body, as he desperately tried not to cry.
Voldemort's fingers moved slowly in his hair. Then, Voldemort slowly
licked the side of Draco's face, tracing the line of blood on his cheek.
Draco gasped and flinched when he reached the cut. Voldemort
kissed his open mouth, spreading a wetness onto his lips, which
Draco realised from the taste, was blood, his own blood. Voldemort's
kisses were deep and laviscious, and Draco found himself sighing
softly into Voldemort's mouth as his tongue teased him.

When Voldemort pulled out of the kiss he looked at Draco. The boy
looked absolutely terrified. He looked lost. He looked broken. His
eyes were wide. The blood spread over his soft lips made them
appear darker. With his aristocratic looks and fresh blood on his lips,
he could have been a vampire, were it not for the pitiful expression
on his pretty face. Leaning close to his ear, Voldemort whispered

'Draco, you BEGGED for this…'

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his lip, deeply
ashamed. Slowly, Voldemort began to undress him. He removed his
jacket and cast it aside and began to unfasten Draco's black shirt. As
he undid the buttons he was able to graze his cold fingers across
Draco's chest, Draco's breathing was becoming increasingly
laboured as his fear heightened. He had begged for it and he was
mortified that he had done so. He had been crazy with lust, and he
didn't know if he could feel like that now. Voldemort might not be
prepared to take the time to get him there.
As Voldemort removed Draco's shirt completely, he paused for a
moment to take in the sight of Draco's beautiful body. He had not
seen Draco unclothed since the first time they had been together,
and Draco's naked flesh was a welcome sight.

Draco, gripped with panic, was almost gasping for breath. He had
never suffered from panic attacks in the past, but imagined this might
be what it felt like if he did. Voldemort read the signs. He had
observed people in all stages of panic and distress and knew that if
Draco's breathing didn't regulate, he would probably pass out.
Voldemort did not want him unconscious. He would probably have
fucked him anyway, but it would be preferable to have him awake
and aware, vividly aware, of what was happening to him.

Voldemort gently took Draco in his arms and pressed their bodies
together. He held Draco tightly, but took care not to restrict his
breathing. Voldemort breathed deeply, helping Draco into the same
rhythm. He ran his cold hands over Draco's naked back, helping to
lower his body temperature, which had sky rocketed due to his
soaring adrenalin levels. He stroked Draco's hair and let Draco hide
his face against his neck.

'He's hard work!' Thought Voldemort, who though it quite

unreasonable of Draco to be so distressed. 'But he's a Malfoy, he's
bound to be high maintenance!' He amused himself with that
thought.

Draco was becoming calmer, or at least, resigned to his fate. He

snuck his arms around Voldemort's waist and clung to him tightly,
burying his face in his robes. Voldemort indulged Draco and let him
stay there for some time as his breathing returned to a slower pace.
To his surprise, Voldemort actually enjoyed this exploration with
Draco. It seemed he had the power to elicit any emotion from Draco,
and he wanted to memorise what actions and behaviours resulted in
which ones. It was easy to make people fear you, it was easy to
cause pain, but so very gratifying to be able to do that to them, and
then in almost the same moment, to make them want you.
Voldemort touched Draco's chin and lifted his head to gain access to
his lips. Calmer now, Draco received his kisses and responded to his
movements. As Voldemort pushed his tongue forward, Draco parted
his lips letting him into his mouth. Draco brushed his own tongue
against Voldemort's lips and entered his mouth in return. He was so
grateful that Voldemort had taken the time to calm him, he wanted to
thank him. He bit gently on Voldemort's lower lip. Voldemort had not
expected this, but the simple action sent a surge of lust through him.

' Damn it Draco!' He thought.

Draco was so sweet, innocent, so naive, so unaware. He begged for

sex and then cried in fear when he knew he would be fucked. He
relaxed when he was held and then thanked you with behaviour
which would make you need to fuck him.

Voldemort kissed him more deeply, more passionately and Draco

held him tightly, gripping his shoulders with his fingers, his nails
digging in through Voldemort's robes. Voldemort wanted to feel those
nails on his skin without fabric in the way, so at length, he pulled out
of the kiss and, keeping one hand on Draco, he loosened his robes
and let them fall to the floor. He now stood before Draco wearing
only a fitted pair of shorts made from a leather like material.

Draco had not seen Voldemort's body before. In both of their

previous encounters, the Dark Lord had remained fully clothed and
Draco had only been able to trace his body through his robes. Draco
had felt the broadness of his back and shoulders and the firmness of
his muscles, but he had not anticipated just how well defined
Voldemort's torso would be. His shoulders were large, his pectoral
and abdominal muscles, perfectly defined. His powerful arms were
thick and strong. Draco himself was athletic, but his body was slim
and delicate. Unclothed, the Dark Lord had a body like a muscular
stallion or bull, there was something animalistic about him, perhaps
his build, perhaps his smell, Draco didn't know which. Although he
had lusted after men for some time, Draco had never given much
thought to muscular body type, until now. His eyes widened, and his
jaw dropped slightly as his eyes roamed over Voldemort's body, from
the wide shoulders, to the narrow waist, the perfect stomach
muscles, to his thick firm thighs. Draco drew his breath deeply.

Voldemort wanted to laugh at him. He had seen Draco laid out over
his father's desk, panting and moaning, he had seen him nearly
naked after a shower, he had seen him with come dripping from his
face, but he had never seen Draco look like that before. Such a
human expression, such a horny teenage expression. Voldemort
knew Draco had just "checked him out", and clearly liked what he
saw.

Voldemort reached for his wand and muttered a spell softly, and
Draco felt a cool rush as his clothes, all except his underwear,
disappeared and now lay on the floor. It was easier than undressing
him by hand, Voldemort thought. He climbed onto the bed beside
Draco, taking him in his arms pushing him down so that Draco lay
almost beneath him. He caressed Draco's face with the back of his
hand and kissed him softly, teasingly on the lips. Draco was
beginning to lose himself, he had accepted now that he could not
fight this. Voldemort worked on his neck next, knowing this to be
effective, and Draco began to melt in his hands.

Draco gave a series of soft moans as Voldemort worked his way

over his collarbones and down to his chest, kissing, gently biting him
and licking him. His hands explored Voldemort's naked shoulders
and upper arms, enjoying the firmness of them. He was strong,
Draco already knew this. He was strong and powerful and in this
moment that turned Draco on immensely.

Voldemort's tongue traced a line up from Draco's stomach, through

the centre of his chest and up to his throat. He lay beside Draco and
he walked his fingers down his body. Starting at his neck he moved
over his chest and down to his stomach. Teasingly his hand trailed
towards the top of his boxer shorts. Draco was already half hard
when Voldemort's hand reached his groin. It took only a few
moments of his hand working there to make Draco fully erect. He
shifted his hips against the touch, welcoming it. He was receptive to
this, curious, interested, but Voldemort wanted more. He wanted him
how he had been the last time, crazed and desperate. He would
enjoy every moment spent working him up to that point.

Slowly and gently Voldemort began to pull at the top of Draco's

underwear, working it down over his hips and thighs until Draco was
quite naked before him. Draco felt very vulnerable at that moment,
he had never been naked in front of Voldemort before, not fully.
Voldemort took in the sight of him, his elegant form, his fragile, pale
body, laid out before him. He ran his fingers over Draco's hips and
traced them lightly into his soft white blond curls at the base of his
cock. Draco shivered and arched his back slightly, urging Voldemort
on, he needed more contact on his erection, he was beginning to
ache for it. He moaned a little.

'Hush, Draco.' Voldemort soothed. 'I will take care of you.'

With that he lowered his head to Draco's groin and took Draco's cock
in his hand. He lowered his lips to the tip of it and flicked his tongue
over the end, tasting Draco's pre-come. Draco felt a wave of ecstasy
wash over him as Voldemort's tongue made contact with his cock.
This was something he had never expected to happen. Although
Voldemort was not sucking him, he was tending to him orally, and
Draco had not imagined he would do that. He used his tongue to
trace the vein than ran the underside of Draco's dick and played his
lips over the head. Draco could feel his cool breath on him, which
contrasted with the subtle warmth of his mouth. The mix of
sensations left Draco on edge guessing which he would feel next.

Voldemort began to firmly work Draco in his hand and he returned

his lips to Draco's. His oral ministrations to Draco's cock had been
effective and Draco was now a trembling mess on the bed before
him, nervous and excited at the same time. Voldemort's hand firmly
around his dick and his mouth on his soft lips, Draco had allowed
himself to be pulled under this tidal wave of sensations and he did
not fight the pleasure that washed over him. Every now and then
thoughts would flit through his mind, he would fleetingly remember
himself, his parents and the identity of this man who was pleasuring
him so completely. When these thoughts crossed his mind he would
sob and flinch and try to anchor himself back in his body, feeling only
the physical pleasure. He knew he would have time to feel the guilt
and shame afterwards, if the Dark Lord decided not to kill him that
was. Draco increasingly thought this was unlikely. He had been
convinced of it when Voldemort was angry, but now, now his kisses
were so searing and deep, and his touch so sensitive Draco thought
he must surely not want to kill him? This was Voldemort however,
and he could undoubtedly lie about how he felt and convince anyone
of anything, but something in this burning passionate embrace had
to be real, it must be, Draco thought . 'Please let something be
real…'

Voldemort had got him so hard that he now bucked his hips up
against his hand. Draco reached his own hand down, desperate to
feel Voldemort's thick, firm cock for himself. He found it ready and
waiting, eager to respond to the touch of his gentle hand. He gripped
it and worked his shaft back and forth, in the same rhythm as
Voldemort worked him.

Voldemort climbed on top of Draco, his body between Draco's naked

thighs, he pressed his hips against him so that their cocks were
pressed together between them, sharing the stimulation as they
thrust against each other. Draco gripped Voldemort's shoulders, and
Voldemort pinned him down firmly. Draco knew he could not move or
escape from Voldemort's strength, but he had no intention of trying
to and he enjoyed having his weight pressing onto him, trapping him,
making him helpless. Draco's eyes fluttered closed and he muttered
small moans of pleasure as the Dark Lord bore down onto him.
Voldemort could have fucked him like that, it was great to see the
look of pained concentration on his face. However, he knew it was
Draco's first time, and it might be easier for him on his knees.
Voldemort was exercising great patience with Draco's needs and
had no intention of holding back once he was fucking him, but he
didn't want to damage the boy, not physically.

Voldemort moved into a kneeling position and pulled Draco into a

seated one. Draco was flushed and looked disorientated, either with
pleasure or from the knock on the head, or both.

'Get on your knees, sweetheart.' Voldemort cooed at him, sounding

both sinister and seductive.

Draco's heart pounded in his chest and his stomach lurched.

'This is it.' He thought. 'I'm going to lose my virginity to Lord

Voldemort. Will it hurt? Yes, probably a lot, because he won't be
gentle. Will it be over quickly? He might kill me afterwards, but he
might not…' Draco could not think clearly, his head swimming, and
he slowly followed the command. He positioned himself in front of
Voldemort with his back to him, and steadied himself by holding onto
the head board.

Voldemort looked at Draco's beautiful back and the fine curve of his
ass and felt he could not wait much longer to take him. He wrapped
his arms around Draco's waist and bit into his neck, making the boy
cry out. He could feel Voldemort's cock pressing against the crack of
his ass now too, which scared him although he pushed back against
it, wanting more. Draco had had enough of being toyed with, he
could not come this far and not go all the way. Knowing this would
come had tormented and frightened him, now it would finally happen.
Voldemort released him from his grasp and pushed him onto all
fours. Draco glanced nervously over his shoulder, Voldemort gave
him a sickly smile and his red eyes gleamed.

Voldemort knew he would have to prepare the boy a little, and he

knew that doing so would result in Draco pleading for it, he was
confident Draco would be begging by the time he was done, despite
his fear. He turned his attention to Draco's ass, caressing lightly at
first, making Draco flinch as his fingers ran over his ass crack. He
pressed into the crevice and his fingers moved lightly over Draco's
entrance. His cold touch was teasing and Draco felt exhilarated by it
and he gasped nervously. Voldemort then spread Draco's cheeks,
wanting to get a good look at him. He loved the sight before him. The
sulky, flouncing boy he had met only the week before, Lucius
Malfoy's son and heir, naked, trembling with nerves and anticipation
with his ass in the air and his cheeks spread. Draco's cute pink
asshole looked very tight and was just begging to be violated and
Voldemort could hardly wait to burry himself inside it.

He lowered his face to Draco's entrance and lightly swept his tongue
over Draco's ring, which startled Draco, yet another sensation he
had not expected. Voldemort covered Draco's entrance with his
mouth and teased the sensitive puckered ring with his tongue, licking
and probing at it, without entering him. Draco felt his desire go
through the roof.

'Holy fuck!' He thought as Voldemort tongued him, 'How does he do

this?'

'Oh Gods!' Moaned Draco. 'Oh fuck, yes!'

'Here we go!' Thought Voldemort, 'and I've only just started on him.
The horny little slut!'

It was time to give Draco his first taste of penetration. He paused for
a second as if to give a warning before he slowly slipped his tongue
into Draco's ass, lubricating him with saliva. Draco was quite
unprepared for this sensation. He had touched himself there ever
since his fantasies had become predominantly about being fucked
by men, but that was quite different to someone else entering him,
and with their tongue!

'Oh!…' He gasped as his eyes widened as he concentrated on the

new sensation. He could feel the stretch of something penetrating
him, but it was not uncomfortable as Voldemort pushed his tongue
deeper into Draco and began to tease inside his hole. Draco had
fallen forward onto the pillow, unable to support himself on his
hands, he was delirious with pleasure and murmured almost
incoherently. 'Oh Gods yes! So good…'

Voldemort enjoyed Draco's reaction, and decided to give him a little

more stimulation. His tongue and lips left Draco's ass, leaving Draco
feeling cold there, and very exposed. He whimpered, asking
wordlessly for more.

Voldemort cast a silent lubrication charm over his hand, to make his
next task easier. Draco was tight and would need this. He moved his
long fingers to Draco's sensitive hole and teased it with his finger tip,
drawing a sharp breath from Draco, who was wanting what would
come next. Voldemort did not hesitate to give it to him, and he
pushed his finger into Draco. This was certainly a rougher
experience than taking his tongue, but it was not all together
unpleasant as Voldemort stimulated inside him. Draco was aware
that it stung a little as his ring was stretched, but something about his
desire for sex was making it feel ok. Voldemort pushed all the way
into him, and was able to reach a spot inside him, touching lightly,
making Draco see stars, giving him just a hint of what was to come.
He cried out in pleasure and the muscles of his ass clenched around
Voldemort's finger.

Draco pushed back, wanting that stimulation again, and Voldemort

decided he was ready for the next step, Draco could take it, he was
certainly keen! The Dark Lord slipped a second finger into Draco,
followed by a third and began to pump them back and forth in
Draco's ass hole. There was some pain now, and Draco's cries were
a mix of pain and pleasure in equal parts.

The pain lessened as Voldemort continued and when he began to

touch Draco's prostate with each forward thrust of his hand, Draco
just lost his mind completely. He screamed, a real scream as the
sensitive spot inside him was repeatedly touched. Voldemort, slowed
down his movements, aware that Draco had got used to the
stretching sensation in his passage after a rough session of
fingering. He reverted to teasing now, gently moving his fingers
inside Draco and tormenting him in that place that drove him wild.

'That feels… that's so… Oh, amazing!' Draco mumbled, unable to

string a real sentence together. 'Oh gods! That's so good, so… Oh…
, Fuck me please, fuck me now! I want you!… need it so bad…
Please, just fuck me!'
'You really want me, do you Draco?' Voldemort asked in a smug,
teasing voice, wanting to hear Draco tell him again.

'Yes!' Draco gasped, 'Oh, fuck yes! I want you. I want you to fuck me,
I want you inside me, please!'

Draco bucked his hips back against Voldemort's hand ferociously as

he begged, even as he spoke, feeling that he was doing the most
unforgivable thing in the world, but was so utterly unable to resist.

'I am inside you…' Voldemort teased. 'Or is this not what you
meant…?' He was going to make Draco say it.

Draco felt a surge of annoyance. 'He's still toying with me!' He

thought. He was embarrassed enough already, his position alone
utterly humiliating, without having to be any more graphic about his
request! However, he would have said just about anything at this
point to get his needs met!

'I want your cock inside me.' Draco half gasped half sobbed with
frustration and shame. 'Please, my Lord, please, just fuck me. I want
your cock in my ass! Oh please, please fuck me!' He cried.

Voldemort smiled an evil smile. That was what he wanted. This was
power play at its best. This was Draco at his best, a pathetic,
pleading mess, prepared to do anything for sex. Voldemort slowly
drew his fingers from Draco's hole, Draco missed the sensation
instantly and looked back at Voldemort with an expression of such
need and desire. He wished he hadn't, as looking at him reminded
him vividly of who it was he was making these requests to, reminded
him that he didn't actually have any choice in this and reminded him
of the danger he was in. Fear flashed across his face.

'I'm going to fuck you Draco Malfoy.' Voldemort hissed. 'I'm going to
fuck you hard and I'm going to fuck you over and over again. I'm
going to make you come until it hurts. You have begged me to fuck
you, and I'm going to do it until you beg me to stop because you
can't take any more.'
This was certainly an intimidating prospect, Draco wasn't sure that
Voldemort would stop if he begged him to, but he simply whispered,

'Please, my Lord…'

Voldemort pressed the head of his cock to Draco's entrance, which

was now reddened and sensitive. He was really going to enjoy doing
this to Draco. He pushed his way inside, slowly, just the tip at first,
knowing his dick was larger than the 3 fingers he had given Draco
moments before. Draco felt this immediately and yelped in pain as
he was stretched more than he had been previously. Voldemort
wanted to give him a moment to adjust to the new sensation, but
holding back was hard as he felt the warm tightness of Draco's ass
around the head of his cock. He slowly began to slip his entire length
into Draco.

'Fuck!' Thought Draco. 'This really hurts, it really, really hurts and he
has only just started. What if I can't take it? He struggled to breath
calmly as he tried to adjust his position to help accommodate
Voldemort's large dick in his passage. As Voldemort penetrated him
fully, Draco was more and more taken over by a deep pain ripping
through his body and it caused him to cry out in distress. Before,
being entered had felt so good, but this was too much.

Voldemort took hold of his hips and worked slowly back and forth,
hissing with pleasure. He was aware of Draco's pain and distress.
He found it mildly arousing, and also felt that if he continued Draco
would relax and get used to the sensation, then his cries would turn
to pleasure again.

As he fucked him, the pain did lessen as Draco got used to being so
filled. The intense stinging turned to a tingling sensation around his
ring, and the stretching of his passage began to feel more arousing
than uncomfortable. As his cries became less anxious, Voldemort
responded with a deep thrust, more forceful than the previous ones.
The head of his cock assaulted Draco's prostate and Draco almost
came instantly, screaming in pleasure. Voldemort took from this that
Draco was ready, at last, and he began to fuck him in earnest. He
drove deep into him with hard punishing thrusts, slamming his hips
against Draco's cheeks. Draco screamed again and again as he was
repeatedly pounded, almost losing it completely as Voldemort hit the
spot inside him.

His thrusts got faster and faster and he gripped Draco's hip bones so
tightly that Draco began to bruise instantly. Voldemort was so strong
and Draco fairly light and slim, he felt almost as if he was a rag doll
as Voldemort dragged his hips back and then slammed him forwards
into the pillow.

'This what you wanted, Draco?' Barked Voldemort, as Draco

struggled to remain on his knees through the force of Voldemort's
thrusts.

'Yes!' Draco found himself saying, although Voldemort was fucking

him so hard now it was not easy to speak. It felt rough and
degrading, but it felt arousing too. Draco felt wanted because of the
desperate way Voldemort was taking him, and he was hitting Draco's
prostate with his cock over and over, pushing Draco towards
orgasm.

'Going to.. come…' Draco managed to gasp.

'Yes, come for me Draco. ' Growled Voldemort. I'm going to make
you come for me all night!'

He pulled Draco up by his shoulders so that Draco's back rested

against his chest. Voldemort had Draco in his lap and continued to
fuck him with sharp upward thrusts. He reached his cold hand round
to Draco's cock and began to tug him.

Panting and breathless, Draco flopped back against Voldemort's

chest…

'Ohhhhh, Gods!' He moaned as Voldemort began to work on his

dick.
The combined stimulation of his ass and his cock soon overtook him.
The Dark Lord gave him a particularly deep thrust, hammering into
the bundle of nerves in Draco's ass, driving him to the most intense
orgasm of his life. Draco nearly passed out as his fluid sprayed over
the bed before him.

'Fuck, oh fuck yes!' He gasped.

Voldemort had slowed his thrusting for a moment, to feel Draco's

passage contract around him as he came, he rode Draco's climax
with him, but had not come himself.

Making Draco come had been exhilarating. He found Draco quite

irresistible, and had done since he had first set eyes on him at the
Manor. He knew then, he had to have him. He understood
completely why Draco's parents had wanted their son safely locked
away! Voldemort particularly got off on the fact that Draco was
Lucius's son. Lucius had been getting far too confident and sure of
the Dark Lords favour recently. It would take him down a peg or two
to know that the Dark Lord was fucking his only son, and Voldemort
fully intended to make a regular habit of it. The circumstances made
the sex all the more arousing.

Giving Draco very little time to recover, he flung him down onto his
hands again and took hold of his waist roughly. He pushed Draco
down hard so that he was laying on his front and Voldemort
continued to pound him from behind. It was more uncomfortable like
this, even for Voldemort as Draco felt tighter, especially as he
continued to twitch with pleasure after his climax. Voldemort showed
no signs of slowing or finishing, Draco arched his back to allow
Voldemort to penetrate him more deeply. Draco gripped the pillow in
front of him and hugged it hard, failing to fight back cries of ecstasy
as the dark lord relentlessly fucked him.

'There's no way in hell I should be enjoying this!' Draco thought to

himself, but it was physically overwhelming, and whatever Voldemort
did to him felt so mind meltingly hot, Draco simply gave himself over
to it.
He blamed himself for the whole situation, as he felt he had not
resisted Voldemort at all. Partly because he thought he might be
killed, that was a factor, but also because of more shameful reasons.
He had tried to play Voldemort at his own game, and failed
catastrophically. Then he had felt desperate to be touched again,
and had only put up minimal resistance because he worried his
parents would hear. Today, Voldemort had practically abducted him
from home, hit him and thrown him across the room like a toy before
screwing him, and he had never once even tried to say 'no.'

'I'm definitely going to go to hell.' Thought Draco as he felt himself

getting hard again, only minutes after he had come.

Draco managed to prop himself up on his elbows and he flicked his

blond hair back, which was wet with sweat. Voldemort drove into him
hard with a steady rhythm, making him moan with pleasure.

'That's so good… You feel so good! You feel… Gods!… Amazing!'

Draco panted.

Draco had been frightened about being fucked, as Voldemort had

said he would fuck Draco all night and Draco had been scared it
would hurt. Now Draco found himself hoping the Dark Lord was as
good as his word. Draco hated himself.

'You fuck so good! My gods, you're amazing!' He whimpered.

Voldemort smiled internally at the adorable things Draco said. He

had said "you feel so good" and "you're amazing"… Definitely not
what people usually said, or were meant to say, when Voldemort
fucked them. Even the willing followers he had fucked from time to
time usually kept up their cowering servant roles throughout. Draco
did address him directly as "my Lord" but he spoke to him like a
lover. It was charmingly naive of him.

'You love it don't you?' Voldemort laughed.

'Yes, fuck, yes!' Answered Draco. 'It feels so good, please, don't
stop!'

'Not going to, sweetheart.' Voldemort replied and ploughed deep into
Draco with one long hard stroke. Draco screamed and felt himself
coming again.

'Yes, Draco!' Hissed Voldemort, feeling him contract around him

once more. 'Good boy! Come for me!'

This time after Draco climaxed, Voldemort did withdraw from him,
which gave the delirious Draco a moment or two to recover, although
he was not sure he wanted to ever recover, not fully. He certainly did
not want to ever return to thinking logically and have to face the
reality of what he had done. He had mere moments to catch his
breath, before Voldemort encouraged him over onto his back.
Voldemort wanted to see Draco's face and be able to watch his
expression next time he climaxed. Draco lifted his knees up and
Voldemort grabbed his ankles, securing him there. Draco was young,
lithe and flexible and it was easy to push his knees up to his
shoulders, making his abused ass all the more easy to access.

Voldemort thrust his cock deep into Draco, getting amazing

penetration in this new position. He hit Draco's sweet spot right away
but Draco had come twice now, so intensely, he was not sure how
much more he could take. He writhed with pleasure as Voldemort
screwed him hard and fast, forcefully restraining his wrists now, for
no reason other than for the fun of it. Draco didn't mind at first but
the sensations in his body were building again and becoming too
much. Voldemort watched his face flush and he screwed his eyes
shut, trying to lessen the sensory overload he was experiencing.
From this position he had to look directly into Voldemort's face too,
and that was terrifying him but also making him feel like getting hard
again. Draco felt afraid, he didn't think it would be physically possible
for him to come again, but the constant abuse of his prostate had
him going that way. He felt his head swimming and he felt like he
might faint. He opened his eyes to try to remain conscious and found
that he was looking directly into Voldemort's eyes. Draco's deep grey
eyes widened with fear and arousal. He tried to focus but as the
feelings ripping through his body became more intense, he began to
see black spots in front of his eyes and he felt his body temperature
rise far too fast…

'Please…' He panted 'Oh, gods!… Too much! I can't…' His whole

body began to convulse.

The fear in his wide eyes and the convulsive trembling of his delicate
body as he was forced to reach his third orgasm was too much for
Voldemort. Seeing Draco's pretty face, flushed with heat and desire,
and hearing him finally admit that the pleasure was too much, drove
Voldemort climax with Draco. Draco had not imagined he could have
felt anything more deeply than the first orgasm Voldemort had given
him as he fucked him, but feeling the Dark Lord come inside him
took things to a whole new level. He felt Voldemort pump his come
into him, felt it flow out of his throbbing cock and fill his passage.
Draco blacked out, although only for a moment.

After Draco's momentary lapse of consciousness, Voldemort climbed

off him and sat back, watching him. Draco was not sure he could
move, but he felt embarrassed in the position he was in so he fought
with his bruised aching body to move into a seated position, his
knees drawn up.

Delighted, Voldemort though he would never forget how Draco

looked in that moment. Dazed, confused, flushed, bruised and
marked, his eyes still tear stained, his hair was matted at the back by
the friction from the pillow, making it stick up all over. Despite this,
Draco looked thoroughly satisfied and like he probably just wanted to
sleep for a few days to recover. Voldemort half smiled. Draco had
been more satisfying to fuck than he had dared to imagine, and this
was only the first time. He handed Draco a short black dressing
gown and Draco gratefully wrapped it around his trembling
shoulders. Voldemort gestured towards a door on the far side of the
room.
'Go to the bathroom, Draco, love.' He said calmly. 'Wash your face,
you look like you need to cool down a little.'

Draco did not know how, but somehow his bruised and shaking legs
managed to carry him there and he was inside the bathroom with the
door locked before he collapsed on the floor.
Chapter 8
Sitting on the bathroom floor, Draco Malfoy struggled to keep from
passing out. The room was dazzlingly white after the dark bedroom
and he squinted a little in order to focus. He pulled himself over to
the sink and turned the cold tap on full, sticking his hands under the
refreshing cold water for some time before splashing it liberally onto
his face and neck. He felt like he might be sick, but deciding he was
ok, he pulled himself up and sat on the toilet, resting his head in his
hands.

His heart rate was racing and his temperature was high, but both
began to fall as he sat in the white tiled room, breathing deeply and
trying to return to some feeling of normality. He hurt everywhere. He
wanted to sleep. He touched the left side of his face and he flinched
in pain. He was injured there, he had forgotten. Slowly and
tentatively he stood up and leaning on the edge of the basin, he
dared to look into mirror.

He wished he had not. He was as pale as a ghost now that his

temperature had dropped, and the dark bruise and the blood on his
face stood out dramatically. He washed it so that he could assess
the real damage. The cut was small, but the bruising extensive, he
had an impressive black eye coming. There were numerous dark
bruises on his neck as well as brown bruises in the shape of fingers
on his arms and wrists. He removed the dressing gown and he
looked down, seeing bruises on his hips and thighs also. He
splashed more cold water over himself and ran his fingers through
his messy hair to try and smooth it.

'Oh Gods! Oh Gods! What have I done?' Draco berated himself. He

looked at his frantic reflection in the mirror and wondered just who
that wild eyed, crazed boy was who stared back at him. 'I'm going to
hell for this, this is ALL my fault. How could I have done that? With
HIM? Oh Gods, I should die, I WILL die and when I do I am going
straight to hell!' Draco fought to control his breathing.
'But he's finished with you now, maybe you can beg to be allowed to
go home… But will mother and father take me back after this? But
they don't know what happened… you could lie… or at least lie
about some of it… They don't have to know about the things you
said… Oh Gods! I want to die!'

Draco was utterly mortified and ashamed, but he calmed himself with
the idea he could maybe go home… And then he would run away.
Yes, he would leave. He would never see anyone who knew him
ever again. He would hide in a cave in the mountains and sit outside
in the rain every day until he felt clean again… Which he probably
never would, but at least he would never again have to face looking
at another person, or another mirror.

'But you have to go back out there now…' He reminded himself, 'If
you want to leave at all…' And so he finished in the bathroom and
wrapped the dressing gown around himself again and dared to go
back into the bedroom.

He looked composed, but bruised and vulnerable. The room was

dark after the bathroom, but lighter than before as some candles on
an free standing candelabra were now burning at the foot of the bed.
Voldemort was laid on his back on the bed, was he asleep?

Tentatively Draco walked across the room and stooped to pick up his
trousers, then he headed towards his shirt and reached for that, his
eyes on the door. He picked up his jacket and turned towards the
exit…

'Where do you think you're going, love?' Came a silky hiss from the
bed. Voldemort had been watching him.

Draco froze on the spot.

'Come back to bed, my pet.' Voldemort said, his voice soft but
commanding.
Draco knew he could not refuse. He carried his clothes over to the
bed and set them down beside it. Voldemort had slipped beneath the
covers and he turned them back for Draco to join him. Draco sat
nervously on the edge of the bed. He did not want to get under a
duvet with Voldemort, no way!

'How the fuck,' thought Draco 'How the fuck is being under a duvet
WORSE than what you have just been doing?' But somehow it felt
like it was.

Voldemort looked at him questioningly and Draco lifted his feet onto
the bed, because he felt he was being asked to. Voldemort flicked
the covers over him and reached over, encouraging him to lie down.
Draco lay on his back perfectly rigid and still, but Voldemort put his
arm over him and hugged him.

'You feel calmer now Draco.' Voldemort whispered. 'Are you alright?'
He kissed Draco's neck gently and slipped his other arm under him,
so that he held him completely.

It was easier to turn towards him. It was easier to bury his face in
Voldemort's shoulder. It was easier to drape his arm over Voldemort
and rest his hand on his back. It was easier to put his lips against
Voldemort's naked chest and whisper,

'I'm ok.' In a soft and gentle voice. It was easier to kiss him after he
spoke. It was easier to feel the warmth of the embrace and the
weight of the bed clothes pulling him into a deep sleep. It was just
easier.
Chapter 9
Falling asleep in someone's arms is an emotionally overwhelming
experience, particularly when you do it for the first time, and
particularly when you have just lost your virginity to them. It's easy to
find yourself accidently feeling all sorts of things you never meant to
feel for them. You might almost want them to do something unkind to
you, so that you can go back to hating them, like you know you
should.

As Draco woke, he was momentarily unsure of where he was, and

indeed of who it was on top of him, restraining him. He had mere
seconds before the memories returned. He was with Voldemort,
Voldemort had fucked him, and by the looks of things he was going
to do it again. Draco was tired, and still aching from the first time. He
tried to fight.

'No!' He moaned, still half asleep. 'No. Stop.' He tried to push

Voldemort away but he was not strong enough. Had he been fully
awake he might have realised this and not even tried to fight.

Voldemort grabbed his arms and pinned him down to the bed.

'Stop fighting me, Draco! You don't have a choice!' He hissed

maliciously. Draco sobbed and Voldemort pushed his way towards
Draco's entrance.

He took Draco roughly, Draco was totally unprepared. Draco cried

out in pain as he was penetrated and he writhed and thrashed trying
to escape from under his attacker. Voldemort's thrusts hurt him a lot.
He was sore from the first time and Voldemort hadn't taken care to
make him ready this time. Draco felt sick and his insides were on
fire. He sobbed with pain.

'Please… stop, please. It hurts! Please stop.' Draco sobbed, his face
wet with tears.
Voldemort had heard words like this all too often, and this was not
what he wanted from Draco. It made him angry. He raised his hand
and slapped Draco hard across the face.

'Shut Up!' He shouted at him. 'Tell me you want me, or just shut up!'

Draco was taken aback by the slap, it hurt, but took his mind off the
other pain for a moment and he was almost grateful.

Without trying to, Draco read an emotion from Voldemort as he had

struck him. Voldemort was sad. He was genuinely sad that Draco
had told him to stop, he was sad because Draco was rejecting him.

' A logical thing to do would be to fucking stop then!' Draco thought,

but Voldemort didn't stop. Draco suddenly felt furiously angry.

'Damn you to hell!' He shouted back at Voldemort. 'I won't tell you I
want you, I asked you to stop, you bastard!'

'Nice one.' He thought. ' A one way ticket to a slow and painful death
is what you've just earned yourself!' But he could not override the
anger he felt.

Voldemort was so utterly taken a back he actually did stop still for a
moment. What had Draco just said?

Draco took the chance to dig his fingernails into Voldemort's wrists,
hard enough to draw blood. Voldemort flinched in pain, his eyes
widened and his mouth fell open in shock. But Draco read another
emotion from him in this window of opportunity. Regret. And a desire
for things to be how they had been before.

Voldemort looked at his damaged wrist, which meant one of Draco's

hands was now free. Voldemort stared at the line of dark red blood
running down his grey skin. Draco was smiling! He was actually
smiling! Voldemort had tortured and killed people for less than this!
'How… How DARE you?' He stammered, he slapped Draco across
the face twice in rapid succession.

Draco's free hand shot up to Voldemort's shoulder and he scratched

down his arm, four deep scratches from which blood began to flow
almost straight away. Voldemort froze in disbelief. Draco must be
insane, there was no other answer! Draco brought his blood covered
hand to his face and looked at it, smiling, pleased he had got a little
of his own back after the punch he had taken last night, even if he
would pay dearly for it. He suddenly felt extremely aroused. He
looked up at Voldemort, his eyes narrowed, with an evil, playful
smile,

'What's the matter?' He said coolly, 'I thought you liked to play
rough?'

Crazy with anger and lust, Voldemort dived down onto Draco and
began to kiss him hard. Draco took hold of him roughly as Voldemort
began to fuck him again, harder than ever before. Draco fought
against him with his hands, but kissed him deeply as they wrestled
each other.

Voldemort must have conceded to let Draco push him, as Draco was
not strong enough to have done it himself. Draco found that he had
pushed Voldemort onto his back and Draco climbed on top of him.
He felt a little unsure of what to do now because he hadn't imagined
them being in this position, neither had Voldemort. Until now,
Voldemort had been in complete control of everything that had taken
place, the way this was playing out was quite unexpected, but not
unwelcome. He looked up a Draco, who looked exhilarated and
flushed from their fight.

' Gods! The boy is beautiful!'

'You want to ride me, Draco, you little slut?' He laughed aggressively
at the way Draco was straddling him.
'Fuck, yes!' Hissed Draco. He reached for Voldemort's cock and
pushed it against his entrance. He pushed back hard onto him.

Draco had expected pain, but lust had taken over him and he didn't
care about pain now. He took the whole length and began to work
his hips back and forth. He flicked his hair back and gasped in
ecstasy as he felt the now welcome sensation of Voldemort inside
him. He rode his cock like he was born to do it.

Draco looked amazing like this, truly, beyond amazing. Voldemort

could see the muscles in his toned body and could watch every
expression cross his angelic face, although he was a fallen angel at
best. Voldemort doubted angles were meant to behave like this.

Draco moaned with pleasure, it was a new experience for him to be

the one in control. From this new position he could control the speed
and the depth of penetration, he could push back when he wanted
the intensity and could work lightly when he wanted teasing.

Voldemort could have watched Draco like this forever, pleasuring

himself against his cock, but he knew he would not last long. He
noticed Draco was erect and he wanted to get Draco to come with
him. He took Draco's cock in his hand and began to work his hand
back and forth…

'Ohh, yes!' Moaned Draco 'Gods, that's good!'

'You whore!' Voldemort hissed with a smile. Draco blushed a little.

'You're so good, you make me want it!' Draco replied.

'So, you are only a whore for me?' Voldemort teased.

'Only for you.' Draco answered. 'Always for you.'

Draco could feel his climax approaching and he began to ride

Voldemort harder and harder, taking him deeply with each thrust.
The delicious tightness of Draco's passage, his beautiful body and
his perfect face… Voldemort was close. As Draco arched his hips
and pushed backwards hard, Voldemort felt his balls tighten and
moments later his was filling Draco with his come. Draco felt
Voldemort's dick pulsing inside him and as Voldemort tugged him, he
reached orgasm too, spraying his fluid over Voldemort's chest.

Panting, Draco climbed off and lay beside Voldemort, who reached
for his wand.

'OK, now he's going to kill you.' Draco thought. But instead,
Voldemort simply uttered a cleaning charm over himself and Draco,
before putting his wand safely away.

Both of them had reason to feel unnerved by what had just

happened, but both were too overtaken by exhaustion, neither one
gave too much thought to it. Voldemort pulled the covers over
himself and Draco, who's head was resting on Voldemorts shoulder,
eyes closed.

Later Draco would tell himself 'It happened in the middle of the night,
perhaps it was a dream…?'
Chapter 10
'Just get out! Go, and bring breakfast. And a healing potion. And
don't EVER walk in here without knocking, EVER again if you value
your life!'

'Yes master, of course master…' A grovelling voice replied.

Draco lifted his head from the pillow, he was almost completely
covered with the duvet. He often slept like that, wrapped up in the
blanket, even his head. It made him feel safe.

'Where am I? What am I doing here… Oh. Oh fuck.'

Voldemort was sitting up in the bed, he had clearly been awake for
some time and had let Draco sleep. Draco looked up at him,
ashamed and frightened. Draco felt very, very awkward. What was
the etiquette for this situation? It was not one of the social scenarios
his parents had ever taught him about.

'Good morning, Draco.' Voldemort said casually. 'You slept well?'

'Yes. My Lord.' Draco replied, sitting up and looking to Voldemort for

some kind of clue about what he was supposed to do now.
Voldemort passed Draco his dressing gown.

'Go and splash some water on your face, it will help you wake up.'
He told him.

Draco followed his instructions and was grateful of a few moments

alone in the cold white bathroom, to wake up and compose himself.
He only vaguely remembered being in there the night before, but it
felt like a calming, safe retreat. He gave very little thought to what
would happen to him and simply returned to the bedroom. He had
reached the point where he had no plans and tactics. He could only
respond to what ever happened next in the best way he could think
of at the time. There was still a chance he might get to go home.
Draco returned to the bed, voluntarily climbing back in and sitting
almost exactly as he had been before he had got up. Voldemort
leaned over a kissed him. Kissed him as if they were two ordinary
people waking up in bed together, kissed him as though this was the
most normal situation in the world. Draco's raised eyebrows must
have given away his surprise.

'Something wrong, love?' Voldemort mused in a careless tone.

'Errr, no. My Lord.' Draco lied.

'Perhaps you always look so dazed and confused first thing in the
morning?' Voldemort's smile had a sharp sting to it, but he gently
stroked Draco's face as he spoke. Draco flinched a little, mostly
because it was unexpected.

Just then, the door flew open, and they both to looked up sharply.
The man Draco had heard Voldemort speaking to before had
returned with a tray in his hands. Draco did not know who he was,
this rodent-featured man. He looked like a servant, someone lowly
and dirty. But no matter how lowly he might be, he was now a
witness to Draco's current circumstances, and that gave him power
over Draco, as Draco did not want anybody to know about this.
Draco hung his head and stared down at the sheets to avoid eye
contact. He knew the man was staring at him, he could feel it. Was
Draco one of many companions the Dark Lord shared his bed with?
Was this servant staring simply to get a look at the latest conquest?
Perhaps there was a different one every night? Surely Voldemort
didn't do this every night, and by day have the energy to plan a
military campaign for world domination?

The servant scuttled over with the breakfast tray and set it down on a
small table at the side of the bed.

'Breakfast, my Lord, as you ordered.' He simpered. Voldemort simply

nodded at him. The rat-like man crept round to Draco and leered at
him for a moment before extending a scabby claw to lift Draco's chin
in order to look at him.
'Lucius Malfoy's son!' He said with a smirk of admiration, as though
he were congratulating Voldemort on the conquest. Embarrassed,
Draco jerked his head away from the man's hand. The man laughed,
but Voldemort was not amused.

A flash of light sent the servant flying across the room. He hit the
wall and crumpled to the floor. Draco looked at Voldemort, who had
his wand drawn, his face clouded with fury.

'Touch him again, Wormtail, and I'll torture you until you forget your
own name, you wretched piece of scum.' Voldemort spat, his voice
angry, but just cool enough to let Wormtail know this was no empty
threat.

Wormtail scrabbled to the door.

'So sorry, master.' He grovelled as he left the room as quickly as he

could.

Voldemort put his wand down and turned to Draco, once more calm
and composed.

'I must apologise, Draco, for the poor behaviour of my servant. He

will not act that way towards you again.' Voldemort said in a civilised
voice. Draco simply nodded, he did not know what to say.

Voldemort turned towards the table and handed a teacup to Draco.

Draco eyed it suspiciously. The contents looked like tea, and he
would have practically killed for some, but he didn't quite trust it.
Voldemort had a cup also.

'It's perfectly safe, love!' Voldemort smiled and drank some himself to
prove it.

'Hell!' Thought Draco, 'Even if it's poisoned, I don't care!' He drank it

gratefully. Voldemort attentively poured him some more. He held a
plate towards Draco, with some dark brown toast on it.
'Eat something, Draco.' Voldemort encouraged. 'You are quite thin, I
don't think your parents feed you enough.'

Draco sat up a little at the mention of his parents. He tentatively took

a piece of the toast and tried his best to eat. Draco was not a good
eater at the best of times, and right now he found it very difficult
indeed.

Draco almost wanted to laugh, the way people do when they are
nervous and know they shouldn't. This was, without doubt the
strangest situation he had ever been in. Having breakfast in bed with
Lord Voldemort? How had this happened? And why was breakfast
stranger and more uncomfortable than sex? Sex was animalistic,
Draco could claim some degree of mindlessness, some loss of
control over his actions, but this, this was something else entirely.
This was civilised. This was the sort of thing normal people did.
Voldemort was not a normal person. Draco had been once, but he
was pretty sure he wasn't now. Somehow he managed to eat half a
slice of toast.

'More?' Voldemort offered.

'No, thank you.' Draco replied, the one piece had been hard enough
work. Draco did accept more tea, however.

Voldemort picked up the potion bottle and shook it.

'You need to take some of this.' He told Draco. He looked at the

scratch marks on his own arm… 'And so do I, it seems!' He gave
Draco a stern, but playful look.

Draco recognised the potion immediately. It was a long acting

healing potion, the kind that worked many hours after the injuries
had taken place. Many healing potions had to be taken right away to
be effective, but there were one or two that worked hours, even days
after. Voldemort poured half into each of their tea cups and drank his
right away. Draco watched as the deep scratches on his arms began
to close up and heal leaving the skin as smooth as they had never
been there at all.

'Drink it, Draco.' Voldemort insisted. 'I can't very well take you home
looking like that, now can I?'

'You're taking me home?' Draco asked, so amazed that he nearly

dropped the teacup.

Voldemort smiled at him. 'I'm afraid you can't stay here permanently
love. You have to go back to school, don't you?' How touching, he
thought, that Draco wanted to stay with him.

'Oh.' Said Draco. 'Yes.' A little confused about this conversation. He

drank the potion and felt the familiar tingle sweep over him as it
healed all of his cuts and bruises. Voldemort took the teacup from
him and placed it back on the tray.

'I think we will shower before I take you home.' Said Voldemort
decidedly, and he got up, took Draco's hands and lead him to the
bathroom.
Chapter 11
The bathroom had been a clean, white, safe place. Now Voldemort
was there with Draco, It didn't feel so clean and safe anymore, the
atmosphere prickled with anticipation. Draco felt nervous. Voldemort
reached into the large shower cubicle at the far end and turned the
old brass handle to start the water.

Draco watched him. Clearly they were going to shower together, but
then Draco was going home. He was going home, alive and well.
Reasonably well, depending on what happened next, and as well as
could be expected after what had already happened. He was
amazed at his own resilience. All that mattered was that he WAS
going home, he WOULD be going back to school. He had done what
he had done, but seemingly he would walk away and have a normal
life. He felt like he had cheated at something but was getting away
with it. What happened now didn't matter.

He watched as Voldemort unfastened his dressing gown and let it fall

to the floor. The room was filling with steam, but he was still able to
get a good look at Voldemort's body.

' Gods, he's really muscular!' Thought Draco to himself. 'I wonder if
he works out…?' It seemed unlikely and Draco gave an
embarrassed little laugh as he thought it… ' Lord Voldemort, working
out, really?'

Voldemort noticed Draco's cute, shy giggle. Draco was probably still
nervous about seeing him naked! He loosened Draco's dressing
gown and slipped his hands underneath, running them over Draco's
thighs and hips. Draco put his arms around Voldemort's waist and
when Voldemort kissed him, he welcomed his lips and kissed back
with just the perfect pressure. Draco was going to play his cards right
if it meant going home! He slipped out of the dressing gown and
allowed Voldemort to lead him into the shower.
'Just get through this and it'll be ok.' Draco told himself. 'Just do
whatever he wants now, and soon you'll be home. By mid-day, you'll
be home and it will all be over and you will be ok. It won't be too bad,
you have done it before and it wasn't as bad as you thought…'

Draco pep-talked to himself, they way he always did to get through

something he didn't want to do. Draco was holding back the real fear
that was growing within him. The fear that he was no longer afraid
that sex with Voldemort would be bad, but that it would be good.

Although the healing potion had done its job well, the heat and the
pressure of the shower was still most welcome and Draco sighed as
he felt his muscles relax a little. Voldemort stood behind Draco,
lathering up some soap. He began to wash Draco's back and
shoulders, his strong hands working into the tightness of Draco's
muscles, helping him relax further. The massage felt good, great
actually. The soap smelled very different to the soap that Draco used
at home. This soap smelled, musky, deep and woody, it was the way
Voldemort always smelled.

'Fuck! Why is that so arousing?' Draco cursed as he felt himself

getting hard as he breathed in the smell and yielded to Voldemort's
touch. He was not alone in his arousal, he could feel the tip of
Voldemort's erection brushing against his ass cheek.

Draco turned to face Voldemort and pressed his body against him.
The heat, the water, the soap made it all too much of a turn on as
their naked bodies touched. They kissed hungrily, with deep
passionate kisses and slow, firm caresses. Voldemort stood back,
hands on Draco's shoulders, to look at him.

'May I wash your pretty hair, Draco?' He asked softly. He was

ASKING, he was really asking! In the past, questions had not really
been questions, as much as statements of intent, but this was a
question.

'Errrr, Yeah, sure… If you want.' Draco replied. It seemed an odd

thing to ask, as well as being odd that he HAD asked. 'Hair
washing… I think I can cope with that!' Draco thought. 'Hair washing
is nothing!'

Shampoo in his hands, Voldemort reached up and ran his long

fingers through Draco's hair, his touch light and teasing. He rested
his hands lightly on Draco's crown, before gently sweeping his
fingers up from his temples. He kissed Draco's slightly parted lips
before beginning to lather the shampoo in Draco's hair. His fingers
worked firmly but gently on Draco's scalp, he could be incredibly
gentle when he wanted to be. Draco closed his eyes, sighing with
pleasure.

His hands caressed Draco's hair, teased over his neck and his face.
His fingers massaged his head and from time to time, he brushed his
lips lightly over Draco's mouth, all the while, the warm water still
falling over their naked bodies, the room full of steam. He cradled the
back of Draco's head in his hands as he worked the shampoo
through his blond hair. Draco felt himself melting.

'It wasn't supposed to be like this!' He thought. How could hair

washing be so intense, so intimate, so arousing? From feeling like
he would just have to grit his teeth to get through an ordeal, Draco
had begun to want nothing more than to drown beneath this wave of
pleasure and give himself to Voldemort completely. If a world existed
outside of this shower cubicle, Draco had quite forgotten it.

Draco moaned a little, with an embarrassed smile and low laugh.

Voldemort cupped his face.

'What is it, love? He whispered. Draco blushed.

'This is really… it's… errr… nice.' He concluded, sounding surprised

and nervous. Voldemort smiled.

'When I came to your room that night, I told you then I only wanted to
be nice to you.' Voldemort whispered. 'But you always are so afraid
of me.' He kissed him, running his tongue over Draco's lips, as the
shampoo ran down Draco's back.
'I am afraid of you.' Draco confessed, 'But I want you, too. Everything
you do, makes me want you more.'

'And I want you, little Draco Malfoy.' Said Voldemort with a smile as
he thrust his hips against Draco's erect cock. He put his lips to
Draco's neck and kissed him softly before deepening the kiss to an
intense bite which made Draco gasp and have to hold on tightly to
Voldemort to remain standing.

Voldemorts hands ran down Draco's back and over his ass, feeling
the curve of his cheeks. His fingers worked gently into Draco's ass
crack and teased over his entrance, touching his ring lightly. Draco
pressed against Voldemort, pushing their soapy cocks together.
Voldemort pushed the tip of one finger into Draco, who was ready to
welcome this intrusion and sighed with pleasure.

'Mmmmm, yes!' He moaned, pushing back now as Voldemort slipped

his finger inside him. Turning Draco round, so that he faced the wall,
Voldemort had better access to Draco's ass, and he continued to
pleasure him, slipping a second soapy finger into his passage. Draco
pushed back hard now, wanting it badly.

'Fuck, that's good!' He whispered. 'Don't stop ' He bucked his hips
back hard. 'Need more!'

'My insatiable little dragon!' Voldemort laughed, and gave Draco a

third finger. He thrust in hard, hitting the spot and Draco cried out in
ecstasy. Draco leant against the wall to steady himself. Voldemort
pumped his hand in and out of Draco, who bucked back hard against
him, hands against the wall to help him push back.

'Gods, yes!' Draco cried, quiet uninhibited now. 'Fuck, I want you so
bad! Fuck me, just fuck me now.'

'You are very demanding!' Laughed Voldemort. He was desperately

hard now from watching the horny teenage boy fucking himself
against his hand, but it was fun to tease Draco. Draco had very little
self control when he was turned on, which made playing with him all
the more entertaining.

'Please!' Whimpered Draco. 'He likes me to beg…' 'Please, I want

you, you are amazing, you are so, so good. I need you, you make
me so… so…'

'Dirty…?' Voldemort offered. 'I bought you in here to get you clean!'

'You turn me on, so much!' Draco cried. 'I want you so much!'

Voldemort would never get tired of hearing that.

'You're amazing, Draco.' He whispered, close to Draco's ear. 'And I

want to fuck you. The first moment I set eyes on you, I wanted to
fuck you!' He withdrew his fingers from Draco's ass and before
Draco had had a chance to miss them, he replaced them with his
long, thick cock.

Taking hold of Draco's hips, he drove hard into him. The soap and
the water made penetration easier, but the wetness of Draco's skin
meant that he had to grip him hard, creating fresh bruises where the
old ones had healed. Draco cried out with pleasure as he got what
he needed.

'Fuck, Draco, you feel so good!' Voldemort hissed as Draco's ass

clenched around his cock. He loved the tightness of him, and the
way he pushed back into each thrust was fantastic. Voldemort
wished he could keep Draco here permanently.

'My gods!' Draco gasped. 'My gods, you fuck so good!' He could feel
his body building up towards an overpowering climax. 'You feel
amazing!'

'Gods, you love it, don't you, you dirty little slut?' Voldemort hissed,
his own climax approaching, but he was determined to hold on as
long as he could, wanting to get Draco there and feel him come
while he fucked him.
'Yes, I fucking love it!' Draco cried. 'Oh gods, yes!'

Voldemort pounded Draco's ass harder and harder, loving Draco's

sex talk. He seemed naturally so shy and reserved, it was great to
get him worked up like this. He slammed his hips against Draco's
ass cheeks, and Draco felt himself tensing up as he was about to
come. Voldemort could feel how close Draco was.

'You like that, Draco? Then come for me, sweetheart.' He drawled as
he pumped him with deep forceful thrusts.

'Oh fuck, yeah…' Moaned Draco and he felt his body jolt violently as
he came hard, spraying his come down the wall in front of him.
Voldemort hadn't even touched his cock this time, he had made
Draco come purely by fucking him in the ass, and 'Gods!' Draco
thought, 'It felt incredible!'

Feeling Draco come like that had been enough for Voldemort, and
he came mere moments afterwards, flooding Draco with fluid.

Draco's knees had almost given way, he was pressed against the
wall, it was the only thing keeping him standing. He panted for breath
as Voldemort drew out of him. Draco turned to look at him, leaning
his back against the wall, he felt he still needed it to remain upright.
Voldemort extended his hands to Draco, who took hold of them and
Voldemort pulled him forward into an embrace.

Draco rested his head against Voldemort's chest and closed his eyes
as Voldemort stroked his back. They both sighed deeply and smiled
as they held each other. It was affectionate. Affection was still more
uncomfortable than sex, but Draco felt he was probably in too deep
at this precise moment to worry about it. He nuzzled his face into
Voldemort's skin and kissed him. Voldemort hugged him tightly and
kissed the top of Draco's head.

'What am I doing? It wasn't meant to be like this…' were thoughts

that ran through both of their minds for various reasons, but neither
one fought it.
Neither one really wanted the moment of post-sex bliss to end, but
eventually Voldemort spoke, feeling the need to be back in control,
as quickly as possible.

'Come, Draco. We need to get you home.' He said gently,

disentangling himself from Draco's grip.

Draco nearly died of shock as he felt himself about to say 'No!', he

stopped himself just in time.

'Oh, Ok.' He said softly.

Chapter 12
Voldemort appareted with Draco into the grounds of the manor, near
to the front door. They had to hold on to each other, in order to
apparate together, they could have just linked arms, but Draco had
wrapped his arms around Voldemorts waist, just to be sure. Once
they had arrived, he was reluctant to let go, but he did not want to
appear needy, so he stepped back right away.

Voldemort looked at him, and stroked his hair, with a smile. Draco
looked up at the manor. He was home, he was safe. He turned to
Voldemort.

'Thank you.' He said, quietly.

'What for?' Voldemort asked.

The right answer was 'for bringing me home' . The wrong answer
was 'for everything.' Draco said nothing. He didn't need to, Voldemort
knew what he meant.

Voldemort leaned in to kiss Draco. He kissed him softly on the

mouth.

'I will see you again, when I can, Draco.' He assured him.

'You will?' Asked Draco, excited and scared. What was this thing that
was happening to him?

'You are mine now, Draco.' Voldemort said, there was a warning in it.

'I am yours.' Draco echoed, trying to work out what this meant, and
feeling horrified at how comforted he felt by it.

Voldemort smiled, and kissed him again before disapparating away,

leaving Draco standing alone outside his house, wondering what his
life was becoming.
Draco looked around him. Voldemort had really left and Draco was
instantly aware of his absence. Instinctively, his body seemed to
search for his touch and felt cold when he could not find it.

'My Parents!' Though Draco, steadying his mind, he ran to the front
door.

He knocked. He didn't know why, he lived there, didn't he? But he

didn't feel that he could just walk in, he felt like an outsider. A nice,
respectable family lived here, and he was, at best, a prodigal son.
He thought that by rights, his parents should turn him away in
disgust the moment they set eyes on him.

Spinks, the house elf opened the door, his eyes widened instantly
when he saw Draco!

'Master Draco!' He cried! 'Master Draco is home!' He shouted into

the house. 'Master, Mistress, Master Draco is here!'

Draco heard his mother shriek and he heard his parents running to
the front door. The pushed the house elf out of the way and both fell
onto their son, hugging him and sobbing, his mother kissing him
repeatedly.

'Draco! Oh Draco! You're alive! Thank the Gods! You're alive!' She
cried.

Draco said nothing. He hugged them both tightly, and he felt a

creeping sickness begin to take him over, and he got the feeling it
would stay with him for a very long time.

His parents looked around nervously and pulled Draco back into the
house, shutting the door behind them. Narcissa lead Draco to the
drawing room and sat down with him on the couch. She clutched him
to her and sobbed. Lucius stood behind them, his hands resting on
their shoulders. Draco glanced up at him. His eyes were shadowed
and reddened. He had not slept and he had been crying.
Tears rolled down Narcissa's face and into Draco's hair as she held
him.

Draco did not cry. He did not deserve to. Guilt ripped through him,
causing him physical pain. He had no right to cry. He had no right to
any emotions at all.

'I'm alright.' Said Draco in a resolved tone. 'I'm alright, I'm not hurt,
I'm ok.'

'Thank the Gods!' Narcissa exclaimed. 'Oh Draco!' Narcissa's

instincts were to ask 'What did he do to you?' and 'Did he hurt you?'
But she knew she did not want to hear the answers, and she
suspected Draco did not want to speak about it.

Draco glanced up and saw Spinks in the doorway, tears rolling down
his cheeks too, from his big, wide eyes. 'You don't deserve all
these people to care about you!' The voice in his head had started
already, Draco thought he had better just get used to it.

'Spinks, go and make us some tea.' Lucius commanded. 'And,

Draco, do you need some food?' He asked?

'No thank you.' Said Draco. He didn't tell them he had eaten already,
how would he explain that? He could not explain any of it to them.
His parents usually so composed and dignified, looked like two
broken people and it was all his fault.

'Oh Draco, darling, are you sure you're alright, you're not hurt?'
Narcissa looked at him critically and with great concern.

'I'm ok.' He said quietly. 'And I'm sorry.'

There was a pained silence. Lucius turned away. Narcissa looked

mortified.

'WE'RE sorry Draco. We are SO sorry.'

Chapter 13
Draco was glad he was going back to school. The atmosphere at the
Manor could be cut with a knife. He tried to busy himself with
preparing for school, packing his things and reading his books, but it
was not easy with his parents watching his every move with concern.
They seemed to be waiting for him to break down, get angry, cry or
something. Draco felt like he was in St Mungo's, being observed by
healers, waiting to see if he had lost his mind. His mother had even
slept in his room with him the night he had returned, that had been
excruciating.

On his return home Draco really just wanted to sleep, to be by

himself, to try and process the overwhelming experience he had had.
He wanted space, to try and find his way back to himself, the self he
used to be. His mother and father didn't seem to want him out of
their sight.

'May I come in?' His mother had asked, standing at his bedroom
door. Draco was laying in bed starting at the ceiling, his body aching,
his mind numb.

'Of course.' He had said, sitting up and looking sociable.

Narcissa carried a book in her hands and she walked over to the
bed.

'Don't get up, darling.' She said gently as she sat beside him. Draco
looked at the book and his heart froze. It was a book of children's
stories, his mother used to read them to him when he was little. He
didn't know the book was still in the house, he hadn't seen it for
probably 8 years or more.

'I, I thought I could read to you.' Narcissa said, he voice shaky. 'I
could read the one about the dragon. It, it was your f-favourite…'
If anything was going to break Draco, it would have been this. This,
he could not cope with. He sat up, turning his face away in case his
eyes filled with tears.

'No. Mother, please…' He said, but his voice faltered. If he tried to

make another sound it would just come out as a sob. He didn't want
to cry, starting now might open a floodgate and he might never stop.

Narcissa did not ask again. 'May I sit with you then?' She asked.

'Of course.' Said Draco as calmly as he could manage.

'Lay back down, darling.' She said, and she sat beside him on the
bed stroking his hair softly.

She read the dragon story in a whisper after Draco had gone to
sleep.
Chapter 14
Some people, when they have slept with someone, miss them
dreadfully when they are first apart, and then get used to being along
again and feel more and more alright as time passes. For others, it's
as if sex is a drug. They have had a fix which sustains them for a
time, but as the drug fades from their system, they feel worse and
worse, and desperately need it again. In their own way, both Draco
and Voldemort fell into the second category.

Draco's parents had begun to relax a little once they realised he

wasn't going to throw himself off the roof, or display any other erratic
behaviour.

'He's taken it well.' Lucius remarked, and then wished to the Gods
he's found a different phrase to use.

They saw Draco off to school on the Hogwarts express as usual.

Draco had congratulated himself on his ever impressive ability to

compartmentalise his life. Those vivid scenes he remembered all too
clearly, he had packaged up and put in a box, quite separate from
the rest of his life. He had been a different person in those few hours
to the person he usually was when he was around other people.
Now, he had to be Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts. The Draco Malfoy who
swaggered about in a confident fashion. The Draco Malfoy who
knew he was better than everyone else and looked down on them
all. The Draco Malfoy who loved to pick a fight with Potter and his
little friends, just for fun. Draco was glad to be away from his
parents. No-one at Hogwarts knew what had happened, it was easy
to be the old Draco again. It made him feel safe, it was reassuring to
know he could still be that person. It was like nothing had happened.
Almost.

The school term started as usual. Except for that Umbridge woman
being in school and throwing her ample weight around on behalf of
the ministry. She was inspecting lessons and dragging the teachers
over the coals, ' providing some trivial amusement in class, at least',
thought Draco.

Then there was Potter, crowing on about the Dark Lord returning.
Draco could have done without that quite frankly. Fortunately, the
Daily Prophet seemed to have turned against Prince-Potter over the
summer and were now billing him as 'The Boy Who Lies'. Draco
enjoyed seeing him taken down a peg or two, but he was still
hellishly annoying. He had turned into a real teenager over the
summer and was flouncing about the castle, drawing attention to
himself at every turn. 'Does it ever occur to the stupid git that other
people might have stuff going on too…?' Draco brooded. He felt
every bit like flouncing and sulking, but prided himself on more self
control, at least while he was awake.

Night times were different, however. It was about 3 weeks into term
when it started. Draco had had nightmares before, but not like this.
Wednesday night was the 3rd in a row he had woken up screaming,
dripping with sweat. Blaise was at his side instantly, holding him
tightly.

'Malfoy! Malfoy! It's ok! You were dreaming' He hugged him and
rocked him gently back and forth.

'Yeah, you were dreaming, AGAIN!' Crabbe said, groggily. He was

not the only one in the dorm who's sympathy was wearing thin after
3 nights on the trot.

'Sorry…' Gasped Draco, still dazed

'It's not his fault!' Snapped Blaise defensively. He was being very
caring and considerate of Draco. Draco suspected it was because he
felt guilty.

At the start of term he had announced that he was 'going steady'

with a girl in the year above, and had to call an end to their" extra-
curricular activities". Draco suspected he was worried he had hurt his
feelings. Actually Draco had been relieved. 'You are MINE now,
Draco…' the words had rung in his ears. Fooling around with
someone else probably wouldn't have been a good move.

The majority of the dorm had turned over and gone back to sleep,
but Blaise, the loyal friend, stayed with Draco.

'You have to do something about this.' He said.

'I said I'm sorry, ok?' Draco snapped. Blaise sighed, he was familiar
with defensive Draco.

'I mean for YOUR SELF, not for anyone else, idiot. And don't take
that tone with me, we're past that!'

'Sorry.' Draco said again. He hadn't meant to snap at his friend.

'What's the dream about?' Blaise asked. 'It sometimes helps to talk
about it…'

There was no way Draco could talk about it. How would that
conversation go… 'Well, you know how Potter swears the Dark Lord
has returned? He's telling the truth for once, the Dark Lord has
returned, he's been at my house for most of the summer. My parents
told me to stay out of the way, but I was too stupid to listen. Anyway,
seems he liked the look of me because a few days later he appeared
in my room with only one thing on his mind, and then again days
later in my father's study… Then he took me to his house and fucked
me all night long. We had breakfast together and he took me home,
but he says I'm his now. I thought I could handle it, but now I'm
having nightmares about his hands all over me, about him hurting
me and fucking me. I scream because it frightens me and I scream
because he's really, really good . I'm frightened because I can't say
'No' to him and even more frightened because I don't want to say no
to him.'

'Draco…?' Blaise prompted. 'You should talk to someone. '

'It's nothing.' Draco said flatly. 'It's just dream stuff, doesn't even
make sense when I'm awake.'

Blaise eyed him cynically. 'OK. But tomorrow we are going to Madam
Pomfrey to get a sleeping draft to help you. Draco nodded, there was
no point arguing.

'But you gave some to Potter last year after the tournament!' Blaise
almost shouted. As arrogant as he was handsome, he sometimes
forgot when he was talking to staff that he was expected to mind his
manners.

'Mr Potter had been through a traumatic experience, it was a special

case. I can't just hand out Dreamless Sleep potions because Mr
Malfoy has had a couple of nightmares. That is the last I'm saying on
the subject.' Madam Pomfrey stormed away busily, leaving Blaise
fuming and Draco inwardly seething with anger and wanting to cry.

'Potter had a traumatic experience?! I suppose the stupid woman

didn't consider being snatched from home and fucked by the most
powerful dark wizard the world has ever known, a 'traumatic
experience.' If not, perhaps she would consider that having to deal
with the fact that the sex was incredible and you would give anything
to have him touch you again, even if it was just to rough you up a bit
as traumatic? Because it was traumatic! Potter didn't know trauma!
He fought with the Dark Lord, and walked away a hero. Good vs
Evil, clear cut, simple, easy. A traumatic experience?' Draco was in
hell. Tears filled his eyes.

'Fuck, Draco!' Said Blaise as he caught sight of Draco's tears. He

checked that no one was around to see Draco so vulnerable. He
hugged his friend tightly. 'That's it! We are going to see Snape.'
Again, Draco knew there was no point arguing.

They arrived at Snape's rooms. Draco had composed himself a little,

but it was clear that he had recently been crying, his grey eyes
shone with notes of deep blue because of his tears. Blaise knocked,
but walked straight in without waiting for an answer. Snape was at
his desk, marking essays, he looked up to see who had disturbed
him. Blaise dragged Draco in by his wrist.

'Mr Zabini, Mr Malfoy…' Snape surveyed them, trying to read the

situation. Mentally, Draco strengthened his guard. 'Shut the door
behind you, Mr Zabini.' Snape insisted. 'Sit down boys, what can I do
for you?' His voice was stern but not unkind and he came from
behind his desk to sit with them.

'Draco's been having terrible nightmares, Professor.' Blaise began.

'He wakes up screaming. Some of the other boys are getting cross
about it, but it's not Draco's fault. I took him to the hospital wing to
ask for some Dreamless Sleep potion, but the silly old cow wouldn't
give us any! She gave some to Potter last year, it's not fair.' Blaise
hoped this would appeal to Snape's dislike of Harry Potter and help
further their cause. 'She said Potter had been through a traumatic
experience so he deserved to have it, but Draco doesn't…'

'Thank you Mr Zabini.' Snape cut in. 'I am sure Mr Malfoy

appreciates your concern.'

'I think Draco needs the potion, Sir. He can't say what the dreams
are about, but it sounds like something pretty traumatic to me, I think
he deserves some help!' Blaise continued.

'I am sure Mr Malfoy is able to speak for himself.' Snape said softly.
'Mr Malfoy? You cannot say what the dreams are about?'

'No.' Said Draco immediately. 'I mean, No, Sir. I don't really
remember them when I wake up, Sir.'

Snape sighed.

'I will be able to help you, Mr Malfoy, do not look so alarmed. Mr

Zabini, thank you for bringing Draco here, but I would like you to
leave me to talk to him alone please. I will be able to make a potion
for him, and I think it's best if we keep Madam Pomfrey out of this
arrangement from now on.'
'Thank you Sir!' Said Blaise as he stood up, resting his hand on
Draco's shoulder for a second before he left.

Alone in the room with Snape, Draco's blood ran cold. No-one at
Hogwarts knew… or did they?

Snape turned away from Draco, his face was weary and sad.

Wormtail had not been discreet. The very same day he has seen
Draco with Voldemort, he had made a point of mentioning it to as
many of the Death Eaters as he came into contact with. It seemed to
make him more popular among his peers, having some juicy,
firsthand gossip to share.

Lucius Malfoy was not well liked by his fellow Death Eaters, because
he was arrogant and thought himself higher up in Voldemort's
esteem than the others. They revelled in the news that the Dark Lord
was fucking Lucius Malfoy's son. They embellished the tale…

'Wormtail had seen the boy naked and chained to the bed.' 'Wormtail
had walked in on Draco sucking the Dark Lord off' 'Wormtail had
walked in on the Dark Lord buggering Draco while Draco screamed
for mercy… No, Draco was screaming for MORE!'

They enjoyed the different versions of the story and made sure to
talk about it loudly in Lucius's earshot. Snape had hoped it was not
true, but suspected it was. This business about the nightmares
seemed to confirm it.

He picked a bottle from the shelf.

'Drink this, Mr Malfoy. It's a healing potion.' Draco knew it was.

'I don't need one.' He said defiantly. 'I'm not hurt.'

'It will help heal you from the damage caused by lack of sleep.'
Snape told him. 'Now drink it.' Draco did as he was told, and he did
feel a little better for it.
'Thank you.' He said quietly.

'I will brew you a Dreamless Sleep draft which I can have ready for
tonight.' Snape told him.

'Thank you.' Draco said again.

'Draco?' Said Snape, suddenly. It was unusual for him to call a

student by their first name, even the ones he liked.

'Yes, Professor?'

'Please don't hesitate to come to me if you need… anything.' Snape

concluded. He wanted to hug Draco, he felt protective of him,
wanted Draco to know he could talk to him if he needed to. But he
worried after Draco's experiences that he might misinterpret an
expression of kindness. The last thing he wanted to do was upset
Draco more.

'Thank you.' Said Draco stiffly. Snape knew. Draco wanted to die of
shame.
Chapter 15
Draco was sleeping better, thanks to the Dreamless Sleep potion. He
was keeping up appearances around school. Laughing with his
friends as Umbridge interrogated the teachers. If she got any more
powerful, Draco would have to start working a bit harder at
ingratiating himself to her, he wanted to make sure his life didn't get
any more difficult in school. Post was being checked, but somehow
he was still able to get cigarettes and Fire-whisky in from time to
time. Umbridge knew Draco's father, Draco believed they were on
good terms, and was grateful as it made his subtle rule breaking
easier. He was smoking more, and drinking more. Blaise noticed,
and was concerned. Other people noticed and swooned over Draco-
the-bad-boy.

The first Hogsmede weekend was approaching. It'd be nice to get

out of school for a while, as grateful as Draco was for school at the
moment, a change of scene would be good. He planned to go to The
3 Broomsticks and drink till he passed out. It probably wasn't
sensible, but he didn't care. Drinking was a poor substitute for the
thing he was really craving, and Gods, he was craving it! His eyes
lingered over his team mates when they changed for Quidditch and
when they showered afterwards. However, they were all as young
and boyish as himself, and that wasn't what he wanted. He had
worried, at first, that one of them might catch him staring and be
angry, but Draco was something of a leader among the Slytherins,
and anyone who caught Draco looking at them was simply flattered
and hopeful.

The problem with being a leader, is that it's very difficult to get rid of
people when you want time alone, and it seemed that every one of
Draco's friends was planning to go into Hogsmede with him. He had
to take evasive action. He got up early and left slightly before
everyone else, Umbridge had sanctioned him leaving early as he
had said he needed extra time to buy a birthday present for his
mother. Draco would have felt bad once upon a time about bringing
his mother into a lie, but this was so mild a lie in the scheme of lies
he had told recently that he hardly even noticed it.

Draco had merely a half hour start on his friends. He had left a note
for Blaise to say where he would be. By the time they came to meet
him Draco would have had a fair few drinks and he needed someone
to know where he was, to help him get back, if nothing else. He
headed straight to the pub.

'She'd better serve me Fire-whisky! She will, even if I have to pay

double for it, even if I have to Imperio her to get her to do it!'

He didn't need to curse anyone. Rosemata was not on the bar, it was
someone Draco did not recognise.

'You're not from the school, are you?' The young witch asked him
quizzically. Draco gave a silky smile.

'How kind!' He said, seductively. 'Don't let my youthful good looks

fool you, I'm 20, I'm an intern at the Ministry of Magic. I'm in town
visiting relatives. ' He gave the girl a playful look. 'You hardly look old
enough to be serving drinks yourself.'

He winked. She melted. Blushing, she poured him the double shot of
Fire-whisky she had asked for. He paid and tipped generously.

'Have one yourself.' He offered.

'Oh! Thanks!' She said, impressed by the tip, and the fact that this
gorgeous, rich young man was offering her a drink.

It had simply been a means to an end, Draco did not want her
company. Fortunately the bar was filling up now, so she had to go
and serve other people. He sipped the drink slowly, feeling the
soothing burn coursing through him. It hurt him, it was bad for him,
and it comforted him all at once. He resisted the urge to down the
drink in one go. When he wanted another, he simply caught the
barmaids eye, it wasn't hard as she looked at him every chance she
got. He gave her a smile and a flirtatious wave of his hand. She
bought the drink to him straight away, ignoring other customers who
had been waiting longer.

A dark, hooded figure had been sitting at the far end of the bar from
Draco, watching him intently. Draco had not noticed. The figure
beckoned the barmaid over, whispered something and handed her a
piece of folded parchment and some money. The figure then rose
slowly, looking to leave. Perplexed, the pretty young barmaid
approached Draco with a drink which he had not ordered.

'This is from the man in the cloak.' She said, handing it to him, 'And
he said to give you this.' She gave Draco the piece of parchment.

'What man?' Draco asked, his churning stomach had nothing to do

with the Fire-whiskey.

'That man…' She said looking around, 'He's just leaving.' She
pointed to the door. All Draco managed to see was the end of a
black cloak disappearing.

'It couldn't be!' Thought Draco… 'But who else would buy me Fire-
whiskey, and hide beneath a cloak, and leave without talking to me?
Snape, maybe, out of sympathy perhaps? But Snape was still up at
Hogwarts. It couldn't be Voldemort!' It would be a crazy risk to take to
come to Hogsmede like that, he wouldn't do it, Draco was sure.

'Do you know him?' The girl asked curiously.

'I didn't even see him.' Draco said. 'If he knew me I would have
thought he would have come to talk to me.' Draco wanted to look at
the parchment, it was clearly a note, but he wanted privacy. The girl,
however, did not leave. Draco's curiosity got the better of him, he
unfolded it.

Hey Beautiful Boy, meet me in the Shrieking Shack in 15 minutes.

You won't be disappointed.
The girl laughed out loud as she read it. Draco knocked the drink
back in one go.

'Talk about trying his luck!' The barmaid said with a smirk. 'Still, I can
imagine that kind of thing happens to you fairly often in the bars in
London?' She flirted.

Composing himself, knowing not to drop the act, he flicked his hair
back casually with a laugh.

'It's certainly not the first time…' He said coolly. He glanced at the
door.

'You're not going to go, are you?' Said the girl, horrified.

'What sort of a guy do you think I am?' Draco teased. 'It would take
far more than one drink to get me to hook up with an anonymous
stranger in an abandoned house!' The barmaid laughed.

'However…' Draco continued. 'It is unfortunate that I do have to

leave now, which is just terrible timing because you will forever think
I went to meet him.' He took the girls hands in his. 'I will leave and
you will think I am a terrible whore who goes to meet with strange
men after being bought one drink… and I don't want you to think that
about me.' He said the last part looking directly into her eyes and he
gently pressed his thumb into the palm of her hand. She gasped.

'Oh, I won't think that!' She giggled. 'And if I did, next time I saw you I
would probably test the theory and send you a note myself!'

'Perhaps you could come up with a more eloquent proposition than

our cloaked friend…?' Draco teased as he released her hand and
walked away.

'Yuck!' He thought to himself as he left. 'But it pays to keep people

sweet…'
But who was the note from? It could have been Voldemort, he would
have known to make it sound like just a casual pick-up line, in case
anyone else saw Draco read it. Or it could actually be a stranger, just
trying their luck. There was only one way to find out.

Draco kept his hand firmly on his wand all the way to the Shrieking
Shack. He had never been inside the place, it was supposed to be
haunted and that scared him. The ghosts at Hogwarts were one
thing, but others, he was not so sure about. However, it if was the
Dark Lord who has waiting for him, surely it wasn't ghosts he should
be worried about?

Draco could not escape the part of his brain that was hoping it was
Voldemort who had sent the note. He was hoping this for a myriad of
reasons, not least because the last thing he wanted to deal with was
an amorous stranger in an abandoned building. It was lucky that he
had had 6 shots of Fire-whiskey, which were giving him more than a
little Dutch courage.

Draco found that the door opened easily. Wand raised he walked in.
Although it was a grey and breezy autumn day, outside was bright
compared with inside the shack. Draco wanted to conjure the Lumos
charm, but did not want to draw unnecessary attention to himself. He
simply walked slowly, blinking as his eyes became accustomed to
the gloom.

'Hello…?' He called in a whisper. 'Who's there? Come out now or I'll

hex you straight to hell!'

There was an amused laugh from the shadows across the room.

'Will you really, love?' Came Voldemort's familiar drawl.

Draco lowered his wand and sighed in relief, why, he could not really
explain. Surely this was the worst person in the world to be alone
with in the Shrieking Shack, but Draco was just relieved it was
someone he knew . 'What's wrong with me?' Thought Draco.
Voldemort advanced on him without another word and swept Draco
up off his feet. He was strong enough to pick Draco up and hold him,
Draco's legs wrapped around Voldemort's waist, Draco's hands
holding on to his shoulders. He pushed Draco against the wall,
making it easier to hold him and touch him as the wall took some of
his weight. In this position Draco was slightly above Voldemort and
had to lean down slightly to kiss him. Draco felt so powerless and
overwhelmed at being picked up like this, he simply melted into the
kiss, softly at first and then hungrily.

'Thank the Gods!' he thought to himself as Voldemort slipped his

tongue between his lips, Draco welcomed him in, teasing him
playfully with his mouth. 'Thank the Gods he's here.' Draco's cock
was ragingly hard already, just being picked up and pushed against
the wall like that had turned him on beyond belief. Now Voldemort
was biting gently at his lower lip, then working his way to Draco's
neck… Draco's eyes fluttered closed for a moment. It was this he
was missing, it was this he needed, the absence of it had been
making him crazy. Because it was just too terrible to have been so
thoroughly taken by someone, to have been theirs so utterly, and
then to be alone. At first everything about Voldemort touching him
had felt wrong, but now not having his touch felt wrong, so wrong
Draco had moments when he thought he might die without it.

'Gods! I've missed you!' Draco breathed as Voldemort kissed his

neck. Voldemort smiled.

'I know you have, pet. I have missed you.' He thrust his hips upwards
and Draco could feel the evidence pressing against him through his
clothes.

'Mmmm… Want you…' He whispered. Adrenalin pumping through

his body at this surprise encounter. He was ready instantly, it had
been such a long time! Voldemort didn't want to be patient either. His
need for sex had increased over the weeks he had not seen Draco.
Days before, he had dragged a young Wizard down a dark alleyway
to relieve some of his frustrations. The young man had been far from
compliant and Voldemort had resorted to the Imperious curse to get
him to behave as he wanted. He was not a patch on Draco!

Voldemort whispered a wandless spell. Draco felt the rush of magic

sweep over him, making him tingle and he realised that he was now
quite completely naked!

'That's a good trick!' He thought, impressed with Voldemort's

technique. But it was cold in the shack and Draco shivered a little.

'I'll keep you warm, Draco.' Voldemort whispered as he managed to

unleash his cock and angle it at Draco's ass. He cast a lubrication
charm and pressed the head of it to Draco's opening.

'Oh… Yes…' Hissed Draco as Voldemort slipped inside him, giving

him his full length. It hurt a little, but Draco needed the feeling so
much he didn't care. He got amazingly deep penetration from this
position and his first thrust hit Draco's prostate full force.

'Fuck! Yes!' Draco gasped. 'My Gods, I've missed you so much!' He
reached his hands up above his head and gripped the wooden
picture rail which ran around the wall. This way he supported some
of his own weight, and Voldemort held him by his hips and could
work him up and down on his cock.

The wall was dusty and dirty, the room, dark, shadowy and full of
cobwebs and broken bits of furniture. It was a dark and secret world,
a little like the one that Draco lived in inside his own head these
days. It was strange to think that just outside the shack was
Hogsmede village, and people going about their everyday lives, the
school students shopping and laughing with their friends. The
crumbling walls of the shack were all that separated Draco from
them, walls which kept him held safely in the darkness of this
secluded world of forbidden lust.

Never in his life had Draco pictured being screwed like this, but it
had to be the hottest thing he could imagine. No talking first, no
foreplay, just swept off his feet, pushed against the wall and fucked.
Voldemort had complete control of him, and he loved being able to
let go of all responsibility for a while and just let it happen. He
worked so hard to behave how people wanted. He kept his friends
orbiting him and hanging off his every word. He manipulated
teachers and pupils alike, he mastered his emotions in nearly every
waking moment. It was hard work. This was what he needed, this
had become what he craved. He longed for these moments of
powerlessness when Voldemort would take him. When he would
take control and Draco could stop being in charge for a while and
just be fucked, just be really fucked.

Voldemort liked being in control, all of the time. What he craved

about Draco was that Draco really wanted him. It was tiring to always
have to torture or threaten people into doing what you want them to
do. It was a bit of a turn off to always have to Imperio someone to
make them want to get into bed with you. It hadn't always been like
this, Voldemort remembered. He had been handsome when he was
young and people practically queued down the street to sleep with
him. Much as they probably did with Draco now, he thought. He
wondered if Draco would really like him if he saw him how he had
once been…? 'But he really likes me now !' Voldemort smiled to
himself as Draco moaned.

'You feel incredible, you are such a great fuck! Gods! You are so hot!'
Draco breathed.

Voldemort pushed into Draco with firm, rhythmic thrusts, nearly

pulling all the way out each time, teasing the inside of Draco's ring
with the head of his cock. They continued to kiss throughout, with
breathless ravishing kisses. Voldemort increased the pace of his
thrusts and Draco felt his body tremble as he approached his climax.
Draco came as Voldemort fucked him hard and deep. His come
covered both of them as they were pressed together. Voldemort felt
Draco's ass clench as he came and it pushed him over the edge and
he shot his load into Draco with a deep groan.

They remained where they were, panting for a minute or so before

Voldemort put Draco back on his feet. Draco's clothes were in a neat
pile on the floor, he pulled on his underwear. Voldemort had uttered a
cleaning spell over them both.

'Come to bed, Draco.' Voldemort offered, gesturing to the stairs.

'Oh! So now there's a bed?' Said Draco playfully, rubbing his back,
which was grazed and bruised from the pressure of the wall. Really,
he wouldn't have had it any other way!

'Upstairs, NOW, you!' Voldemort said, with a smile.

The bed was dusty and rickety. It was the same bed that Snape had
been blasted unconscious onto when he faced Harry, Sirius and
Lupin. Draco raised a haughty eyebrow. It was filthy! Voldemort
rolled his eyes. He muttered a cleaning charm over the bed and in
seconds the sheets and blankets looked soft, clean and inviting.

'Better, your highness…? Voldemort asked with a sarcastic smile.

'Yes, thank you.' Draco smiled, climbing in between the new clean
sheets. Voldemort wasted no time in joining him and in seconds they
were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing as though their lives
depended on it. It wasn't long before Draco felt Voldemort's cock stiff
against his hip. He was getting hard himself just thinking about his
next move.

Draco moved between Voldemort's legs. He took hold of his cock

and licked over the tip, then he circled the head with his tongue. He
teased for a while, before taking the head in his mouth and working
his soft lips over it.

'Fuck, Draco!' Voldemort moaned as Draco began the most

spectacular blowjob. Had the boy been practicing this? No, he'd
always been good at it, and he had been oh so tight when Voldemort
had fucked him, which lead him to think he hadn't been fucking
around since he went back to school. 'Good!' Thought Voldemort. He
entwined his fingers in Draco's pretty blond hair and stroked him
while Draco pleasured his dick. He thrust his hips upwards into
Draco's willing mouth and Draco took all he was given and
welcomed it. He was going to make the Dark Lord come, going to
make him come right down his throat… Gods, he really got off on
doing this!

When Voldemort came, Draco gratefully swallowed the lot, licking his
lips in a satisfied, sultry manner. Voldemort pulled him up into his
arms.

'I watched you in the bar…' Said Voldemort coolly. 'You were being
rather shamelessly charming to that barmaid. I do hope you're not
like that with everyone!' His tone was teasing but there was a note of
seriousness too, challenging Draco and telling him he'd better be
behaving himself!

'I'm only charming when I need a drink.' Draco replied. Voldemort

laughed.

'How have you been doing at school?' He asked casually. This was
surreal, Draco thought, but answered automatically.

'OK really. I was having nightmares when I first went back, but it's ok
now. Snape made me a Dreamless Sleep potion to help me.

'Did he?' Said Voldemort. 'I am glad Severus is looking out for you.'

This was just too odd.

'Mind if I smoke?' Said Draco, remembering he had cigarettes in his

trouser pockets.

'Not at all, love.' Voldemort said and Draco offered him one. He
accepted. He hadn't smoked in years. Draco passed him a lighter.
He breathed in the peppermint smoke. He liked it. It tasted like
Draco.

Draco lay in the bed, smoking, Voldemort's arm around him. He was
totally relaxed. He had not expected the day to go this way, but hell,
he was glad it had. School was forgotten about, everything was
forgotten apart from this, right now.

'Want a drink, sweetheart?' Voldemort drawled, trailing his fingers

over Draco's naked chest.

'What have you got?' Asked Draco lazily.

'Wine.' Voldemort replied. 'I would have bought Fire-whiskey, only I

think you're had enough… and you're not old enough to drink.' He
teased.

'Oh?' Said Draco tauntingly. 'I'm not old enough for lots of things,
technically…' and he leaned over and kissed Voldemort teasingly.
'Fuck! This is wrong! This isn't even just sex. This is flirting. This is
like, well… I don't know what it's like, but I know it's wrong on every
level and I'm totally fucked!'

Voldemort passed him a glass of wine and he drank gratefully,

topping up his buzz from the Fire-whiskey. Head spinning, he lit
another cigarette to help keep him focused. Voldemort's arm around
his shoulder, he sat back and allowed waves of bliss to lap gently
over him. He didn't know what was happening, but he was scared, if
he thought about it, that this was something real. Or that this could
have been something real, if Voldemort wasn't an evil dark wizard
and a homicidal maniac. 'Of all the people in the world, Draco, why
HIM?' He asked himself.

That afternoon, Voldemort fucked Draco Malfoy in more positions

that Draco had known existed. Draco had come more times than he
could count and had done things for Voldemort he never thought
he'd do for anyone. Only when the sky was threatening to start going
dark, did they finally leave the bed.

'You really have to get back to school, Draco.' Voldemort said gently.

'Don't want to.' Said Draco defiantly.

'Fuck! You're drunk, aren't you?' Voldemort said, cursing his
irresponsibility, he should have known this would happen.

'No. No, no, no… Not drunk…' Draco giggled.

'Shit!' Thought Voldemort. He really did not know how to deal with a
drunk Draco Malfoy right now. What should he do? Other than
summon Snape to take Draco back to school, what could he do? He
didn't want to call Snape, that would be deeply humiliating and not
very evil overlord-ish…

Draco twisted on the spot, biting down on his lip, looking at

Voldemort with big grey eyes, knowing he was being naughty…
Voldemort tried hard not to laugh at him, but failed.

'For Gods sake, Draco!' He sighed. 'What am I going to do with you?'

Draco looked suddenly very sad.

'I don't know…' he said softly. 'I'm sorry.'

'My fault, love.' Voldemort said. 'But we need to get you back to
school.'

'Want to stay with you.' The drunken Draco whispered and flung his
arms around Voldemort's waist. Voldemort sighed and hugged him.
Maybe he should just take Draco with him… but then there would be
a huge drama and an enquiry as to why Draco Malfoy had gone
missing from school…

'I wish you could.' Voldemort said. 'But you must go back. I will see
you soon, I promise you.'

'I can walk back.' Draco said. He tried to demonstrate this. He

stumbled.

'Gods, Draco! You can hardly walk at all!' Voldemort sighed.

'That's because I can't feel my legs!' Draco grinned.

'I will walk behind you, up to the road.' Voldemort said. 'Then we
might find your friends and they can take you back.'

'OK.' said Draco brightly as he pulled on his cloak.

Walking behind Draco didn't quite go as planned. Voldemort had to

hold Draco up most of the way.

'I will miss you.' Draco said earnestly as they walked. 'I will think
about you every day, and I will probably go crazy because of it.'

Voldemort said nothing, and simply stopped walking and kissed

Draco, more deeply that Draco could remember ever having being
kissed before.

Just then, they heard voices…

'I don't know where he bloody well is! I don't know what he's playing
at.' It was Blaise. Blaise, Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle.

'That's my friends!' Draco whispered excitedly and then sadly, 'I have
to go now, don't I, and… you, you can't meet them…' Just for a
moment, Voldemort felt like he should never have done this to
Draco.

'See you again soon, Draco.' He said and hid in the trees as Draco
stumbled forwards into the path of his friends. Voldemort made sure
Draco had been seen and safely collected by them before
disapparating away.
Chapter 16
'Malfoy!' Cried Blaise.

'Hello!' Said Draco, swaying on the spot. He was flushed, his hair
was matted, he smelled of drink and cigarettes and there were
purple marks all over his neck.

All in all, Voldemort reflected as he disapparated, this was not one of

his cleverer ideas, but it had been so worth it at the time.

'What the fuck, Malfoy?' stammered Blaise, looking at the state of his
friend.

'What?' Said Draco incredulously. 'Have you all had a nice day?'

'You're drunk!' Cried Pansy.

'And it looks like you've fallen foul of a ravenous vampire!' Blaise

scolded. 'Where the fuck have you been?'

'Top secret information, Blaise, my man!' Said Draco, sitting down in

middle of the road.

'Stand up Malfoy, I'm not carrying your ass back to school!' Blaise
said pulling him to his feet.

Blaze and Pansy took Draco to Snapes rooms. Unfortunately Snape

wasn't there and so they sat him down to wait.

'We can't leave him, Gods only know what he'll do!' Pansy sighed.
She was relieved she was over her crush on Draco, otherwise the
love bites on his neck would have really pissed her off.

'Draco, why didn't you tell us you were hooking up with someone?
We could have arranged to meet you after and get you back. Don't
you trust us?' She asked.
'Trust you.' Said Draco matter-of-fact-ly. 'But can't tell anyone. Want
to sleep now.' He added, laying down across the desk.

'You do look pretty shagged out!' Blaise laughed.

'Yeah…' Said starry eyed Draco, smiling.

Just at that moment Snape appeared.

'Professor!' Pansy cried.

'Miss Parkinson, Mr Zabini and…' He frowned at Draco sprawled

across the desk '… Mr Malfoy.'

'You have to help us, Sir!' Pansy spluttered. 'It's Draco, he's… well,
he's drunk sir. Really drunk.'

Snape remained reticent.

'We couldn't find him all day.' Blaise explained. 'We were about to
come back to school when he stumbled out of the woods in this
state.'

Snape looked at Draco, who was laying across the desk on his back
staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He had tried to close his eyes but
that had made the room spin in a nauseating way, so he forced his
eyes open and stared at a crack in the stone work above him. He
looked dazed and confused and Snape instantly noticed the almost-
black bruises on his neck.

'Fuck!' breathed Snape, shocking Pansy and Blaise, no student had

ever heard Snape swear before!

'Leave him with me.' Snape said after a silence. 'He can't be around
other people like this. I will give him a healing potion and in the
morning, and one to help with the hangover he will undoubtedly
have.'
'Thank you Professor.' Said Blaise. 'I really didn't want to have to
take him back to the common room like that.'

'Indeed.' Said Snape. 'Mr Malfoy is lucky to have friends like you
looking out for him.'

Pansy and Blaise left looking anxious. Snape approached Draco on

the desk.

'Mr Malfoy…?' he said gently, and got no response. 'Mr Malfoy!' He

raised his voice. Draco struggled to sit up.

'OK, ok, no need to shout at me!' Pouted Draco. 'Hello Professor!' He

said cheerily as he saw Snape. Snape sat down beside him with a
deep sigh.

'Mr Malfoy…' He began, but Draco cut him off

'You know…' He said, tilting his head on one side, 'When you say 'Mr
Malfoy' like that, I always imagine you are talking to my father, not to
me. If you called me Draco I would know you meant me. Draco,
Dray-Cohhh… easy!'

'If I were talking to your father I would call him Lucius.' Snape told
him.

'Then you really should call me Draco, shouldn't you?' Draco grinned
and swayed a little.

'Teaching!' Why the hell did I go into teaching?' Snape thought to

himself. 'They don't warn you about this sort of thing in the training…'
He sighed wearily.

'Draco?'

'Mmmmmm… Yes?'

'Can you tell me where you have been today?'

'I went to the 3 Broomsticks and had a few drinks… Just a couple,
maybe 3. Then I went to the s… omewhere else.'

'And you can't tell me where, or who you were with?

'I don't think I can professor.' Draco said earnestly. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's not your fault Draco.' Snape sighed.

'It's not that I don't want to tell you!' Draco said, reaching over and
clasping Snape's hands, worried he had upset his favourite teacher.
'It's just that I don't think I should. It would be bad to tell you, and I
like you, I really do!'

Snape looked down at their entwined hands, and suddenly wished

he had locked the door. How would this look if a colleague or a
student were to walk in now? He was fairly sure that holding hands
with an inebriated 15 year old student who was covered in love bites
was probably something Delores Umbridge could put him on
suspension for… Then he noticed the state of Draco's wrists. They
were bruised and even bleeding in places, where sharp nails had
dug into his delicate skin.

'Do you need a healing potion, Draco? Are you injured?' Snape did
not want to think about what injuries Draco might have that he could
not see…

'Injured…? No, I don't think so.' Draco replied sounding confused.

'Why would I be injured?'

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. 'If you're sure…'

'Quite sure.' Smiled Draco. 'I'm tired though, I could sleep for a week,
professor!' Draco offered enthusiastically. Snape squirmed inside a
little.

'Well you can't go back to the dormitory like this.' Snape said. 'You
will have to stay here. We want to keep this little 'incident' as quiet as
possible.'

'OK.' Said Draco. 'I don't want to lose points for Slytherin if anyone
sees me. I can sleep on this desk.'

'You most certainly cannot.' Said Snape firmly. 'You could get into all
sorts of trouble in a potions classroom in this state! You will have to
sleep in my rooms where I can keep an eye on you.' Surely one of
the top 10 sentences Snape thought he would never say to a
student!

Draco nodded. 'OK.' He said and he stood up.

The room began to spin as he tried to take a step forward but the
ground seemed to fall away from his feet… Snape was there in
seconds to catch him. Snape flung himself to the ground just in time
and Draco fell into his arms and dissolved into giggles. Draco felt
utterly delirious, as though he was in a dream and nothing was real.
He wished he felt like this more often.

'You can't even walk?'

'Could before. Not now. I'll sleep here.'

'I'll carry you.' Snape sighed, and he picked up the dead weight
Draco in his arms and carried him towards his bedroom.

Draco, loosely aware of what was happening, was so very grateful

he had come about 9 times already that day otherwise he would
undoubtedly be hard right now. This had to be one of his all time
favourite sex fantasies. Snape picking him up and striding towards
the bedroom with him in his arms, where he would no doubt throw
him on the bed, tear his clothes off and screw him senseless. Draco
looped his arms around Snape's neck.

Snape gently lowered Draco onto the bed, removed his shoes and
began to remove his jacket. He would loosen the boys shirt too, but
that was all! He was not prepared to have a naked student in his
bed, that was unthinkable! As he began to undo the top buttons of
Draco's shirt, Draco gently reached up and stoked his hand over
Snape's black hair…

'Are you going to fuck me?' He asked in a serious but straightforward

tone, which stopped Snape in his tracks.

Snape generally didn't swing that way nowadays, but if he did, it just
might have been for Draco Malfoy. He looked at the boy and
remembered the raging crush he had had on Lucius when he was 18
and Lucius was 24. Draco was even more attractive than his father
had been, his features softer and his eyes a deeper shade of twilight
gray. Draco was so vulnerable and so accessible right now. It would
be easy, it would be SO easy. The boy had been fucked all
afternoon, he'd be well prepared for it… Fuck, he was probably still
wet with Voldemort's come… It would be easy to strip him naked and
shag him for all he was worth, and Draco would probably not even
remember in the morning. Draco had clearly been buggered by the
Dark Lord all afternoon, really how much damage could Snape do to
him?

Draco looked up at Snape questioningly. His question had expressed

no emotion, as though he would simply accept whatever answer
Snape gave him without argument. He gave Snape a sad, curious
smile, his eyes wide with an innocence which by rights, should not
be there. There was Snape's answer… How much damage could he
do? He could do a world of damage.

'I may have done a lot of bad things in my life, Draco.' Snape began,
'But taking advantage of 15 year old school boys is not one of them.
And I can state categorically that it NEVER will be. You are SAFE
with me, Draco.'

Draco tilted his head and frowned, thinking about it, and then after a
second he smiled.

'Sleep now?' He said hopefully.

'Sleep now.' Snape assured him, tucking the blankets around his
shoulders.
Chapter 17
'Hey! What's Malfoy doing in Snape's room at this time of night?' Ron
exclaimed, gazing at the spot on the marauders map where the
name Draco Malfoy could clearly be seen alongside Severus Snape.
'Fuck! He's in Snape's bed! What the Fuck?'

Harry, Fred and George jumped up and crowded around Ron. Ron,
Hermione, Harry, Fred and George were the only people remaining
in the common room. The friends had all been consoling Harry after
his latest Umbridge detention. This revelation Ron had spotted on
the map was, momentarily, a welcome distraction.

'No way!?' Exclaimed Harry, peering over for a closer look.

'I'd always had him down as a ponce…' said Fred, 'But he's a good
looking one…' He spoke to the map 'Honestly Malfoy, you could do
better!'

'Yeah…' George joined in… 'Wait till your father hears about this!' He
said in a haughty voice. Ron and Fred collapsed with laughter.

Harry didn't. He was imagining Draco and Snape in bed together,

kissing each other, whispering breathlessly, Snape's hands in
Draco's fair hair, Draco's mouth around Snape's…

'Honestly!' Interjected Hermoine. 'Haven't you heard? Malfoy went

into Hogsmede really early today and got completely and utterly
drunk. Zabini and Parkinson practically had to carry him back to
school. They took him to Snape so that no one else would find out.'

'How do you know?' Said Ron, 'How does she always know stuff?'

Hermione sighed.

'I overheard Parkinson telling Millicent Bulstrode in the girls toilets,

so did Lavender and about 3 Ravenclaw girls. It's all round school.'
'Shame.' Said George. 'I was going to send them some
congratulations flowers tomorrow morning. I mean, they'd just make
the perfect couple, wouldn't they?' Ron laughed and so did Fred.

'Yeah, they actually would!' Said Ron. 'I bet he'd still call him 'Mr
Malfoy' in bed!'

'Yuck! Don't Ron!' Harry forced a laugh as he pictured Draco on his

back, Snape holding him down and kissing him softly. Draco on
Snape's desk, gripping Snape with his thighs, Draco in the shower
covered in soap with Snape taking hold of him from behind… Harry's
heart sank. He knew what he'd be wanking to tonight.

At some point during the night, Snape had bought Draco a glass of
water and placed it by the bed. Then he had sat beside Draco,
reading a book, so that he could make sure Draco didn't try to get up
and do anything stupid. But at some point in the night he had fallen
asleep. At some point in the night, Draco's temperature had risen
and he had somehow worked his way out of his shirt and trousers,
and now slept only in his underwear. He had tossed back the covers
too, which was not his usual way of sleeping, but the covers had
been irritating him.

Snape woke up feeling very physically uncomfortable from sleeping

half upright. He glanced down at the nearly naked Draco Malfoy
laying in his bed and felt mentally uncomfortable too. He saw
instantly why Draco had thrown the covers off. Draco's back was
bruised and grazed, hell, it was red raw in places, and he had some
deep scratch marks running down the sides of his torso. Draco
would take a healing potion this morning weather he wanted it or not!

Draco began to stir and he moaned groggily.

'Where… what hap… Ouch!' He concluded. Then he saw Snape, his

eyes widened in horror.

OK, he could remember going into Hogsmede, he remembered

drinking in the 3 broomsticks and talking to the barmaid. He
remembered going to the Shrieking Shack and meeting Voldemort.
He remembered Voldemort fucking him against the wall… Ouch, that
explained the pain in his back! He remembered being with Voldemort
all afternoon. He remembered offering him a cigarette, he
remembered drinking… fuck! He didn't remember any more. How did
any of this equate to ending up naked in Snape's bed?

'Fuck! Professor! I… How did I… I mean, Last night… We… errrrr…

we didn't, did we?' He stammered, clutching his forehead. Talking
hurt.

'No, Draco, we most certainly did not. Your friends bought you here
because you were too incredibly drunk to be allowed to wonder
around the castle unsupervised. I allowed you to sleep here so that
you would not be seen by anyone else. I have been awake all night
keeping an eye on you to make sure you were ok.' Snape told him
flatly. He realised he had sounded cold with this statement and
remembered the reason Draco needed a healing potion. 'Nothing
else would have ever happened, Draco. You are my student. I both
respect and care for you.'

Draco, with no memory of the conversation last night, was touched

and surprised.

'Errr… Thank you.' He said earnestly.

'How are you feeling, Mr Malfoy?' Snape asked, back to his usual
formalities.

'Like I want to die.' Replied Draco. He was possibly still a little drunk,
but oh so aware of the pain now. The pain of his hangover was
predominant, although he did feel a bit like he had been beaten up
too.

'Drink this.' Snape handed him a healing potion. 'And this.' A

hangover cure. Draco downed both of them. Gradually the physical
pain began to disappear and he stopped feeling like he would vomit
if he breathed too deeply. But these feelings were replaced with
something else. A searing, cutting depression tore through him. He
scrabbled for memories of the day before.

' What did we say to each other? Why did Voldemort taken such a
risk to see me? What the hell are we doing? Why is it ' we' now? Am
I kidding myself these days that it is 'we?' That I have any say in the
matter whatsoever? How the hell has this happened to me? How
have I fallen so far from grace and become this delusional,
desperate whore…?'

'How do you feel now?' Snape asked.

'I, I still want to die.' Draco stammered. 'I really, really want to die.' He
winced in pain, emotional pain. Snape sighed.

'I'm afraid there's not a potion for that.' He said softly and sat beside
Draco, who was fighting back tears. Without thinking, Snape
wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him close.

'Oh, Draco!' He breathed, sadly, and stroked Draco's newly healed

back. Doing this made him remember that Draco was still undressed
and he felt a flush of panic. He released Draco as quickly as possible
without wanting to seem as though he was dropping an object he
could not bear to touch. He figured Draco's self esteem was
probably messed up enough right now.

Rumours were flying around the castle. Draco Malfoy had a drink
problem. Draco Malfoy was on drugs. Draco Malfoy was going off
the rails. Draco Malfoy was a poor sensitive boy who needed some
love and understanding. Draco Malfoy had got in with a bad crowd
over the summer. Draco Malfoy had a really bad-ass older boyfriend
who was a bad influence on him… Funnily, no one speculated
'girlfriend', Draco was shocked it was so obvious, but he had bigger
things to deny and lie about these days.

All in all, Draco was a legend overnight. Even the rumours he had
spent the night in Snape's room caused great excitement. Was
Snape the older boyfriend? The gossip mongers were having a field
day.

Draco, now composed, pushing his depressive emotional hangover

deep, deep down, handled it well.

'Course I have a drink every now and again. This place is so boring
you have to get completely wasted from time to time. I don't regret it,
not like it's a big deal.' The girls, and some of the boys swooned.

The 'older boyfriend' rumours' were a little more irksome. This

concept had come from Pansy and Blaise's discussion in the
common room the night before.

'Well, he's definitely gay, isn't he? We know that now for sure.' Pansy
had said.

'We do? How?' Said Blaise, a little uncomfortable. He had known for
ages, of course.

'Did you see the state of him?' Pansy replied. 'No way did a girl do
that!'

'I don't know…' Said Blaise. 'There was a time you would have had a
bloody good try!' He winked at her!

'Shut up!' She snapped. 'No, I mean, whoever he was with was
strong, stronger than Draco and liked to play rough. Draco might be
thin, but he's pretty tough really. It must have been a man, and I'd
say someone older, bigger than him, you know?' There was some
logic in this, Blaise thought.

'Someone he met in summer, you reckon?

'I don't know, but it's not good that he won't tell anyone.' She
brooded. 'Makes me worried it's someone he shouldn't be with…'

'I must admit, I'm surprised he likes it so rough! ' Blaise thought
aloud.
'Oh Blaise! You don't think… You don't think he was…' She didn't
want to say it.

'Forced into it?' Blaise offered, not wanting to say it either. Pansy
nodded.

'No.' Said Blaise. 'No, no way. Not Malfoy. He's a competent wizard,
he can stand up for himself, I reckon. Besides I know he was drunk,
but he did seem pretty happy about what he'd been doing, didn't he?'

'I guess.' Said Pansy a little reassured. 'Oh Gods!' She exclaimed

'What?' Blaise asked.

'You know how Potter said the Dark Lord had returned and was
gathering followers?' She whispered.

'Yeah…'

'Well, Draco's Dad was one of them once, what if they have been
meeting at Draco's house? Seriously, I bet it's one of the Death
Eaters. Oh Blaise, I'm sure of it!'

Blaise though Pansy was letting her imagination run away with her.

'I doubt it Pans.' He said, but she had made up her mind.

'Who I'm seeing, if I am in fact seeing anyone, is my own business.'

Draco responded to anyone who asked. 'No, I'm not dating anyone
at this school! Like I ever would!'

It only added to his intrigue. Once upon a time, Draco would have
love to have everyone talk about him and stare at him in wonder as
he walked by, but really now, he just wanted to keep under the radar.
But everyone, literally everyone seemed to be taking notice of him.
Chapter 18
Draco kept himself out of trouble for the next couple of weeks, and
there was so much going on in school with Umbridges sadistic
detentions and new school rules, that people soon had other things
to talk about than Draco Malfoy's love life or drink problem. However,
interest was rekindled one morning over breakfast as the post
arrived and a particularly vicious black screech-owl swooped over
towards the Slytherin table with a package address to Draco.

The huge creature drew some attention to itself, squawking, as it

came to rest on the table beside Draco and Draco took the package.
The bird glared at him, and Draco wasted no time in offering it food
and water. It ignored the offer of bread and tore aggressively at
some bacon instead.

'Ooooohhhh! Draco! What is it?' Pansy cried, crowding him.

'It's an owl, Pansy.' Said Draco sarcastically 'I know you don't get
them very often but I thought you'd at least recognise one!' Pansy
gave Draco a nasty look.

'The package you idiot!'

'My ability to see through packaging isn't working this morning, so I

won't know until I open it.' Draco drawled, very aware that lots of
people in the great hall were looking at him, including a certain
goody-goody Gryffindor with glasses.

Draco did not recognise the owl, it was not one of his parents birds.
He was apprehensive to open the package around other people, as
he had no idea what was inside.

'Well open it then!' Pansy insisted and she reached to try and grab
the package… 'If you don't, I will!'
'OK, OK! Keep your hands to yourself!' Draco snapped and
tentatively he removed the brown paper. The Slytherins on the table
around him were now sitting in a hushed silence. Beneath the paper
was a black box with a gold filigree design embossed into it. The
leather was cracked and the box looked very old. It was about 7cm
squared and 3cm deep.

'Jewellery?' Breathed Pansy.

'I don't know yet!' Said Draco. Slowly he lifted the lid, keeping the
box close to his face and trying to obscure everyone else's view. He
was ready to snap it shut in an instant if he needed to.

Inside, the box was lined with black silk, and resting there was a
pendant on a silver chain. It was circular and very much like a native
American dream catcher charm, a circle with a fine web within it. In
the centre of the web was a deep green stone which seemed to have
black mist running through it. Beneath the circle hung silver charms,
a feather, a bone and a claw. The pendant seemed to whisper as the
box was opened and Draco felt a chill rush over him.

'Wow!' Whispered Pansy. 'Draco that's beautiful! Who's it from.'

'I… I don't know.' Draco said, although he had his suspicions.

'There's a note, look!' Said Pansy, pointing to a small piece of

parchment folded up in the lid. Draco lifted out the note and unfolded
it.

For sweet dreams… x

It read, simply. Draco's eyebrows arched in shock.

'It doesn't say who it's from!' Pansy cried. 'Do you know who sent it
Draco?'

'No' said Draco flatly 'I don't.'

'Are you going to keep it?' Pansy asked.

'Course I am!' Said Draco defensively. 'It was sent to me, wasn't it!'

'It's from your boyfriend, isn't it!' Pansy exclaimed.

'I don't have a 'boyfriend'! Draco snapped, and considered this to be

true. Whatever it was that he did have, you probably wouldn't
describe as a 'boyfriend'.

'Lover, then if that's what you prefer to call him!' Said Pansy hotly.
'There's no point denying it, Draco. Look! You're blushing!'

'I am not!' Retorted Draco, 'It's just, you're all crowding me! Back off
a little!' People withdrew into their seats and tried to not stare quite
so obviously. Draco shut the box and put it in his pocket. He would
take it to his dormitory and lock it away safely eventually, but he
could keep it with him… for today, at least.

'What's the big fuss about over there?' Harry asked through a
mouthful of toast. Ron looked up from his bacon and eggs.

'Dunno…' He replied, not too interested.

'Looks like Malfoy's got some kind of love token from his boyfriend.'
Ginny answered sounding completely indifferent about the scene
that was unfolding on the neighbouring table.

'Gross!' Said Ron. 'I bet it's a great big 12 inch…'

'Ron!' Shouted Hermione. 'Please! We are having breakfast!'

Harry laughed. The gift clearly wasn't what Ron had been about to
suggest, but it didn't stop Harry dwelling on the mental image when
he was alone that evening…

Draco kept the box in his pocket all day. Fascinated by it, he kept
reaching in to touch it and whenever he got a moment alone he
would take it out and look at it again.
Chapter 19
Draco did not take his Dreamless Sleep potion that night. Instead he
wore the pendant. It lulled him instantly into a deep, calm sleep. In
the morning however, he did wake up with a start. Red faced and out
of breath, but for quite a different reason to the cold sinister
nightmares he had been having. Embarrassed, he quickly uttered a
cleaning spell over his sheets before anyone else woke up.
Fortunately, wet dreams did not make him scream out loud the way
the nightmares had, so the other residents of the dormitory had not
been disturbed.

The nightmares had been sexual too, but the dreams he had when
wearing the charm were ecstatically hot. The nightmares had usually
been in a context which made them horrible. For example, the Dark
Lord would be undressing him in front of his parents, or in the great
hall at Hogwarts. In the nightmares, Draco was ashamed and
humiliated, but the sweet dreams offered by the necklace were
purely pleasurable. They were more like the afternoon in the
Shrieking Shack. Hot, forbidden, secret and lustful. Removed from
reality. As the weeks rolled on towards Christmas, Draco wore the
pendant nearly every night as it gave him a fix of what he craved.

Potter and his Weasel-friends all disappeared from Hogwarts before

the end of term, off on an early Christmas holiday, no doubt. 'One
rule for Potter, another for everyone else!' Thought Draco crossly.
Plus there had been talk all round school about Potter kissing Cho
Chang, a Ravenclaw girl in the year above. It was the latest hot
gossip.

'Stupid Potter and his stupid girlfriend! Having a nice, normal

relationship they could tell their friends about. Doing what normal
teenagers do… But she had been going out with the Hufflepuff boy
last year… Maybe Potter murdered him and forced Cho to go out
with him instead?…' Draco hoped this was what had happened.
Draco had not seen Voldemort since the day in the Shrieking Shack
and had not heard from him since the necklace arrived. His mind
was frantic as he sat on the Hogwarts Express on the way home for
the holidays.

'When will I see him? Will I see him? What if he's got bored of me?
Wait, isn't that what I should want to happen?'

The night was dark and stormy and his mother had come to pick him
up from the station, wrapped in a thick fur cloak. She hugged him
tightly and kissed him while they were still on the platform, a little
more demonstratively than in previous years. On the way to the
manor she asked all about school, how Draco's classes were going,
about his friends, about his teachers, anything to avoid Draco asking
about life at home, he suspected. Draco didn't mind too much, it was
the most normal conversation he had had with his mother since the
night Voldemort had taken him from the manor. He enjoyed her
talking to him again as though he was a normal person. However, it
was short lived.

They arrived at the manor and were instantly met by an anxious

looking Lucius. Narcissas face froze the moment she saw her
husband. Draco thought he looked drawn and tired, as though he
had been stressed for a long time.

'The Dark Lord is here.' Lucius whispered. 'He is in the drawing

room. He is demanding to see Draco.' He managed to say, shakily.

'Oh, no!' Breathed Narcissa and hugged Draco tightly.

'It's ok, Mother.' Draco said calmly, he was tired after the journey
home and couldn't cope with his parents being hysterical right now.
He didn't know if it was ok, if Voldemort had decided he was bored
of Draco, he might just kill him to get rid of him, but honestly, Draco
would face that over his emotional parents any day. Their distress in
the summer had been too much to handle.

'Draco, no!' His mother whispered.

'Really, it's ok.' Draco insisted. 'I'll be ok, don't worry about me.'

He didn't really know what to say, he didn't want them to think he

wanted to go and see Voldemort, because he didn't… honest! But
he didn't want them to be all grief stricken and start treating him like
a hospital patient again. He released himself from his mothers
embrace and his father patted his shoulder supportively before he
walked towards the drawing room door.

The room was lit by firelight only and Voldemort sat in a large green
leather armchair beside the fire.

'Draco!' He said, delighted to see him, even more delighted when he

noticed that Draco had not yet changed out of his Hogwarts uniform,
it was too good to be true!

'My Lord.' Said Draco, smiling, reading from the tone of his voice that
he probably wasn't going to kill him. Voldemort extended his hands
and Draco rushed over to him. Voldemort pulled Draco on top of him
so that he straddled him in the huge chair.

Without being invited to do so, Draco began to cover Voldemort's lips

with kisses, stroking his face with his soft hands. Voldemort took hold
of Draco's slim waist and caressed up and down his back gently, but
remained quite passive, allowing Draco to kiss him as much as he
wished.

'Am I to assume you have missed me, Draco?' He said casually

between kisses.

'Yes.' Said Draco simply and kissed him more deeply as he began to
grind his crotch against Voldemorts lap.

'What am I doing?' Draco thought. 'He didn't even ask me this time, I
just went to him… but I'm so frustrated, I had all those dreams about
it… and I know the reason he's here… There would be no point
pretending otherwise, would there?'
Draco shamelessly draping himself over his lap was turning
Voldemort on. He really liked insatiable Draco. He had been fairly
sure that the dreams provided by the necklace would have kept
Draco feeling turned on to him, it seemed to have worked.
Encouraged by feeling the Dark Lords cock getting hard beneath
him, Draco thrust against him more wantonly. Voldemort was very
pleased with Draco, but he was resolved to make him work for it this
evening.

'Do something for me, love?' Voldemort said suggestively.

'What do you want me to do?' Draco whispered.

'Get on your knees and suck me, I have so missed your pretty
mouth.' Voldemort traced his fingers over Draco's lips and he spoke.

Draco obliged and dropped to the floor in front of the chair.

Voldemort opened his robes and pointed his erect cock towards
Draco's face. Draco took hold of it gently and moved his mouth near.
His began by kissing the tip and then looking up at Voldemort whilst
teasingly licking his lips to taste his pre come. He then began to lick
at the slit as though trying to taste him as much as possible. He
flicked out his tongue and ran it around the ridge of the head, before
finally wrapping his full pink lips around it. He sucked hard on just the
head of Voldemort's cock, simultaneously running his tongue around
it too. Draco was hard himself now, enjoying playing like this.

Voldemort had watched Draco intently, and basked in the sight of the
beautiful boy, still in his school uniform, sucking him and teasing his
dick with enthusiasm. He was half moaning half growling with
pleasure when Draco finally took more of his length and began to
work back and forth. Draco's mouth was deliciously warm and wet.
Voldemort began to thrust his hips and push his dick deeper into
Draco, forcing Draco to relax his throat and take the full length.
Voldemort could easily have fucked Draco's pretty face like this until
he came, but he wanted to fuck Draco's ass too. It had been such a
long time!
He gently raised Draco's head to stop him before it was too late. His
cock throbbed desperately, missing Draco's mouth instantly.

'Take your trousers off, Draco.' Voldemort said. 'But keep your shirt
and tie on, I like you like that.'

'Pervert!' Thought Draco, who had forgotten until that point, that he
was still in his Hogwarts uniform. He removed his shoes, socks,
trousers and underwear.

'Beautiful!' Smiled Voldemort as he admired the boy, naked from the

waist down, and still in his school shirt and tie, which sported his
'prefect' badge. 'Not such a good boy now!' Voldemort thought to
himself.

Voldemort pointed to the rug in front of the fire. 'Get on your hands
and knees.' He commanded and Draco obeyed. Voldemort cast a
lubrication charm over his cock, he gently spread Draco's ass
cheeks and cast another right into Draco's tight hole. Draco jumped
as he felt the magic of the charm tingling inside him and he
whimpered in pleasure and anticipation.

Without further preparation, Voldemort pushed the head of his

achingly hard cock inside Draco. The boy was tight! Again, it was
good to know he hadn't been fucked by anyone else. Voldemort had
noticed Snape flinch the other week when Draco was mentioned. It
had raised his suspicions that Snape may have been trying to
seduce Draco while he was at school. Voldemort knew about the
crush Snape had had on Lucius. 'If he touches my Draco, I will
hardly be able to decide on the slowest and cruellest way to kill him!'
Voldemort did not like other people touching his things!

Draco cried out a little louder that he would have liked as Voldemort
breached him. He hoped to the Gods that no one had heard him.

'You can take it, Draco, love.' Voldemort whispered and he slipped
his length inside, causing Draco to whimper in pain. 'You love it,
remember?' He encouraged.
'Yes.' Draco struggled to say, half sobbing. It had been a long time,
and he had forgotten just how large Voldemort was. But he reminded
himself that this would become pleasurable once Voldemort reached
his…

'OH!' He gasped as Voldemort pushed fully inside him, hitting him

right where he needed it. Draco felt his own cock twitch at the
sensation. 'Mmmmmmm…' He relaxed as much as possible and
enjoyed the feeling as it rushed over him.

Voldemort gave Draco a few slow, firm thrusts, working himself in as

deep as he could go, and then pulling back as far as he could
without pulling out. It stung a little, but he had used plenty of
lubrication, and Draco, pleased by the deep sensations inside him,
was now wanting more. It took only a few thrusts before Draco was
pushing back against him, bucking his hips sharply.

Voldemort stopped his thrusting completely and stayed totally still

inside Draco, who moaned pleadingly for more stimulation. Why did
Voldemort tease him so…? Voldemort braced himself against the
chair.

'I want you to move, Draco.' He hissed. 'I want to fuck yourself on
my cock. I'm here for you, sweetheart, take all the pleasure you
need.'

'Fuck, that's dirty!' Draco thought and he had never felt hornier.
Voldemort sounded so sleazy when he said things like that, and
Draco hated to admit how much he loved it. He didn't need asking
twice…

Draco pushed back against Voldemort, taking the whole of his cock
inside him and writhing there as the head of it pushed on his
prostate. He bucked hard, before moving forward so that he worked
his way up Voldemort's length before sliding back down onto it again,
impaling himself there and grinding his hips.
'Ooooooh, yes!' He whispered, trying to keep as quiet as possible,
but it was difficult.

Draco loved being able to use Voldemort's cock this way, he

squirmed and writhed getting it exactly where he needed it. He felt
filthy. Draco had never used a sex toy before but he had imagined it.
This felt like he was using Voldemort's dick as a sex toy, sliding up
and down on it and pleasuring himself on it while Voldemort simply
watched him get off.

'Oh gods!… Fuck, yes!… So good!' Draco whimpered as he further

degraded himself by practically bouncing up and down on
Voldemort's erection.

'You horny little slut!' Voldemort said coolly. He was keeping as calm
as he could, but was loving every minute that the desperate Draco
fucked himself on him. ' Gods! It was hot!'

Voldemort had missed screwing Draco and had been anxious to be

able to get the best from this encounter. He had taken action to
prevent it being over too quickly.

In preparation for sex with his little Draco, he had, earlier that day,
fucked a young death eater to make sure he had relieved his
frustrations. He had chosen an attractive, young-ish man, with a wife
who was expecting their first child. Voldemort had requested to see
the man alone and had simply commanded him to pull down his
pants and bend over. Voldemort took him roughly. The man had
really tried his best not to scream… 'Tell me you love it!' The Dark
Lord had commanded. 'I… I love it… my, my Lord.' The man had
stammered choking on his sobs. ' Tell me this feels amazing, and I
had better believe you, or I will torture that pretty wife of yours!'
Voldemort had snapped at him.

Draco would have told him. Draco would have said he loved it. He
would have said Voldemort felt amazing, and that he wanted him so
much… Draco would not have needed to be told to say it. This
young man was an ungrateful bastard! Voldemort made a mental
note to send him on some impossible mission and get him killed as
soon as he could. The man made a few more feeble attempts at
saying the things he was told to. Voldemort thought back to the time
Draco had first begged to be fucked, and he came.

Draco was so much better than the others. Draco loved it, every
minute of it, Voldemort knew. He knew Draco had only tried to fight
at first because he had been brought up to behave in a virtuous way.
Draco had always been begging for it, Voldemort knew. Draco was
crazy about him.

Draco continued to thrust back onto him whimpering and sobbing

with pleasure in breathless gasps. Voldemort smiled, he might help
him out a little. He took hold of Draco's hips and began to work him
into a slow rhythm, making sure he filled Draco entirely with each
push. He worked him steadily and he whispered as he asked,

'Do you ever think about me, Draco? Do you think about me when I
am not with you?'

'Yes, my Lord.' Said Draco softly. 'I think about you often.' He
breathed.

'Do you think about me fucking you, honey?' Voldemort smiled in a

patronising way.

'Yes.' Answered Draco.

It was true, he did think about it. It often troubled him, but he
suspected this was not what the Dark Lord wanted to hear.
Sometimes it troubled him, other times… well, he suspected
Voldemort would rather hear about them.

'And what do you do when you think about it?' Voldemort asked with
a grin. Draco was embarrassed, but still caught up in the kinky thrill
he had had from pleasuring himself on Voldemort's cock, so he
answered…
'I touch myself. I get off when I think about you. I imagine you fucking
me and it makes me come.'

Voldemort stopped his thrusts.

'You imagine me fucking you and you touch yourself? '

'Yes.' Said Draco softly. Voldemort slowly pulled out of him.

'Show me.' He said.

Up on his knees, Draco felt very embarrassed now, but not so

embarrassed that he wasn't still rock hard. He looked nervously at
Voldemort… 'Really…?' He thought.

'Show me where you touch yourself, Draco love.' He encouraged.

Slowly Draco moved his hand down over his stomach and lifted the
hem of his shirt so his cock was clearly visible. He brushed his hand
lightly over it.

'Here.' He whispered, and paused for a moment before taking hold of

his dick, which was desperate for touch, and beginning to stroke it
back and forth. 'Like this…' He breathed.

Voldemort drew a deep breath as he watched pretty little Draco

tugging at his own cock, his eyes fluttering from time to time as he
worked it. Voldemort let him continue for a while before prompting
him,

'Where else do you touch yourself?'

Draco released his cock and cupped his balls, he gently pulled on
them and toyed with them.

'Here.' He said, giving Voldemort the subtlest smile, his expression a

combination of shyness and brazenness which was thoroughly
intoxicating.
'Anywhere else…?' Voldemort asked with a lustful grin.

Draco leaned forward and he reached his hand round to his ass. His
legs apart as he kneeled on the rug, he placed his index finger to his
own entrance.

'Here.' He whispered. 'Like this…' And he slipped his finger inside his
hole. Voldemort gasped audibly as Draco penetrated himself and
began to slip his finger in and out. Draco was gratified to hear that
Voldemort was hugely aroused by this. Draco had never imagined
letting anyone watch him do this, even if that person was fucking him
from time to time.

'And like this…' He said, sounding shy, and he slipped a second

finger inside. 'And like this…' He added a third finger and proceeded
to work them inside his passage.

'You hot little whore!' Voldemort hissed.

'I do this and I think about having you inside me. It's so much better
when I have you inside me!' Draco whispered playfully. Who would
have ever thought that having someone watch you masturbate would
be so much of a turn on?

'Give yourself another finger.' Voldemort suggested, wondering how

far Draco would willingly go.

Draco, at once grateful for his small and girlish hands, was able to
take a forth finger without too much discomfort. It felt good actually
and he gasped with pleasure.

'More, Draco.' Said Voldemort in a low, husky voice, his arousal so

intense he was struggling to speak. Draco was a little afraid now. By
contorting his hand, he was able to get his thumb inside himself too.
He pushed and pulled his fingers back and forth, moaning and trying
to keep his breathing steady.

'Take it all, Draco.' Voldemort managed to say.

Draco froze for a second. Was Voldemort really asking him to fist
himself? Could he do it? Was it even safe to do that? Draco didn't
know. But what he was doing right now felt good, and Voldemort
sounded like he was about to come any second from simply
watching. The adrenalin gave Draco the nerve to try. He was well
lubricated, and he took a deep breath and clenched his teeth and he
began to push hard into his own asshole. He knew the knuckles
would be the widest part and he had to try to get passed that. He
whimpered as his ring began to stretch more than ever before.

'You can take it, baby.' Voldemort rasped, sounding frantically

aroused.

Draco felt so turned on knowing that Voldemort was watching him

and practically coming just from the sight of him. It spurred him on to
go further. He cried out in pain as the widest part of his hand entered
his hole. After the sting of the extreme stretch the rest of his hand
slipped in more gently and he realised he had done it. It was an
insane feeling, unbelievably intense, he could reach all the very best
and most sensitive areas inside himself. Draco wondered why he
had never thought of doing this before as he started to gently move
his hand back and forth.

'Fuck, Draco! Fucking Hell!' Voldemort stammered as he watched

Draco fisting his own asshole for the first time. He could not imagine
a more mind blowingly horny sight.

Draco grazed his fingers over his own prostate and hissed with
pleasure. He was close, really close… He cried out and suddenly his
cock erupted and spurted his seed all over the rug beneath him.

'Oh, Fuck, Draco! Fuck that's hot!' Voldemort managed to say, his
voice shaking terribly.

Draco gritted his teeth once more as he prepared to withdraw his

hand. It hurt for a few seconds but once it was out, the pain lessened
dramatically. Voldemort trembled as he watched Draco's ring
contract, twitching as it returned to its normal size. Draco was
shaking a little now, not quite believing what he had just done.

Voldemort pulled him up to his knees and kissed him for all he was
worth. Draco really was crazy about him. Beautiful, haughty Draco
Malfoy, was crazy about him and crazy about sex too, pretty dirty
sex! He truly was the hottest little whore in all the world and
Voldemort was utterly thrilled with him.

Draco had been worried that stretching himself that much might have
had lasting effects, but up on his knees in the new position, he felt
like he was going back to normal. It was fortunate his hands were
small and slim, any more would have been too much!

After the floorshow he had just witnessed, Voldemort desperately

needed to come. Without warning, he pushed Draco down so his
head was level with his crotch, and Draco responded eagerly by
taking his cock in his mouth. He was grateful Voldemort wasn't
fucking him again right away, he felt like he needed a bit of time to
heal in that area as it felt sore. Voldemort was not going to last long
and Draco sucked him hungrily and in seconds he was filling Draco's
mouth with his fluid. Draco took every last drop, sucking it out of him
until his cock stopped twitching in his mouth. He pulled away and
licked his lips in a satisfied way, not least because Voldemort had
actually screamed his name as he climaxed.

Afterwards, they lay in a post orgasmic daze on the rug, Voldemort

behind Draco with his arms around him. Voldemort had conjured a
blanket over them. Draco had felt like he could just drift off to sleep
here, until his eyes drifted down to the patterns on the rug… His
stomach had begun to churn as he remembered playing on this rug
as a child, his mother watching him and his father standing over
them. How could that be the same lifetime as this? He wished
Voldemort would apparate them away to the bed with the black
drapes, as what happened there felt distant from the rest of his life.

'I will have to go, Draco love.' Voldemort sighed, 'I have people to
meet with tonight.' Draco turned to face him, caressed his face and
pouted a little, letting him know he didn't want him to leave. 'I'm sorry,
sweetheart.' Voldemort smiled.

Draco sighed. 'It's ok.'

'It should be ok… You sick little bastard! Your poor parents, you
don't think about them any more do you, you disgusting slut?…
No kinder voice spoke up for him this time. Either Draco no longer
had a nice side, or it had quite run out of ways to defend his
behaviour.

With a promise to return soon, Voldemort reluctantly left and Draco

remained on the rug for some time before dressing and leaving the
scene of his crimes.

Lucius and Narcissa had retreated to the far side of the house as
they could not bear to overhear anything that happened in the
drawing room. Lucius had had several glasses of Fire-Whiskey and
gripped the crystal glass tightly, so tightly that he actually shattered it
in his hand, cursing under his breath and uttering a quick Repairo to
fix it. Narcissa stared out of the window into the black night.

Voldemort's plans had kept the death eaters working round the clock
these past few weeks, but they had still found the time an energy to
taunt Lucius and Narcissa about the fate of their son.

'At least we should all get some time off over Christmas,' one had
remarked. 'The Dark Lord will be busy fucking the Malfoy boy, won't
he!'

'Oh yeah, his little catamite will be home from school!' Said another.
'Tell your son to keep the Dark Lord thoroughly entertained, Lucius
will you? I could do with a break from work!'

'Oh, don't worry.' A third replied. 'I've heard that Draco fucks like a
bitch on heat, The Dark Lord probably won't leave the bedroom for 2
weeks!'
Lucius had cracked at that moment and drew his wand, pointing it at
the third man's face, his hand shaking with rage. The 3 death eaters
only laughed, Lucius wouldn't dare torture one of them without being
instructed to. Narcissa had dragged her husband away before he did
something they would both regret.

Draco could not face his parents after the scene in the drawing
room. He instructed Spinks the house elf, to tell them that The Dark
Lord had left and that Draco had gone to his room and would see
them in the morning. He also instructed the elf to bring him a healing
potion, a sleeping draft, and a bottle of Fire-Whiskey. These things in
places, he locked the door of his room, and took both potions
directly. He was asleep before he had time to start on the Fire-
Whiskey. Maybe he would have that for breakfast.
Chapter 20
The next morning, Draco had fought hard to package up the events
of last night and put them away in a place inside his mind which he
saved for that kind of thing. He needed to keep thoughts and
memories like that away from the rest of his life, otherwise he would
never be able to look anyone in the eye again.

He decided to keep the bottle of Fire-Whiskey for later, and joined

his parents for breakfast. The atmosphere was a little strained as
they all tried to pretend that last night had not unfolded the way it
had, and that Draco had just come home from school like any other
boy.

Voldemort visited Draco many times during the holiday. Sometimes

he took him away with him to the black 4 poster bed, where Draco
would be noisy and uninhibited, knowing his parents could not hear
him. Other times, it pleased Voldemort to come to the Manor and see
Draco there. On Christmas eve, he apparated into the main hall
where Draco was with his parents, making plans for the next day.

He greeted them all coolly, and took Draco by the hand and lead
Draco up the stairs to his own bedroom while his parents watched in
disbelief. Draco was mortified and kept his eyes to the ground, but
Voldemort gave Lucius and Narcissa a gloating, sickly smile as they
headed for the stairs.

Lucius felt a surge of rage rip through him and he shook visibly as he
tried to control himself. Was it not enough that the Dark Lord was
intent to make a whore of their only son, and that he obviously
bragged about the details to the death eaters? Wasn't it cruel
enough of him to be so indiscreet that even Severus, Draco's
teacher for Gods sake, the hopeless boy who had once followed
Lucius around like a lap-dog, now asked him in sympathetic tones if
Draco was 'alright.' It was bad enough that people taunted them
about Voldemort's use of their son, and even worse that people like
Severus pitied them. On top of all of this, Voldemort now came into
their home and lead their son off to the bedroom right in front of
them.

Once upstairs, Draco had expected to be screwed obscenely and

made to perform all manner of filthy acts. He was caught off guard
when Voldemort whispered a locking spell on the door and a
silencing spell over the room, before taking Draco in his arms gently
and kissing him softly as he undressed him.

Naked, they climbed into bed together and continued kissing. Some
deep intense kisses, some lighter and softer, some teasing and
playful. Under the blankets their naked bodies tangled around each
other and their hands explored every muscle, every curve. Voldemort
climbed on top of Draco and got between his legs. Casting a
lubrication spell, he slowly slipped inside him, eliciting a nervous
moan of delight from the boy beneath him.

He fucked him gently but firmly, driving into him with deep slow
thrusts, whilst looking into Draco's twilight grey eyes. Usually when
he took Draco in this position it was so that he could pin him down by
his wrists and hold him still, but today he caressed Draco's face and
hair as he fucked him. Draco whispered to him.

'You're so good… Oh yes! Oh gods, yes… I, I need you, so much!'

Draco kissed him breathlessly, blown away by the intensity of such
'ordinary' sex.

'You are so beautiful, Draco, my darling!' Voldemort hissed. 'My

perfect little angel…'

The words unnerved Draco. What was Voldemort doing? What were
they doing? It wasn't usually like this… Was this the closest they had
ever come to… making… love? Draco felt sick at the thought, and
nauseated by his own emotions. Wanting sex with Voldemort was
one thing, but, having feelings for him was more terrible than Draco
could comprehend.
'My sweet little Draco…' Voldemort continued, staring into his eyes
and whispering softly into Draco's slightly parted lips. 'My lovely one!
Gods! You are beautiful!'

Draco whimpered. Three little words were forming in his heart, rising
up and threatening to escape from his mouth. He could not let
himself say it, he could not!

'I… I, I want you…' He whispered, compromising. 'So much. I want

you so much.'

Voldemort moved inside him, continuing to develop the feelings, both

physical and emotional, that were building in Draco. Draco decided
to limit himself to wordless moans of ecstasy as he felt his orgasm
approaching, to avoid saying anything he shouldn't. Voldemort
kissed him, brushing his tongue lightly over Draco's lips.

'Come for me, darling. I love making you come.' He said softly. He
reached for Draco's cock and began to stroke him, in the same slow
rhythm as he fucked him.

Draco shivered and moaned softly. 'I'm.. so close… I'm… Oh!' He

reached a breathtaking climax as Voldemort pushed hard inside him.
Voldemort felt Draco's cock pulse in his hand and felt Draco's ass
tense around him as he came. It felt electrifying.

'Good boy, Draco.' He whispered, and he continued to fuck him,

building his speed a little to get himself there. He smiled down and
the boy beneath him. Draco's face was flushed, and his breathing
was rapid, yet beginning to slow after his climax. His hair was messy,
he looked innocent and angelic, he was smiling… Voldemort's
thrusts sped up until he climaxed inside Draco, making Draco gasp
again.

They lay together afterwards, Draco resting his head on Voldemort's

chest, Voldemort absentmindedly toying with Draco's blond hair.
Neither of them spoke for some time.
'It was never meant to be like this…'

Voldemort stayed the night with Draco, he curled around him,

holding him as they slept. Although unaccustomed to sharing his
own bed with anyone, Draco slept well in Voldemort's arms. He slept
without the aid of a potion or any Fire-Whiskey, or the charmed
necklace. When he moved in the night Voldemort simply moved with
him and they settled back down into sleep again together.

Voldemort work early on Christmas morning and his movement woke

Draco, who opened his eyes and looked up at him and smiled
sleepily. Voldemort kissed him softly on the lips.

'Morning Draco.' He whispered.

'Hello…' Draco yawned. 'Happy Christmas.' He added, as he turned

towards Voldemort and wrapped his arms around him, snuggling
back down. Voldemort had planned to get up and leave straight
away, but decided he could stay a little longer. After all, beautiful,
sweet little Draco, naked and adoring him was the only Christmas
present he was going to get, which was just fine as it was the only
one he wanted… other than world domination of course.

'Do you want tea?' Draco asked as he woke up a little and felt he
should be hospitable, or something…

'Errr… yes love, that would be nice.' Voldemort said, surprised that
Draco had offered. The silencing charms had faded now and Draco
sat up and summoned the house elf.

Spinks was more than slightly shocked to see the Dark Lord was still
there, sitting in bed with 'poor master Draco', who looked far more
relaxed than he should under the circumstances.

Draco ordered him to bring tea, and he bought a perfectly made up

tea tray. He fought to keep his little hands from shaking as he
presented it, and vanished again as quickly as he could.
Draco and Voldemort drank tea in bed, and when they had finished,
Draco climbed onto Voldemort's lap, kissed him and rode his cock
until they both came.

When Voldemort left, Draco showered and dressed and went

downstairs to see his parents, anticipating that the day was set to
downhill from here.

Aunty Bella was coming for lunch. Draco couldn't stand her, she was
completely crazy and everyone knew it. She had escaped from
Azkaban and insisted on seeing her family regularly, paying far too
much attention to Draco for his liking. She wanted to make sure he
had developed the 'right' values and was being raised properly. She
always felt her sister was too soft on the boy. Aunty Bella was a
death eater, and what's more, she was completely crazy about
Voldemort, in a way that went beyond the usual mindless following of
the others. Hers was a fanatical obsession, it was as though she
never thought about anything else and was just waiting for the
moment when she could talk about him again.

' It's like she's in love with him or something. Today will not go well…'
Draco thought.

She arrived at the Manor, looking as she always did. Traditional

Pure-blood wizarding gowns, but tightly fitted at the waist and cut too
low at the top for someone her age, Draco thought. It was certainly
too low cut for Christmas dinner with her sister and family. Bellatrix's
hair was as huge and messy as ever, making her look like she had
slept in a ditch. Her eyes were heavily shadowed and her lips
painted a deep shade of red. She looked like an aging prostitute and
Draco could picture her hanging about in some dark bar on
Knockturn alley. Despite all of this, she had excellent bone structure
and a strikingly well proportioned face, she could have been an
attractive woman. 'Could have been, if she wasn't 110% bat-shit
crazy .' Draco thought.

'Sissy!… And darling Lucius!' She exclaimed and she hugged them
both and kissed them. Draco remembered her hugs, they made you
feel like you had been mauled by Devils Snare. She turned to Draco
and her sickly smile disappeared and he eyes narrowed.

'Draco…' She said harshly, barley disguising the venom in her voice.
'My sweet little baby nephew…' She ran her hand over his face. 'But
you are all grown up now, aren't you, little Draco?' She drawled
suggestively. Draco felt sick. He really, really hated Aunty Bella.

She glared at him all through dinner. Narcissa attempted to make

pleasant conversation and Lucius was trying his best to be charming,
but Bellatrix kept ranting on about the activities of the death eaters,
and the Dark Lord coming to power. Each time she mentioned the
Dark Lord she looked intently at Draco, who was so inordinately
grateful that he had been taught Occulmency from a young age. She
was trying to read him, but he gave nothing away.

In actual fact, he felt more angry than intimidated. He and his

parents had precious few opportunities to be a normal family, these
days, and here was this crazy old hag messing it up for them.

' In fact, if she asks one more time if we are 'truly ready for the
coming of the Dark Lord…' Draco thought he might just crack and
tell her exactly how much he knew about 'the coming of the Dark
Lord', having experienced it for himself only hours before! But Draco
didn't want to upset his parents.

As they made their way to the drawing room Draco's parents were
delayed giving orders to Spinks, and Bella took the opportunity to get
Draco alone.

The moment they were in the Drawing room and out of sight, she
wheeled round on him, grabbed him and pinned him to the wall by
his throat.

She was surprisingly strong, 'they say that about crazy people, don't
they?' Draco thought. He resisted the urge to shout 'Take your filthy
hands off me you crazy bitch!' as he remembered just in time that
this was a woman capable of killing people, and torturing them just
for fun… 'That sort of thing doesn't usually bother you…' The
voice in his head began, but there was no time, Bellatrix spoke.

'I don't need to be able to read your mind to know what you have
been doing, you obnoxious little brat!' She hissed.

'Stop trying then!' Said Draco defiantly, being either brave or stupid,
or a little of both.

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, her face contorted with
rage.

'Why you, Draco? Why would the Dark Lord chose you? You pathetic
little boy!' She hissed. 'I bet you think you are something special,
don't you?'

'No. I don't think I'm special!' Draco said. Bella's grip loosened. 'But
Voldemort does.' He added, his voice stained with malice.

Bellatrix shrieked and pinned him hard against the wall once more.
Once upon a time, Draco would have been terrified, but the
emotional rollercoaster he had lived on for the past 6 months had
made him reckless. He had been scared he was going to be killed
too many times, and something about that made him take risks he
would never have taken before.

'You DARE speak his name?!' Bella roared.

Draco narrowed his eyes. 'Oh… believe me, I SCREAM his name!'
Draco spat back at her.

Bellatrix looked for a moment like someone had just drained all the
blood from her body, but then, recovering herself, she flung Draco
across the room with a scream and drew her wand. Draco knew the
agony of the torture curse, but for the look he had just seen on his
Aunts face, he would have endured it, for a short time at least. He
did not have to however, as his mother appeared and in a flash of
light, attacked her sister sending her flying across the room. Lucius
appeared in the doorway his own wand drawn also.

Crumpled in the corner, Bellatrix began to laugh.

'Oh, Sissy!' She giggled. 'Draco and I were only playing. You seem
rather over protective of your son these days… nothing wrong is
there?'

'Of course not.' Said Narcissa defensively, as she poured them all a
drink and they sat down.

They were all extremely glad when Bella left.

When Draco returned to his room that night he was still fuming about
his Aunt and her vile presence in their home, but he was secretly
pleased that he had made her so angry and that he had stood up to
her. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a parcel on the bed.

It was wrapped in dark grey paper and tied with a green ribbon, there
was no card with it. Draco eyed it suspiciously. Was it a trick? Had
Aunty Bella somehow put it there? Cautiously he unwrapped it.
Inside was a box which he opened and, not wanting to reach in
without being sure what was inside, he turned it upside down so that
the object inside slid out onto the bed.

A beautiful silver statue of a snake, it's tail coiled, it's head raised, it's
mouth open. Deep green stones glistened in its eyes. Draco gasped
and picked up the snake. As he did, the eyes began to glow vividly. It
was heavy, he felt he needed two hands to hold it, but the second his
other hand made contact with the snake, he felt a jolt and he was
jarred away from his room, a rushing noise in his ears. The snake
was a port-key.

Seconds later, he stood in the dark bedroom next to the four poster
bed with the black drapes.
Chapter 21
'The eyes glow when it's safe to come here, Draco. That's when the
port-key will work. I wouldn't want you to come here when I am not
here. It might not be safe.' Voldemort added, 'And you won't be able
to use it from school, as you can't apparate or port-key from within
the grounds…'

Draco nodded and smiled at Voldemort. 'But I'm here now…' He said
in a low voice.

Voldemort smiled lustfully. 'Yes, you are!'

Draco placed the snake port-key on the bedside table and walked
towards Voldemort, his eyes narrowing deviously.

He flung himself at Voldemort practically knocking the Dark Lord

backwards onto the bed. He grabbed his wrists and tried to pin him
down as Voldemort had so often done to him. Without too much
effort, however, Voldemort was able to reverse the positions and get
on top of Draco, whilst Draco fought back at him.

'Who's a feisty little thing this evening?' Voldemort laughed as Draco

struggled. 'I would tie you up if I didn't like the way you fight!'

Draco wanted to fight. He wanted to fight and then to be over

powered, he wanted the adrenalin rush. He wanted to take risks. He
moved to kiss Voldemort and at the last second he went for his neck,
latching on hard and sucking and biting so as to leave one hell of a
mark.

'Gods! Draco!' Gasped Voldemort, hugely aroused by the pain Draco

had just caused him. He returned the favour, biting Draco's neck so
hard that he drew blood. Draco screamed in both pain and delight
and fought his way on top of Voldemort, gripping him between his
thighs and snarling at him. Draco tore at Voldemort's robes,
revealing his chest, he pounced down onto the naked flesh, biting
and licking him. He playfully bit down on a firm nipple, making
Voldemort gasp in shock and pleasurable pain. Before abandoning
his robes completely, he grabbed his wand and cast a charm to
remove Draco's clothes. Naked fighting would be more fun.

He grabbed Draco firmly and flung him face down on the bed.

'You are being really naughty this evening, Draco!' he hissed. 'You
need to be punished!' He raised his hand and bought it down hard
across Draco's ass. The stinging was amazing and Draco yelped.
Voldemort spanked him again. Draco enjoyed the pain, he had
fantasised about being spanked enough times, the reality was not
disappointing. Draco squirmed on the bed as Voldemort smacked
him repeatedly. He could feel his ass reddening as Voldemort
thrashed him, and his cries were both of pain and rapture.

'Are you going to be a good boy now?' Voldemort hissed, admiring

Draco's pink ass cheeks.

'No!' Gasped Draco. Getting up to his knees and staring at

Voldemort. 'I won't be!' And with that he lunged towards him, lashing
out with his hands, slapping and clawing at Voldemort's torso.

'You little bastard!' Voldemort snapped at him, and slapped him hard
across the face.

The pain was more than exhilarating. Draco was knocked across the
bed by the force of it. He and Voldemort were on opposite corners of
the bed now, like boxers in a ring. The glared at each other.

Draco would never win in a battle for dominance, but he didn't really
want to. He wanted to submit, but he wanted to fight first. Perhaps
the pain of being slapped around appeased him for not having fought
harder in the first place, he wasn't sure, but he lunged at Voldemort
again.
Voldemort caught him by the wrists before Draco's attack could be
effective, flung him down onto his back and pounced on top of him.
He fought his way between Draco's legs where his erection pointed
at Draco's entrance. Pinning Draco down he penetrated him roughly
with no preparation.

Aroused as Draco was, this was very painful. He screamed in agony.

He desperately wanted Voldemort inside him, but like this is was
hard to bare, the sharp intense stinging, he was frightened the skin
would tear. Voldemort gave him a deep, punishing thrust.

'Fuck you!' Draco screamed, wrenching one of his hands free and
slapping Voldemort hard across the face with impressive force. It
hurt, but Voldemort only laughed.

'You fucking bastard!' Draco cried, clawing at him with his long nails.
The sex was becoming less painful with each thrust, but it didn't
lessen Draco's anger. Who was he angry at? Voldemort? His Aunt?
His parents? Himself? He didn't know, but he needed a release and
Voldemort could give him that.

'Fuck You!' he shouted again.

'Oooh, temper, temper, little one!' Voldemort hissed, screwing him

hard and stroking his flushed face gently, while Draco continued to
writhe and fight. Draco snarled and couldn't suppress a moan of
pleasure as Voldemort hit the spot inside him that made him squirm.

'Not enjoying your punishment are you?' Voldemort laughed

pounding Draco harder and Draco flung his arms around Voldemort
and scratched his long nails down the length of Voldemort's back,
making the Dark Lord hiss with pleasure. Draco reached up and
sunk his teeth into Voldemort's neck.

'Aaahh! Fuck!' Gasped Voldemort, frozen for a moment. Draco

released him. This time Draco had drawn blood. Draco's eyes
narrowed menacingly and he licked his lips.
'Fuck, you evil little brat!' He whispered, shocked. 'Gods, I ought to
thrash you senseless for that!' He raised his hand and slapped
Draco across the face hard at close range, all the time whilst still
thrusting inside him.

He slapped Draco so hard Draco saw stars for a moment. 'Aaah!' He

cried in pain. Voldemort had hit him hard enough to make him bleed.

Voldemort slowly licked Draco's face, tasting his blood, loving the
smell of blood mixed with sweat, the metallic taste of blood on his
tongue. He could taste Draco's adrenalin and his arousal and it
drove him wild.

Draco shivered with pleasure as he gasped for breath. Voldemort

rolled them over so that Draco was on top of him.

'Ride me, slut!' He commanded. 'Put some of that aggression to

good use.'

Draco snarled and began to work his body back and forth, grinding
his hips and thrusting his pelvis.

'Fuck, that's good, Draco!' Voldemort hissed, feeling Draco's

tightness clenching around his cock and watching Draco taking all of
him and loving it. Gasping, Draco flicked his hair back, riding
Voldemort like a wild bull. Voldemort arched his hips to give Draco
more stimulation.

'Oh Gods! Yes, that's so fucking good!' Draco cried as the head of
Voldemort's cock hammered his prostate. He dragged his nails down
Voldemort's chest, making the Dark Lord moan in delight at the
stinging sensation it caused. He reached for Draco's cock and began
to wank him firmly.

'Fuck… I'm so close…' Draco gasped. 'Please, make me come, I

need it so bad.' Voldemort smiled a wicked smile.
'Yes, you do. So come for me, bitch, come all over me.' Draco did not
need to be asked twice and he came rapidly, spraying his seed all
over Voldemort's chest. His passage contracted as he came and his
thrusts ripped a ferocious orgasm from Voldemort, who arched his
hips and groaned deeply as he came.

Afterwards they lay on the bed. Voldemort gave Draco a cigarette.

He had been smoking from time to time since that day in the
Shrieking Shack, usually when he was missing Draco. He also
offered him wine, which Draco accepted gratefully.

'So, what were you so angry about, love?' Voldemort asked, exhaling
a cloud of smoke.

'I don't know.' Draco replied honestly. 'I'm 15, I'm supposed to be
angry, aren't I? Isn't that how it works?'

Voldemort thought for a while.

'Yes, I think so.' He said. He had been angry at 15, he had been
angry all his life.

'Thank you.' Draco said quietly.

'What for?'

'Letting me be angry. Fighting me…' Draco trailed off for a moment.

'And not letting me win.' He added quietly. The Dark Lord smiled at
him with a glint in his red eyes.

'My pleasure, love.' He hissed. 'I am here for you. Here for you if you
need to fight, or fuck, or both.'

'I need you.' Said Draco, putting down his cigarette and turning
towards Voldemort. 'I need you to make everything else go away, I
need you to be in control.' He whispered softly. Voldemort was
puzzled, Draco had never spoken like this before.
'You need me?' He echoed, gently touching Draco's face. Draco's
voice had been quiet, and there was a touch of desperation in it,
Voldemort wondered why Draco felt this way.

'I need you.' Draco repeated. 'I feel so dreadful sometimes, but when
I am with you, you take me away from everything. The whole world
stops existing and there is only you.'

These feelings had crept up on Draco over the past months.

Somewhere between his horror at becoming Voldemort's lover, and
his realisation that he was thoroughly addicted to it, he had
emotionally dislodged himself from the rest of the world. Draco
walked among the everyday people in his life and exhausted himself
by living up to their expectations, but he was not one of them. He
was isolated from the world and only felt alive in the moments when
Voldemort took him over. In his day to day life he would hear people
talk about Voldemort, but it was not the same person, surely, as the
one he knew. These people did not know, they could not know.
Voldemort had lead Draco so far from the path where he could
recognise right from wrong that Draco was utterly and hopelessly
lost. Now Voldemort was the only familiar thing in his life.

Voldemort kissed him and held him tightly, not sure what to say. He
wanted to keep Draco away from the rest of the world and have him
here always. He would have liked to not send Draco back to that
terrible school where he was surrounded by mudblood barbarians
and the idiots that defend them. He wanted Draco by his side, his
beautiful trophy, his prize. He wanted Draco to know how he felt, but
the words were hard to find.

'I am here for you Draco, love.' He managed to say. 'You are mine.'
He felt Draco smile against his skin. Draco knew he would have to
leave and go back to school soon, and the darkness would catch him
up, but he could breath now. He was in that 'other' place where
reality did not exist.
Chapter 22
And so Draco's 'relationship' with Voldemort continued. Draco kept
up appearances at school, playing the part he had always played,
being the arrogant, vindictive Draco everyone knew and many
people loved. He joined the 'Inquisitorial squad', he strutted, crowed
and bullied, never once letting on that inside he was shaking, crying,
screaming because of what had been done to him, and because he
now missed it desperately. He had even got better at hiding his
feelings from his friends. The Drunken episode was almost forgotten
and Pansy and Blaise were glad to see Draco 'back to normal'.

He saw Voldemort in the holidays when he returned home, and

occasionally when his parents would bring him home at the weekend
due to some fictional emergency. He knew, when this happened, that
Voldemort had asked for him.

'Surely, you must be tired of our Draco by now, my Lord?' Lucius

asked with a nervous tremor in his voice, when he spoke with
Voldemort before the Easter holidays. He tried to make his question
sound casual and unemotional, but Voldemort read his intonation
'Please leave our son alone.'

'No, Lucius.' He said coldly. 'I am most certainly not 'tired of Draco',
although he can be demanding at times. And you really should
consider your sons feelings a little more. I assure you, Draco is not
tired of me!' He watched for Lucius's reaction. Lucius gulped and
said nothing. Voldemort continued.

'I admit, Draco likes to play rough sometimes, but don't fear, Lucius, I
have never done him any serious damage. In fact, Draco seems to
enjoy a little pain. He seems to confuse pain with affection… I can't
imagine who he has learnt that from.'

Draco spent most of the Easter holidays in Voldemort's bed. He

drank and smoked too much as Voldemort indulged him with things
he wanted. He went back to school feeling that he had had the fix he
needed to survive the summer term. He slept wearing the Sweet
Dreams pendant.

One weekend, Draco lay in Voldemort's bed, in a post orgasmic chill,

when Voldemort spoke to him more seriously than he usually did.

'Draco love.' He said, and Draco sat up and faced him sensing this
was important.

'What is it? We just had amazing sex… is he going to finish with me?
Surely he would just kill me if that was the case. That would be
better than breaking up with me… Do you think he's 'going out
with you'? You are a joke!'

'Draco, I have an important mission coming up, your father is

involved, he is going to help me to get something I need. I am telling
you because I want you to know, I do not want you involved in my
work at this stage, it might not be safe. You need to know if things
don't go well, my presence may be revealed to the world, and I will
need to take action and keep you safe.'

Draco thought on this for a moment. He did not want to ask about
Voldemort's 'work' it was something he tried to avoid ever thinking
about.

'How will you keep me safe?' he asked.

'I may not see you for some time if needs be. It is not what I want,
but I don't want you caught up in this… It won't always be like this.'
He added.

Draco said nothing for a moment, frightened, because they never

spoke to each other like this! 'Can't you tell me any more than that?'
He asked at last, not sure why, as he didn't want to know.

'No, love. But it will happen before the summer. I will see you in the
summer and I don't want you to worry. One day it won't be like this.'
He assured Draco.

'What will it be like?' Draco asked, genuinely curious about

Voldemort's vision.

'I will be in power, and there will be no more hiding.' Voldemort

answered simply and kissed Draco. 'Now, hush little one, it's not for
you to worry.'

Voldemort had not been exaggerating. The fiasco at the Ministry was
well publicised and everyone was talking about it. Draco, of course
had to learn about it second hand, when Potter, Potter had once
again been there in the thick of it and Draco, again, felt like the
stupid child on the sidelines.

Draco's father had been arrested, causing mixed feelings for Draco.
But when Potter actually taunted Draco about Voldemort being
friends with his father, it was too much to bare.

Draco knew that the mission had failed, he wondered how angry
Voldemort would be, with his father, with him? What if he no longer
wanted him? 'Will he kill me?' Draco wondered. He did not mind the
thought of being killed, because after everything that had happened
if Voldemort no longer wanted him he did not imagine he would be
able to live anyway . 'People don't just go on living after something
like this, do they?' 'What if he hates me and just hands me over to
the death eaters, for their amusement?' Death was a better prospect.
Perhaps he would make sure he had a potion that would end things,
just in case he needed it. Draco had never felt so alone and afraid,
yet even in his desperation he was clever and logical enough to
make the necessary plans.

Voldemort did not see Draco until 2 weeks into the summer holidays,
during which Draco hardly ate or slept. He was in hell. Or was it
purgatory? He was rejected, and the cruel voice inside his head
tortured him relentlessly about how stupid he had been to believe for
one moment that he had been anything more than a casual dumb
fuck. He considered taking the poison on more than one occasion,
until one evening, a letter came summoning him and his mother to a
meeting of the death eaters.

Draco's heart almost stopped. He had never been allowed to be at

such meetings before, was this a good thing or a bad thing? He
would have to see Voldemort for the first time in ages in front of other
people… Why had Voldemort arranged this? Because he no longer
wanted to be alone with Draco? Because Draco was just another
follower now? If that were true, Draco would take the poison without
a thought. He did not want to be a follower, he did not want to be part
of that world. He needed to go to that other place and if it was no
longer an option then he did not want to carry on living. How could
he live with no escape from the misery that his life had become?
Somehow he had been reduced to this, this mess, this excuse for a
person. He was incomplete and broken and that was no way to live.

Voldemort had been so very angry with Lucius for the cock up at the
ministry, and he had been afraid to see Draco in case he was unable
to control himself and had taken his anger out on him. That was not
what he wanted. But as the days wore on, he desperately wanted to
see his little Draco again. He contrived to see Draco publically, the
first time, just to be safe. Then, if he felt angry, Narcissa could take
Draco away. Voldemort wanted to keep Draco safe, even from
himself.

Draco waited with his mother outside the main room where the Dark
Lord met his followers. His presence attracted some attention. There
were smirks and stares. Draco overheard comments like

'Just one of us now.'… and

'How the mighty have fallen.'… and worryingly…

'If the Dark Lord's finished with him, maybe we will all get a turn…'

Draco clutched the vial of poison in his pocket.

They were summoned into the room. Voldemort sat at the head of a
long table and he watched them file in. His eyes immediately fell on
the nervous blond boy who looked shyly up at him, with strange
twilight grey eyes.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that split second of
connection, Voldemort felt all of Draco's longing, his desperation and
his need. In that moment, Draco's lips parted slightly and he drew a
deep breath, his heart hammering at the inside of his ribs.

Voldemort feel Draco's emotions as intensely as if he had been hit

by an arrow through the heart. He felt Draco's need and desire and
his anger melted. He beckoned Draco and his mother to the top of
the table and had Draco sit beside him.

Draco looked nervously at Voldemort as he sat down and Voldemort

reached over and caressed his face approvingly. This moved was
noticed by all, but no one dared show any response.

Draco understood only about half of what was being said during the
formal part of the meeting, he was deliriously ecstatic because
Voldemort had made a gesture to show that he still wanted him. His
head was swimming with relief. He wanted nothing more than for this
meeting to be over and for Voldemort to take him to his bed. It had
been so long, and he had been so lonely, he wanted to fuck all night
long. He hadn't slept for days, but sleep was a secondary need
compared to his need for sex! Voldemort touched Draco's leg under
the table and Draco blushed so visibly he was sure other people
noticed.

At length the meeting seemed finally to be drawing to a close and

many of the Death Eaters were leaving. Voldemort spoke to
Narcissa.

'You may leave Draco with me this evening, Narcissa.' He

commanded.
'Yes, my Lord.' Narcissa replied, her voice defeated and broken.
Draco looked up at her, hearing the sadness as she spoke, he took
her hand. Narcissa looked frightened. Draco had done this without
permission. She had not dared to ask to be allowed to bid her son
goodnight.

Voldemort simply looked away with a short sigh, wordlessly giving

his blessing to their goodbyes.

Trembling, Narcissa kissed the top of Draco's head, Draco squeezed

her hand and smiled. She left the room quickly, before the tears had
a chance to fill her eyes. In the entrance hall, most of the Death
Eaters ignored her. They did not have the same malice towards her
they had had towards Lucius, but few had the inclination to comfort
her. Only one, a young-ish, good looking man, who had a wife and a
young baby waiting for him at home, took the time to help Narcissa
on with her cloak and offer her a handkerchief to dry her eyes.
Chapter 23
Draco wished and wished they would all leave, but still 5 of them
lingered, these were clearly the Dark Lord's favourite and most
trusted followers, Severus among them. Draco had been aware of
him throughout the meeting, and had tried to ignore his presence
almost as determinedly as Severus had tried to ignore Draco's. They
gathered closer around Voldemort. Wormtail hovered, and Voldemort
snapped a command for him to bring wine. Draco supposed he
should feel honoured to be included in this small gathering, but he
still wished they would go away.

The Death Eaters crowded close. Taking the chair vacated by

Narcissa, was a grizzled man, Draco knew to be McNair, he worked
at the Ministry, or he had done once upon a time. Draco had met him
once when he visited the Ministry with his Father. McNair's breathing
was harsh and he leered uncomfortably close to Draco, who leant as
far away from him and towards Voldemort as he could. Draco
supposed he should be grateful that Aunty Bella was not in this
select group this evening, as the looks she had shot at him
throughout the meeting had been beyond hateful.

Wormtail bought the wine and poured drinks for everyone. The
conversation was less formal now, more scheming ideas than
concrete plans. The Death Eaters boasted about people they had
tricked, muggles they had tormented, and drank copiously, keeping
Wormtail busy pouring more wine for them.

Draco was frightened, and he hated the way McNair was staring at
him, occasionally licking his lips suggestively. Draco drank, hoping it
would make him less afraid. One man finished a graphic story of how
he had extracted information about the movements of the Order, by
using the cruciatus curse. McNair laughed heartily and leant so close
to Draco, that Draco could feel his breath. Draco shifted in his seat
towards Voldemort, who's hand was already on his thigh. McNair's
leering had not gone unnoticed by the Dark Lord.
Voldemort put his hand on Draco's shoulder.

'Come here, pet.' He drawled to Draco, and beckoned Draco to sit on

his knee. 'Come here, my friends are making you nervous.'

Voldemort's 'friends' did not know if they would be in trouble for

making his 'pet' nervous and they momentarily straightened up and
tried to look a bit less rowdy.

As much as Draco wanted to get further away from McNair, he was

not sure about the idea of sitting in Voldemort's lap in front of other
people, including Severus Snape. The suggestion was frankly
mortifying. But Draco did as he was told and climbed nervously onto
Voldemort's knee, there was no point trying to lie about the nature of
his 'relationship' with the Dark Lord.

Voldemort gripped him tightly, and his hands began to run

lecherously over Draco's body, and Draco flushed with shame.

'There, there, Draco.' Voldemort hissed. 'Don't be frightened!' He

spoke to his friends. 'Draco is a little bit shy.' He laughed. The Death
Eaters followed his lead. Draco, to prove he was not shy, wrapped
his arm around Voldemort's neck.

'Have some more wine Draco, it'll help you relax.' Voldemort insisted
with a chuckle.

Draco was fairly sure he'd had enough, but accepted anyway.

'You mustn't be shy in front of my friends, pet.' Voldemort continued.

'You know Severus already, don't you…?' Voldemort seemed to revel
in Snape's discomfort at seeing Draco like this. 'Severus looks after
you at school, doesn't he? And McNair here…' Voldemort glared at
him… 'McNair would very much like to 'look after you' I think, but he
knows if he so much as thinks about it any longer he will deeply
regret ever being born.'
Voldemort concluded with a sickly and sadistic smile, letting McNair,
and any of the others, that leering at Draco was one thing, but
leering with intent was quite another. Draco was Voldemort's pet.
Voldemort didn't tend to share. McNair followed orders and averted
his eyes immediately.

The wine hit Draco's senses like a sledgehammer, and he turned

towards Voldemort and buried his face in Voldemort's neck.
Voldemort continued stroking him and continued talking with his
friends. The drinking also continued also and the conversation
became freer and more lewd.

Impulsively Draco kissed Voldemort's neck. He had been desperate

to kiss him for so long, and now he had had just enough wine to do
it. He imagined it might go unnoticed, but within seconds Voldemort
had leant down and captured Draco's lips in a kiss. This was met
with some applauding and leery shouts from the others. Draco
flushed deeply, but he met the kiss so gratefully his enthusiasm was
clear to the onlookers.

'Your pet needs some attention, My Lord!' A short, broad shouldered

man remarked brusquely.

Voldemort laughed. 'Yes, my Draco is terribly demanding, really quite

insatiable. I am surprised he has behaved himself as long as he
has!'

'Perhaps we should leave you alone, my Lord.' Snape volunteered,

not wanting to have to look any longer at the way Voldemort groped
Draco so publicly while the humiliated boy clung to him, trying to hide
his face. Snape felt he had failed Draco so spectacularly, he should
have somehow done more to help him.

Draco was embarrassed, but almost drunk enough not to care, for it
to not quite feel real. He was still revelling in relief that Voldemort
wasn't bored of him and either killed or discarded him. He accepted
Voldemort's touch readily, but did not look at any of the others in the
room. If he didn't look at them it was like they weren't there…
Voldemort sensed Snape's comment was a plea to be allowed to
leave. He smiled cruelly.

'Oh, there's no reason for any of you to leave, Severus! I think Draco
is quite over his shyness now! I'm sure he will be happy to let you all
watch some of his tricks!'

Draco froze with terror. He had to do WHAT? Did Voldemort want

him to 'perform' in front of these other people? Draco didn't think he
could do that. Snape, his teacher, watching him! Draco wished he
had drunk more wine, a lot more wine.

Voldemort's comment had silenced the others too, as they were

unsure exactly what the Dark Lord had in mind. McNair would have
rather have been invited to take part, but the thought of watching,
well, it was better than nothing.

Voldemort had felt Draco tense as he spoke, but he knew tricks to

win Draco round. He had been Draco's lover for nearly a year, he
had trained Draco, he knew the things to do to make Draco play just
as he wanted. He could make Draco beg, make him scream, make
him come, as and when he pleased. He had complete power over
Draco. 'Because Draco adores me!' Voldemort told himself.

He bought his lips to meet those of the frightened boy, and kissed
him, biting at his lower lip first, gently running his tongue over
Draco's mouth before Draco parted his lips and let his tongue inside.
Draco moaned softly, whimpering as he began to submit to his
body's desires. He caressed Voldemort's chest, feeling his firm
muscles beneath his robes. As he shifted his body to get better
access to Voldemort's lips, he became aware of Voldemort's cock
growing hard under him. Draco ground himself against it, lust and
need over taking reason.

Voldemort lifted Draco off his lap and stood him in front of his throne-
like chair.
'Strip, Draco.' He commanded. He kept eye contact with Draco to try
and read any expression in his face. 'Is Draco scared? Is Draco
upset by this? Would I stop it if Draco was upset…? '

Draco took the eye contact as a challenge, and he stared back

defiantly, as he had done in the past when they had fought. Draco
was not brave by nature, but he was not one to back down either.
This, combined with his fragile self esteem, led to a kind of
recklessness. The kind that made him feel that if Voldemort was
trying to frighten him, he would not let him. And if he had to put on a
show, he would make damn sure it was a good one! Besides, his
pride told him that it was better to do things willingly if these others
were watching, rather than have them think he was being forced. If
they wanted to see him used against his will, he would not give them
the satisfaction.

Without averting his eyes, he slowly began to unfasten his shirt,

lingering over each button tantalisingly. He gently pushed it back
over his shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor, revealing his
perfect milky-white skin.

Voldemort smiled. Snape tried not to look. McNair drew a lustful,

deep breath.

Draco was able to slip his feet out of his shoes and socks easily and
receiving no other directions from Voldemort, he began to unfasten
his trousers. He let them fall and stepped out of them, never
breaking his insubordinate eye contact. He ran his hand through his
hair and coyly awaited instructions.

'Everything.' Voldemort said, looking at the tight fitting black

underwear Draco had yet to remove.

This was a game. It was a very personal game happening between

the two of them, and Draco responded almost as if the others were
not there. But they were there, and that was the nature of the game.
Voldemort would challenge Draco to see how far he would go in front
of others, and Draco, Draco would not easily forfeit the game. He did
not know what would happen if he did.

Despite the uncertainty as to what would happen if he refused,

Draco had some power, which he was becoming marginally aware
of. Voldemort had always regretted any time he had pushed Draco
too far, or hurt him in a way he did not enjoy. Despite all his cruelty,
Voldemort was rather addicted to being wanted and adored, by one
person he didn't have to force to adore him. He would regret any
game that pushed Draco away from him.

Draco flicked back his hair and pouted. He ran his hands down his
body slowly and bent down slightly as he removed his underwear.
He was a little skinnier than Voldemort remembered, 'Is he not eating
properly…?' But he had a beautiful body, lithe and toned and
perfectly pale all over. The 5 guests stared at the brazen boy,
showing no signs of being self conscious at being naked in a room
full of strangers. But then, he had no reason to be self conscious, he
was a stunning sight.

'Very nice!' Commented the broad man and McNair grunted similar
approval.

Voldemort had almost forgotten them as he drank in the glorious

sight of his little angel, naked before him, but then he remembered
the game and was keen to show off his treasure. He gave Draco a
sly smile.

'Don't be shy, Draco. Let them all have look at you.' He drawled. He
pictured in his head the bashful way that Draco would slowly turn to
face them, and then twist nervously as their eyes ran all over his
body…

But Draco did nothing of the sort. He glared back at Voldemort with
cunning, narrowed eyes. Draco turned and climbed up onto the long
table. He was on his knees and he faced his audience. He sighed
deeply as he ran both his hands through his hair and down over his
chest and stomach, suggestively close to his own semi-erect cock,
and down over his legs. He glanced playfully at the Dark Lord, who
looked somewhat taken aback. Draco smiled and continued his
display of shameless exhibitionism. He moved on all fours and
began to crawl slowly down the length of the table. He moved his
body erotically with an almost feline grace, arching and curving his
back as he moved, showing every curve of every muscle.

Once he had crawled past all of them, he lowered himself onto his
forearms and curved his back, stretching like a cat, presenting his
ass clearly to the room. He took his time over his movements, and
then turned round to face Voldemort. Just as slowly as before, he
crawled on his hands and knees back up the length of the table. He
kept eye contact with Voldemort the whole time, and seemed almost
not to notice the others around the table, as though this display was
for Voldemort and Voldemort alone.

'Fucking hell!' Breathed McNair. 'He really is asking for it!' He

grinned.

Draco took absolutely no notice. He reached the end of the table and
sat back on his knees in front of Voldemort, tilting his head and
looking at him questioningly. Seeking approval, the Death Eaters
thought, but perhaps between the two of them, it was simply 'What
else have you got…?'

'You brazen little whore!' Laughed Voldemort, and he stood up and

wrapped his arms around Draco, pulling him into a rough kiss. 'Now
get off than table, and get on your knees!' He snapped.

'Ah… OK. If that's what he wants, that easy!' Draco thought to

himself. 'I will be on the floor, I'll be out of sight. I can do that easily,
and I know I'm good at it…' Draco got down from the table and was
about to drop to his knees when McNair spoke up.

'I think you should fuck him, my Lord!' He called out.

'Yeah!' Said a skinny brown haired man. 'Don't let him off so easy!'
Voldemort was shocked that they had dared to make suggestions,
and how would Draco feel about this? He glanced at him.

Draco was mortified at the idea, or at least he knew he should be, if

he wasn't quite turned on by it. He raised one eyebrow at
Voldemort… 'Scared…?' He asked, wordlessly.

Voldemort realised suddenly that the tables had turned. He now felt
more trapped than Draco did. His followers were making demands,
they had expectations of him… But Draco, Oh! Draco! He had
expectations of him too. It had been 6 weeks since they had been
together, Voldemort wanted to savour Draco, take his time over
screwing him, to make it perfect for Draco. That was not what his
followers would be expecting to see. They probably wanted to see
him fuck Draco dry, see him hurt, see him used, humiliated and
tossed aside. Voldemort didn't want to do that to Draco, not really.
Would Draco understand? Would he know how to play?

Draco, however was playing his own game. He had sensed

Voldemort's hesitance, even if no one else had, and he planned to
reassure his lover. Voldemort was not getting out of this now, he had
started this game and Draco would make him finish it.

'Fuck me, Oh please, fuck me, my Lord!' Begged Draco in a wanton

tone.

Even McNair was shocked, he had not expected that. Snape felt a
mix of emotions, some shock, some disappointment, but mostly guilt.
Draco had been trained to be like this and no one had tried to stop it.

Voldemort was instantly delighted and somewhat relieved. Although

he felt he had been backed into a corner, Draco was certainly doing
his best to make it easier for him and he appreciated that.

'So demanding!' He smiled, running his long fingers over Draco's

torso, causing Draco to whimper as he moved his hands lower over
his hips. 'So impatient, pet! You can't wait till we are alone?' He
hissed playfully.
'No.' Whimpered Draco, almost tearfully, not sure if he was acting
any more or not. 'Need you now, my Lord. Please, fuck me now.'
Draco was, in all honesty, desperate for it, and if this was the only
way to get it, he would do whatever it took.

Voldemort's hand moved suddenly to Draco's erect cock. He cupped

him and pressed him firmly.

'You want me to take you, right here, in front of everyone, you kinky
slut?

'Yes, Yes! Oh Gods, yes!' Moaned Draco as he rutted into

Voldemort's fist. Voldemort would screw him, people would watch, he
would scream, he would cry, he would talk pure filth the whole time.
He would regret it in the morning, but now he was drunk and
delirious with lust. 'Fuck me now! On the table.' He added with a
growl.

Voldemort gripped Draco's hair roughly and pulled his head back
and spoke close to his ear, but loud enough for the others to hear.

'Say 'please', Draco!' He hissed.

'Please, my Lord, Oh please!' Draco responded. And with that,

Voldemort lifted him up and sat him on the edge of the table, working
his way between his legs. He took hold of Draco roughly and bit his
neck, sucking at him hard. Draco cried out in a mixture of pain and
pleasure as Voldemort's sharp teeth broke his skin.

When he pulled back, Draco's blood was visible on his pale lips and
Draco whimpered as the pain of the bite continued to flow through
his body. Voldemort brushed his mouth lightly over Draco's lips and
he trailed his hand down to Draco's cock and began to tug at him
roughly.

Draco's head leant back and he supported himself on his hands. He

arched his hips into Voldemort's touch and moaned as the Dark Lord
toyed with him.
'You want me, Draco?' Voldemort hissed at him.

'I want you!' Draco growled back at him. 'I want you inside me, I want
you, fucking me hard.'

'And you want everyone to watch, don't you, love?' Voldemort

prompted as he used his free hand to unfasten his own robes. 'You
want everyone to see what a good little whore you are.'

'Yes my Lord.' Draco gasped, so caught up in the pleasure

Voldemort was giving him he didn't even think to be ashamed.

'You beg for it like a desperate slut, Draco!' Voldemort retorted.

'I need you!' Whimpered Draco in response. 'I AM desperate for you.
Please! Take me! Fuck me like a bitch!'

Draco had always had a kink for dirty talk, it was one of the things
Voldemort liked best about him.

'Oh, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk in the
morning, you dirty little boy!' Voldemort hissed. Draco took this not
as a threat, but a promise.

'Gods, Yes!' He whimpered, he felt dangerously close to coming

already and his whole body shook.

'You going to come for me already, darling?' Voldemort growled,

somehow managing to make 'darling' sound more degrading than
'slut' or 'whore'.

Draco didn't manage a reply as Voldemort tugged his cock

aggressively he simply gasped and gave an incoherent cry as he
climaxed over Voldemort's hand.

Voldemort made sure to 'catch' as much of Draco's fluid as he could.

It was part of his plan. He surreptitiously reached for his own cock
and smeared Draco's fluid over his member, knowing a lubrication
charm would have been perceived as being 'too nice' to Draco. He
pushed the panting boy so that he lay back over the table top.

Draco obediently lifted his legs and placed his feet on the table.
Voldemort took hold of him and dragged him forcefully right up to the
edge of the table, pressing his cock to Draco's entrance. With a
violent thrust he breached him and Draco screamed and keened
upwards from the table top.

A couple of the death eaters gave a rowdy cheer.

'Give it to him, my Lord! The little slag needs putting in his place!'
McNair barked, with encouragement from the others. Except for
Snape, who sat stony faced, staring forward intently, as if he were
trying to stare right through what was happening and into another
dimension.

Draco felt tight. Very tight. And he sobbed and whimpered, there
were tears running down his face. Voldemort moved slowly, pulling
back and pushing gently into Draco. Draco's eyes were closed.
Voldemort wished he would open them. 'Does Draco hate this…?' he
wondered, knowing too well his followers were expecting him to
pound Draco hard from start to finish, even if Draco cried, screamed
and bled the whole time. 'Don't hate this, Draco… Don't hate me… I
have to…' He thought anxiously. He ran his hand over Draco's chest.

Voldemort's cold hand on his skin made Draco open his eyes and
look up at him. The force of the emotion that he read in the Dark
Lord's face made him draw breath. Voldemort was scared. Scared,
and he felt powerless. Draco had the power now. In this one moment
somehow he held all the cards. He relaxed his body as much as he
could, sighed deeply and gave Voldemort the smallest smile, and a
moan that sounded more like pleasure than pain.

As Voldemort pushed into him, Draco wrapped his legs around him
and gripped him tightly, encouraging him, letting him know it was
alright.
Relieved, Voldemort thrust into him hard, and hit Draco's prostate full
force. The pleasure that ripped through him caused most of the
lingering sense of pain to evaporate and Draco wanted that
sensation again.

Draco writhed and flung his hands down on the table beside him,
digging his nails into the surface as if trying to grip onto something.
Voldemort gripped his shoulders and forced him down hard onto his
cock.

'Aaaahh! Gods! Aaaaaahh!' Draco screamed, arching his back and

screwing his eyes tightly shut so that more tears ran down the sides
of his face. Aware of his audience, Draco's screams were louder and
more dramatic than ever before. The difference in them assuring
Voldemort that Draco's pain was, at least in part, theatrical.

The rowdy cheers and shouts from the death eaters continued and
although Voldemort focused mostly on Draco, he was also aware of
their audience, in particular, of Snape.

Snape did not cheer, he looked cold, he looked thoroughly unhappy.

Once, Voldemort had speculated that Snape had wanted Draco for
himself, as it was common knowledge that he had desperately lusted
after Lucius. Now, however, Snapes stare was judgemental, as
though he seemed to be taking a perverse pride in the fact that he
had resisted Draco. There was a gloating superiority about him
which angered Voldemort. Snapes sense of honour at having
resisted taking advantage of Draco was becoming clear, Voldemort
wanted to break his resolve. After all, how DARE he judge? And how
dare he resist Draco?

Voldemort pulled out of Draco and reached for his wand. He

conjured a blanket in the centre of the long table.

'Get on your knees.' He barked at Draco who scampered to the

middle of the table and knelt on the cloth.
Voldemort appeared behind him and roughly pushed him onto all
fours. He took hold of his hips and thrust into him.

'You want it like a bitch, do you Draco?' He hissed.

'Fuck, yes!' Draco gasped. 'I'm your dirty bitch, your filthy little fuck-
toy, Oh, Gods! I need you to screw me, fuck me hard until I cry!'

'You have a filthy mouth this evening, baby!' Voldemort drawled,

whilst slamming Draco roughly from behind, thinking perhaps an
audience bought out a side of Draco he could get to like…

Voldemort slowed his thrusts and his eyes fell on Severus. He gave
a vindictive smile.

'Not enjoying the show, Severus?' He hissed cruelly.

Snapes discomfort had been noticed by Draco too, who in his

drunken state had begun to harbour feelings of resentment towards
Snape. He's been drunk with Snape once, hadn't he? Snape had
undressed him, he remembered it now. Undressed him and then
rejected him! But he could feel Snapes lust for him, he could feel
Snape battle with his own desire. 'How dare he turn me down!'
Thought Draco. 'He thinks he's too good for me, I'll get him!'

Draco looked up at Snape with dangerously needy eyes.

'Of course, my Lord.' Snape stammered in response, his eyes locked

with Draco's as he watched the disgraced teenager being fucked,
and fought with every emotion he had.

'Perhaps you are a little jealous?' Voldemort spat at him. 'He looks a
bit like Lucius, after all!'

Several of the audience roared with laughter as Snapes cheeks

flushed crimson.

Voldemort grabbed Draco's hair and pulled him upright and spoke
into his ear, loudly enough for the others to hear.
'Poor old Severus was desperate to fuck your father once upon a
time, Draco. He never had the nerve to act on it.'

Draco's eyes widened at this revelation and he smiled between his

gasps for breath.

'Should we let him come and play with us, honey?' Voldemort
continued, drawing a cheer from the audience.

Drunk, and caught up in the moment, Draco simply replied.

'If it would please you, Master.'

Snape felt sick as Voldemort commanded him to join them on the

table. He knelt, facing Draco, who held him in a merciless,
unrelenting stare.

'Do you like the look of my pet, Severus?' Voldemort asked coolly.

'Yes, my Lord.' Snape replied. What other answer could he give?

'I know he liked the look of you, once, didn't you Draco?' Voldemort
continued.

'I did, once.' Draco replied.

'Of course, you are MINE now, but before I took you, you used to
hope that Severus would take you, didn't you?' Voldemort hissed,
tauntingly, although it was Snape he aimed to torment, not Draco,
and Draco knew this. They worked together. In fact, they made quite
a team, reading the situation perfectly. Snape was ashamed that he
lusted after Draco, and distressed that the boy was being used in
this way. Draco looked for replies and responses which perfectly
mixed depravity and innocence, brazenness and shame.

He sobbed, 'Yes. I wanted him, when I was 13, I hoped he would

fuck me. I hoped he would keep me on detention at school and fuck
me. I would have done anything he wanted…'
Snapes eyes widened in horror.

'But he ignored you, didn't he, love?' Voldemort continued.

'Yes, he always ignored me.' Draco answered. 'He didn't want me.'

'Oh, but he did!' Said Voldemort cruelly. 'He wanted to fuck you,
probably since your first year, if not before! But he's a very moral
man, aren't you Severus?' Voldemort did not wait for a reply. 'But
now you see how upset poor Draco was, you made him feel
unwanted.'

Snape made no reply.

'Tell him you are sorry.' Voldemort commanded.

'I'm sorry Draco.' Snape whispered, the words meaning a thousand

different things at once.

' Show him you are sorry.' Voldemort snapped, pushing Draco
towards Snape.

If Snape were not as strong a man as he was, he might have had

tears in his eyes as Draco reached out for him and he, in turn placed
his hands on Draco's bare arms and lightly held him.

Draco glanced at Voldemort, whose wicked grin told him to continue.

Draco reached up and lightly caught Snapes lips in the softest of
kisses. He paused for a second before continuing, and it was no
great surprise when Snape responded.

What else could he do? He wrapped his arms around Draco in what
was a far too genuinely protective embrace, and softly responded to
Draco's gently kiss. He slipped his tongue between his lips and oh
so affectionately worked his mouth against his. Was this the only
way he could show Draco kindness now, by offering him a moment
of gentle touch…?
Although truly of tender intention, Snape couldn't fight the desire
within him as he felt Draco's naked body against him. One hand
crept lower, down the sensuous curve of his back… Draco thrust
himself against the growing firmness at the front of Snapes robes.
Draco snuck his hand down to Snapes erection and began to fondle
him though his clothes. Snape gave a groaning sigh, wanting and
not wanting this in equal amounts.

Draco broke out of the kiss and turned playfully to Voldemort.

'He wants me now.' He said with a wicked smile.

'Well, he's too late!' Laughed Voldemort, reaching out and pulling
Draco back to him, leaving Snape with a terribly conspicuous bulge
showing at his crotch. Several people laughed.

'Draco is MINE now, Severus, and no one gets to have him, but me!'

Draco clung to Voldemort tightly.

'But Severus has been good to you, sometimes, hasn't he, pet?'
Voldemort addressed Draco who nodded in response.

'Perhaps we can be kind to him, just this once.' Voldemort continued.

He pushed Draco roughly down onto all fours again. 'Put that filthy
mouth of yours to good use, Draco. You have been far too noisy this
evening already!'

Snape trembled with shame as Draco reached for his cock. He

unfastened his robes and took hold of Snapes achingly hard
member. As Draco lowered his sweet lips to the head, Snape
thought his world might implode as he wished to the Gods that this
didn't feel so devastatingly good. He could have maybe lived with
himself more easily afterwards if he hadn't felt his lust go through the
roof when Voldemort took hold of Draco's pale hips and thrust inside
him again.
Draco's strangled yelp sent vibrations through Snapes cock and he
gave an audible cry, Voldemort hissed with satisfaction. This was a
battle between him and Snape, and he was winning. Snape was
about to cave in to his desires and then he could never wear that self
righteous look on his face ever again!

Draco, even in his drunken delirium, was somewhat overwhelmed

now at the sensations he was experiencing. He had never imagined
this, and Gods, it was desperately hot. He wanted to break Snape,
because, Voldemort was right, he had wanted him. He wanted
Snape to want him in return. Draco wanted more than anything, for
Snape to fuck his face as hard as Voldemort would fuck his ass. He
couldn't think of anything better than this!

He looked up into Snapes face, with his 'frightened eyes' look, and
Snape finally gave in. He roughly took hold of a handful of Draco's
fair hair and began to thrust hard into his mouth, suddenly forcing
Draco to deep throat him, almost causing him to choke.

Voldemort gave a satisfied laugh, and began to pound Draco's ass

harder than ever, gripping his hips tightly, bruising him and cutting
him with his sharp nails.

As the two men pounded him, Draco felt all the blood in his body
rush to his cock, which hung hard and heavy between his legs. He
would have given anything to touch himself, but needed both his
hands to keep upright!

'He's hard as a rock!' A rough voice observed. Draco felt his desire
multiply as he remembered he was being watched.

'What a filthy slut! If only his father knew! I wonder if he'd be proud to
have raised such a fucking whore?' McNair laughed.

Draco tensed. This was too much, far too much… In a good way,
and a bad way. Voldemort hammered his prostate hard from behind
and Snapes cock filled his mouth… Suddenly his own cock jumped
and twitched as his body convulsed and he came hard over the
blanket beneath him.

Voldemort was moments behind him, and Snape too. In seconds

they were filling him with their come, Voldemort pumping deep into
his ass and Snape shooting straight down his throat.

They pulled out of him and Draco collapsed forward onto the blanket,
trembling in the wake of his climax.

Voldemort recovered himself first.

'Did you enjoy my little pet, Severus?' He barked.

'Yes, my Lord. Thank you.' Snape replied, trying to sound grateful

and trying to hide the shame and guilt that his voice betrayed.

Voldemort laughed as Snape climbed down from the table. Draco

remained still on the blanket.

'The show is over for this evening.' He announced coolly, desperate

to mask his concern for Draco. The lust and adrenalin fading quickly,
the concerns that he may have gone too far crept back over him.

Wormtail began to show everyone out and once the room had
cleared, Voldemort turned his attention to the unmoving Draco.
Chapter 24
One arm around Draco's shoulders, Voldemort ushered him down a
long corridor. Draco, wrapped in the blanket, tripping over the ends
of it now and then, did not know where Voldemort was taking him.
Small trickles of blood ran down Draco's legs, Voldemort had been
far too rough with him. They reached a large door which Voldemort
flung open and stepped inside, dragging Draco with him.

With a flick of his wand, Voldemort lit candles around the room and
Draco knew at once where he was. This was the room with the big
black four poster bed, he had never been able to place the room in
the context of a building before.

Voldemort picked Draco up in his arms and carried him to the bed
placing him down gently, before going to a tall cupboard at the far
end of the room and returning with a small vial of potion. He pulled
out the stopper and handed it to Draco.

'Drink it.' He whispered.

Draco didn't recognise the potion and in a moment of pure trust he

swallowed it without enquiring what it was. The minute he did he
realised how foolish this could have been and waited for some
dreadful effect to seize him. None came however. It was a healing
potion, one he had not met before. It was very strong, probably
designed for treating internal injuries. Draco swooned slightly as it
took effect.

Voldemort's hand was on his hair and he watched anxiously as the

potion worked it's magic. Draco looked up at him, wide eyed.
Voldemort dropped down beside him on the bed and took Draco in
his arms, burying his face in Draco's hair, his breathing ragged. He
didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Draco ran his hands up and down Voldemort's back and gripped him
tightly and there they sat for some time before Draco finally said,

'Can we sleep now?'

Voldemort wanted to reply but couldn't manage words and simply

nodded and the two of them climbed under the blankets together.

They slept for a couple of hours before Draco awoke, and reached
for his lover, desires other than sleep motivating him. His gentle
touch woke Voldemort and in the darkness of the room they shared
the type of reunion Voldemort had wanted to share with Draco. A
passionate, all consuming fire fuelled their love making and in the
throes of desire they whispered words to each other they would not
have dared to speak in the cold light of day.

The professed to have missed each other. Draco asked why

Voldemort had not seen him for so long. Voldemort answered 'to
keep you safe.' Draco asked 'from what? ' Voldemort replied 'from
me.'

A secret intimacy and honesty underpinned this encounter. Draco

remembered the day they had spent in the Shrieking Shack. This
night time episode was a shared confidence between the two of
them, which played out in a way no one would expect. Locked away
from the world and the people who knew them, they both could be as
they never were at any other time and indulge feelings and desires
they kept hidden.

Draco realised for the first time, that no one can ever understand a
relationship, except for the people in it. No one would understand
this, not even if he tried to explain it to them. He could hardly
articulate it anyway. Something about his 'relationship' with
Voldemort, as bizarre, as abusive, as unbalanced as it had been,
something about it was 'real' and mutual. Voldemort had coerced him
into doing things he would not have readily done, things he would be
ashamed if others knew about. Voldemort had made him be a
different person when they were together than he was at any other
time, made him show a side of himself he had not known existed. At
the start Draco had been scared that he had lost all his power, then
he came to crave the powerlessness. Now he realised he had a
power that no one could understand. He had felt vulnerable,
exposed and like Voldemort had power over him as he held all of his
secrets in his hands. Draco had believed it was one sided, but this
evening he had realised it was not. He held Voldemort's secrets in
his hands too. He knew what no one else did. That Voldemort did not
want to hurt him, that he had been sorry. That he wanted to be loved.
That he wanted a companion who wanted him. That there was a
grain of humanity left in him, however misguidedly it might express
itself.

Draco slept in Voldemort's arms after they made love and he awoke
as the early light of dawn began to creep into the room. He opened
his eyes and saw Voldemort gazing down at him, wide awake,
watching him. Draco frowned, and self-consciously rearranged his
hair.

Voldemort had been watching Draco sleep for some time. Draco had
looked so peaceful and so innocent laying there, sleeping in his
arms. He looked so content, far from how he had looked the first
time he had slept in that bed. Voldemort wondered how it was
possible to have such strong feelings for someone when you had
only one 7th of a tattered soul remaining. He wondered if Draco
understood how much this meant, if Draco realised how special he
was? Draco was just damaged enough that Voldemort could connect
with him, but just pure enough that his affection felt almost like
redemption. 'It was never meant to be like this!'

'I'm sorry, Draco.' Voldemort said instantly. 'I didn't mean to wake
you.'

'You didn't.' Draco replied. 'Were you watching me?'

'Yes.' Said Voldemort quietly. 'I was watching you sleep, I'm sorry.'
'It's ok.' Draco whispered. 'I don't mind.' He yawned, turned over and
fell back to sleep, seemingly completely relaxed about being
watched over by Voldemort.

Voldemort continued to watch him and he knew then, that he never

wanted Draco to change. Never wanted him to lose that innocence.
For yes, he was still innocent. Voldemort knew, 'sex' does not make
a person lose their innocence, as many believe. Only killing did that.
Draco must never kill, not for Voldemort, not for anyone. He must
stay just how he is. Fragile, tainted, insecure, falsely confident,
defensive, vulnerable and innocent. Innocent.

It was well into the afternoon when Draco awoke again, alone this
time. The room was light and not nearly as intimidating as it looked
in the night time. His clothes had been placed on the end of the bed.

Draco had never been alone in this room before, he didn't quite
know what to do. Voldemort had once said he didn't want Draco to
come here if he wasn't there too, as it might not be safe… Draco
ached all over and wondered if he was allowed to take a shower? He
decided it would probably be alright and he took his pile of clothes
and headed to the bathroom. Safely locked inside he checked the
pockets of his trousers and was relieved to find the vial of poison
was still there, undiscovered, though he no longer had immediate
plans to take it.

He showered quickly and dressed feeling refreshed and happier than

he had for some time. But he was anxious too. Where was
Voldemort?

Feeling brave, and having some knowledge of the rooms location

now, he decided to go and look for the Dark Lord. Tentatively, he
opened the bedroom door and ventured out into the corridor, his
hand firmly on his wand, just in case. Nervously, he crept down the
corridor towards the room where the fateful meeting had taken place
last night. 'Will he be angry that I am creeping about the house? Are
there Death Eaters here?' Draco wondered to himself and he tip toed
softly on the wooden floor.
Peering uneasily into the meeting room, he saw the unmistakable
figure of Voldemort, sitting in the throne-like chair, studying a
document which lay on the table. Wormtail was scurrying around the
room and his beady eye fell upon Draco and he stopped still.

'It seems your guest is finally awake, my Lord.' He said dryly and
Voldemort turned instantly to look at Draco who was peeking round
the door frame.

'Draco! Awake at last!' Said Voldemort with a smile, and he extended

his hands to Draco, who hurried over to him. Voldemort pulled Draco
into his lap.

Remembering the previous evening, Draco hid his face against

Voldemort's neck in shame, knowing Wormtail had witnessed the
scene that unfolded the last time he sat in Voldemort's lap in this
chair.

Voldemort seemed to sense Draco's embarrassment and snapped at

Wormtail.

'Go and get Draco some tea, Wormtail. And some breakfast too,
even though it's after lunch time.' He added with a smile.

'Yes my Lord. Of course, at once my Lord.' Wormtail replied and left

the room, muttering under his breath. Something about ' we must
feed your 'pet' mustn't we…'

Draco scowled.

'You can hex him once he has bought your breakfast, if you want to,
love.' Voldemort said, kissing Draco's still wet hair. 'Or I will do it later
if you prefer.' He offered.

Draco didn't know what to say, but he really did want to hex that
rotten man who wanted nothing more that to intimidate him. He
smiled at Voldemort.
'Maybe just a little stinging hex…' Draco grinned.

Voldemort grinned too. He liked this side of Draco. Sadistic, but only
playfully so. He didn't think Draco would be up to casting a cruciatus
curse, but he would enjoy seeing Draco throw a little hex at
Wormtail. Voldemort liked Draco's childish aggressive outbursts, he
thought about the times when they had fought with each other. It was
fun. Voldemort folded up the parchment he had been studying and
lay his wand on the table.

Wormtail returned with a tray of tea and some cake. He placed it in

front of Draco with a sickly and vindictive smile.

'Breakfast, Master Malfoy.' He drawled sarcastically, looking at Draco

contemptuously.

As Wormtail walked away Draco reached for his wand.

'Use mine.' Voldemort whispered in Draco's ear, handing him his

white, skeletal wand.

Draco's eyes widened and he gripped the wand in his hand, not
quite sure how to handle it. Voldemort guided his hand gently and
Draco flicked the wand at Wormtail shooting a stinging hex at the
back of his legs.

Although Draco had only flicked the wand gently, the force of the hex
knocked Wormtail off his feet and Draco was shocked at the power
of it.

Scrabbling to his feet again, Wormtail looked shocked and angry as

he turned to see Draco, guided by Voldemort, wand raised. He
opened his mouth, but did not dare speak.

'He's only playing, Wormtail!' Voldemort grinned cruelly. 'Leave us

now, and don't come back till I send for you.'
'Yes, my Lord.' Said Wormtail, leaving the room feeling cross and
dejected.

Voldemort laughed as he left and Draco laughed too, feeling a little

delirious. There was something strangely intimate about using
someone else's wand, and the power if it had been awe inspiring.

Draco drank his tea and ate a little of the cake, but Voldemort had
been casting strange spells into the room, practicing spells that
Draco did not recognise, and this was far more interesting than
breakfast. Draco watched him intently.

Voldemort lowered his wand.

'Draco.' he said sincerely. 'There is someone I would like you to

meet.'

Draco's eye's widened.

'OK.' He said in a curious voice and he went to Voldemort's side.

Voldemort put one arm around Draco's waist and held him, quite
tightly before he began to speak. For a moment Draco was
confused, Voldemort was saying words, or making sounds, that he
didn't understand. It was a few seconds before he realised it was
parseltounge. This realisation should have given him a clue about
what was to follow but still he jumped with fright when an enormous
snake slithered into the room and approached the Dark Lord.
Voldemort tightened his grip on Draco, either to reassure him, or
prevent him from running away.

The snake raised its head and waited before Voldemort, it's forked
tongue darting from its mouth from time to time, eyeing Draco.

'Draco, this is Nagini.' Voldemort smiled and he reached forward to

stroke the snakes head. 'Nagini, this is Draco Malfoy.'
Nagini slid towards Draco. Draco who actually really quite liked
snakes, was a little scared as Nagini was probably big enough to
swallow him whole. He dropped to his knees, to be level with
Nagini's head. Cautiously he extended his hand towards her.
Nagini's tongue darted over it, Draco knew this meant she was
'smelling' him. Only once she had done so and moved nearer to him,
did Draco begin stroke her.

Voldemort smiled with delight as Draco petted Nagini's scales.

She felt beautiful and silky smooth under Draco's fingers and she
leant into his touch. Draco was not sure if snakes liked to be stroked
and petted like a cat or a dog, but Nagini welcomed his attention.
She slid right up to him and began to coil around him. Draco felt a
wave of fear, was she going to crush him…? But she was gentle in
her embrace and she placed her face next to Draco's and her tongue
darted over his neck.

It tickled and Draco giggled. Voldemort smiled, and realised that he

was doing rather a lot of that today.

'OK, Nagini, don't kiss him too much!'

Draco giggled again.

'She certainly likes you!' Voldemort said to Draco.

'She's lovely.' Draco whispered. Despite his 'care of magical

creatures' classes, Draco really did like animals and he had never
been allowed a pet.

'She is very important to me.' Voldemort told him, and he stroked

Nagini as she released Draco. 'I am glad you like her.'
Chapter 25
Draco returned home via the port-key later that afternoon, landing in
his own bedroom at the manor feeling lighter and less anxious than
he could remember feeling for a very long time. It still was wrong,
this 'thing' with the Dark Lord, but he felt less like he was just a toy
that would be cast aside, and more like there was a real chance that
this 'thing', whatever it was, meant something to Voldemort too. This
was a strange idea and he mulled it over in his head.

Suddenly his conscience prickled him. He should look for his mother.
She would have returned here alone last night and he needed to
comfort her in his father's absence. Making every effort not to think
about the events of the night before, he ventured downstairs to find
her, hoping to the Gods that Aunty Bella wasn't there too!

She wasn't. He was in luck. He found Narcissa sitting alone in the

drawing room.

He pushed the door open and crept in almost silently. The room was
in near darkness as the curtains were pulled, despite it being a
gloriously sunny day.

Narcissa sat with her back to the door, her hand resting on a small
table, clutching a glass containing a liquid Draco did not recognise,
the bottle of which was on the table also. She did not move. Draco
had opened the door so quietly Narcissa had not heard him.

'Mother…?' He said gently.

Narcissa jumped and spun round in her chair. She had been crying,
her face was red and lined with tear stains. Draco was almost used
to seeing her like that these days, since Lucius's arrest.

'Draco!' She cried and stood up, grabbing onto the chair to steady
herself as she swayed a little.
Draco ran to her and encouraged her to sit back down. He knelt
beside her holding her hands. The smell of drink on her breath was
overwhelming!

'When…' She began, then thought for a moment and changed her
question. 'How did you get back here?'

'Umm… I err, have a port-key.' Said Draco uncomfortably, feeling this

was leading to a conversation he really did not want to have with his
mother!

'You have a port-key?' She echoed almost in disbelief.

'Yes.' Draco confessed. ' He gave it to me. It takes me to the house

where we were last night.'

'My poor baby!' Narcissa wailed and began to sob violently. Drinking
didn't suit her at the best of times.

Draco flung his arms around his mother, actually relieved that she
was as drunk as she was. It would make the next part of this
conversation mildly less excruciating.

'It's not…' He began, then paused. 'He's not… He's usually not
'unkind' to me…' He stopped. There was no right way to say this,
especially not to his mother! He would never have wanted to discuss
his sex life with his mother under any circumstances, surely no one
would! And there was certainly no acceptable way to tell her that,
yes, he was being fucked by the Dark Lord, but he really was ok and
actually quite enjoyed it.

No, she certainly didn't need to hear that!

'He doesn't really hurt me.' He decided was more than enough
information.

The shock seemed to break Narcissa out of her convulsive crying.

'When did it start?' She asked. Draco froze.

'It doesn't matter, does it?' He almost snapped. 'The point is, I'm ok
and you don't need to worry about me!' 'Please Gods, don't ask me
any questions…'

'The time he saw you in the study…' Narcissa continued. 'He

touched you then, didn't he? You were only just 15…' She began to
sob again.

All of Draco's feelings of lightness began to evaporate. THIS was the

consequence of his actions, it seemed, having to deal with the
devastation he had bought to his mother.

'He kissed me then.' Draco said, trying to remain as calm as

possible. 'He was trying to seduce me. 'The first time was the night
he came and took me away with him, and yes, I was 15, but, he took
care of me…' Draco paused. 'It's not like you are imagining. I am ok.'
He touched her face and looked imploringly into her eyes. ' Please,
don't ask me to talk about it.'

Narcissa nodded. She didn't want more information, more details, of

course she didn't. She was far from convinced that Draco wasn't
simply lying to comfort her, but this was the only comfort she was
going to get, and she would take it.

'You look like to need to sleep.' Observed Draco.

'Yes, probably.' Narcissa confessed. 'I'm sorry darling, I shouldn't

have let myself get like this…' She gestured towards the bottle of
liquor.

Draco gave her an understanding smile.

'It's ok.' He said and helped her to stand up. 'Let me help you
upstairs.' He offered.

'It should me be looking after you, Draco.' Narcissa said softly as her
son helped her up the stairs and sat her down on her luxurious bed.
Draco pulled back the covers and helped her to get underneath.

'We can look after each other.' He whispered, laying the blankets
gently over her.

'My lovely little dragon…' She whispered as she fell into a deep
sleep.

Draco returned to the drawing room and drank several glasses of the
unknown liquor himself, before returning to check on his mother. She
was sound asleep and he decided to sit beside her, just for a
moment… within minutes he was asleep at her side.

Narcissa woke hours later and saw him there. She wrapped a
protective arm around him and prayed to whoever may be listening
that at least for tonight, her son would not be taken away from her.
Her prayers were answered, it seemed, as Draco was still there in
the morning. They took morning tea together and then walked in the
garden, blessed as they were with the gift that is given to most
aristocrats: The ability to pretend that all is well even when the world
feels like it is falling apart.
Chapter 26
Days later, Draco sat alone in the large black bed, possibly a little
drunk from the evening before, as Voldemort never said 'no' to Draco
when he wanted wine or Fire Whiskey. It was now half way through
the summer holidays and Draco had spent a good deal of time in this
strange, dark house with Voldemort .

The death eaters considered him Voldemort's 'pet' and were

accustomed to his presence, although he attended very few
meetings. They thought of Draco as nothing more than Voldemort's
play thing, a little toy he kept for his own enjoyment. Generally, they
had no respect for Draco, but no particular dislike of him either. And
they would no sooner harm him than they would any of Voldemort's
possessions! The situation was not as amusing to them without
Lucius around to taunt about it, and Narcissa looked so downtrodden
and broken these days it was hard to get a rise out of taunting her.
So, believing him fairly insignificant, they ignored Draco's presence.
At least, most of them did.

'He'll get bored of you soon, you know.'

A sharp, rasping voice broke through Draco's daydream and he

jumped. Wormtail was standing at the foot of the bed, looking
relaxed but with a spiteful look in his eye. Voldemort must not be
nearby, Draco thought, or else Wormtail would not be behaving this
way!

'How dare you speak to me!' Retorted Draco, composing himself

after his shock. Wormtail simply laughed.

Wormtail, for all his faults, was not a stupid man. And as Voldemort's
servant he was privy to information others were not. Fairly early on,
he had realised that Draco was something of a 'favourite' of the Dark
Lord, and he felt jealous, although not of the sexual aspect! He
though Draco must be offering himself in that way to gain status and
power, the vile little slut. As time had moved on, he had noticed
Voldemort's protectiveness of Draco, he noticed that Voldemort
almost seemed to care for him, and it might not be long before this
manipulative little boy-whore realised that he had power over the
Dark Lord. Wormtail had not worked hard to ingratiate himself to
Voldemort only to have to try to do the same for that jumped up
Malfoy brat! He wanted Draco cast aside, out of the picture, out of
the way, so that he would be the most trusted again. He also wanted
to hurt Draco, as a payback for the stinging hex, and other
humiliations.

Wormtail shook his head slowly and a cruel smile spread over his
lips.

'Poor stupid boy!' He laughed. 'You're not the first, you know. And
you won't be the last either.'

Draco flinched internally, this was something he wondered about. He

glared at Wormtail, determined not to rise to him. Draco knew a thing
or two about bullying, after all. He would not give Wormtail the
emotional reaction he was after!

'I'll tell him you have been bothering me.' Draco threatened. Wormtail
stiffened a little, as that would mean bad things for him, but this rare
opportunity to catch 'the pet' alone was his one chance to get this
situation under his control, so he took a calculated risk.

'There have been others.' He continued. 'Even since you came

along. You are away at school a long time, aren't you…?' He half
whispered.

Draco's stomach convulsed as if Wormtail had just stuck a knife in

his gut. He employed all his skill to keep his emotions from showing
on the surface. Although a private battle inside his head was raging,
he simply said,

'Get out, Wormtail.' As though he had given Wormtails last comment

no thought at all, when really it was tearing him apart inside as he
wondered 'Who…? When…? One of the death eaters?… Someone
from school…?'

Unsure whether his comment had hurt Draco in the way he intended,
Wormtail decided to employ another tactic, which was really his plan
all along.

It hadn't take much deduction to work out that Voldemort's special

treatment of Draco was due to the fact that Draco was different from
the others. Draco was not a fighter, he was not a killer. Everyone
who was drawn to the Dark Lord was cruel and damaged, they had a
hardened ugliness about them, they wanted to hurt, to kill, they
would lie, cheat, they stayed loyal only through fear. Draco had some
of these qualities, but 'damaged' though he was, he was not as they
were. Just as Voldemort still had a shred of his soul, Draco still had a
shred of his innocence. It marked him out as different from the
others, it made him special. If only he could be tricked into losing it…

Wormtail couldn't trick Draco by just trying to hurt him, nor would that
convince Draco not to tell Voldemort about their conversation, but if
he offered Draco something 'useful'…

'You're not the only one.' Wormtail said. 'But you are certainly the
favourite.'

'Oh…?' Draco reacted before he had a chance to check himself.

'Got you!' Thought Wormtail, hiding his cruel intentions behind a well
practiced, simpering smile.

'Oh, yes!' He continued, in a tone which could almost have been

described as sincere. 'There have been far less since you came
along, he favours you, I know it.'

'Really.' Said Draco flatly, sounding disinterested, but it was too late,
he had betrayed his emotions and Wormtail knew he had him.
'The others don't spend the whole night here, and they certainly don't
receive gifts!' Wormtail elaborated. 'Yes, I would say the Dark Lord
has high hopes for you!'

Draco frowned. 'High hopes?' He echoed, curious against his will.

'Certainly.' Smiled Wormtail. 'Play your cards right and I think you will
do very well for yourself. And why shouldn't you?' He continued,
barley managing to conceal the hatred in his voice. 'You have won
him over with your pretty face and 'obliging' nature…' 'When some of
us had to live as a pet rat for 12 years and then cut off a hand to get
less than a tenth of the privileges given to this doe-eyed whore who
does nothing more than moan and scream at the right moments!'
'You just need to prove your loyalty to him and I'd say you would
secure a very nice future for yourself!'

'Why would you tell me this?' Draco asked, confrontationally.

'I don't dislike you, Draco.' Wormtail assured him. 'In fact, I'd rather
serve you than any of the others. You are a clever boy, from a good
family. When this war is won, you are the right sort to be at the Dark
Lords side.'

'At his side…?' Though Draco, remembering words Voldemort had

once said 'It won't always be like this, I will be in power and there will
be no more hiding…' Was that what Draco wanted? If Voldemort
came to power, what would the other options look like? Slavery?
Fighting? Once again, this wasn't about what Draco wanted, it was
about security, it was about staying unhurt, it was about staying
alive.

'Assuming for one moment you are not lying…' Draco said, not
wanting to let Wormtail be sure if he was buying into this
conversation or not. 'How would you, in your infinite knowledge,
suggest I 'prove myself'?'

Draco's tone was a touch sarcastic, but Wormtail was satisfied that
he had cornered him. Wormtail sat on the bed and leant close to
Draco and spoke in a whisper.

'The Dark Lord has a lot of enemies, Draco.' He said softly. 'You
have access to them…'

'You mean, Potter?' Draco began.

'No.' Wormtail said. 'Potter is complicated, the Dark Lord needs him
alive.'

'Alive?!' Echoed Draco, as it began to dawn on him just exactly what

Wormtail was about to suggest.

'But take, for example, Albus Dumbledore.' Wormtail smiled. Draco's

eyes widened in horror.

'He's an old man, Draco. A frail old man. You see him every day at
school. Imagine if you could get rid of him! He has been a thorn in
the side of the Dark Lord for so long, I can't imagine how grateful he
would be to the one who dispatches him!'

'Don't talk rubbish!' Snapped Draco. 'If he's just a frail old man, then
what difference would it really make if I kill him or not?' For all his
dislike of Dumbledore, Draco was not naive enough to believe for
one minute that he was simply a 'frail old man'. Wormtail was
probably suggesting Draco try this so that he would fail and end up
dead, or in Azkaban.

'It would be a grand gesture.' Said Wormtail. 'And of course there

would be other implications…'

'What do you mean?' Asked Draco.

'You kill Dumbledore, and you will never be able to go back to that
school again, will you?' Wormtail smiled. 'You'll be here, all the time.
The Dark Lord will have no need for the others if he has you here all
the time. There would be no danger that someone else would take
your place if you are here to guard it.'
Draco frowned.

'Anyway.' Said Wormtail, standing up. 'It's entirely up to you, of

course. You are a smart boy. I'd hate to see you suffer the same fate
as the last one.'

'What was that?' Draco asked before he could stop himself.

'He was given to the death eaters, passed around, shared…

Sometimes for sex and sometimes just to be tortured, depending on
who had him and what pleased them. Bellatrix always enjoys the
chance to practice the torture curse, and of course, McNair and
Grayback had a particularly good time abusing him. Eventually,
when he was too physically damaged to be of any use to anyone, he
was handed over to the dementors for their amusement. Finally, they
gave him the kiss and, well, I guess he died in the end… But the light
had faded from his eyes long before the dementors got their hands
on him…' Wormtail paused, staring into the distance for a moment,
for dramatic effect. 'But he wasn't clever like you, Draco. He could
never have been useful to the Dark Lord beyond his body. I'm sure
you can make the right decision.'

With that, Wormtail left the room, congratulating himself on the

perfect delivery of a well rehearsed speech.

The night that Draco had attended the meeting with his mother,
Wormtail had found the vial of poison in Draco's pocket when he had
bought his clothes from the dining room to the bedroom. He had
correctly guessed its purpose and had woven the perfect story to
play on all of Draco's fears. 'Of course, if I can be the one who gets
that spoilt brat out of the picture, I can not only get back into the Dark
Lords favour, but it won't do any harm in impressing the magnificent
Bellatrix either!' He thought to himself happily. 'Impress her enough
and eventually she will realise that her affections towards the Dark
Lord are in vain, and she is bound to notice my dedication and
intelligence…' He smiled a revolting smile.
Back in the bedroom, Draco sat shaking with fear. His head already
foggy from alcohol, he battled this new information into logical order
in his mind.

'It's probably all lies, Wormtail hates me, I'm not stupid, I know he
does!' Draco rationalised. 'But what if it's true… about the other boy?
And I'm not the only one he sees… What if that's true?' The pain of
that revelation was enough to draw agonised sobs from the
distraught Draco. The thought that Voldemort had been with
someone else the way he was with him cut him like a knife. Add to
that the fear that this unknown 'other' might take Draco's place as
favourite, and the thought of the fate he might suffer if this
happened, began to tear Draco apart.

'It can't be true!' Draco whispered, his voice shaking. What about the
night they had been together after the meeting? The way Voldemort
had carried him, healed him, held him, made love to him, watched
him sleep…? He had known then that they kept each other's secrets,
that something in this mess in which he found himself was real.
Something that was just between them, something no one else knew
about. He hadn't imagined it, he was sure!

But the thought that there were others! Oh! The thought of Voldemort
kissing someone else, touching them the way he touched Draco…
The thought of another pretty young thing beneath the Dark Lord,
yielding to his touch, melting into his embrace… Draco sobbed, his
heart breaking.

Wormtail had suggested that he secure his fate, secure his favour by
killing Dumbledore… Was this a genuine suggestion, or a plot to get
Draco killed? Would this prove that Draco had a use beyond the
physical? Prove that he was clever, cunning, powerful? Draco
dreaded going back to school. This was his weakest time. This was
when this 'other' could take his place with Voldemort. Who was this
other person? Were they more beautiful than him…? If ONLY Draco
could think of a way he could get out of Hogwarts without anyone
knowing, then he could be with Voldemort whenever he was
wanted… 'There MUST be a way!'
When Voldemort returned later that day he couldn't help but notice a
change in Draco. Draco seemed so anxious and tense. Voldemort
took him into the shower and fucked him to help him relax. It worked,
but the effects did not last. Draco was nervous, like he had been
when they first became lovers. Thinking about it, Draco always
seemed a little nervous, Voldemort guessed it was just his nature.
But today Draco was different to how he had been just hours before,
so something must have happened, it couldn't just be the after
effects of too much Fire Whiskey!

'What's the matter, Draco?' Voldemort asked, as they sat on the bed
after showering.

'Nothing!' Draco replied instantly. 'Nothing at all, my Lord.'

Part of him was desperate to tell Voldemort everything that Wormtail

had said. To have Voldemort get angry and punish Wormtail and
passionately reassure Draco that none of it was true. The other part
of him was terrified that everything Wormtail had said WAS true. If
Voldemort found out that Draco knew about it, that could be the end,
right there are then. In anger, he might just cast Draco away. And
even if not, Draco could not just come out and ask the Dark Lord if
he had other lovers! 'He is the Dark Lord, he can do what he likes.
You should never have let yourself think you were anything
important to him, you pathetic whore!'

Voldemort looked at him quizzically, he was very aware when he was

being lied to!

'Has Wormtail been harassing you?' Wormtail was the only person in
the house all day, it didn't take an evil genius to work it out,
Voldemort thought!

'No!' Said Draco, but realising that lying was probably pointless he
added 'He was just trying to wind me up. It's nothing, really.'

'Hummmmm…' Voldemort began, but before he could speak, Draco

had come to him and began to kiss him deeply.
Draco seemed to make even greater effort throughout the rest of the
holidays to please Voldemort. Voldemort was delighted with Draco's
unwavering devotion. Unsure of exactly what Wormtail had said to
Draco, Voldemort did not punish him, but he did send him to 'help'
Snape, so that he was out of the way, and not in a position to taunt
his pet.
Chapter 27
It was only once he was on his way back to Hogwarts that Draco
began to think to himself that he should have been a lot more
vindictive. He should have used the situation and got Wormtail out of
the picture, as he had never liked him anyway. He thought it was
very un Slytherin-like of him not to have made better use of what had
happened, but it was easier to be brave and confident in hindsight,
than it had been at the time. At the time he had had other things to
worry about, like how to keep himself alive.

Draco made his main focus over the holidays simply to please
Voldemort as much as possible. It was hard for him to know exactly
how he could be more pleasing to him than he already was, as he
had always done as he was told, and given whatever was asked of
him. He simply went out of his way to be more affectionate, more
physical, more devoted. Whatever behaviour seemed to Voldemort's
liking, he would do more and more of it. This delighted Voldemort,
who took it as clear confirmation of just how much his little Draco
adored him.

Draco's other concerns over the holidays were in 2 areas:

Firstly, how he could engineer a way that he could get in and out of
Hogwarts unnoticed, allowing him to be with Voldemort whenever he
was required?

Secondly, how could he 'prove himself' to be useful for more than

just sex? How could he prove this to the Dark Lord, and to the
others, and also to himself? How could he let them know that he was
clever and valuable and not to be discarded?

Draco was clever, he was reminded of this the day he received his
O.W.L results and his mother glowed with pride. Unfortunately, Aunty
Bella had been there at the time also and had made the cutting
comment,
'Who cares if he's clever, Sissy? Everyone knows Draco has only
one use in life!' She gave a derogatory gloating smile and Narcissa
looked distraught. She had wanted so much more for her son!

Desperate to please his mother, Draco later tried to comfort her by

telling her that the Dark Lord did not only want him for one thing, but
knew how clever he was and valued that. He told Narcissa that the
Dark Lord wanted him for his mind, for his cleverness and his ability,
not simply for the 'other aspects' of their relationship! Draco was
unsure if he was trying to convince his mother or himself, but he
talked with some bravado about how Voldemort had high hopes for
him and thought him very useful and capable.

Draco had assumed this was what his mother would want to hear.
He had no idea of the distress and trouble it would cause. Instead of
pleasing her, all he did was cause her to worry and fret, and
convince herself that the Dark Lord had asked Draco to carry out
work in Lucius's absence. In her panic, she turned to the one person
she thought Draco would be safe with, the one person she trusted to
help her son; Severus Snape. Snape, through a combination of
compassion, guilt and peer pressure from Bellatrix, vowed to protect
Draco and to carry out any task he might fail to do.

Meanwhile, clever Draco put his mind to the problem of how to get in
and out of Hogwarts to see Voldemort. This had to be his key focus,
he decided, for a number of reasons. Firstly, was the purely selfish
fact that he could not stand the thought of another year like the one
before. Week after week of feeling cold, alone and desperate, with
only the Sweet Dreams pendant and a few snatched moments in the
school holidays to keep him from going crazy. Somehow he had
survived like this last year, but things were so much more intense
now, there was no way he could do it again.

The second reason was because he simply had to be with Voldemort

as much as possible, so that Voldemort didn't get closer to anyone
else, any of these other people he shared his bed with. The very
thought of this ate away at Draco's insides.
In the moments when he was alone with Voldemort, he was almost
sure Wormtail must have been lying! Voldemort would not be with
someone else the way he was with Draco, if for no other reason than
it would be a huge risk to take. Draco had an intimacy with
Voldemort that no one else would understand and most would be
shocked by. Voldemort would surely not risk this type of relationship
with more than one person?

Wormtail had said Draco was the favourite, so Draco rationalised

that maybe any others were simply used for a casual fuck, whilst he
was considered more important. This was what he hoped, but the
insecure part of him thought this was too optimistic to be true.

In reality, this was the closest thing to the truth he could have arrived
at based on what Wormtail had told him. Voldemort rarely bothered
with anyone else. Before Draco, sex had been a need that arose
from time to time and he tended to gratify it by Imperio-ing someone,
using them and throwing them aside. A mudblood, he would
probably kill, and a pure blood would either be left to deal with the
distress afterwards, or if he felt kind, Voldemort might Obliviate them.
It had been different since Draco. Any others he had been with since
Draco had simply been to relieve frustrations in advance of a more
intense, more satisfying and, yes, more meaningful encounter with
Draco. But even had he known this, this was not the version of
events Wormtail wanted Draco to have.

However he looked at the situation, Draco felt his priority was to be

with his lover as much as possible, and he was sure he could find a
way.

In addition to this, if he could find a way to escape from Hogwarts,

this might go some way to proving his cleverness and ability. If he
could find a way to break the rules and escape the walls and wards
of the school, that would surely impress people.

Draco knew there were secret passages and was sure with some
research he might be able to find one, but he decided this would be
unreliable as too much could go wrong. A secret passage would
have to be accessed from one point in the school and if anyone saw
him use it, or became suspicious the game would be up. A secret
passage could be discovered, could cave in, could be in use by
others… there were too many variables. It had to be something
better hidden than a passage.

Where was the best place to hide something at Hogwarts? Draco

mused. If he could make his escape route from anywhere, where
would be the most ideal place? It dawned on him only the night
before he had to shop for his school things, which was fortunate as it
gave him the chance to put the first part of his plan into action.

It wasn't difficult to get compliance from the staff at Borgin & Burkes.
Dracos 'status' was well known, and if he wanted access to an item
in the shop, it was best to comply.

So stage one had been easy, stage two would be more difficult and
Draco set off to Hogwarts with his head full of troubles and schemes
which has nothing to do with his studies or his friends.

Pansy noticed the difference in Draco right away, even on the train
he was distant, sluky and aloof. She was troubled, while Blaise
simply put it down to one of Draco's moods.

Draco was devastated and extremely anxious to be returning to

school. He might as well have been being sent to Azkaban for how
terrible he felt. He would be locked up, away from Voldemort, and he
was completely powerless to do anything about it. His concerns ran
so much deeper than Goyles story about beating up a third year boy,
or who Pansy had slept with on holiday. The train chatter annoyed
the hell out of him. Adding insult to injury, Potter, the nosey idiot, had
the nerve to sneak into the Slytherin carriage under that cloak of his
and try to listen in. Clearly he didn't realise just how much noise he
made, or that the cloak no longer completely covered his feet. Draco
took great delight in attacking him when they arrived at the station.
Somehow it made him feel a little better, it let off a little steam.
Chapter 28
Fixing the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement proved to be
a difficult and demanding job. Clever as Draco was, the task was far
from easy and each failed attempt distressed him deeply, as it was
more time lost when he was not with Voldemort, and someone else
might usurp him.

By Halloween the effects of stress were beginning to show. While

other students fretted about homework, exams, love potions,
Quidditch and house points, Draco was run ragged and losing sleep
wondering if Voldemort still wanted him and trying in vain to fix the
damn cabinet. His grades were slipping, he hardly seemed to try in
class anymore, except for the time when the Felix Felicis potion was
on offer, causing Harry to worry about what exactly he wanted it for.
Draco looked ill too, he looked tired and even more pale than
normal.

Harry had noticed this as well. He had speculated that Draco might
be a death eater and now couldn't shake the idea from his mind. He
wanted to confront Draco with this, to catch him in the act, whatever
'the act' was… But niggling within him was a feeling that he didn't
just want to catch Draco, he wanted to rescue him too. He did have a
dreadful 'saving people' thing!

They say there is a fine line between love and hate. Harry should
hate Draco, he knew that, because really, ' what's not to hate about
Draco?' Spoilt, selfish, shallow, cruel and prejudiced, Draco was
everything Harry was not. So why then did some deep, dark part of
him feel urges towards Draco that he dare not admit? What was it
within him that made him feel that way? He liked Ginny, for Gods
sake! Sweet, bright, lovely fiery Ginny Weasley. Ginny, who cared
about him, was friendly and warm. So why when he saw Draco so ill
and stressed, so vulnerable and anxious, did he want to rescue him?
Want to throw his arms around him and, and… do something he
shouldn't want to do! Harry tried to fight it, but it was like there was
something inside him that made him want Draco, want to follow him,
be near him, touch him… 'No!' He told himself firmly every day.
These feelings made no sense and he didn't know where they were
coming from. He hated Draco, end of story. Sure, he may have had
the odd 'curious' thought about him in the past, but he hated him,
damn it, so what were these other feelings about?

It was easy to cover them up of course. He was following Draco

because he thought he was up to something. Simple and
explainable. Until one night in November…

He was covered by, no, almost tangled in, black satin sheets. There
was a raw, musky smell in the air, the smell of sex. The room was
dark and he was aware only of the bed. It was hot, he was naked.
He was not alone. A slim, delicate body was writhing beneath him
and he could hear the person gasping and he was not quite sure
whether it was through pleasure or distress.

Harry looked down. Draco Malfoy was laying beneath him, naked,
flushed, moaning. His eyes were closed, his lips were slightly parted.
His fair hair wet with sweat and he had a slight flush of colour to his
pale cheeks. Harrys stomach lurched.

He leant down and captured those lips in a passionate and forceful

kiss. He was kissing Draco harder than he would ever have kissed
anyone! Kissing him violently, and yet Draco yielded, willingly it
seemed. But his face was wet. Was Draco crying Harry wondered?
But somehow he didn't stop. He kind of wanted to, and kind of didn't
want to, he certainly wanted to check if this was alright. As arousing
as Draco's breathless whimpers were, they were rather ambiguous
and Harrys Gryffindor nature wanted to be sure he was not doing
anything unwanted.

But Harry was not in control of his own actions it seemed and when
Draco dug his finger nails into his shoulders and scratched down his
arm, Harry raised one hand and struck Draco across the face
making him scream. As well as screaming, Draco responded by
reaching up and sinking his teeth into Harrys neck and trying to fight
his way on top of him.

The pain was intense, but strangely exhilarating and Harry took an
aggressive hold of Draco's hair and flung him hard down onto the
mattress. Harry had no idea he was so much stronger than Draco!
He could throw him around really easily, Draco seemed to be
resisting him, but to no avail. Or perhaps he wasn't really trying too
hard to resist, Harry wasn't sure. He wasn't sure because he had
never been with anyone like this before. Never been naked in bed
with someone, never kissed someone so forcefully, then slapped
them and thrown them about… He would never do that, would he?

He pounced on top of Draco, who snarled at him and bit at his lip,
wrapping his legs around Harrys back and pulling him close. Harry
became aware of his erection. He was so desperately hard, and his
cock was pointing right at Draco's entrance… With a powerful thrust
he ploughed into him and Draco screamed and clawed at his back,
so Harry grabbed his slender wrists and pinned him down. He drew
back and thrust into Draco again, forcing a half scream half sob from
the blond beneath him.

He was fucking Draco. He, Harry, was fucking Draco Malfoy. Pinning
him down and fucking him. And Draco, Draco was sobbing, and
Gods, it felt amazing! It felt so amazing, like this was all he had
wanted, all he had wanted for a very long time and he wondered how
he had survived without it. He kissed Draco again and Draco kissed
him back with such passion and need that Harry felt sure that Draco
adored him more than anything else in the world.

When he released Draco's lips, Draco shouted in pleasure.

'Oh Gods, yes! Oh Gods I need you so much, you feel so good,
please don't stop, please don't ever stop…' And he sobbed again.

Had Harry been in control he would have told Draco that he never
would stop. That he would love him like this till the end of time. That
he did not know he was capable of loving like this until he met Draco.
That Draco had changed everything, and that he wanted Draco
beside him always. Those were the feelings he felt in that moment
and he longed to speak them out loud. But he wasn't in control and
the only sound he managed to make was a lustful hiss…

'Fuck! That's good!' Draco cried as Harry continued to screw him.

'You are so fucking good!' He shouted and Harry felt him begin to
tremble as his climax approached.

Draco was going to come. Harry was fucking Draco and was going
to make Draco come. Was Harry in heaven or hell? Was this the
best, or the worst thing he had ever done…? Desperate to get Draco
off, he reached for Draco's cock and began to tug him roughly. Draco
took little encouragement and in mere seconds Harry felt Draco's
cock throbbing and his ass tensing as he came. The intensity of it
drove Harry to give him a few final hard thrusts which sent him over
the edge too with a loud cry…

Sweaty and flushed, Harry sat up in his bed in the Gryffindor boys
dormitory, awoken by the sound of his own cry. He had been
dreaming.

Thank the Gods and all that is holy, he had been dreaming ! And
clearly he didn't need a luck potion as it seemed that no one had
been woken up by his shout other than him. He supposed they were
all quite heavy sleepers.

Oh Gods! The blankets were all sticky… He hadn't, had he…? Yes.
Oh god! He had just had a wet dream about fucking Draco Malfoy.
Harry wondered for a moment if this was in fact, the worst thing that
had ever happened to him. He was embarrassed, even in front of
himself. He had just come, from dreaming about shagging Malfoy…
If anyone ever found out about this he would literally die! If ever
there was a reason to get good at Occlumency, this was it, right
here!

He cleaned the blankets with a spell, got up and splashed some

water on his face and walked around the room, hoping to shake the
memories of the dream before he lay back down. It had been an odd
dream, hadn't it? Draco had seemed both happy and distressed by
what was happening. He had both wanted him and fought with him.
He had cried and asked for more. Was Malfoy really so weird in bed?
Harry did not want to pursue that chain of thought. Dreaming about it
was bad enough without giving detailed waking consideration to
what Malfoy would be like in bed! Harry had slapped him too, and
Malfoy had bitten and scratched him. Was that because Harry hated
him in waking life? Or was that just the sort of thing Malfoy was into?
Harry knew there were muggle doctors who analysed dreams. He
wondered what they would make of having a vivid sex dream about
your high school enemy…? For a fleeting moment he wondered if
professor Trelawney knew about dreams, but he pushed that thought
from his mind!

Harry told himself not to dwell on it, it must just be one of the many
joys of being a teenager, to have vile sex dreams about people you
hate… But it seemed odd to have such a vivid dream, to be so
aware of the physical sensations. Particularly when you are
dreaming about something you have never actually experienced in
reality, Harry thought. And it was strange that he didn't feel that he
had been in control of his actions. He had wanted to stop and
couldn't, there were feelings he felt but didn't say out loud because
he wasn't in control…

Harrys heart froze. This was not the first time he had had 'dreams'
like this. Dreams where he saw and experienced the action first hand
but was not in control of what he did, was not himself.

'Please, No!' Harry whispered aloud, feeling sicker than he could

ever remember feeling in his life. He couldn't explain why, but his
eyes filled with tears and he gripped his pillow tightly. 'Please, God
No!' He whispered again.

It couldn't be, he couldn't have just seen Voldemort… Voldemort

fucking Malfoy. Voldemort did NOT do that sort of thing, did he? He
didn't have those sort of urges, and feelings? They could not have
been Voldemort's feelings Harry had just felt! In the dream Harry had
wanted to tell Draco that he loved him to eternity… Voldemort
couldn't love. Harry was sure of it. There was no way it could have
been Voldemort, it couldn't have been one of those dreams. There
was no way! Besides, Malfoy was at school! This very night, this very
moment, Draco Malfoy would be sound asleep in the Slytherin
dormitory, probably dreaming about perfectly normal things. He was
certainly not dreaming about having sex with Harry, and he definitely
was not with Voldemort! There was no way, Harry told himself.

He had learned the hard way that he really should tell someone
about these dreams when he thought he saw Voldemort's actions.
He should tell Hermione, or go to Dumbledore, even if he didn't feel
sure about what he saw, he knew he should tell someone. But no
one was going to hear about this, ever! He had rationalised it for
himself and it couldn't be what he dreaded it being. So therefore no
one needed to know. No one. Ever.

Far away from Hogwarts, in the large black four poster bed, Draco
lay in Voldemort's arms, the bed a mess, the sheets soaked with
sweat.

Draco, to his enormous relief, had been summoned 'home' for the
weekend, and had gone to Voldemort via his port-key the moment he
had arrived at the manor. In his mind, he planned to talk to
Voldemort, to discuss the problems he was having with the vanishing
cabinet, to maybe ask for help with it, but the conversation never
actually took place. The moment he and Voldemort set eyes on one
another, desire and emotions overwhelmed both of them. Draco
rushed straight to him and fell into his arms, kissing him deeply,
running his hands over him, scrabbling to get his robes off as quickly
as possible…

Voldemort had been so busy with his plans, co-ordinating the death
eaters and recruiting new followers, he had made a conscious effort
not to see Draco for a while. But he knew he would miss him and
eventually kept a weekend free and insisted Narcissa bring him
home. Frustrated and having missed each other as much as they
had, they spent most of the weekend in bed. In bed, on the table, on
the desk in the study and in the big leather armchair. Somehow,
conversations never happened as they 'made the most' of the
weekend together.

Voldemort fucked Draco aggressively 'because Draco likes that.' He

slapped him and threw him about roughly, restraining him and taking
him forcefully. Draco fought with him, but this was an established
aspect of their coupling by now, they played this way for mutual
enjoyment. Voldemort liked control, and Draco liked submission.
They were well matched.

Draco worked hard to serve Voldemort. He climbed on top of him

and rode his cock if he was told to, he would lay naked over the
table, he would crawl on his knees on the floor. He found that
whatever he had to do, he loved having Voldemort's attention, loved
being his. When he was alone with Voldemort he was nearly
convinced that Wormtail had been lying. The connection between
Voldemort and himself was electrifying and stronger than anything
he had ever felt. Just as at their first meeting when Draco had
reached a point where he had to resign himself to his physical fate,
he now was beginning to resign himself to his emotional fate. In his
heart he knew that he felt the feelings he should never feel for the
Dark Lord.

On Sunday morning, they lay in bed sleeping, Nagini coiled around

their feet. Draco opened his eyes as the light began to break through
the curtains and gave a sad sigh as he realised he had to go back to
school today. Once he was back at school, all of the doubts and
insecurities would creep back in, he would begin not to trust the
overwhelming feelings he had experienced this weekend, and would
begin to worry again about what was happening in his absence.

'Where's he been all weekend?' Ron asked as he saw Draco arriving

back at school on Sunday night.

'Home, I imagine.' Hermione answered. 'I think his mother brings him
home every now and then.'
'I guess that makes sense.' Ron said. 'She probably wants the
company now that her husband is in jail, although why anyone would
want his company, I don't know!'

'I guess his mother actually likes him.' Hermione said impartially.

'For Gods sake don't tell Harry that Malfoy was home this weekend!'
Ron said. 'It'll only add fuel to his idea that he's a death eater, we
don't want to encourage him on that one!'
Chapter 29
Whilst Draco toiled with fixing the cabinet, he was not the only
person who was concerned that his plans were not moving along as
fast as he would like. Wormtail was most displeased that Draco had
not shown any sign of planning to act on his advice about
despatching Dumbledore, so he decided to take matters into his own
hands.

He sent Draco a message informing him that a poisoned necklace

had been left with Rosemata at the Three Broomsticks and by use of
the Imperius curse, he could see that it was delivered to the
headmaster.

'I would not advise you to waste time, Draco. I can sense the Dark
Lord is beginning to doubt your devotion to him.' Wormtail warned in
his letter.

Draco was unsure whether he believed this, but made a small, half
hearted attempt to get the item into school. He did not succeed, but it
was not his real focus.

Unfortunately, all it did was draw Potters attention to him and he

began to take an annoyingly close interest in everything Draco did.
Draco began to rely on Crabbe and Goyle to guard the room of
requirement when he went to work on the cabinet. They were less
inclined to think or ask questions than Pansy or Blaise. Draco drifted
apart from his friends.

It was not just Potter who seemed intent on annoying Draco by

following him and watching him. Snape was at it as well. Draco had
purposely avoided Snape since his return to school, due in no small
part to the fact that he was mortified about what had happened that
night at the meeting. It had been fun at the time, he had certainly got
a kick from it, but having to face Snape at school and see him in
classes, after what he had done, it was so incredibly awkward.
Snape felt the same way, with a huge helping of guilt on the side.
There was no way he could even try to deny that he had 'enjoyed'
what had happened in the moment of it happening, but he was so
deeply ashamed. He felt terrible. He had promised, he had sworn to
Draco that he would never behave that way with him. 'You are safe
with me, Draco.' He had broken this promise and done what he said
he would never do.

It would have suited him to avoid Draco around school and he would
have done just that, but for the promise he had made to Narcissa.
He had made an unbreakable vow that he would help Draco
complete the task he had set out to do. He had no choice now but to
try to find out what it was and to help Draco achieve it.

Having hauled Draco out of Slughorns party, Snape took the chance
to corner Draco and offer him help. Draco angrily refused, a
conversation overheard by Harry, who wove it in to his death eater
theory.

Draco stormed away from Snape. He had hardly been able to look at
him or be in the same room as him, he did not want to have secret
conversations in deserted corridors. However, Snape was persistent
and followed him, leading to a conversation between the two of
them, which fortunately remained private.

Snape caught up with Draco and grabbed him roughly by the arm,
dragging him into a deserted classroom. He slammed the door
behind them and pinned Draco against it.

'Do NOT walk away from me when I am talking to you!' He

whispered, close to Draco's face.

'Take your hands off me!' Draco snapped at him and tried to push
him away, but Snape held him firm. He was going to make him listen.

'You need to let me help you, Draco! Don't you realise what danger
you are in?' He implored him. 'Do you realise for one minute what
you have got yourself into, who you are dealing with?' He continued.
Emotions exploded through Draco, from his heart, right out to the
tips of his fingers and toes. He trembled with rage and frustration. He
could hardly believe what Snape had just asked him!

'How stupid do you think I am?' He almost shouted. 'And what choice
do you think I had going into this, really? You think I haven't thought
about the danger I'm in? The danger my family is in? But no one can
help me, can they? No one can do anything about it. No one is there
for me. No one! Except him . The one I am in danger from, the one
you all tell me to be afraid of… And of course I'm afraid, but I have
been for ages. I have been terrified, but no one wanted to help me
then!'

A years worth of anger burst out of Draco's mouth, his eyes filled
with tears.

'If you wanted to help me, you should have done so a year ago!' He
gasped.

Snapes grip on him loosened and he rested his hands on Draco's

shoulders.

'I'm sorry, I really am sorry.' Snape whispered, running one hand

down Draco's arm, then resting a hand in his hair, wrapping an arm
around him and pulling him close, holding him tightly. 'I should have
helped you, I'm sorry.'

Draco neither hugged Snape nor pushed him away as he weighed

up the situation. He was furious with Snape for interfering, if he could
gage Snapes emotions accurately, he could chose the best response
to get him to leave him alone!

Snape lightly cupped Draco's face.

'Please let me help you now.' He whispered, his face inches from
Draco, an familiarity in this voice which was not entirely appropriate.
Draco reached up and brushed his lips against Snapes. Snape froze
for a moment, a mere split second, before he took hold of Draco
firmly and pressed his mouth over his, sliding his tongue into Draco's
mouth, pressing him bodily against the door. He wanted him, very
much. He didn't exactly love Draco, but by the Gods, did he want
him! And he cared about him, felt protective of him. He would be nice
to him, show him kindness in intimacy, be gentle with him. Snape
though he could give Draco what he imagined he had not had
before.

Snape thrust his hips forward and he ran his hands down Draco's
body, holding him at his narrow waist. Breaking out of the kiss he
whispered,

'I will help you, Draco! Oh Draco, I will do anything I can to help you!
Gods, I'll do anything!'

Draco's twilight grey eyes, which had been wide and staring up at
Severus, now narrowed in a dangerous and vindictive way and a
spiteful smile crept over his pretty face.

'You bastard.' He hissed. 'You fucking bastard! You'll help me now,

will you? What will it cost me? More of what you've had already, or
do you want something more this time?'

Snape staggered backwards away from Draco, looking at him as

though he were a coiled serpent about to strike.

'You'll help me if I get on my knees again, will you?' Draco drawled.

'Or do you want to fuck me this time? I'm pretty good, you know.'

'No…' Snape began. 'I didn't mean to…'

'And what do you think will happen to me if I let you fuck me? You
promise to 'help' me, but I expect when you have had what you want
you'll forget that promise! I know it's all you're after. Minutes alone
with me and you have pinned me against the wall and groped me.
You don't care about me at all. I don't think he'd be too happy with
me, would he? I am his . I belong to him .' Draco advanced towards
Snape who was, in turn, backing away from him as he spoke.

'Stop, Draco! I'm sorry, I won't touch you again.' He insisted, trying to
sound as calm as possible.

'Probably a good idea.' Draco smiled. 'I don't think he would be too
happy with you if he knew what you had just done.'

'Are you threatening me?' Snape asked.

'Leave me alone, and I will never mention it.' Draco said flatly. 'I don't
want your help, I know what I am doing.'

Draco turned and flounced out of the room, slamming the door
behind him. Despite his parting comment, he had never felt less sure
of what he was doing in his life.
Chapter 30
Spring came, and with it some progress on the cabinet which lifted
Draco's sprits more than any amount of fresh air and sunshine could
have done. Objects were passing safely through the cabinet and
returning undamaged which made Draco happy, until he tried to
send the bird and it was dead when it returned. This made his blood
run cold. It actually made him cry, or perhaps he just wanted to cry
anyway.

He missed Voldemort, missed him so much his heart hurt. He not

only missed the sex, the adrenalin and the danger, but he missed the
moments of tranquillity that happened in between. The precious
moments when they both thought; 'It was never meant to be like
this…' but neither of them wanted it to be any different. Sure,
Voldemort would slap Draco around, swear at him and fuck him like
a whore, but when he thought Draco was sleeping he would stroke
his hair and face, kiss him softly and hold him tenderly. Increasingly
he did these things when Draco was awake too. Draco, who had
once felt more uncomfortable with affection and companionship than
he had done with rough sex, now returned kind gestures with gentle
touches, kisses and smiles. It was their little secret.

But these moments were few and far between. The holidays were
not frequent enough and Voldemort didn't ask Narcissa to bring
Draco home too often. He was very busy. Draco worried what, or
who, he was busy with.

The day that Draco realised he had done it, he had finally fixed the
cabinet, his heart leapt. He wanted to rush and tell someone, he was
so excited, but of course there was no one he could tell. Leaving the
room of requirement, he ran to the great hall. He needed a coffee to
settle his nerves. Actually he needed something stronger, but coffee
was the best he was going to get, his own supplies of alcohol
depleted.
His mind was racing. He could get out of Hogwarts. He could use the
flue network to get to the manor from Borgin & Burkes, the
connection was secure and secret so he wouldn't be traced. Then
his port-key would tell him if he could go to Voldemort. Or he could
get a message to Voldemort that he was home and available… He
would wear his white silk shirt, and tight fitting trousers, with a black
velvet waistcoat, unfastened, casual and sexy… maybe with a
scarf…? He would tousle his hair a bit too and wear his favourite
scent…

He burst into the great hall with a sense of some urgency, needing to
calm down and compose his thoughts. His emotions were running
high, both elation and panic, what if he went home and Voldemort
was 'busy'? Busy with someone else? Draco needed to sit down and
focus his mind.

Unfortunately, as he burst into the hall, wild eyed and frantic, he

caught the eye of a certain Gryffindor student, who stared back at
him and seemed to observe his feelings of exigency from across the
room.

This was the last thing Draco needed right now. Potter, who stalked
him like a shadow these days, now looked like he was going to
advance towards Draco for some kind of confrontation. A year or so
ago, Draco sought out confrontation with Potter, but things were
different now. There were more important things to think about than
Potter!

It could have been considered out of character, but Draco turned and
walked away as briskly as he could without running. Harry took this
as a confirmation of guilt, guilt of what he didn't know. Possibly guilt
of trying to get that necklace thing into school. He pursued him out of
the great hall. This had gone far enough. All of Harrys emotions
around Draco welled up inside him. This had definitely gone far
enough, it was time to sort it out once and for all!

Draco rushed to the one place he could generally rely on to get

some peace. The bathroom was usually deserted apart from that
ghost girl, and she had been quite nice to him on a couple of
occasions when he had been stressed and emotional. Hopefully she
would understand if he needed some space today. The room looked
empty and he rushed to the sink and splashed some water on his
face.

'Calm down, cool down, relax!' He told himself. 'You have done it!
You have done what you set out to do. It's not 'all alright' yet, but you
have made good progress…'

His thoughts were interrupted by the slam of the door.

Harrys heart was racing. Malfoy was alone. Just him and Malfoy,
alone in the bathroom. There was no getting away now. Malfoy
would have to answer his questions, would have to listen to him,
couldn't hide behind his henchmen… And if he tried to run away
Harry would stop him. That would involve touching him, wouldn't it?
Grabbing hold of him and stopping him getting away, forcing him to
do what Harry wanted him to do. The concept of this gave Harry
uncomfortable flashbacks to his dream and his stomach seemed to
try to twist itself inside out. His throat dried up and everything he had
planned to say suddenly seemed to elude him.

'Malfoy…' He began.

Draco spun round and saw Harry, wand drawn. Although he had
attacked Harry in the past, he never fancied his chances in a fair
fight with him. Somehow, Harry had nearly killed Voldemort 15 years
ago. This thought terrified Draco as it meant that Harry must be very
powerful. Harry would kill Voldemort if he had the chance… Draco's
initial fear turned to rage.

'Crucio! He yelled, and Harry leapt out of the way just in time.

Expecting a retaliation, Draco took cover as Harry shot a spell at

him. Using the bathroom stalls for cover they fired curses at one
another, Myrtle screaming at them to stop.
This was not what Harry had intended to happen. He had meant to
talk to Draco, to be in total control of the situation. He hadn't
expected Draco to wheel round like a psychopath and shoot an
unforgivable curse straight at him. He had to get the situation under
control. If only Hermione was here, she would have some amazing
spell up her sleeve to overpower Malfoy and get him to talk. Harry
realised just how much he relied on his friends to help him out. Now
it was just him and Malfoy, man to man, Harry was not sure what to
do. But wait! Harry had another 'friend' who had secretly been
helping him out all year, the Half Blood Prince! He had a spell to
overcome an enemy, didn't he?

'Septum Sempra!' Harry shouted.

Draco was thrown by hearing a spell he did not recognise and

consequently did not react as quickly as he needed to, to dodge the
spell. He had barely a split second to realise this before he felt a red
hot pain rip across his chest, he flew backwards and landed on the
his back on the cold hard tiled floor.

Draco tried desperately to draw a proper breath, to make a sound,

but he felt like his throat had closed. His chest felt like it was on fire,
and even on the wet bathroom floor he became aware of vast
amounts of his own blood pooling around him. He tried to scream.
No sound came.

Myrtle was screaming and screaming, and Harry had rushed to

Draco's side. What had he done? He would never… How could he
have been so stupid…? Kneeling beside Draco he took hold of him
and cradled him in his arms, panic and fear rising within him.

'Malfoy? Malfoy, I'm sorry…' He began.

Draco was half sobbing. He was going to die, he knew it. He was
going to die here in this bathroom, with Potter. Potter had killed him.
He was going to die and there was something he needed to tell
someone. Something he had never dared to say, and now it was too
late. His vision began to tunnel and he felt his consciousness
beginning to slip away…

Someone else was there. Someone he recognised, and they were

saying words. Soft words which took some of the pain away. The
person had a voice which was calming, although it was not the voice
Draco wanted most to hear.

The pain was lessening and Draco found he was able to take
breaths again. He could hear crying, a girl was crying and a boy was
saying something, but it sounded like he was almost crying too. The
floor was red. The person with the healing voice had picked him up
and he was now staring downwards at the red floor. The floor wasn't
usually red. It was wet too, it moved and it was shiny.

Someone left the room and the voice-person carried Draco towards
the door. They held him in a way that felt nice, felt safe, like a father
would, although Draco's own father hadn't always been an expert at
kindness. Draco felt sure this person would help him. They had
stopped the pain after all. Summoning every scrap of strength he
had, Draco whispered,

'Voldemort… Please, take me to Voldemort.'

The voice whispered,

'You mustn't talk about him just now Draco, it must stay a secret.
You are going to be ok, I promise. '

Draco had no choice but to trust the voice and it was at this point
that he lost consciousness completely and was, for a time, in no
more danger of saying anything he shouldn't.

Draco awoke hours later, although it felt to him like it could have
been days later. He was in a room which, to his eyes, was far too
bright and white. He was laying on a less than comfortable bed and
there were no blankets over him. He began to push himself upright.
'Draco! You're alright!' A high pitched voice screeched, far too close
and far too loud for his liking and a pair of arms were flung around
him, which was actually rather painful.

'Let go of him Pansy!' A deeper voice said. 'He's been injured,

remember!'

The arms loosened and their owner stepped back. Draco saw Pansy
and Blaise standing beside the bed on which he was laying in the
hospital wing.

'I've told everyone about what Potter did to you!' Pansy announced
vehemently.

'Oh, thanks!' Replied Draco, not without a touch of sarcasm. Blaise

smirked.

'Well he's totally out of control!' Pansy exclaimed. 'People need to

know what he's capable of, he's lost the plot!'

'Yeah.' Draco conceded.

'What spell did he cast?' Blaise asked.

'I don't know.' Said Draco. 'I didn't recognise it, that's what caught me
off guard… Listen, how long have I been here?' He asked, as
memories of the events leading up to his injury came flooding back.

'A couple of hours.' Blaise told him. 'Snape bought you here, he was
the first person on the scene, did some kind of healing spell on you,
pretty much saved your life from what I can gather!'

Processing this information, Draco nodded sincerely.

'Draco, you have hardly spoken to us all year, what's going on?'
Pansy asked, as direct as ever, and Blaise shot her an 'is this really
the right time…?' look.
Not quite feeling up to running away, Draco was captive, so he
answered her question.

'I'm sorry.' He began. 'I have had lots on my mind and it's been bad
at home, with my father away…'

Pansy touched his arm supportively.

'I don't do emotions all that well, you know…' Draco continued.

'Yeah, we know!' Blaise chipped in. 'You've been even more of a jerk
than usual!' It was Pansys turn to shoot him a look, but Draco half
laughed.

'But here you are, at my bedside!' Draco drawled. Blaise smiled, it

was good to talk to Draco again.

'We are your friends, idiot!' Pansy snapped. 'Don't shut us out.'

'I am sorry.' Draco said earnestly. 'Some things have been going on
that I can't tell people about. But a lot of it is sorted now. I'm sorry
I've been an asshole.'

'You've always been an asshole.' Blaise smiled at him. 'But here we

are.'

'Miss Parkinson, Mr Zabini, you must leave now.' Came a strict, shrill
voice from the far end of the room. 'Now that you are satisfied that
Mr Malfoy is alright, you can wait for him in your common room.
Professor Snape wishes to talk to him now.' Madam Pomfrey
concluded.
Chapter 31
Draco felt a twinge of regret as Blaise and Pansy left. They were
good friends and he had shut them out this year. Striding towards
him was another person he had done his best to shut out. A person
who he knew had just saved his life.

Snape sat down beside Draco on the bed and once Madam Pomfrey
had returned to her office, Draco's eyes filled with tears.

'I'm sorry.' He gasped and flung his arms around Snape, quite
ignoring the fact that this was very painful, as his chest was sore
from his injury.

Snape returned Draco's hug, holding him this time in a fatherly,

protective way. Something in the dynamic between them was
different now. The moment he had set eyes on Draco as he lay
bleeding on the floor, Snape had realised just how vulnerable Draco
really was. Any feelings of desire he once had for the boy
evaporated and were replaced with pure compassionate concern. He
held the bleeding Draco and healed him with such an urgency as if
he had been his own child. There was no awkwardness or tension in
this embrace. It was an embrace of gratitude, of care and of
reconciliation.

'I'm really sorry Professor.' Draco sniffed tearfully.

'Shhhh!' Snape calmed him. 'It's ok, you don't have to apologise.' He
released Draco from the hug, but they kept hold of each other.

'I behaved terribly to you…' Draco began.

'As I did to you. On more than one occasion.' Snape said. 'It's past
now.'

Draco smiled at him.

'Thank you.' He said warmly. 'For everything.' He added.

'You asked me to take you to him.' Snape said, in a voice which

betrayed no emotion.

'Oh Gods!' Exclaimed Draco, who had been oblivious of this fact.
'Did anyone else hear?'

'No. Fortunately.' Snape said. 'You wanted to go to him…' He

continued in a whisper.

'I thought I was going to die.' Draco said quietly. 'And so I wanted…
to see him.' He concluded almost silently.

Snape took Draco's hand in his.

'I didn't realise how you felt, Draco.' Snape said softly.

Ashamed, Draco looked down at his hands. He nodded his head.

'Has he asked you to carry out work for him?' Snape asked. While
there were having an honest conversation he may as well try to find
out what task Draco had been set.

'Why do you ask?' Said Draco a little defensively. If he answered 'no'

it would seem like Voldemort didn't think he was useful or capable,
but if he answered 'yes', not only would he be lying, but Snape would
want to know what it was… 'He has not asked me to do anything,
no.' He decided was the best answer.

'I ask because I don't want you to put yourself in danger.' Said
Snape. 'Your mother is concerned…'

'What has she said?' Draco asked sharply.

'Nothing.' Snape lied. 'But she is your mother and she is right to be
worried for you. The Dark Lord is extremely dangerous.'

'I know.' Said Draco in an oddly tranquil voice. 'I know.'

At that moment, the door opened and Madam Pomfrey bustled down
the length of the ward to Draco's bed. Snape and Draco let go of
each other's hands.

'Well Professor? What do you think? Is he well enough to return to

the common room?' She asked in her brisk manner.

'Yes, I would imagine so.' Snape replied. 'He should not go to

classes this afternoon but should stay and rest in the dormitory
instead. And he must continue to use the dittany, that will reduce the
scarring.'

'Scarring?' Echoed Draco, alarmed.

'You had some very deep wounds to your chest, Mr Malfoy.' Madame
Pomfrey told him. Fortunately we were able to treat you quickly, so
any long term scarring should be minimal…'

Draco had already unfastened his shirt to inspect the damage and
he gasped in horror as he saw deep red scars running across his
chest laterally. He looked at Snape, his eyes wide with horror.

'The dittany will reduce these dramatically over the next 48 hours.'
Snape assured him. 'I also have a long acting healing potion I will
bring to you later. With a little luck those scars will have almost
disappeared in a day or so.'
Chapter 32
Stupid bloody Potter! Draco had never hated him more than he did
right now. There was no way he could leave Hogwarts and go to see
Voldemort with such terrible scars across his body. All he could do
was hope and pray that the dittany and the healing potion did their
work over the next 48 hours.

48 hours! It would feel like a lifetime! Of course, it was no time at all

compared to the amount of time he had already been locked away at
school, but now there WAS an escape route and he couldn't make
use of it right away… 48 hours would seem like forever.

He worried the scars would not go. He worried Snape might tell his
mother about his injuries, she had enough to deal with already. He
worried that someone would discover the cabinet, especially when
he heard that Potter and the Weasley girl had been seen hurrying to
the 4th floor looking like they had something to hide. Draco worried
they would access the room of requirement, find the cabinet and all
his hard work would be for nothing. He was a nervous wreck when
Snape appeared in the dormitory with the healing potion.

Snape had anticipated Draco's mental state and had the good sense
to bring him some Dreamless Sleep potion too. Draco took the
potion and Snape stayed watching him until he was sure he was
deeply asleep. It was hard to know which one of them was more
relieved that they were on good terms again.

Draco was very impressed by the effectiveness of the dittany. In 2

days, what had been ferocious red gashes across his chest had
faded to pink ribbon-like lines, which were far less noticeable. In a
dimly lit room, they might not be noticeable at all. Hopefully.

The time had come. He was going to use the cabinet, pass through it
himself for the first time. He would step into it at Hogwarts and step
out at Borgin & Burkes. It would be quick and simple.
Draco's stomach was tied in knots as he opened the door of the
cabinet to step inside. He was resolved to just do it, as there was not
point losing any more time fretting over 'what ifs…'

It was quick and it was simple. At first Draco thought it hadn't

worked and he would open the door and find himself still in the room
of requirement, but no! He tentatively opened the door and his eyes
lit up when the scene that was revealed before him was the back
room at Borgin & Burkes.

He was greeted cordially by the staff and he informed them he

wished to use the flue connection to the manor. There was no
objection.

He stepped out of the fireplace in the study and found the room
deserted. Deciding it might be best not to seek out his mother and be
forced to explain how and why he had come home, he ran straight to
his room and checked on his port-key.

The snakes eyes were not glowing, which meant Voldemort was not
there, or not available, or not alone, or something. Either way, it
wouldn't work like this. Draco's emotional rollercoaster took another
downward plunge. Was all this effort in vain? Calming himself, he
changed his clothes and styled his hair. If he took his time over this
maybe by the time he was finished, Voldemort might be available to
see him?

Posing before the mirror and making sure he looked just right, Draco
saw, to his delight, that the eyes of the snake port-key were now
glowing. He could go to Voldemort!

He grabbed the port-key with both hands and appeared in the dark
bedroom merely seconds after Voldemort himself had slammed the
door after a particularly gruelling and involved meeting of the death
eaters.

'Draco!' He gasped, at once concerned as to why Draco was here

and whether anyone else knew where he was.
'Hello, my Lord.' Said Draco, softly, with a sly smile. He had made it!
He had come to Voldemort, Voldemort was alone. They were
together.

'Aren't you meant to be in school…' Voldemort began.

'It's alright.' Draco smiled at him. 'No one knows I'm not there.'

Voldemort looked surprised, pleasantly so, and he approached

Draco. These were most fortuitous circumstances. He could do with
something to relieve a bit of tension, something to divert him a little,
and here was Draco, his favourite thing. The perfect solution.

Voldemort advanced towards Draco, flattered and amused by the

fact that Draco had clearly doused himself in a good deal of
expensive scent right before he grabbed the port-key.

'No-one knows you're here?' He asked in his usual somewhat

sinister hiss.

'No one.' Said Draco sounding rather pleased with himself.

'You escaped from school, and you came, here…?' Voldemort

teased in a dark tone, now so close to Draco that he loomed over
him.

'I… I wanted to see you.' Draco said softly, hoping with all his heart
that Voldemort wanted to see him too.

Voldemort smiled an evil, and thoroughly satisfied smile.

'Well that's very convenient!' He said as he grabbed hold of Draco,

spun him round and flung him face first against the wall. He pounced
on him, seized him roughly by the neck and tilting his head back
whispered

'You just couldn't keep away from me, could you?'

'No, my Lord.' Draco gasped, with some difficulty, as Voldemort was
pushing him against the wall, hard, restricting his breathing.

Voldemort managed to keep Draco firmly held still with one hand
whilst fumbling with his robes with the other.

'You couldn't wait till I sent for you?' Voldemort continued. ' You are
getting rather demanding, Draco!'

He sounded quite aggressive, but Draco got the feeling he was

pleased that he was here and was simply playing with him. He knew
this game.

'I'm so sorry, my Lord.' He whined piteously. 'I just had to be with

you, I need you desperately!' He pleaded. Voldemort laughed.

'You're a good little whore, Draco.' He said as he yanked Draco's

trousers and underwear down around his knees. 'Very good, if a
touch over dramatic!'

With that he spread Draco's pert ass cheeks, exposing his tight hole.
He touched the puckered ring with the tip of his finger and, casting a
quick lubrication charm, he slipped his finger inside.

Draco gave a needy groan, so grateful as he was to finally have

Voldemort's touch. He rutted back against Voldemort's hand, wanting
more of him, all of him, desperate to satisfy his frantic desires. After
all this time, it was still 'this' he craved, needed, to make him feel
alright. The touch, the sensation, but beyond that, the reassurance,
the surrender and the feeling of total release was like oxygen to
Draco. Without it he faded away, without Voldemort's control of him
he was lost, alone and empty. Thank the Gods he had managed to
get here and was able to draw deep, life-saving breaths of the thing
he needed!

Still holding Draco firmly at the back of the neck, Voldemort thrust a
second finger into him and then a third. It seemed he was not in the
mood to be gentle. Draco felt a bit nervous when he was like this, he
wasn't quite predictable and Draco was not sure exactly how far he
would go. However, Draco could usually be persuaded to enjoy
whatever Voldemort wanted to do to him, and had come to trust
Voldemort's judgement above his own at times.

Voldemort fingered him roughly and Draco, through gritted teeth,

whimpered for more. Without warning, Voldemort suddenly withdrew
his fingers and replaced them with a violent thrust of his thick, hard
cock.

Draco yelped. He had maybe hoped to have been prepared a little

more before being fucked, but at least this proved that Voldemort
had missed him. A second hard slam drew another pained cry.

'Don't make a fuss, love. I know you like it rough!' Voldemort hissed
in Draco's ear, petting his blond hair gently in contrast to his
aggressive thrusts. He very much enjoyed Draco's coy little sobs,
and the uncertainty between pain and rapture.

Draco gasped for breath as Voldemort's thrusts shoved him hard up

against the wall. The cold plaster felt harsh against his soft face and
he tried to brace himself with his hands and forearms.

'You come here dressed up like an expensive rent boy, you should
know what will happen!' Voldemort snarled, one hand gripping
Draco's throat. 'You can whimper and sob all you want, I know you
get off on a good hard fucking, you naughty little slut!'

Draco tipped his head back and he let out a sharp cry as Voldemort
hit him just in the right spot. And, it was really turning him on being
spoken to like that! Draco though he could happily listen to
Voldemort talk dirty all day!

'Aaaaghh…' He half gasped, half cried. Being fucked into the wall
was a little uncomfortable, painful in fact, but 'pleasure would be
empty without a little pain mixed in sometimes' Draco thought as
Voldemort slammed into him.
'This is what you came here for, isn't it?' Voldemort hissed.

'I… I came to, see you.' Draco gasped. 'I want to, be with you.'

'Aww, sweet baby!' Voldemort whispered, as always, his terms of

endearment sounding more frightening than terms that were
derogatory. 'You really missed me? You need me so much?'

'Gods, yes!' Answered Draco as the head of Voldemort's cock

slammed against his prostate again.

'Poor Draco!' Voldemort drawled. 'What have I done to you?' He said

with a perverse smile.

'You made me yours.' Draco whispered.

Even in the thrill of the moment, Voldemort was touched. Draco was
delightful!

'You are mine, baby. You are all mine!' He said, squeezing Draco
tightly, and Draco, overcome with emotion managed only an
incoherent sob in response. The three little words he wanted to say
were lost somewhere in the fog of pleasure that engulfed his brain.

Quickening his thrusts, Voldemort took hold of Draco's hips, long

fingers gripping his hip bones firmly. With a harsh growl he began to
rut Draco hard, in an animalistic fashion and Draco screwed his eyes
shut in ecstasy, his own cock hard and seeping pre come.

'Fuck!' Draco cried. 'Oh fuck, I really need to come!' He was

desperate to have his cock touched. If Voldemort took hold of his
cock, he would probably come in seconds!

'Then touch yourself, baby.' Voldemort hissed. 'Take hold of your

cock and get yourself off while I fuck you.'

Draco didn't need asking twice. The thought of jerking off while
Voldemort fucked him, well, it was pretty damn hot, Draco thought.
One hand shot down and he took firm hold of his erection and
frantically began to tug his dick while Voldemort continued to plough
into him from behind.

'Oh, Gods!' He cried as he reached a spectacular climax, spraying

white pearly ribbons of come down the wall in front of him.

Draco's twitching in the wake of his orgasm took Voldemort over the
edge too and with a powerful forward thrust, he shot his load into
Draco's ass, making Draco cry out again.

Draco flopped back against Voldemort's chest, resting his head back
onto his shoulder. Voldemort supported his body weight, and with
one hand, swept his hair from his face. Draco was grinning from ear
to ear! Voldemort smiled and apparated them both onto the bed.

Half an hour or so later, Voldemort sat in one corner of the bed, and
Draco in the opposite corner at the far end. Voldemort was still
dressed. Draco had removed his trousers and wore only his white
silk shirt and his underwear. His hair was very tousled now! He was
still smiling like a Cheshire cat, as he looked over at Voldemort.

Voldemort, who had been drinking from a glass of wine, noticed

Draco looking at him and putting down the glass, he said.

'Come here, Draco.'

Draco, tilted his head on one side playfully.

'Nah.' He answered, disobediently and leant back, showing no sign

of moving.

Voldemort's eyes widened and he gave Draco a scornful look. Draco

continued to grin at him. Voldemort reached for his wand, and for a
second Draco thought maybe he had been foolish not to obey a
command, but with a gloating smile, Voldemort simply cast

'Accio Draco!' And Draco found himself dragged across the bed and
into Voldemort's lap, where he straddled him.
Draco gasped at the shock of the spell, and then giggled playfully,
hiding his face against Voldemort's shoulder. Voldemort stroked his
hair, and then down his arms, over the sleeves of his shirt.

'You know, ' Voldemort began. 'You have entirely too many clothes
on Draco. You should be naked by now. In fact you should be naked
always!' His hands moved to the buttons of Draco's shirt.

'I'd get cold.' Draco retorted.

'You could wear some chains, maybe…' Voldemort continued.

'Naked and chained… that would be a good look for you!'

Draco laughed a little nervously. How serious was this suggestion?

'Sounds a bit impractical!' He answered.

'Maybe.' Voldemort mused. 'And I don't want everyone looking at you

like that. Only me.'

'Oh, that's ok then!' Said Draco, relieved that this was simply pillow
talk. If Voldemort had really planned to chain him up, he would
probably have just done it! 'And you'll cast a warming charm if I'm
cold?' He asked.

'If you're good!' Voldemort said as he unfastened Draco's shirt.

As he pushed the fabric back, he looked down at Draco's body and

gasped. Draco's beautiful pale chest was scarred. Draco didn't have
scars, at least he never used to! He had pink scar lines right across
his body. How had this happened, who had done this to him?

Draco froze in terror, in his happiness he had forgotten. Was he

damaged goods now?

But Voldemort's eyes betrayed not feelings of anger, but of concern.

'What happened to you?' He asked softly, moving his hand near to

the scars, but not touching them in case Draco was in pain with
them. Had he known about them, he would have been more gentle
just before!

'Errrm… I got in a fight. At school.' Draco said, a questioning in his

eyes. 'Am I going to be in trouble?'

Voldemort inspected the scars more closely and fear suddenly

gripped him as he realised,

'Draco, wounds like these could have killed you!'

Draco hung his head in shame.

'Who did this to you, honey?' Voldemort demanded, adding the word
'honey' to try to assure Draco he was not in trouble, as Draco could
do doubt feel Voldemort's emotions building up…

'Potter.' Draco confessed, quietly.

There was a deathly silence. NOW there was anger, anger radiating
from Voldemort's face, from his body, his entire being. He was
determined not to let that anger explode in Draco's presence, so he
pressed it all deep down and simply said.

'In which case, I deeply regret that I will only get to kill him once.'

How dare Potter attack Draco? How dare Potter mark something of
Voldemort's? There was no death cruel enough for him!

Voldemort's anger scared Draco, even like this and he remained

silent.

'What happened?' Voldemort asked, not wanting Draco to be silent.

'It was a fight, that's all.' Draco replied, still not looking up. 'I hate
him. He hates me.'

'I want you so stay away from him, Draco. He's dangerous.'
Voldemort warned. No one knew what Potter was capable of and
although Voldemort was 99% sure his survival as an infant had been
little more than luck, he didn't want to take chances with Draco's
safety.

'I will. I tried to, actually but he came after me.' Draco recalled. 'But it
was probably because I stunned him on the way to school this year
and then stamped on him and broke his nose…' He paused, he had
been almost thinking aloud and forgotten Voldemort was listening.

'Did you?!' Voldemort asked, with a half smile.

'Yes.' Said Draco. 'I hate him. Always have.'

Voldemort touched Draco's face gently and said

'I hate him too, especially because he hurt you. But I want you to
stay well away from him from now on. I will deal with him when the
time comes.'

Draco nodded.

'Promise you will do as I say?' Voldemort pushed.

'Always.' Draco said, and kissed Voldemort softly on the lips, so

relieved that Voldemort had not been angry with him about the
scars.

Wanting to cheer Draco up and to lighten the mood, Voldemort

asked,

'So, tell me how it is that you managed to get here today? How on
earth did you get away from school?' Voldemort imagined that Draco
had maybe escaped from a Hogsmede visit.

Draco smiled. He had been made to confess that Potter had beaten
him in a fight, but now he got to talk about a triumph!

'There's a vanishing cabinet…' He began. 'In the room of

requirement. You know about the room of requirement…?' He asked.
Voldemort smiled. Young people think they invented everything!

'Yes love! It was there when I was at Hogwarts too.'

Draco blushed. Rare moments like this made him aware that
Voldemort was much older than he was, and even without all the
other factors which made it 'wrong', their relationship would still be
controversial! Draco wondered just what age Voldemort actually was.
He had never asked him.

'The cabinet is twinned with one at Borgin & Burkes. The one at
Hogwarts was broken, but I fixed it.' He said the last few words in a
nonchalant manner, as if it had been nothing at all.

Voldemort was suitably impressed.

'That's very impressive, Draco!' He exclaimed. 'You must be very

clever to have fixed a broken vanishing cabinet and make it safe to
use.'

Draco glowed with pride.

'I just really hate being stuck there with no way out.' He said
honestly.

It was Voldemort's turn to lean in and kiss him. He cupped his face
and gently lifted his chin, looking into Draco's eyes.

'You are quite amazing.' He said confidently, and Draco's heart

swelled.

'I will have to go back before 9am tomorrow morning.' Draco warned.
'Otherwise they will realise I'm not there.'

Voldemort glanced over at the clock at the end of the room.

'That still gives us 10 hours before you will have to leave.' He said
with a smile. 'That's plenty of time.'
And with that, they melted into an adoring embrace and a deep,
passionate kiss.

Some hours later, Draco lay sleeping, naked now, as was

Voldemort's wish. But he might be cold, so the Dark Lord covered
him with a blanket and, not for the first time, he watched Draco
sleep.

It was never meant to be like this, but, there was something to be

said for actually talking to Draco from time to time. Draco was clearly
intelligent, more so than Voldemort had first assumed. Besides this,
he had learnt a lot about Draco this evening, really got an insight into
Draco's life away from him.

Draco fought with Potter. Voldemort didn't know why this surprised
him so much, he knew Draco could be scrappy at times, but it was
strange to think he actually fought with someone. He had actually
attacked Potter, because he hated him. He had fixed the vanishing
cabinet. Had laboured over it, despite the impression he had wanted
to give, it would not have been easy. He had fixed it because he
wanted to come to here. Wanted it desperately.

Voldemort glanced at Draco's porcelain face, pure and angelic, yet

he was driven by passion and desire. How could Draco look so much
like ice when clearly he was made of fire?

Laying down beside him, Voldemort knew he felt feelings for Draco
that he never intended to feel.
Chapter 33
Sitting alone in his room, Snape stared into the fire, brooding. A
chalice of red wine held loosely in one hand, he mused over
thoughts that troubled him.

Draco's feelings for Voldemort, they were problematic to Snape. He

had been delighted to be back on good terms with Draco, and with a
new clarity of feeling towards him, but there were problems too.
Snape was, of course, a double agent.

Snape had assumed, perhaps rightly in the very first instances, that
Draco was Voldemort's lover simply because he had no choice. He
assumed that any consent that Draco may have given, had been
forced, and that Draco was being used against his will. After the
Septum Sempra incident, when Draco had asked to be taken to the
Dark Lord, Snape was compelled to consider that Draco's
'relationship' with Voldemort may have been consensual after all. Of
course, Draco's 'consent' didn't make it right. Even if he hadn't simply
been frightened into giving it, there was the age gap to consider. And
the fact that Draco was 15 when the affair began, and so therefore
was not old enough to give consent anyway.

However it had come about, Draco undeniably had 'feelings' for the
Dark Lord now, and this meant he had a loyalty towards him. A
loyalty which Snape did not have.

Snape had known Draco since his childhood and had always seen in
Draco a huge capacity for love, devotional love, love that was fierce,
strong and determined. It was something he felt they had in
common. Both from families where, for one reason or another, love
was not freely shown and violence was a feature. Snape noticed that
Draco, like himself, harboured a deep seated need to be loved and
to lavish his fervent affections onto another, whether or not it was
deserved, whether or not it was returned. If Draco loved Voldemort,
he would be entirely loyal to him at all costs. Draco would most likely
end up dead. Just like everyone Snape ever let himself care about.
This had gone far enough, something needed to be done.

Snape tracked down Dumbledore pacing in his study.

'It's rather late for a social call, Severus.' He headmaster remarked

as he offered Snape a drink. 'I sense that something is troubling
you.'

Thanking him, Snape took a glass of fire whiskey.

'It's Draco. Malfoy.' He added, not wanting to sound over familiar with
the boy.

'Ah, yes.' Replied Dumbledore. 'A very troubled young man. But tell
me, what is it about Draco Malfoy that is troubling you?' He asked.

'I am concerned for him, headmaster.' Snape continued. 'I fear he is

in a 'situation' which is not entirely his own fault, one in which he is
out of his depth.'

'Do you, Severus, believe as Harry does, that Draco is a death

eater? Or are you alluding to something else?' Dumbledore asked.

Snape was somewhat taken aback by this question.

'I do not know to what you are referring.' He said simply. 'Potter is
paranoid and delusional if he thinks that Draco is a death eater.
There is no sign of the dark mark upon him, that much was clear
when he was in the hospital wing last week. And I do not know what
other situation you can mean.'

'Draco's relationship with Lord Voldemort.' Dumbledore said simply

and calmly.

Snape stood in shocked silence for a moment.

'You… know about that?' He asked, unsure how Dumbledore could

possibly have this knowledge.
'I was not sure.' The headmaster replied. 'But I'm afraid I rather
suspected something of this nature was occurring when Draco
returned to school at the start of his 5th year. He seemed different
somehow, and Poppy told me he had come to her because he was
having nightmares. Nightmares he was ashamed to talk about.'

'Yes.' Said Snape, coldly. 'He came to me about that too when she
refused to help him.' He paused. 'Headmaster, if you suspected
Draco was being abused by the Dark Lord, why in the name of
Merlin did you not do something about it?'

Snape knew he probably shouldn't be, but he was genuinely

shocked that Dumbledore had allowed this to happen if he had
suspected it was going on.

'Maybe for the same reasons you didn't do anything about it,
Severus. And maybe for other reasons too. I had no proof, only
suspicions. You are the one who could have come to me and asked
for help on his behalf, are you not?'

Snape was not sure if he felt angry, or guilty after Dumbledore's

words. Why hadn't he gone to him for help?

'At first I had hoped it was simply a rumour invented to taunt Draco's
father.' Snape responded. 'By the time I had evidence of it, it was too
late.'

The first time Snape had witnessed Draco and Voldemort together
had been at the meeting where he had been asked to 'join' them. By
that point, Draco had been 'trained' by Voldemort, as Snape
understood it. It would have been too late to simply 'rescue' him.

'Too late, how?' Dumbledore asked him.

'I fear that however frightened and bullied Draco was in the early
days, he, well… He no longer feels that way.' Snape said bluntly. 'I
believe he is quite devoted to the Dark Lord. I believe he has been
coerced into having feelings for him.'
'And this troubles you?'

'YES!' Snapped Snape. 'Yes, it troubles me. Draco will end up

putting himself in danger for the Dark Lord. I know you don't like him,
Albus, but Draco doesn't deserve to die!'

Dumbledore sighed.

'I have no particular dislike of Draco, Severus. In fact, in light of

these revelations, I feel a certain empathy towards him.' Dumbledore
paused, staring out of the window into the inky night sky for a
moment. 'Draco is bright enough to know his own mind and can
devote his affections where ever he will. I hope for his sake, this is
simply a childish infatuation, feelings that will pass once Lord
Voldemort is defeated, and not something more. If that is all it is,
Draco will recover and go on to live his life. If it is real love he feels,
then I deeply pity him. We do not chose who we love, and Draco's
life would certainly be empty after Voldemort's death…'

'If Draco lives at all!' Snape interjected. 'If he doesn't end up killed
before he even comes of age!'

'As may be the fate of any of our students, Severus. These are dark
times, and you and I know I will not be here much longer to offer
protection to them.'

Snape sighed.

'Perhaps we should have acted sooner for Draco, and I have no

doubt that he must have suffered a great deal and been very
frightened, but I think you are accurate when you say it is too late.'
Dumbledore continued. 'Draco is unlikely to accept any help now, but
we will, of course, protect him in whatever ways we can. Prevent him
from doing anything stupid and shield him from harm where possible,
but I am afraid he is not my main concern.'

Snape nodded curtly, knowing exactly which student was the

headmasters main concern, and feeling it all rather unfair. He left
Dumbledore's study and returned to his own rooms. Draco, it
seemed, would end up either broken hearted or dead, and there was
nothing anyone could do about it.
Chapter 34
'He's so clever. And beautiful. And Charming. And gloriously
submissive…' Voldemort thought to himself. He hated being away
from Draco, especially when he thought of the danger Draco might
be in, from the likes of Potter and Gods only knew who else in that
shambles of a school. 'Tie Draco up next time… then he can't go
back there…' Voldemort mused. Emotions didn't suit him well.

Draco had been to visit him several times via the vanishing cabinet
and a small number of the death eaters were aware of the
arrangement.

'My Lord.' Bellatrix had simpered. 'If my darling nephew can get in
and out of the school via this cabinet, surely that means, we all
can…?' Her eyes twinkled with excitement.

'Bellatrix…' Voldemort Drawled. 'Your insatiable bloodlust never

ceases to impress me. But as useful as a blind desire to torture and
kill can be, there are elements of planning involved too. We do not
move until the time is right. And that is when I give the word.'

Of course the cabinet could be used to attack the school, and it

would be. But Draco would be out of the way when the attack
happened. Narcissa could have him at the manor that weekend. It
would be near the end of the term. They could take much needed
action against Dumbledore, who was far too close to tracking down
horcruxes for Voldemort's liking. And it wouldn't hurt to let the death
eaters have a little fun at the same time, provided Draco was safely
out of the way of course. Bellatrix and Grayback would particularly
enjoy this mission, and tactically, it was time to make the death
eaters presence felt.

He visited the manor and had a rare one to one conversation with
Narcissa. He greeted her a little more kindly than he would have
done in a more public setting. He instructed her to bring Draco home
on Thursday.

'Bring him home and keep him here with you. I shall not send for him
to come to me. An attack is to be made on the school, and therefore
Draco will be safest if he is here with you.' He told her clearly.

'Yes, my Lord.' Narcissa replied. Voldemort turned to leave. Seconds

before he apparated she added,

'Thank you, my Lord.'

Voldemort nodded curtly and vanished without another word.

Back at the Riddle house, Wormtail sulked over the lack of success
he had had with his plan to get rid of Draco. The brat had made no
real attempt to kill Dumbledore, and Voldemort seemed fonder of him
than ever. Wormtail was not allowed to see Draco in the flesh very
often. Voldemort was still suspicious of how he had taunted him in
the summer. But Wormtail had heard them together from time to
time. Aside from how distasteful he found it to have to listen to Draco
moaning like a bitch while Voldemort fucked him, it was more
troublesome to Wormtail to hear other aspects of their relationship.
He heard them talking, even heard them laughing together
sometimes, and it was this that worried him.

Bellatrix was preparing to leave after checking in for instructions,

only she and Greyback were in the entrance hall. This was probably
the best chance Wormtail was going to get…

'Madam Lestrange!' He called in as charming a voice as he could

muster. Bellatrix turned round and her lips pursed when she saw
who it was that dare address her.

'My Lady…' Wormtail continued, scurrying over to her. 'I wonder if I

might have a moment of your time?'

'What is it, Wormtail?' She sighed crossly.

'Your nephew has become something of a regular visitor to this
house, my Lady.' Wormtail commented, knowing full well that Bella
was insanely jealous about this. 'I am not sure he is entirely worthy
of the privileges he is being given.'

Bellatrix's eyes blazed as she glared at him.

'Of course he's not worthy of it!' She snapped. 'What business is it of
yours?'

Greyback, who had been listening, replied,

'Maybe he's jealous, Bella. Either he wants that little boy for himself,
or perhaps he sees himself in Draco's place…?'

Bellatrix and Greyback laughed, and Wormtail smiled, despite the

fact he was fuming inside and wished Greyback would leave so he
could talk to Bellatrix alone.

'I simply want the mission to succeed.' Wormtail said coolly. 'I am not
sure it is good for the Dark Lord to be so distracted. If, by some
mistake, Draco was in school on the night of the attack, well…
accidents do happen…' He grinned.

'You're an idiot.' Replied Bellatrix crossly. 'Are you suggesting one of

us 'accidently' kills Draco? What kind of a death wish do you have?
Stop waiting my time!'

'Yeah.' Greyback supported. 'As much as I'd like to get my claws into
him, I'd no sooner harm that boy than I would that bloody great
snake! I've no desire to experience a slow and torturous death,
thanks very much!' He turned to leave. 'I will see you later, Bella.
This idiot has nothing useful to say!'

He left, and Bellatrix looked as though she was going to do the

same. Wormtail grabbed her arm. She looked at his hand as though
a disgusting insect that had just landed on her.
'How dare you touch me?' She growled, and went to reach for her
wand.

'My Lady, please, listen!' Wormtail implored her. 'I have a plan in
motion to get that brat out of the way for good. Everyone knows that
the Dark Lord would be benefit from a better companion.' He smiled
suggestively. 'Once he comes to power he is sure to realise that he
needs someone beside him who is as ruthless and brilliant as he
is… And I can think of few who are…' He simpered.

Bellatrix still did not want to listen, but what he implied, and the hope
it inspired in her bought Wormtail a few more minutes of her time.

'What do you mean, 'get him out of the way'?' She asked. Wormtail
smiled.

'You realise the Dark Lord, rather misguidedly, prizes him for his
innocence…?' Wormtail began. Bellatrix scoffed.

'Innocence? What rubbish! I've heard all about the things that filthy
little slut does for the Dark Lord's pleasure! He's about as far from
innocent as you can get!'

'He has never killed, my Lady.' Wormtail grinned. 'His soul is still
untainted.'

'Why would that please the Dark Lord?' Bellatrix barked.

'I can't fathom it.' Said Wormtail. 'But that is what makes Draco
different from the rest of us. Makes him a frivolous diversion. I am
sure there is no strength of feeling on the Dark Lord's part, and he
can hardly have any respect for the boy, of course!'

Bellatrix nodded.

'Draco is merely a novelty for him.' Wormtail concluded. 'Of course, if

he was to kill someone, then he'd be no different to anyone else. The
Dark Lord would no longer prize him above those who are clearly
more worthy of his attentions.'

'How can you be sure of this?' Bellatrix asked.

'I can't be sure, but the boy has no real special qualities, so I can
think of nothing else to explain it. It would be of benefit to all
concerned if he was out of the picture, either because the Dark Lord
has tired of him and no longer thinks him 'special', or because he is
killed.'

'There's no one amongst us who would be foolish enough to harm

the Dark Lord's property!' Bellatrix retorted.

'No, of course not.' Wormtail agreed. 'But we won't have to. Albus
Dumbledore is going to kill Draco.'

Now Wormtail had Bellatrix's full attention!

'What did you say?' She gasped.

Wormtail smiled. He knew he should really keep his plans to himself,

but he so wanted to boast and to impress Bellatrix, he couldn't help
himself.

'I told Draco back in the summer that if he is to avoid being cast
aside by the Dark Lord, then he must prove himself to be devoted to
him by vanquishing one of his enemies. I frightened the boy into
believing that he must kill Dumbledore.' Wormtail said proudly.

Bellatrix did not want to be impressed.

'Well he hasn't done it yet, has he? He has been at school all year
and hasn't done it.' She retorted.

'He's frightened. He needs a little encouragement. If he is there on

the night of the attack, it will be easy to goad him into it. Of course he
will most probably fail and be killed himself. Either way, he won't be
the golden boy in the eyes of the Dark Lord anymore.' Wormtail
smiled, showing a row of rotting teeth.

'Hummmmm…' Bella mused. If nothing else happened, Draco would

get into trouble and that would result in him being out of favour, and
yes, he probably would be killed, which would be even better.

'Your sister has been told to bring the boy home from school on
Thursday for his own safety. If we were to tell her there had been a
change of plan and she has to bring him home on Friday instead, we
can take care of this little problem once and for all.'

Bellatrix smiled at Wormtail. He may be a disgusting object, but he

was cleverer than she had thought. She was impressed in spite of
herself.
Chapter 35
Without a moment's hesitation or guilt, Bellatrix 'informed' Narcissa
of the change of day that she was to bring Draco home. Narcissa
was delighted at the that thought of a day with her son, safe in the
knowledge that Draco would not be 'sent for' by the Dark Lord.

Draco, who had not been able to independently escape Hogwarts for
a week, was feeling a little twitchy. He did not want to just turn up at
Voldemort's house all the time, uninvited, in case he was being too
demanding. He wanted to be summoned, he wanted to be asked for.
That way he knew he was wanted. In school, he made a conscious
effort to reconnect with Pansy and Blaise, in order to keep himself
distracted.

It was late. The three of them had been outside, having a sly
cigarette and a drink of Fire Whiskey from a hip flask which Pansy
had hidden in her bra. Draco took a drink from it in spite of this fact,
and Blaise, because of it. They had talked and laughed, and Draco
realised it had been a long time since he had had this type of fun
with his friends. He had really missed them. The mood was cheerful
as they turned into the long corridor which would take them towards
the common room, but their bubble of light heartedness was about to
burst in a most dramatic way.

All three of them stopped in their tracks. They could hear screaming.
Pansy grabbed both Draco and Blaise's hands. Screaming wasn't
uncommon at Hogwarts. It could be a spell gone wrong that could be
easily fixed by a professor… Maybe Peeves was terrorising first
years again? Perhaps that oaf Hagrid had let some horrible creature
escape…? This screaming sounded more serious than that. There
were several people screaming, there were voices shouting, children
and adults, and people were running.

Draco was not sure whether to run towards or away from the noise,
but Blaise and Pansy both ran into the school to see what the
commotion was. Draco was carried along with them.

They rounded the corner and were horrified by the sight before them.
A full blown battle was taking place. Spells were flying, people were
hurt and no teacher or adult was stopping it. They had merely split
seconds to realise that some of the people fighting WERE adults.

Draco realised who they were and instantly dived on top of his two
friends, knocking them back into the shelter of an alcove, behind a
suit of armour. He peered out, making sure they stayed behind him.
What the hell was going on?

'Death eaters.' He whispered with urgency to Pansy and Blaise, and

Pansy clamped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from
screaming.

'Fucking hell!' Blaise exclaimed, gripping hold of Pansy's wrist.

'You have to get back to the common room.' Draco hissed at them.
'Look, we'll make a dash for it while they are distracted.'

Pansy looked terrified as a torturous scream was heard from down

the hall as a huge hairy figure leapt down from the stairs and slashed
at a young Ravenclaw girl.

Draco was not sure why this was happening, but was fairly confident
that the death eaters wouldn't attack him. And therefore the best
chance Blaise and Pansy had of remaining unharmed was to be with
him or safely in the Slytherin dormitory. He dragged them to their feet
and keeping close to the wall they ran towards the stairs to the
common room.

The limp body of the 3rd year Ravenclaw girl flopped at their feet
and Pansy screamed for real this time as she was the girls bloody,
slashed face, her eyes wide and glacial, staring coldly into infinity.

Pansy's scream attracted the attention of Greyback, who instantly

turned on them, poised to attack. Adrenalin pumping, Draco threw
himself between Pansy and Greyback, hoping to the Gods this
attack was being lead by Voldemort and was not some kind of
mutiny.

Greyback stopped in his tracks when he saw Draco, and took a step
back. Draco had never been so relieved! He ushered the utterly
gobsmacked Pansy and Blaise past him.

'Get to the Slytherin common room. Get as many people there as

you can. Stay there!' He instructed. They followed the command
without hesitation.

Draco turned to ask Greyback what was happening, but he was

gone, down the hallway and was upon another student. Draco didn't
want to watch. There was blood everywhere. He had to step back
over the body of the Ravenclaw girl. He wanted to find Snape.
Snape might have some answers!

The fight scene was chaos. Draco couldn't follow what was
happening. It all seemed to happen too fast, but yet in slow motion at
the same time. He ran, dodging spells, unsure which side was
throwing them. Suddenly a bony hand grabbed his shoulder and
dragged him into a small store room where two dark figures held
him.

'Darling Draco!' A sarcastic, scratchy voice drawled. Draco froze as if

he had been petrified. It was Aunty Bella.

'I'm so glad we found you!' She laughed.

'What are you doing here?' He asked, a little breathless from

running.

'Attacking the school!' She laughed. 'It's what we do, sweetie, didn't
you know?' She cackled with delight. 'And it's all thanks to you and
your cleverness at fixing that cabinet. And we all thought you were
only good for one thing! But it turns out you have a brain as well!'
Draco's head swam and his stomach churned. The death eaters had
attacked the castle via the vanishing cabinet. HIS vanishing cabinet.
This was not what it was for! He was not naive enough to think that it
wouldn't have been used to access the castle by others, but he had
imagined stealth missions perhaps, not an outright bloody
massacres of students. Children were being killed. He had made this
possible. Had Voldemort commanded this? Draco felt betrayed.
Beyond that, he felt ridiculous. What possessed him to think that this
wouldn't happen?

'Don't taunt the boy, my Lady!' A second voice rasped. Wormtail

stepped forward and pushed back his hood. 'Why not run along and
enjoy yourself, Madam Bellatrix? I have something I need to discuss
with Draco, and it is of some urgency. I only hope it is not already too
late!'

Not needing to be asked twice, Bellatrix flounced from the room,

throwing a torture curse out into the hallway, hoping to hit someone
by chance. Draco stared after her, as pale as a ghost. His heart
hammering as his world seemed to crumble around him.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have pretended

for so long that he didn't know what would be required of him? He
sat around the table with these people, he had heard their stories, he
knew what went on. He had never had to see it first hand until now.
He lay beside the Dark Lord, he gave himself to him freely and
willingly. He longed for him, he had feelings for him that were
stronger than he wanted to admit. 'You are so stupid! This is what
they do. They torture people, kill them. He commands them to do it.
You have to grow up! You can't keep deluding yourself. You will have
to pick a side.' His mind was racing.

'Draco!' Wormtail grabbed him and spoke to him, face to face. Mere
inches were between them, Draco could smell Wormtails putrid
breath with every word he spat.

'You have wasted too much time already! The Dark Lord has ordered
this attack on the castle so that one of us can dispatch Albus
Dumbledore for him. Had you already done it, this would not have
been necessary.'

There was a crash outside and he paused for a moment.

'You MUST act now, to save yourself and your family, Draco! This
very night he is meeting with a family who he has newly recruited,
they have a very attractive son, and a daughter. His tastes are not
limited, Draco! The Dark Lord has been very keen that they attend
meetings…'

Wormtail paused again, to give time for this suggestion to sink in. He
didn't need to give it any time. Draco was instantly close to tears,
Wormtail may as well have hit him with the Cruciatus curse.

'It may not be too late. Hurry to the Headmasters tower. If you can be
the one to find him, to kill him, you may yet convince the Dark Lord
of your devotion and of your value. Go! Now! You will not get another
chance!'

With that he shoved the terrified Draco out into the hallway. Draco
was so confused and disorientated at first he didn't even know which
way to turn to get to Dumbledore's office. It wasn't somewhere he
had been very often. Collecting his thoughts, he turned and ran.

He was going to die, he was almost resigned to that. Voldemort no

longer wanted him. He was not special and he was foolish to ever
have believed he was. Voldemort had used him. Not just for the sex,
he could almost have coped with that. No, he had used his emotions.
Draco had wanted him so much he had found a secret way in and
out of Hogwarts so that they could be together and this was how it
was used! While Draco was watching his schoolmates being killed,
Voldemort, the one person he would have done anything for, was at
this very moment, seducing someone else. 'The one person he
would have done anything for…?' Anything? Would Draco kill for
Voldemort? It seemed to matter very little now. Now that Voldemort
no longer wanted him.
Bursting into Dumbledore's study, Draco wondered how a broken
heart could beat as fast as his was currently doing. He had no plan.
He knew the spell, but he had never performed it. He didn't know if
he could. And all that rubbish Wormtail had told him about
Dumbledore being a frail old man, Draco knew this was not the case.
Dumbledore would probably kill him. Draco didn't care. What was
there to live for?

'Expelliarmus!' He gasped, disarming Dumbledore the moment he

arrived in the room. Wand raised he stared, wide eyed at the
headmaster, unsure what to do next.

Dumbledore spoke calmly to him, asked what he wanted, and how

he had fixed the cabinet… but something was not right. The room
was dark but Draco got the sense that someone else was there too.
Why they didn't rush forward to help Dumbledore, he didn't know, but
he could almost feel another person hiding somewhere in the
shadows.

The trouble was, he couldn't let his guard down and try to feel their
thoughts. Dumbledore was as good a Legilimens as you could ever
hope to meet and it was taking all Draco's concentration to stop him
entering his mind already, without opening up to try to 'hear'
someone else.

'You have no idea what I have done, what I'm capable of!' Draco
snapped, when Dumbledore suggested that he did not have the
character of a death eater.

'It isn't your fault, Draco, you are not to blame for what has happened
to you…' Dumbledore's voice broke into Draco's thoughts.

This confirmed to Draco that there was someone else in the room,
otherwise Dumbledore would speak out loud to him. Why
communicate mentally if they were alone?

'I have to kill you, or he's going to kill me…' Draco sobbed, although
it was not the thought of death that frightened him.
Dumbledore offered him help. 'The order can keep you safe…' He
promised.

Heartbroken and confused, Draco did not know what to believe or

even what he wanted to believe. Tears streamed down his cheeks
and his hand trembled. When he had entered the room he had
almost hoped that Dumbledore would kill him.

The door flew open and Snape, Bellatrix and 2 other death eaters
burst into the room.

'Do it Draco!' Bellatrix roared.

Sprit broken, Draco began to lower his wand. He could not do it, he
was not like his aunt Bellatrix. He was defeated. His friends may
have been injured, his lover no longer wanted him, school children
had been killed and it was his fault. They could take him to
Voldemort, tell him he was a failure. Voldemort could kill him. What
better way to say goodbye? ' That was always how this was going to
end.' Draco thought.

Slowly he lowered his hand, staring into Dumbledore's eyes like a

rabbit in the headlights of a car when Dumbledore's calm voice
broke into his thoughts once more.

'We cannot chose who we love, Draco, but we can always chose our
own actions.'

Draco frowned, trying to work out what Dumbledore meant by this…

'Avada Kedavra!' A firm, icy voice said, and a shot of green light
leapt from Snapes wand and hit the headmaster in the chest. Draco
could not believe his eyes. Snape had done what he could not.
Snape had murdered Dumbledore!

Then everything became a blur. Snape grabbed Draco's arm and

they ran. They, and the other death eaters too.
They ran through the school, the cabinet was not a quick enough
escape route, they had to get outside of the wards and apparate.
They ran through the grounds. Potter was chasing them. Was it him
who had been in the tower? Why hadn't he done anything?

Draco ran with the death eaters, but he knew he did not belong with
them. How long before they had the pleasure of torturing and killing
him? Was he their prisoner now? He had nowhere else to go.
Nowhere was safe. So he ran with them. The one person there he
thought he could have trusted, Snape, had just murdered a man in
cold blood right before his eyes. The whole world was crazy. In the
space of 15 minutes he had gone from laughing with his school
friends, to being on the run with a group of killers, who would
probably turn on him before the day was out. If he survived this day
and lived to tell the tale, this would be the day that his life turned
upside down. Nothing could ever make things how they had been
before.

Snape yelled a few parting shots at Potter and grabbed Draco's arm.
They lurched forward and there was a high pitched sound as they
disapparated away from the scene of the crime, away from
Hogwarts, away from the last safe place Draco knew.
Chapter 36
With so many of them apparating together, the arrival was messy.
Fleeing from an attack, they appeared in the room with the long
table, stumbling, and falling unceremoniously over one another, out
of breath after the chase, flushed and sweaty. Bellatrix looked
thoroughly exhilarated and Wormtail looked disgustingly pleased
with himself, especially when he noticed the terrified Draco beside
Snape.

Voldemort sat alone at the head of the long table, in his throne-like
chair.

'Where is the beautiful family he was meeting with…? Draco

wondered, looking about him, dazed and confused, by many things.

'It is done, my Lord!' Bellatrix cried joyously. 'It is done!'

'It is done, by Severus's hand.' Wormtail added.

Voldemort nodded. He had not yet noticed Draco as the death eaters
were still something of a disordered rabble. Snape stepped forward.

'That is so, my Lord.' He confirmed. 'Dumbledore is dead.'

There was a cheer from the crowd.

'Killed by one of your many devoted followers, my Lord.' Bellatrix

said with a smarmy, sickly smile.

'Not by the one who had the first chance to do it, though, my Lord.'
Wormtail added. 'One who caught him off guard, and had him
defenceless for some time before Severus arrived.'

'What are you talking about, Wormtail?' Barked Voldemort,

displeased by Wormtail's cryptic ramblings.
Wormtail stood back and grabbed Draco, thrusting him forward.

'Draco!' Said Wormtail triumphantly. 'Draco had Dumbledore at his

mercy, stood before him, wand drawn! But he would not harm the old
man, my Lord. Such is his lack of devotion to you!'

On setting eyes on Draco, and hearing this news, Voldemort leap to

his feet and rushed forward, grabbing Draco's arm, his eyes a blaze
with anger.

'Leave!' He commanded the death eaters. 'Leave, and celebrate the

victory however you will.'

They looked a little taken a back, except Bellatrix and Wormtail, who
exchanged devious smiles, imagining how Draco would be tortured
after they left.

'Go! Leave us!' Voldemort roared, and his followers obeyed with
haste.

The room empty he turned to Draco. His ferocious red eyes and his
ragged breathing betrayed his rage. Draco could only once recall
seeing him look so angry, the night he had first taken him from the
manor. Draco was very frightened, and knew he had good reason to
be. He had failed the Dark Lord, just like his father had done. He
would be punished for his failure. He was punishing himself already.
'You don't deserve his attentions any more, you never did! You have
no right to be with him if you can't do what is required of you. You
deserve any punishment you get!'

'What the HELL were you doing!?' Voldemort shouted, grabbing hold
of Draco's shoulders and shaking him so hard that he couldn't
possibly have answered, even if he had known what to say.

'What the fuck possessed you to confront Dumbledore?' Voldemort

shook with anger and fear at the very thought. The only wizard he
had ever feared, in conflict with the only one he had ever cared
about, he struggled to breath as he imagined what could have
happened. Draco was not supposed to have even been there!

Draco could not speak. Somehow all the trauma of the night so far
hit him all at once. He opened him mouth to try to give a response
but no sound came. His eyes wide with fright, he stared at
Voldemort. Voldemort was so angry, but Draco was confused, more
so than ever… It didn't seem like Voldemort was angry that he hadn't
killed Dumbledore…

Exasperated by Draco's silence, Voldemort raised his hand and

struck Draco across the face. He struck him hard and the only
reason Draco remained standing was because Voldemort still had
hold of one of his shoulders. Draco would have screamed in pain,
but he couldn't make any sound.

'I told you to keep safe!' Voldemort shouted at him. 'After Potter
injured you, I told you to keep safe. You PROMISED you would! You
disobeyed me!'

He struck Draco again, this time knocking him to the floor. Draco was
in so much pain now, he could hardly think straight. He felt dizzy and
sick. He could hear Voldemort's words, but was unable to answer
him, as he couldn't form a sentence or order his thoughts.

He scrabbled on the floor and tried to stand up. He looked up at

Voldemort who towered above him. He had his wand drawn!

'At last.' Draco thought. The pain in his head was so intense that he
thought death would at least release him from it. 'I hope it will be
quick.' Tears filled his eyes. If he was going to be killed, he wanted it
to be by Voldemort.

Voldemort grappled with his anger, with his fears, and with other
emotions he was by no means accustomed to. He did not want to do
this, but Draco had disobeyed him, he needed to be punished. How
else would he learn? If he wasn't punished he might put himself in
danger again. He could end up… Voldemort couldn't bear to think of
it.

'Crucio!' He shouted, and a jet of green light hit the trembling boy in
front of him.

Draco had been hit by the cruciatus curse before, but not like this.
Voldemort could cast this spell with a force hither to unknown by
Draco. He had never known pain like this. His whole body seemed at
once to be on fire, internally, externally. Every millimetre of his skin
felt like it was being slashed by razors. Every muscle spasmed,
every internal organ convulsed. Blunt spikes drilled into his brain. His
whole body felt like it was being ripped apart. Draco had no concept
of how long the spell lasted, it seemed to go on and on forever. He
writhed on the floor, his voice returned to him and he screamed,
sobbed and choked in agony. Then the pain became so great he
was hardly able to draw breath and he felt himself begin to suffocate.

The spell was weak by Voldemort's standards. He did not want to

cast it, but how else could he make him learn? He felt his spell falter,
he could not hold it, it broke his heart to have to punish Draco.
Voldemort lowered his wand, gasping for breath himself.

It was a moment or two before Draco regained enough cohesive

thought to realise that Voldemort had stopped torturing him, and that
he was somehow still alive. He tried to move, he managed to raise
his head ever so slightly.

'He could have killed you!' Voldemort cried, choked with emotion.
'Don't you realise? He could have fucking killed you!'

Draco tried to make sense of the words and remember to what they
related. Some strength returning, he managed to get to his hands
and knees. He glanced at Voldemort. He no longer had his wand
drawn.

'I told you to stay safe, you promised you would!' Voldemort shouted
at him as he staggered to his feet.
'I'm… sorry…' Draco stammered.

'What happened, what did you do?' Voldemort asked, still shaking
with anger and wanting to know exactly how the situation had come
about.

'They attacked the school…' Draco answered shakily, recalling

events slowly. 'I went to his study and I disarmed him…' Draco's
head swam and he scrambled for more memories.

Voldemort reeled in horror. Draco had gone there on purpose! It

hadn't been some kind of accidental chance encounter. He had
sought him out! Had gone looking for him, deliberately!

'How could you be so stupid!' Voldemort screamed and he lunged at

Draco, right hand raised and struck him harder than ever before. He
could not recall ever having been so angry and afraid.

At the force of the impact, Draco fell back down, but he fell badly,
spinning round as he did. He was aware at first of a great pain where
Voldemort had hit him, then of a second as he landed. The throne-
like chair on which Draco had caught his head, now obscured him
slightly from Voldemort's view as he lay on the floor.

Adrenalin coursing through him, and his heart rate racing, Voldemort
tried desperately to calm himself. Draco must have some
explanation for this. If he could only stay calm enough to find it out…
He looked down at Draco laying on the ground. Draco was not
moving.

Draco was not moving. Not at all. Not making any sound, not a sob,
or a drawing of breath. Voldemort's heart stopped still. Draco was
NOT MOVING.

Suddenly anger disappeared and was replaced by pure cold dread

and disbelief. This could not be happening.
Voldemort rushed to Draco's side, Draco was face down on the floor
and Voldemort gave a shriek of horror when he saw the pool of blood
which was flowing from Draco's head, caused by the impact with the
chair.

He flung himself down beside the boy and pulled Draco into his
arms. Draco's eyes were closed, he was losing blood rapidly.
Voldemort grabbed his wand and uttered a spell to fix the wound, to
at least prevent any further blood loss, but was it too late? Healing
spells had never been his forte.

His robes were soaked with Draco's blood and he held Draco close
in a desperate embrace. His eyes felt like they were burning, his face
was wet… He was crying. Voldemort could not remember crying
before.

'Oh, God's Draco, please don't be dead!' He sobbed into Draco's

hair, kissing him on the head over and over.

'Please wake up, Draco please! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry my love.
Please, please don't die. Please, not like this, I need you, please.' He
gasped incoherently, rocking Draco back and forth in his arms. He
would not let go of him. If he didn't let go, he could believe that there
was a chance that Draco would take a breath… any moment now…

Draco felt as though he was being held underwater. He could not

breath in, he could not see and he could not make sense of anything
around him. He could not move, could not feel his body. But he could
hear a voice, talking to him, pleading with him… It was a voice he
recognised, it was someone he wanted to talk to…

He gasped deeply, drawing a frantic breath the way a swimmer does

when they surface after a long time under the water. Panic stricken
and nearly starved of oxygen, he took deep, violent breaths of air.

Voldemort hardly dared to believe that his prayers would be

answered, and he stared in wonder as Draco drew breath. But it was
clear that Draco was not yet out of danger, not by a long way.
He tried to remain calm. Stroking Draco's hair back he whispered,

'It's ok, Draco, my darling. It's ok. Stay with me, I will get help.'

Laying in Voldemort's arms, Draco opened his eyes. He was

disorientated, as if he had just come out of a deep sleep, but at the
same time he felt like he had not slept for months and greatly
needed to let go of consciousness for a while. Opening his eyes, he
saw Voldemort above him. He was crying.

Draco did not know why Voldemort was crying. He did could not
recall why he was in such pain, why he was on the floor, where they
were… but he knew it was Voldemort who was holding him and he
gave a faint smile, which took great effort.

This prompted a deep sob from Voldemort, who held him yet more
tightly.

'You'll be ok, honey, just stay with me. I am so sorry, please forgive
me Draco!' Voldemort wept.

Then Draco knew he was dying, in his mind he was sure of it. He
had thought he was going to die after Harry had hit him with the
Septum Sempra spell, but this was different. He was ready for it now.
He was with the one person he needed to be with and so somehow it
was all ok. He could feel his consciousness slipping away, could feel
blankets of mist creeping in and wrapping around him… But there
was still something he needed to say.

Summoning every last scrap of his strength his lips parted and he
looked up into Voldemort's eyes and managed to whisper softly,

'I love you.'

before his head fell back and his eyes gently fluttered closed.
Chapter 37
Voldemort screamed and held Draco tightly against his body. Draco
could not die! Voldemort was the Dark Lord, he would not let it
happen! If there was any kind of bargain that could be made, with
any kind of deity who could help Draco, he would make it. He would
sell the last piece of his soul to save Draco's life if had to!

Nagini approached him rapidly and hissed at him loudly. She moved
her face in close to Draco's, her tongue darting over his skin. She
hissed at Voldemort again, who understood her and grabbing his
wand, used the dark mark to summon the best healer he knew.

Snape arrived in minutes, and by then, Voldemort had carried Draco

to the large black bed and laid him down gently.

Nagini had correctly indentified that he was still breathing, but only
faintly. She could feel his life source, his body heat, it was fading, but
it was not too late, not yet.

'Oh dear Gods!' Snape exclaimed, as he set eyes on Draco. Pale as

moonlight after losing so much blood, and covered in black bruises
about his face, it was no wonder he was hardly breathing.

Snape rushed to his side. He had no time to lose mourning over how
this must have happened, and berating himself for abandoning
Draco to this fate. Action was needed NOW in order to save the boy.

Kneeling beside the bed, Snape began to whisper a complex series

of spells over Draco which he hoped would hold off any further
damage. Draco needed healing potions desperately and Snape
carried plenty with him, but unless he could get Draco conscious and
something like stable, he could not get him to take a potion at all. He
worked in near silence, Voldemort looking on, powerless.
Snape softly uttered healing words. He had killed one man tonight
and now he had to save another's life. It felt like a kind of penance,
perhaps saving Draco would redeem him for having had to kill a
friend.

It was gone two in the morning when Draco began to stir fitfully.

'Ssssshhhh, Relax.' Snape tried to calm him.

Voldemort, who had been pacing back and forth anxiously, was at
the bedside in seconds.

'He is beginning to become more stable.' Snape said in a hushed

voice. 'But I do not yet know the extent of his injuries. I have been
dealing primarily with the loss of blood from the head wound which
you healed yourself, but I need to know, my Lord, if Draco sustained
other injuries tonight.'

Voldemort did not want to answer this, but if it would help save Draco
then he would have to do so.

'The other injuries you can see…' He indicated to the extensive

bruising.

'This convulsing, my Lord… Has he sustained any internal trauma,

heart, lungs, brain…?' Snape prompted.

Voldemort looked down at the floor.

'The Cruciatus curse.' He said quietly and turned away as he could

not bear to see the look of horror on Snapes face. Though it was
nothing compared to horror he felt at himself for having done this to
Draco. The last words Draco had said to him echoed in his brain
over and over. He had never had the chance to reply…

'For how long, my Lord?' Snape asked.

'A minute, maybe less.' Voldemort replied without looking at him.

'And it was a weak spell… I couldn't hold it.' He added quietly.
Rather than have to respond or acknowledge this piece of
information, Snape set to work on a new set of healing spells to treat
any internal trauma to the central nervous system which the torture
curse may have caused. Draco's convulsive shaking began to
subside.

Shortly before three, Draco's eyes opened for the first time since he
lost consciousness. Unsure of where he was or what was
happening, he looked up and saw a face he knew. It was his father's
friend, professor Snape, looking down at him.

'Where am I?' He asked weakly.

'It's ok, Draco.' Snape said calmly, leaning over him, excluding
Voldemort from his view. 'You have been injured, but you are going
to be ok. You need to take some potions.'

Draco nodded. Everything hurt. He would readily take potions!

Snape offered up vial after vial of liquid, various levels of healing

potions, all with different functions. With great effort, Draco
swallowed them, one after the other. Snape helped him to lay back
down and covered him with the blanket.

'You need to sleep now.' He said softly. 'You will probably sleep for
several hours, but that's just what you need to do. Rest, you are
going to be ok.'

Draco was asleep by the time he finished his sentence.

Voldemort would not let him leave. He insisted Snape stay in a guest
room across the hall in case he was needed.

'Go and rest, Severus.' Voldemort instructed. 'You must be well

enough to continue to heal him when he wakes.'

Snape nodded. He would not have wanted to leave even if he had

been allowed to. Draco needed more treatment, more care.
'I will watch over him.' Voldemort told Snape.

Snape was unsure about this arrangement. He would rather have

stayed in the room with Draco and watched over him himself than
have to leave Draco alone with the Dark Lord.

'He must rest completely, my Lord…' Snape began, wanting to

somehow say to Voldemort 'keep your evil hands off him!' without
earning himself similar injuries to Draco's.

'If he wakes, should I summon you?' Voldemort asked, wanting to

make it clear he had no mind to disturb Draco intentionally.

Snape listened carefully to the tone of the Dark Lord's voice. He had
never heard him speak this way, with so much concern, not even
about Nagini. What had happened here tonight after the death eaters
had left? Why had Voldemort hurt Draco so badly and then been so
desperate to save him?

'If he wakes, my Lord, he will probably be delirious and it will be best

just to calm him and settle him back to sleep. You can summon me
to do this if I am needed.' Snape offered. 'He cannot take any more
potions until tomorrow morning.'

'Thank you, Severus.' Said Voldemort, with a sincerity that Snape

had not known him capable of.

Alone in the room with Draco, Voldemort tentatively approached the

bed, hardly daring to look. He peered at the boy who lay there,
perfectly still, bruised and bloodied, and he stifled a sob of anguish
as he reflected on what he had done.

So furious had he been about the danger Draco had put himself in,
he had nearly killed him himself. His greatest fear, he had almost
brought about by his own hand. Draco was breathing softly and
lightly. Voldemort watched in silence.
'I love you…' That was what Draco had said to him. He had never
said that before. Voldemort wondered if by some miracle he would
ever say it again?

Exhausted, he lay down beside Draco, carefully, so as not to disturb

him, but he reached out one hand and rested it on one of Draco's.
Only then was he able to close his eyes and begin to drift into a light
and troubled sleep.
Chapter 38
Voldemort didn't usually dream, but he dreamt that night. Nightmares
mostly, vivid, almost waking dreams which he jarred himself out of,
never allowing himself to fall into a deep slumber. Draco, beside him,
slept comparatively easily.

Voldemort awoke from a surreal nightmare, disturbed by movement

beside him on the bed. It took him seconds to orientate himself and
remember what had happened and the significance of Draco stirring
in this way.

'Settle him back to sleep…' That's what Snape had said. Voldemort
dearly wanted to do this himself, not to have to call for Severus to
calm Draco. He wanted to reassure him himself, because if he could
then maybe there was a chance things could be ok again. A chance
that maybe Draco would forgive him and maybe, just maybe, given
time, he would say those words again…

Voldemort uttered soothing words to Draco in his sinister hissing

voice, but for some reason they did not have the desired effect and
Draco writhed and thrashed and suddenly sat bolt upright making
Voldemort jump.

'I have to fix the cabinet!' Draco exclaimed, gripping at the bed
covers anxiously. It was unclear just who he was talking to. 'I have to
go and work on it now or it'll be too late!'

Voldemort realised with horror that Draco was about to try to stand
up, and that this must be the delirium that Snape had warned about.
Quick as a flash, he took hold of Draco, gently but firmly. He sat
behind him, leaning against the headboard. He could hold Draco
with his arms and legs, Draco could lean back against him. Draco
could writhe and move but not fall or escape. And Draco wouldn't be
frightened because he couldn't see who it was who held him.
Draco tried to break out of the hold, but he was very weak.

'I have to go and fix it!' He pleaded.

'No, love. It's fixed. You don't need to fix it now, you just need to rest.'
Voldemort assured him.

'It's fixed?' Draco echoed.

'Yes love. Don't worry, go back to sleep.' Voldemort whispered. It

would be lovely if Draco would sleep like this, in his arms.

'If it's fixed then I must go to him!' Draco cried. 'I must go before it's
too late!' He wriggled, trying to get away.

Voldemort frowned.

'Too late?' He echoed. 'Before what is too late?'

'He will kill me!' Draco sobbed. 'He will kill me because I'm not clever
enough to fix it!'

'Who will kill you, Draco?' Voldemort asked, trying to sound as calm
as possible.

'The Dark Lord will kill me.' Whispered Draco. 'When he is bored of
me.'

Voldemort froze. What was possessing Draco to say these things?

'I have to kill Dumbledore…' Draco gasped, swaying a little in

Voldemort's arms.

'Why do you have to do that?' Voldemort asked. He did not like

Draco being delirious because it was frightening, but he sensed he
may be able to gain information this way that Draco might not have
told him consciously.
'I have to kill Dumbledore so that the Dark Lord knows that I am
devoted him.' Draco said softly. 'If I don't prove myself he will kill me.
He doesn't need me.' Draco broke down into tears.

Voldemort rocked him back and forth and stroked him. Where had
Draco got these ideas from? Was he simply a morbid fantasist, or
was there more to it?

'He does need you, Draco.' Voldemort said with great sincerity.

It was a few moments before Draco's crying had subsided enough

for him to speak.

'He has others.' Draco whispered. 'I have to prove that I am special
so that he won't kill me.'

Voldemort was shocked. Why did Draco think that?

'There are no others.' Voldemort said, unsure if Draco was taking

any of this conversation in, but he was responding to what was being
said, so it was worth trying to reassure him.

'There are others!' Draco exclaimed. 'And the last one, who was
given to the dementors…'

Voldemort was lost now.

'What?' He asked.

'The last boy, he was given to the dementors in the end, when the
Dark Lord was bored of him.' Draco sobbed.

'Who told you this?' Voldemort said a little sharply, deciding it was
unlikely that Draco would have entirely fabricated this story, even in
a delirious state.

'The Rat man.' Draco replied nervously.

Voldemort was so glad he was seated behind Draco so that Draco
could not see the look of violent rage that clouded his face. Wormtail.
Wormtail had tormented Draco with the idea that he would be used
and killed. He had even invented a story to frighten him. Wormtail
would regret this. Oh, by the Gods, he would regret this! But Draco
was the concern at the moment, Wormtail would have to wait…

'He's lying.' Voldemort said, as calmly as he could manage.

'He told me to kill Dumbledore.' Draco sobbed, and at last a full

confession of events tumbled from his lips. 'I don't know if I can. He
says if I don't, then the Dark Lord will think I'm useless and will kill
me. He says I have to do it and he tells me about the others that the
Dark Lord sees. I don't know if I can do it, I just don't know… But I
want to please the Dark Lord! Because, because I love him! I love
him so much! I must fix the cabinet so that I can be with him, I must!'

Draco sobbed frantically and Voldemort, feeling enraged, horrified,

mortified and furious all at once decided it was time to try to calm
Draco down.

Draco whimpered over and over that he had to be with Voldemort, he

had to go to him. Voldemort realised that this was one thing he could
do for Draco.

He moved from behind him and, keeping a firm hold of him, he sat in
front of him and looked into his eyes.

'You are with me, Love! I am here. It's all ok!' He whispered.

Draco stopped sobbing and stared at him, as if he was checking if it

was really true. Gasping in relief and delight when he realised it was.

'My Lord!' He cried. 'Oh, my Lord!' He flung himself into Voldemort's

arms. 'Take me!' He gasped needily. 'Take me, fuck me, please, I'm
yours!' He buried his face into Voldemort shoulder and gripped him
as tightly as he could with what little strength he had.
Voldemort gently laid him down and wrapped his arms around him,
pulling the blankets over them.

'It's not time for that now, love. It's time to sleep.' He replied.

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Voldemort stopped him.

'We need to sleep now, Draco love. We can do other things later, but
now we need to sleep. I will keep hold of you though, if that will make
you feel better?' Voldemort basked in delight at the thought that
Draco might feel better for his presence after everything that had
happened, even if it was only because he was delirious!

Draco turned to face him, and curled up close under his arm, head
resting on his shoulder. His breathing still a little unsteady after
crying.

Voldemort whispered softy to him.

'Shhhhhhh… It's alright.'

He repeated the words over and over again like a mantra until it
lulled them both to sleep
Chapter 39
A gentle but persistent knocking at the door awoke Voldemort the
next day. Memories of the previous evening flooding back, he
anxiously looked down at Draco who was still curled up beside him.
Draco was sleeping peacefully and although he moaned a little as
Voldemort disentangled himself from his embrace, Voldemort
whispered some reassurance and he turned and went back to sleep
untroubled.

Voldemort ushered Severus into the room.

'He slept well, only waking once.' Voldemort told him. 'He was
delirious, but I calmed him down and then he was alright.' Voldemort
tried not to sound too proud about this, although he was, very much
so.

'It will do him good to sleep a while longer.' Snape replied. 'When he
wakes, he can take the second dose of healing potions, then I
expect he will be a good deal better. By this afternoon, he may be
strong enough to get up…'

Snape had almost said 'he may be strong enough to leave…' But he
was unsure if that was what Voldemort had planned. And of course,
places where he could go would be limited after the nature of his
arrival here. Dumbledore's death would be headline news this
morning. Narcissa would know what had happened, she would either
have been taken into custody by the ministry or collected by some of
the death eaters. Snape knew not which. He would have sent word
to her that Draco was alive, but he had been so distracted by saving
Draco's life, he had not forgotten what had happened, but had not
had time to think on the consequences of it.

'I want you to stay with him.' Voldemort said, in a commanding tone.
'Stay with him, give him potions, any healing spells he may need,
anything.'
'Of course my Lord.' Snape replied.

'He may bathe, or have food if he is well enough. Whatever he

needs, see that he gets it.' Voldemort urged.

'Certainly, my Lord.' Snape assured.

'Good.' Voldemort said firmly. 'I will return later, but I'm afraid that I
have a rather pressing task to attend to.' His eyes narrowed and
glowed dangerously. 'There is someone I need to see…'

With that, he appaerated away without a glance back at the bed

where Draco lay sleeping. For this task he would suppress any of the
new found compassion and softness he had been learning from his
relationship with Draco. This task called for cold, cruel brutality.
Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, and it was a cold,
steel like rage that gripped Voldemort as he appareted, appearing in
the sitting room of a dark, derelict house.

A man was slouching in a large armchair in a casual manner, a smug

smile on his grotesque face. He jumped up in fright as Voldemort
appeared before him. Before he could open his mouth, Voldemort
hissed

'Wormtail…' His eyes filled with murderous rage.

Draco woke mid morning and Snape administered the appropriate

healing potions right away. Giving Draco time to recuperate, Snape
bought him water to drink and allowed him to finish his second glass
before he spoke.

'You are lucky to be alive this morning, Draco.' Snape said softly.

'How many life debts do I owe you now?' Draco's voice was weak,
but he smiled at Snape as he spoke.

'You don't owe me anything.' Snape sat down beside him. 'But I
would dearly like never have to save your life again. I'm fond of you,
it pains me to see you in danger or hurt.'

Draco felt oddly guilty for a person who had just been the victim of
an attack that had nearly killed him.

'I'm sorry.' He replied.

'You don't need to be sorry. I… I don't know what happened here last
night…' Snape began, but stopped, unsure what the end of that
sentence should be.

'I don't remember all of it.' Draco answered. For the first time since
the cruciatus curse had hit him, Draco began to try to piece together
events and make sense of what had happened.

'He attacked you, didn't he?' Snape prompted.

'Yes.' Said Draco, memories becoming clearer.

'Because you didn't kill Dumbledore?'

'No. Because I tried to.'

Draco remembered Voldemort's words 'How could you have been so

stupid? He could have killed you! You promised you would stay
safe!' His heart suddenly leapt. Voldemort had been angry that he
had put himself in danger, not because he had failed to kill! Wormtail
had lied! If he had lied about this, he had probably lied about all the
other things too!

Snape frowned.

'You killed Dumbledore!' Draco cried suddenly, eyes wide as the

scene flooded back into his mind.

'It was time.' Snape replied, head bowed.

'The Dark Lord attacked you with some kind of blunt object, I
assume?' Snape continued, wanting to change the subject, although
this topic was only marginally better.

It was Draco's turn to frown.

'No, I don't think so.'

'The injury that nearly killed you was a blow to the head from a hard
object.' Snape told him.

'The chair.' Draco said, numbly, remembering a few seconds laying

on the ground with a strange view of the base of the throne-like
chair. He remembered thinking it would be interesting to draw a
picture of it from that angle because no one would guess what it
was… He couldn't remember what happened next.

'I fell, and hit my head on the chair.'

'He healed that wound himself initially.' Snape said. 'Then he sent for
me. He was desperate to save you.'

Draco's eyes were wide. Wormtail had really been lying and all the
emotions Draco had felt at the times he was alone with Voldemort
were real!

'I don't know what happened, and I don't know what will happen
next, but I hope you can stay safe.' Snape concluded.

Reality becoming clearer Draco gasped.

'My mother!' Where is she, is she ok?' He asked anxiously.

'I have heard nothing.' Snape told him. 'I have been here all night.
She knew nothing of the attack so if the ministry have taken her into
custody she will not be able to give them any answers.'

'What about you?' Draco asked. 'You will be wanted, won't you? So
will I.'
'Yes.' Snape conceded. 'In spite of everything and my good sense
telling my otherwise, my instincts tell me you will be safest if you stay
here.'

Draco thought on this situation quietly. They were all 'on the run'.
Wanted killers. They had to live in hiding. He felt oddly panicked and
claustrophobic as he realised that it would be impossible for him to
leave and do something simple like walk down the street. He
realised that this was how it was for Voldemort all of the time. He felt
a rush of empathy for him.

He frowned, his mind turning over and over, musing on the problem.
If Voldemort wanted to control the wizarding world, Draco was
beginning to think his tactics were far from effective in the long run…
He would give this some more thought… but for now…

'Do you think I could take a bath?' He asked Snape.

'Certainly.' Snape replied. 'I will prepare you some food while you do
in case you are hungry afterwards.' 'Anything he needs, see that he
gets it.' It all made no sense, Snape thought, but there was nothing
he could do, besides pick up the pieces once it was all too late. He
would just continue to do so.
Chapter 40
Voldemort returned in the early afternoon. He spoke briefly with
Snape who assured him that Draco was well, still a little weak, but
out of danger. Gratitude evident in his face, Voldemort dismissed
Snape and gave him co-ordinates of a secret location where he
could go. The second Snape departed, Voldemort rushed to Draco.

The air was warm and balmy and sunlight streamed in through the
windows that sunny afternoon. Draco sat alone in the centre of the
bed, fresh and clean after his bath, he almost seemed to glow,
bathed as he was, in golden sunlight. He looked pure, new and
untouched. Ethereal and otherworldly. He looked up at Voldemort,
with such clarity and knowing in his eyes. A new chapter was
beginning.

Voldemort rushed to him and they fell into each other's arms.
Hugging each other tightly trying to take in every sensation, touch,
sight, smell, neither spoke for several minutes.

Voldemort's heart raced. He had nearly lost him. He thought he had

broken things with Draco and yet he seemed, by some miracle, to be
getting another chance.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut as the last 2 years of his life flashed
through his mind. How had he come to be here? To have done the
things he had done, and to feel the things he felt? He remembered
an encounter, long ago, when Voldemort had come to him and he
had tried so hard to resist his embrace. Now, he held him and
wanted never to let go. 'This should be wrong…' He thought to
himself, 'but somehow it isn't…'

At length, they released one another and sat facing each other,
hands held.
'Why didn't you talk to me?' Voldemort began. He spoke more
directly than ever before, paving the way for the most honest
conversation they had had.

'I was afraid.' Draco replied.

'Of what?' Voldemort asked, genuinely unsure.

Draco gasped, and half laughed, shaking his head. He was not
angry, just surprised.

'Of you !' He answered. 'You don't realise, do you? You are
absolutely terrifying!'

'Even to you…?' Voldemort asked.

'Yes.' Said Draco honesty. 'You are the Dark Lord. I'm just some
stupid kid.'

'You're not…' Voldemort began.

'I was so scared that you would get bored of me.' Draco interrupted
him.

' You might get bored of me!' Voldemort threw back at him.

'Am I allowed to do that?' Draco asked, aware that it was not a nice
thing to say, but this was the time to be honest.

Voldemort looked stunned. Then deeply hurt. Then pleading, as he

asked

'Are you here because you want to be, or because you think you
have no choice?' His heart ready to break if Draco gave the wrong
answer.

Draco smiled, and reached up and touched his face gently.

'I come to you via the port key, un-summoned. I spent the best part
of a year devising a way that I could get to you. I wear that pendant
nearly every night. When we are together, I… I don't know how much
clearer I can make it! You knew I was scared the first time, and I
don't think you would have let me say 'no' but you also knew I didn't
want to say 'no'. Let's be honest, this isn't the sort of thing they write
romantic stories about, but I wouldn't change a thing. I want to be
here.'

Voldemort's eyes burned with tears again, as they had done the
night before, but this time it felt entirely different. He kissed Draco's
forehead gently.

'I'm so sorry.' He whispered. 'I hurt you so badly. How can I ever
make it up to you?'

Draco smiled and moved closer into Voldemort's arms.

'You can fuck me. Now.' He whispered seductively.

Voldemort took hold of his narrow waist, supporting him.

'But you've been injured… I'm not sure I should…' He began, but
Draco cut him off.

'Fuck me gently.' He hissed insistently, and he leant in to be kissed.

He so wanted to be kissed!

Voldemort leant towards him, he breathed deeply as his fingers

slipped into the back of Draco's soft hair. He softly placed his lips
over Draco's mouth. He could be gentle.

Their lips locked together and Draco parted his lips to allow
Voldemort to explore his mouth. Voldemort did so and Draco sucked
his tongue in response. Their kiss grew hungrier and more intense. It
had been too long since they had kissed like this. Draco felt both
ecstasy and relief wash over him as he yielded to Voldemort's touch,
as he welcomed his lips against his own. He was so hungry for this.
'Be gentle.' Voldemort reminded himself. He didn't mind, on this
occasion he was glad to be able to take his time with Draco. The
feelings between them were electrifying and it was worth savouring
every moment. Voldemort cradled the back of Draco's head with one
hand, and skilfully slid the other under his shirt and began to caress
his back.

Draco's thin pale hands were gripping Voldemort tightly, digging into
his shoulders, and his head was tilted back as Voldemort thrust his
tongue deeper into his mouth. Draco whimpered and thrust his hips
against Voldemort, desperate for more contact with him.

Voldemort removed Draco's shirt and let it fall onto the bed. He tilted
Draco's head to the side, exposing his long elegant neck and moved
his lips lightly over the sensitive flesh. Draco shivered beautifully in
his arms and drew his breath as Voldemort kissed his neck, first
gently, then more deeply. Draco cried out as Voldemort began to
suck at the delicate skin ferociously, leaving a purple bruise on his
pale skin. Marking him, claiming him, confirming that Draco was his.

Draco trembled with desire and his stomach twisted with nerves. The
way Voldemort kissed him, the way he touched him, his gentleness
and care… Draco felt like this was his first time.

His first time had been amazing. Mind-blowing. Terrifying. Scarring.

Incredible. Frightening but incredible. This was different. This wasn't
simply about lust and desire. This was about something more. This
was about love. That made it amazing, mind-blowing, terrifying and
incredible too. There was no way back from here. Draco loved the
one person in the world it was most dangerous to love, and he knew
his love was requited. Draco quivered with nerves. Perhaps this was
a first time, of sorts?

Voldemort buried his face in Draco's fair hair and found his way to
the other side of Draco's neck, sucking and licking him. Then he
dragged his tongue over Draco's collar bone, eliciting a beautiful
moan of desire from the boy. He ran his hand over Draco's chest and
pinched one of his nipples, making the skin pucker instantly and
Draco jumped in surprise and gasp with pleasure.

'Oh! Mmmmmm, yes…' Whispered Draco breathlessly, dizzy and

lightheaded with desire.

'You like that, baby?' Whispered Voldemort between kisses.

'Gods yes!' Draco replied. 'I've missed you so much!'

Draco could feel Voldemort smile against the sensitive skin at the
side of his neck.

'Lay down, sweetheart, let me touch you.' Voldemort hissed.

Draco responded to the request. He removed his underwear, he had

not got fully dressed after bathing, hoping that this would happen.
Voldemort encouraged him and he obediently lay on his stomach. He
glanced back at Voldemort who smiled at him.

He affectionately ran his cool hands down Draco's back and over the
smooth curve of his ass cheeks.

'I'll take good care of you.' He whispered softly.

Voldemort ran his fingers gently down the cleft between Draco's
cheeks. He lightly touched the puckered ring with his fingertip and
Draco shuddered, with both nerves and desire. Voldemort pressed
his finger there, without penetrating him. The muscles felt tight, no
doubt due in part to the amount of healing potions Draco had taken
in the last 24 hours. It simply added to the feeling that this was their
first time all over again.

Voldemort teased Draco's entrance, pressing gently. Draco moaned,

wanting it desperately. Voldemort smiled and pushed one long finger
deep into Draco's ass. The ring of muscle felt so tight around him
and Draco gave a cry as he entered him, but it wasn't a cry of pain.
Voldemort slipped his finger in tenderly, savouring the wet sliding
sensation caused by the lubrication charm he had surreptitiously
cast. Gently and slowly he pulled his finger back, keeping just the tip
inside, before pushing it in again with the same leisurely pace.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed deeply with pleasure. However
tight he was, there was no pain, Voldemort was being so gentle with
him.

Repeating the lubrication charm, he slipped a second finger inside

Draco. He continued to slip his fingers in and out, making Draco's
passage obscenely wet. It was easy enough to slip a third finger in,
despite the tightness. He delved his fingers in deeply and Draco
moaned loudly. Moving his fingers inside the boy, Voldemort soon
located his prostate and pushed the tip of his finger against the
bundle of nerves. Draco gave a rapturous cry as the intense
pleasure hit him. Draco became very aware of his hard cock pressed
into the bed, he twisted and thrust against the bed wanting more
stimulation.

Often their encounters were hurried, but now Voldemort was

reminded of the pleasure and the power in taking the time to get
Draco really worked up. He remembered just how satisfying it was to
have this level of control over Draco, over his pleasure, his body and
his mind. It was wonderful to really enjoy the feelings of power he
felt. To know that he could thoroughly please Draco, could control his
sensations, could turn him into a pleading, trembling mess who was
crazed with desire. And only then, when the time was right, would he
give Draco the relief he craved.

He took his time toying with him, knowing that Draco was desperate
to be fucked.

'Fuck me now…?' Draco gasped, enjoying being touched, but

longing for the satisfaction of being filled by Voldemort's cock.

'Not until you are ready.' Voldemort hissed with a smile.

'I'm ready!' Draco cried. 'Please!' He added, hoping that begging
would have the desired effect. 'Please, I want you to fuck me, I'm
ready now!'

'You are ready when I say you are ready.' Voldemort replied and
Draco got a secret kick from Voldemort asserting control over him in
this way. He moaned needily.

'Oh Gods! Please take me now!' Draco cried at length when he could
stand the teasing no longer.

Voldemort was entirely unhurried as he pulled his fingers out of

Draco. Draco scrambled up onto his hands and knees expectantly.

'Lay on your back, love.' Voldemort whispered. 'I want to be able to

look at you.'

Draco smiled as he obediently turned to lay on his back. He parted

his legs so that Voldemort could get between them and lay on top of
him. Draco had come to really like being taken this way. This way he
could feel Voldemort's weight baring down on him, he could be held
still, he could feel utterly powerless. But he could also see Voldemort
clearly, his face, his expressions. He could connect with him more
than just physically.

Voldemort kissed him lightly on the lips.

'Fuck me.' Draco said softly as he tilted his hips upwards to allow
Voldemort to access him.

Voldemort smiled at him, an unusually caring smile that looked sort

of out of place on his face. He gently moved his hips forward and
pressed the head of his cock against Draco's ass. He breached him,
sliding in slowly.

'I don't want to fuck you, baby.' He whispered. 'I want to make love to
you.' He kissed him again. 'I love you, Draco. I really love you.'
Draco thought his heart might stop, or his entire body might explode,
or his brain might cease to function, so great was the intensity of
emotion he felt. Voldemort had never said that before!

'I love you.' Draco gasped in reply. 'I love you so much! Gods! I love
you so much!'

It was Voldemort's turn to think his heart might stop. Draco loved
him. After everything that he had done, Draco loved him. Draco
loved him!

He moved hard and slow inside Draco, who moaned in ecstasy as

Voldemort filled him completely. He gripped him tightly and pressed
his face against Voldemort's, kissing him in between breathless
gasps. He had never felt so complete.

Voldemort thrust into him and wanting to pleasure him completely, he

reached down and took hold of Draco's cock and caressed him
firmly.

Draco cried out as Voldemort touched him. It had never been like
this before. It was sexual, yes, but not dirty and lust-fuelled as it
often was for them. Draco enjoyed those times, certainly, but the
sheer emotion and the connection between them now elevated the
sex to a whole new level. Draco had realised some time ago that
theirs was a union that no one else could understand. Now he
realised that they themselves had not truly understood it until this
moment.

Voldemort kissed him and caressed him as they made love. There
was a time Draco would not have coped with this, he would have
fought it, he would have needed to make it 'just sex' again. He felt so
differently now!

He wrapped his legs around Voldemort and gripped him hard.

Voldemort's firm thrusts were pushing him towards climax.

'Oh, Gods! You're amazing!' He half sobbed.

'You're amazing, Draco!' Voldemort whispered in reply. 'You are
perfect, beautiful. I love you.'

It was hearing these words again which pushed Draco over the
edge. He came, holding Voldemort tightly, looking into Voldemort's
eyes. His whole body shook and as he reached up to kiss
Voldemort's lips, he brought the Dark Lord to climax too.

It was some time before Voldemort rolled from on top of Draco,

deciding that maybe he was a little too heavy to lay on top of him any
longer. He had not wanted to move, not wanted the moment to end.
He was not sure what to say. It was never meant to be like this. They
were in an entirely new place now, but however unexpected it was, it
was a good place.

He lay beside Draco and held him. Neither of them spoke as they
acclimatised to this new place. Draco looked back on the events of
the day before. They seemed so long ago, those emotions he had
felt, the insecurity, the doubt, they all felt so distant now. It seemed
such madness that he had not just told Voldemort everything. He
remembered how afraid he had been, but it seemed so ridiculous
now. He smiled, his face against Voldemort's chest.

For some reason, Voldemort loved him. Him. Of all people, he loved
him! He had chosen him to be the one he trusted, the one he cared
for, the one who kept his secrets. Draco didn't know why Voldemort
had chosen him, why he had fallen in love with him, but he felt
happiness beyond any words he could offer to explain it as they lay
together in that perfect moment.

At length, Voldemort spoke.

'I thought I had lost you, Draco. I am so sorry.'

'I'm sorry, I should have talked to you.' Draco answered. They sat up
and faced each other, ready to talk again.
'I should have understood why you didn't.' Voldemort replied. 'You
are the only one that matters, Draco. The only one I care about.' He
added sincerely.

Draco smiled and squeezed his hand.

'It's hardly surprising that other people wanted to come between us.'
Draco said. 'All the trouble came about because Wormtail suspected
you liked me too much.'

'I do like you too much.' Voldemort confessed.

Draco kissed him reassuringly.

'The only person who needs to know that is me.' He replied. 'It has to
be our secret. As far as the others are concerned, I am nothing more
than a play thing, a slave, nothing of any value.'

Voldemort frowned and held Draco's hands tightly.

'If they think I am of no special value to you they will not have a mind
to come between us.' Draco continued.

Voldemort nodded. Draco was right. He had a head for strategy, and
an understanding of emotions that went beyond Voldemort's
understanding of them. He was probably entirely correct in his
theory.

Draco was unsure whether now was the time to discuss tactics, but
Voldemort seemed keen to listen to him, so he continued, setting out
some of the ideas he had spent the day considering.

'They seem a little disorganised at the moment my Lord.' Draco said,

adding Voldemort's formal title, to emphasise change of subject from
'them' to 'the death eaters'.

'They have been restless for some time.' Voldemort replied, still
holding Draco's hands, absentmindedly stroking his palms. 'They all
want to fight, they want battles, few of them understand the
importance of planning and timing.'

Draco nodded. He was reminded somewhat of his own school

henchmen who always wanted a conflict, regardless of the
appropriateness of it.

'And some of them have been taking terrible liberties!' Voldemort

said crossly.

'They need a clear message.' Draco said firmly. 'They need bringing
back into line. Show them that loyalty will be rewarded but
insubordination will not be tolerated.'

Voldemort laughed. Here was Draco, a 17 year old schoolboy, giving

him advice on controlling his followers.

'I'm serious.' Said Draco. 'This is a crucial time and we are in a very
difficult situation since Snape killed Dumbledore. There are less of
us now who are able to move about in society and see what is
happening in the ministry or at Hogwarts.'

'I have people within the ministry.' Voldemort answered, interested at

the grasp that Draco seemed to have on the situation, given that
they had never discussed it before.

'Good.' Said Draco. 'That is very good. I hope they are suitably high
up.'

'Yes.' Said Voldemort, beginning to feel strangely as though he were

an employee being quizzed by his manager.

'High up enough to be of influence? Because they are your most

important allies now. They are your greatest strength.'

'Really?' Said Voldemort with a smile. As strange as this was, he

couldn't help but be charmed by Draco's enthusiasm. 'Do tell me
more, Draco, about how I should go about winning this war… In your
expert opinion!'

Draco pouted playfully and folded his arms.

'No, really, go on.' Voldemort urged. 'I am interested to know what

you think.' In truth he was interested simply to know that Draco had
given this any thought at all. It meant that he cared, surely.

'I think that at the moment you, and the death eaters are an
extremist movement, a minority group of terrorists and whilst you
may be powerful enough to take the ministry by force, ruling, when
you are supported only by a minority of the population is not
sustainable.'

'A rather bleak assessment.' Voldemort replied feeling somewhat

deflated.

'Oh, I have no doubt at all that you could take control.' Draco said,
wanting to boost him up again. 'But even in a powerful dictatorship, it
is best to have the support of the majority, in case of an uprising.'

Voldemort nodded and Draco continued.

'You need influential and well thought of individuals who support you
who can present your ideology in a less extreme way to the masses.
Influence some political change now to pave the way for you taking
power. Like, simply suggesting it would be of benefit to have more
knowledge and control of where muggle borns are, to protect the
wizarding population from being exposed… Put it across rationally
but play on people's fears. You need some positive public figures to
do this. Once upon a time my father would have been ideal, but he's
rather messed that up now.' Draco stopped, mentioning has father
had somewhat bought him back down to earth.

Voldemort, however, was impressed.

'You're not just a pretty face, are you love?' He smiled. 'This is
something I have been considering for some time now.'

Draco smiled, relieved that there was a plan in place already and
delighted that Voldemort thought he was clever. After all that angst
he had been through, all he needed to do was talk to him!

'If most of the people buy into the core of what you want they will
accept your leadership. Grant them some benevolence in trivial
areas and very few will fight you. The vast majority of the world are
inherently cowardly, they will accept your rule rather than risk a
conflict if they think they can function within your system.'

Voldemort smiled.

'Do you want me to rule, Draco?' He asked. 'Do you support what I
believe in?'

'Of course!' Said Draco with enthusiasm. 'I know how dangerous and
barbaric muggles are! I remember the stories my father used to tell
me about how they treat one another. About how, because they don't
have a torture curse, they spend their time inventing manual ways to
torture each other. He told me all about the devices they made years
ago, right up to modern things, 'bombs' I think he called them, which
they made to destroy life at cellular level… I mean, throwing a torture
curse in anger is one thing, but to go out of your way to invent this
stuff, it's barbaric. To apply time and ingenuity to inventing complex
ways to hurt each other, they are not a balanced species! It's
horrifying! I don't want to ever be at the mercy of creatures like that!'

Voldemort smiled, feeling vindicated by Draco's impassioned

speech.

'Of course I want you to rule.' Draco added softly. 'We all want you to
rule.'

'We?' Echoed Voldemort.

Draco paused. He meant himself and the death eaters, but he was
not one of them, not really.

'I mean, me and your followers.' Draco said. 'I support you, I want to
do what I can to help you, if it's what you want.'

'I don't want you to fight.' Voldemort said firmly. 'But you understand
people in a way that I don't. You're insights are interesting.'

'I will help however I can…' Draco paused. 'And… do you want me to
take the dark mark?' He asked at length.

Voldemort had not considered this.

'Do you want to take it?' He asked, stroking his hand over Draco's
perfect smooth forearm where the mark would sit.

'If it's what you want. I am yours. Truly yours.' Draco sounded
genuine and adoring as he spoke.

'Then I don't need to mark you, not like that.' Voldemort replied. 'You
are not like the others.' He kissed him.

'That's no bad thing.' Draco said. 'The others will see my lack of the
mark as a sigh on my lower status, which will be useful to the plan.'

'You have a plan, love?' Voldemort smiled at him.

'Yes.' Replied Draco. 'And it's important we stick to it. You must bring
the death eaters back into line. Frighten them, show them
consequences of disloyalty, the consequences of failing you. Show
them loyalty and reward where they are useful. I have been of no
particular use to you, in fact my family have been a disappointment
to you. You have to show that in the way you treat us.'

'There are others I am far more angry with for their disloyalty!'
Voldemort replied.

'Wormtail.' Whispered Draco anxiously.

'Yes.' Said Voldemort. 'I know what he said to you. He has been
dealt with.'

Draco shifted a little nervously.

'What happened to him?' He asked.

Voldemort paused for a moment.

'Let's just say he won't be telling you any more lies in the future.' He
said coldly.

Draco knew better than to ask for details. Voldemort was keen to
change the subject.

'Do you know there is a plan to break people, including your father,
out of Azkaban?' Voldemort asked, 99% sure Draco would not know
this as they had never discussed it.

'No.' Draco answered. 'But if my Father is present that will be useful

because you will be able to make an example of all of us. Treat us
badly in front of the others for our failings. I am sure some of the
death eaters think you took me simply to punish my father anyway.
That is certainly what he thinks.'

'Hummmmm…' Voldemort mused. 'You are right of course, Draco,

that is how this should be played out. But is that really what your
father thinks? The arrogant, self absorbed fool! How can he think
that everything is about him? The reason I took you was very little to
do with him and everything to do with you!'

Draco smiled for a second before he spoke.

'Well as far as everyone is concerned it is just part of the punishment

and humiliation you have in mind for my family because we have
disappointed you. You will need to be cruel to me. You will have to
be rough and degrading. When other people are watching you have
to call me abusive names, hurt me if you want to. I am your sex
slave. You once said I'd look good in chains… Do it. Chain me up,
slap me around. Do anything that you desire to use and humiliate
me.'

Voldemort didn't think he could blush, but he was sure that if he

could he would be doing so right now!

'Are you sure this is all part of a clever and well considered plan,
Draco, not just some personal perverted fetish of yours…?' He
asked.

Draco giggled and gave Voldemort a playful punch on the arm.

'Yes, I'm sure!' He replied with a twinkle in his eye.

'You are getting far above your station, Draco Malfoy!' Voldemort
hissed gently as he wrapped his strong arms around Draco's waist
and tenderly pulled him close so that they were face to face, their
foreheads touching.

'Then put me in my place.' Draco answered seductively, kissing him

on the lips teasingly.

'With pleasure!' Voldemort replied with a smile.

Chapter 41
'He was lowering his wand. 'I have to kill you, or he's going to kill
me.' That was what he had said. He didn't want to do it… He was
lowering his wand…' Harrys thoughts tormented him. He had told
Ron and Hermione of course, and anyone else who would listen, that
Draco had not been able to kill Dumbledore. But no amount of telling
people seemed to lighten the burden of responsibility he felt, on top
of his grief and fear.

Voldemort was forcing Draco to do things. Forcing him to fix the

vanishing cabinet, forcing him to attack Dumbledore, and forcing him
to… Harry could not shake off the memory of the dream he had had.
Was Voldemort forcing Draco to do that? It was just too horrible. That
he could be bullying Draco, hurting him and threatening him in one
moment, and doing that to him the next… It made Harrys stomach
churn. It make other parts of him stir too, which disturbed him
perhaps more than the idea itself.

He couldn't remember the dream in detail now and he hadn't had

another since. The night following Dumbledores death he had taken
dreamless sleep potion and had done so quite frequently in the
weeks that followed. Draco had been sobbing. He remembered that.
Draco had scratched him, tried to fight him off. He had flung Draco
down and slapped him across the face…

He should have helped Draco. He had the chance to and he

attacked him instead! Now Draco was being used for Gods only
knew what by Voldemort and probably half the death eaters too.
Harry was disgusted with himself as he felt his cock stiffen as he
pictured Draco on his knees, being fucked by a room full of death
eaters while Voldemort looked on, an evil smile across his face.
Unsure whether he wanted to burst into tears, or masturbate
furiously over the mental image, Harry tried to guide his thoughts into
more familiar, more Gryfindor-ish territory.
He could rescue Draco. He could save him. Draco would be chained
up, naked somewhere. He could rush in and free him. Draco would
throw his arms around him in gratitude. He would apparate with him
to somewhere safe. Grimmauld Place maybe. Draco would probably
be crying, they would be sitting on the bed and he would be holding
Draco, who would still be naked, and he would comfort him.

'Then Draco would be so grateful he'd let me…' Harry thought. ' No,
he would tell me all about how cruel they were to him, and then I'd
tell him it didn't have to be like that. Then he would ask me to show
him. I'd kiss him. I'd tell him he was beautiful. I'd be so gentle with
him right up until he told me he wanted it harder…' Harrys hand shot
into his trousers and he took hold of his rock hard cock and he
began to tug it frantically. 'And he would want it harder because he
gets off on it like that.' Harry fantasised. 'He will beg me to fuck him
so hard that he forgets everything they ever did to him. And I'll throw
his legs over my shoulders and I'll pound into his cute little ass until
he screams my name. I'll stretch his asshole around my big fat cock
and delve in so deep and fill him completely and he'll love it. I won't
even need to touch hic dick because he'll come just because I'm
inside him. And even when he's done, I'll keep on drilling him until I
feel my balls tighten and I shoot my load deep inside him…'

Harry gave an audible cry, and was grateful that the common room
was deserted and no students were anywhere near as he came in
rapid spurts all over his hand and soaking his underwear and his
jeans.

As penance, he cast a particularly harsh cleaning spell over himself.

He sat, shaking slightly in the wake of his orgasm, feeling dirty and
ashamed as his guilt caught up with him. Of course he would never
do that! Of course he would never take advantage of Draco in that
way. He would rescue him, of course. He would defeat Voldemort
and then Draco would be free. Then if he was grateful, if he wanted
to 'show his gratitude' he could. If he wanted to. 'I'll kiss him.' Harry
thought. 'Just once, just softly, just so he knows…'

'Harry?' A soft, kind voice called from the doorway.

Harry jumped. Ginny stood in the doorway, a concerned and caring
look on her pretty face. She approached and sat beside him on the
couch.

'Harry, I was worried. You've been gone for ages.' She said calmly,
stroking his hand.

'I'm… I'm sorry.' Harry stammered although Ginny had no idea what
he was really apologising for.

'It's ok.' She said. 'Harry, you are all flushed, have you been crying?'

'Errr…' Harry began.

'It's alright.' Ginny said and she hugged him tightly, letting him bury
his face in her beautiful long red hair. She smelled lovely and clean
and fresh.

Feeling dreadful, Harry held her tightly in return. She was such a
good friend to him and he really did love her. And she was very
beautiful and he really had wanted to kiss her… But a week or so
after he did, he realised it didn't feel right. His perverse Draco
fantasies aside, once he realised just how much Ginny resembled
his mother, he was at least, self aware enough to acknowledge that
perhaps he wasn't kissing her for the right reasons.

But here she was, comforting him, which he decided was far more
than he deserved. She thought he'd been crying. She didn't think for
one minute that her boyfriend, the hero, who was grieving the death
of his mentor, had actually just been jerking off while thinking about
his supposed enemy. It was Harrys dark secret. Like he needed any
more of those!

Far from being naked and chained in a dungeon, Draco lounged

comfortably on Voldemort's black four poster bed. He was alone, and
dressed in Voldemort's own long black silk dressing gown, reading
from a large, leather bound book. He had been with Voldemort for
over a week now. He knew his way around the strange old house
and wondered about as he pleased. He had been delighted to
discover the library! Interestingly, it consisted mostly of muggle
books. Draco seemed to recall being told that muggles had lived
here some time ago. He focused his attention of course, on the
magical volumes which had been bought here for study to help
further Voldemort's campaign. The heavy ancient volume he perused
this evening was on the subject of wand-lore.

Had Harry had sight of Draco at that moment, it would either have
heartened him to know that Draco was not being hurt, or it would
have shattered his perverse fantasies about it, as Draco looked very
well indeed, positively glowing with health. He had continued taking
healing potions regularly, at Voldemort's insistence, as he wanted to
be sure he was back to full health. Draco had taken the potions
slightly longer than was really necessary and in the end stopped as
he worried they might lose their effectiveness in the future. He had
also been eating better than he had done in a while, again, partly at
Voldemort's bidding. This evening he had a healthy flush of colour to
his cheeks, due in no small part to the fact that Voldemort had
indulged him in nearly 2 hours of sex play that afternoon. Draco
smiled to himself. If the death eaters had feared his influence before,
they certainly had reason to now! With every passing day, he and
Voldemort seemed to bond more deeply, at times hearing each
other's thoughts and communicating without words, without even
trying to do so. Of course, the death eaters would not be shown this.
In their presence, Draco would play the frightened, abused sex
slave. It would be safer that way, Draco affirmed. Plus it could add an
interesting dynamic to the physical side of their relationship, Draco
mused with a sordid smile.

Voldemort was in the large dining room with a small group of death
eaters, among them Bellatrix, Greyback and McNair. They were
receiving special orders for the next stage of the mission.

Bellatrix had wondered, as they had approached the house that

evening, if she would find out what fate had befallen her little
nephew. She longed to know if he was dead, or if he was still alive in
some tortured state somewhere. Then, of course, someone would
have to break the news to his mother…

There had been no sign of the boy so far, and she knew better than
to ask. She waited patiently, hoping the result would be worth waiting
for.

The meeting drew to a close and Voldemort was happy that the next
stage of his plan would be executed correctly. It was time to issue
this team with a pertinent warning.

'My servant will bring you your cloaks.' Voldemort told them with a
sickening smile as they began to rise from the table. 'Wormtail!' He
shouted. 'Wormtail, do as I have instructed you!'

None of the death eaters had seen Wormtail since the night of
Dumbledores death and there were gasps of horror, even from
Bellatrix as an almost deformed figure grovelled into the room, trying
to carry all of the long black cloaks he had been tasked with.

'Fuck!' Breathed McNair, as Wormtail approached and handed him

his cloak, or rather attempted to. He could hardly hold it, as his
hands were twisted and mutilated, fingers broken and crushed, flesh
blackened and swollen. He shook visibly with both pain and fear as
he tried his best not to drop any of the cloaks. McNair was not a man
known for his pity, but he took his cloak quickly in order to help
Wormtail complete the task.

Greyback stared, open mouthed, looking not at Wormtails hands, but

at his face, what was left of it. Chunks of skin appeared to have been
ripped from his face, distorting his features almost beyond
recognition. Wounds to his neck appeared to have been 'healed' or
at least cauterised, to keep him alive for further torment, no doubt.
Greyback was taken aback by the brutal way in which the flesh had
been torn from the muscle, he could hardly have made a better job
of it himself!
'What the fuck happened to you?' He barked as he snatched his
cloak from the cowering wreck of a man.

Wormtail gave no reply and Greyback looked to Voldemort.

Voldemort remained seated in his throne-like chair and a sadistic

smile spread over his thin lips.

'Answer him, Wormtail.' He hissed aggressively. 'Or do you need to

be taught some better manners?'

Wormtail had flinched in what looked like agony, simply at the sound
of Voldemort's voice, and although it was impossible to tell, tears had
filled his eyes and they began to run down his mutilated face, the salt
stinging as it reached the open wounds.

He opened his mouth and tried desperately to rasp out a response to

Greyback. He made very little sound, it was as though something
was stuck in his throat, preventing him from talking.

Greyback took hold of his face and forced his mouth open, reeling
back in disgust when he saw inside.

Wormtail's tongue had been cut out. Inside his mouth a blackened
rotting stump flailed as he tried to form some kind of verbal
response, desperate to avoid further torture.

'Fucking hell!' Exclaimed Greyback and he turned back to Voldemort

for some kind of explanation. Not that he wanted to appear above his
station, but Voldemort had undoubtedly bought this pitiful creature
before them for a reason.

'Not very talkative these days, is he?' Voldemort hissed with a grin.
'You see…' He addressed them all. 'Wormtail here enjoyed telling
lies. Lies which were counterproductive to my plans and caused
dissension amongst my followers.'
Bellatrix looked down at the floor. She was getting the intended
message, loud and clear.

'I will always punish non compliance.' Voldemort snapped. 'This a

crucial time, and fools like this one, meddling, for what they perceive
as their own gain could have devastating consequences. Do you all
understand me?'

'Yes, my Lord.' The chorused in frightened unison.

'Good.' Said Voldemort, observing that Wormtail had finished

handing out their cloaks. 'Now, Greyback…' He said commandingly.
'Wormtail is of absolutely no use to me now that he is in this state.
Finish the job for me. Now.'

Never usually one to flinch away from killing, Greyback looked taken
aback at this request. Usually he went for prey which excited his
appetite and gave him the adrenaline rush. This task did neither!

'You hesitate to follow my orders?' Voldemort challenged, his eyes

flashing dangerously.

'No my Lord. Of course not.' Greyback responded. 'It is my pleasure.'

He approached Wormtail. Wormtail cowered and shook, but as the

werewolf's claws grabbed him and lifted him up, it was a look of
gratitude and relief in his reddened eyes.

Greyback sunk his teeth into Wormtails neck and with a mighty
wrench, he ripped his throat out. It was over quickly.

He let the lifeless body drop to the floor and he turned to Voldemort.

Voldemort simply nodded at him and then spoke in parseltongue.

The death eaters looked around them to see exactly where the great
snake had been hiding. There was not one of them entirely
comfortable around Nagini. She circled the body, clearly about to
feed.
'You may leave now.' Voldemort told the group. 'There is nothing else
I need to tell you today.'

They departed rapidly, Bellatrix, for once, particularly keen to be out

of the Dark Lords presence.

Voldemort hissed some kind encouragement to Nagini, the way one

does when feeding a pet. He left her alone to eat and walked down
the long corridor to the bedroom, feeling incredibly glad that Draco
had not witnessed the scene that had just unfolded.

'You were a long time.' Draco commented as he entered the

bedroom.

'Sorry love.' Voldemort answered and he sat on the bed. 'The

meeting went on longer than I hoped. And I had to feed Nagini.'

'It's ok.' Draco smiled, he was rather fond of Nagini.

'I hope you weren't too bored.' Voldemort said, slipping his hands
around Draco and holding him.

'I wasn't.' Draco answered. 'I've been reading, about the Elder
Wand.'
Chapter 42
'They will be arriving imminently so that I can co-ordinate the
Azkaban break out.' Voldemort told Draco as they sat together at the
long table.

'OK.' Said Draco, getting out of his seat and coming to Voldemort's
side. 'And you know how it must be?'

'Yes.' Replied Voldemort. 'You look too comfortable and relaxed.' He

added.

Draco nodded and took his wand from his pocket. He cast a spell
over himself, his shirt disappeared and the black trousers he wore
became ragged and torn. Using a kind of inverted makeup charm, he
darkened his eyes, making it look as though he had not been
sleeping well.

'How's that?' He asked, rather pleased with his efforts.

'Not bad.' Smiled Voldemort darkly and he raised his own wand.

Draco didn't even flinch. Voldemort cast a spell which put a chain
around Draco's neck, secured with a padlock. A length of chain
formed a lead, and Voldemort took hold of the end and jerked Draco
towards him.

'That's more like it.' Voldemort hissed and he wrapped his arm
around Draco, dragging his nails down his naked back.

It stung, in a tantalising way, and Draco was very glad he had

suggested this plan! The way Draco shivered had Voldemort wishing
that his followers were not due to arrive any moment, and wondering
why he had never given Draco a chain collar to wear before.

'You look far too good like this, you know!' Voldemort whispered in
Draco's ear.
Draco giggled as Voldemort's hands trailed over his skin and then
cupped his ass, fingers pushing between his cheeks through his
clothes. Draco began to wish he was wearing nothing but his chain.

'I'm not sure you should be allowed this though!' Voldemort

remarked, and with that he reached up and forcibly wrenched
Draco's wand from his hand.

Draco trusted him with it, of course, but he had instinctively tried to
resist, as any wizard would. However, Voldemort was far stronger
than him so no resistance he put up would have been of any use.
Draco would have given him the wand freely, but Voldemort felt an
odd surge of power at having taken it from him without asking. It
helped him get into the role he would play for the next hour or so.

'Sit at my feet.'

He commanded, and with a smile, Draco obeyed.

'And stop smiling!' Voldemort snapped. 'Look frightened. You do a

good range of frightened looks when you want to!'

'I don't know what you mean!' Draco replied, his voice dripping with
sarcastic innocence. 'Don't worry, I'll be scarily convincing once they
arrive.'

'I'm sure you will.' Voldemort answered, ruffling his hair affectionately,
which added to his dishevelled look.

'Don't hold back.' Draco told him sincerely. 'I can take it. If you want
to hurt me, you can.'

Voldemort nodded. He was not afraid. Draco was not afraid either.
The connection between them was now so strong that Voldemort felt
sure he would know if something was too much for Draco. He would
sense it straight away. He had a good understanding of the places
he could push Draco to, and Draco was confident that he would not
cross the line. Not after he had nearly lost him.
The death eaters required at this gathering began to file in. The half
naked boy on the floor drew a few glances and stares, but no one
mentioned it.

Draco planned to be as passive and quiet as possible, as though he

was afraid to speak. He stared forward in a mindless trance, as
though his sprit were broken due to his captivity. He wore a
beautifully convincing lost and forlorn expression.

His empty and reticent stare gave away nothing of the thoughts
which were going on beneath the surface. He listened carefully to
every word, making sure he understood the plan perfectly. He
listened intently to the replies that the various death eaters gave
when Voldemort spoke to them. He listened to their words, but also
to their intonation. He subtly watched their body language, looking
for any non verbal signs they might give away which Voldemort
might not pick up on.

Several of them were afraid, more so than normal. Perhaps they had
heard of Wormtail's fait or perhaps it was the fact that the Azkaban
break out mission was going to be undeniably dangerous. Many of
them had done time in Azkaban and the bad memories were
unnerving them somewhat.

On this occasion no one individual made Draco suspicious, but he

focused intently on the task of observing them as he would do in any
subsequent meetings he attended. He was so engrossed in his task
that when Voldemort rose to retrieve a parchment to show to the
group, Draco did not move out of his way fast enough.

'You wretched boy!' Voldemort hissed crossly and in an instant he

had raised his hand and struck Draco across the face, knocking him
back out of the way.

Draco gave a little cry of pain, partly because it had taken him by
surprise.
'Silence!' Voldemort snapped at him, glaring at him angrily and Draco
cowered in fright, hoping that no one noticed the lustful way his
pupils had dilated as Voldemort stared at him.

Voldemort returned to the table and Draco flinched away from him as
he passed. Once they had finished studying the map Voldemort
rolled it back up and turned to Draco.

'Malfoy!' He shouted. 'Malfoy, you lazy slut! Come here!'

Draco scrabbled nervously to his feet and approached Voldemort.

'Yes master?' He answered obediently.

Voldemort scowled at him.

'Did I tell you to stand?' He barked, and he slapped Draco across the
face again, the sharp sound resonating around the room.

Draco fell to his knees.

'Sorry master.' He said quickly.

'You will be sorry, you little whore!' Voldemort snapped at him. He

took the rolled up parchment and thrust it into Draco's mouth, as if
he were a dog with a stick to carry. 'Return this to the shelf.' He
instructed.

Draco crawled over to the shelves with the parchment, wishing that
the meeting would soon be over.

Still on all fours, he returned and sat once more at Voldemort's feet,
and he was please to see that the meeting was now drawing to a
close.

'Stand up, you useless bitch.' Voldemort hissed at him. 'People are
leaving, open the doors for them. Then come back here and I will
see if I can find any other ways I want to use you this evening.'
Draco followed his orders.

The death eaters filed out and he shut the doors. The room was
empty apart from the two of them. They were alone again.

In a frightened and subservient manner, Draco returned and stood

before Voldemort.

Voldemort paused for a moment. They were alone again, no more

need to pretend. He glanced at Draco. Draco glanced back at him
with a nervous but oh so needy look in his wide eyes. He bit down on
his lower lip, his breathing a little ragged. Everything about his body
language and countenance screamed,

'Please, don't stop!'

Voldemort smiled an evil and lust filled smile. He grabbed the chain
around Draco's neck and wrenched him forward.

'I'll take you to the bedroom, slut, as it's the only place you are any
use to me.' He hissed close to Draco's face.

'Yes master. Thank you master.' Draco gasped, delighted that

Voldemort had read the signs so perfectly. Even with their new found
communication, he would have been unwilling to actually ask for this.

Dragging Draco by his lead, Voldemort took him down the long
corridor to the bedroom. Draco's stomach twisted with nerves. What
did Voldemort have in mind?

Voldemort flung open the door and pulled Draco inside. He reached
for his wand. With a flick he conjured a new piece of furniture, a low
table or bench, perhaps? Draco was unsure what is was for.

Voldemort wrenched his chain again and pushed him forward

towards the bench. He pushed him down by his shoulders.

'Get on your knees.' He commanded.

Draco knelt with this bench before him. From a kneeling position it
was just the right height for him to bend over it and rest his torso
across it. Voldemort roughly pushed him forward into position and
once he was there, he cast a spell which bound his legs to the legs
of the bench. When Draco instinctively grasped the other set of
bench legs with his hands, Voldemort bound his wrists in place too.

He was securely held in place, and it was a strange feeling. For all
the things he and Voldemort had done, Draco had never been tied
up before. Held down, certainly, but never tied. He found himself
enjoying it rather more than he had imagined he would.

'You are no good to me like that.' Voldemort hissed, and with another
flick of his wand, Draco was naked, except the length of chain which
hung around his neck.

Tied as he was, legs parted and bending forward, Draco felt very
vulnerable and exposed, his most intimate areas displayed and open
to whatever Voldemort decided to do to him. He whimpered
nervously.

Voldemort opened a large cupboard, Draco, from his position could

see nothing of the contents. Voldemort returned holding something.

Voldemort stood behind him and Draco felt a thin tip of something
hard trail down his back. The touch and the uncertainty sent shivers
through him. This thing caressed him again, his back and then his
sides. It was only after several strokes that Voldemort trailed it down
over his shoulders and arms allowing Draco to see what it was. It
was a riding crop. A thin black riding crop with a silver handle.
Draco's eyes widened with lust and fear.

Encouraged by Draco's obvious arousal, Voldemort raised the crop

and swung it down with great force across Draco's buttocks. It felt
like a line of fire had been thrown over his delicate skin. The impact
shocked him and the stinging continued once the crop was raised
again.
The second blow fell just to the right of the first and was even harder.
Draco gave a cry so loud it almost drowned out the thwacking sound
as the crop tore into his flesh once more.

Voldemort admired the raw red lines he had made across Draco's
ass and he paused for a moment to tease Draco once more with
light caresses with the tip of the crop. Draco whimpered as he
dragged it over the sore red lines.

'Aaaaggh!' Draco cried out as Voldemort flogged him several times

across his shoulders and back. The pain was exquisite and he
jumped and writhed against his restraints with each stroke.

Draco lost count of the number of hits Voldemort had given him.
Voldemort interspersed them with light touches, which teased him
and aggravated the sore skin where he had been lashed. Once
Voldemort's hits started to come relentlessly, Draco wondered how
much more he could take as he began to sob and gasp through the
rapidity of the strokes.

Sensing Draco was near his limit, Voldemort stopped and admired
his work, noticing also Draco's prominent erection between his legs.

'You enjoyed that, you filthy slut?' Voldemort asked.

'Y-yes, master.' Draco gasped, his breathing beginning to settle.

Voldemort smiled and, putting down the crop, he took something

else from the cupboard. This time he held a small leather strap. He
knelt beside Draco, who flinched as Voldemort stroked his wounded
back. The small strap beside him on the floor, he took hold of
Draco's hard cock and began to caress him.

Draco gave a desperate moan of desire as Voldemort touched him

like this. The combination of pain and pleasure was intoxicating in a
way he could never have imagined. He arched and writhed, longing
to thrust into Voldemort's hand.
'You horny bitch!' Voldemort laughed at him. He reached for the strap
and placed it at the base of Draco's cock. 'You are only going to
come when I allow you to.' He hissed, fastening the strap tightly,
preventing Draco from reaching a climax until it was removed, no
matter how aroused he became.

With a frustrated sob, Draco flopped forward, all of his weight on the
bench, as he accepted Voldemort's total control of his senses.

Draco felt afraid when Voldemort stood up and once again picked up
the riding crop, but this time his focus was different. Voldemort trailed
the tip of the crop down the cleft between Draco's ass cheeks
making him shiver with desire as it teased over his entrance.

Draco had expected to be penetrated with the crop. He had not

expected what happened next. With no warning, Voldemort raised
the crop and with impressive precision he thrashed Draco's asshole,
the tip of the crop hitting him right on the tight puckered ring of
muscle. Draco yelped with shock and pain. Voldemort lashed him
again, aiming directly as he had done before. The crop once more
kissed Draco's most sensitive area, turning it from pale rose pink to a
violent enflamed red.

Gasping for breath, Draco trembled with adrenalin. Voldemort hit him
once more in the same place and Draco felt his ring becoming
swollen with the abuse. In all of his spanking and discipline fantasies
Draco had never pictured such an intimate thrashing. He was so
aroused by it he was sure without the leather strap he would possibly
have come already as he pictured how tight and intense it would feel
when Voldemort decided to fuck him after this.

Pleased with himself, Voldemort paused, he had got Draco's asshole

into the state he wanted it in. He knelt behind Draco to inspect him
more closely. The severely reddened, damaged skin looked so
sensitive and sore he couldn't resist teasing with the tip of one of his
long fingers.
Voldemort's cold hands felt almost soothing, and he was being very
gentle, especially after the vicious assault he had carried out
moments ago. Never the less, Draco jumped at the contact. He was
so sore and swollen that even the lightest touch was hard to bare, he
could hardly wait to be fucked! He tried to glance back to see what
Voldemort was doing, but it was no use. From this position no matter
how he turned his head, he could not see what was happening.

Suddenly he felt something cold and hard trail down his back. It was
painful over the thrash marks, it felt like the tip of a wand, Draco
thought… It was. He recognised it, could feel it's magic signature. It
was his own wand that Voldemort dragged down his back and let it
linger just near the base of his spine.

'How much pain do you need, you whore?' Voldemort drawled with a
wicked smile. 'How much do I want to hear you scream?'

Draco gave a stifled sob in answer.

Voldemort then pressed the tip of the wand directly to Draco's

asshole. He pressed harder and harder, working the rounded tip
slowly inside. Even the slender wand felt to Draco like an enormous
violation now that he had been spanked by the riding crop. It felt
deliriously kinky too. Voldemort was fucking him with his own wand!

He slid the wand in a little further. Draco knew his wand was 10
inches long, he could feel at least 6 inches inside him now.
Voldemort worked the wand back and forth, rotating it slightly.

'You're so tight, baby, I would hardly be able to get inside you like
this.' Voldemort cooed in a menacing tone. Using Draco's wand, he
cast a lubrication charm, flooding Draco's passage with cool slippery
fluid.

Draco squirmed as the spell filled him. As Voldemort drew the wand
out of him some of the lube trickled out over his swollen ring. Draco
jumped as it felt both soothing and tormenting at the same time.
Voldemort stood up and took something from the cupboard and
returned to his position kneeling behind Draco, the new toy in his
hand.

'I'm going to make sure you are ready for me.' He growled. 'Going to
make sure you are ready to take my cock in your ass, even after that
little spanking I gave you.' He added with a grin.

'What are you going to do to me, master?' Draco asked nervously as

he felt something hard pressing against his entrance.

'Inquisitive little slut!' Voldemort exclaimed. 'I'll do what I damn well

like to you, and you'll love it!' He snapped. 'I'm going to start by
putting this plug in your ass, so that you get used to feeling full. Then
maybe I will fuck your face for a while, if you are being too noisy.'

Voldemort pressed the end of the tapered plug into Draco's hole and
Draco gasped as he felt the hard object breach him.

'Oh, yes!' Draco breathed as he felt the toy stretching him and filling
his passage. 'Oh, thank you master!' He cried gratefully.

'You might not thank me in a minute!' Voldemort laughed as he

continued to push. The plug got wider towards the base and Draco
felt fuller and fuller the further it entered him.

Draco yelped as with a final shove, Voldemort pushed the whole

thing inside him apart from the thin looped handle which he could
use to pull it out or to further tease Draco by twisting it inside him.

Voldemort worked the plug inside him, twisting it and rotating it, and
Draco, as much as he could in his restraints, pushed his hips back,
begging for more stimulation. The plug was by no means small, but it
was not as large as Voldemort's cock and did not feel as satisfying.
Now it was inside him, the painful but enjoyable stretch of his ring
was over, until Voldemort decided to pull it out. Draco moaned
needily, wanting more.
'You are so greedy and demanding, Draco you nasty little whore.'
Voldemort hissed, sounding very aroused.

'It feels good, master.' Draco gasped, as Voldemort angled the plug
to press directly onto his sensitive spot. 'Feels so good!'

'How about this?' Voldemort snarled and he gave a sharp tug, pulling
the plug back out of Draco.

Draco gave a dramatic cry. He had not expected that. He had been
comfortable with the plug inside him, the sudden pull had forced his
ring to stretch wide open again in seconds, and now left his passage
feeling empty. Despite this emptiness, the sensation of the plug
being removed like that had been incredible. Draco's cock was
ragingly hard and felt like it was throbbing in desperation to come.

Pleased by Draco's reaction, Voldemort plunged the plug back inside

him with one thrust. The process was even more intense for Draco
this way, as he finished with the satisfying feeling of fullness when it
was inside him. Voldemort repeated these actions over and over
pushing Draco to the brink, to the very edge of his desire.

Draco could feel the heat building inside him, could feel his whole
body being pushed to the limit of sensation and pleasure. He shook
with sensitivity as the toy assaulted his prostate repeatedly, his
senses poised on the edge of something amazing. But it was being
denied to him! He screamed and sobbed with frustration.

Planting the plug firmly inside Draco, Voldemort stood up and took a
moment to look at his poor trembling little slave, his back red with
lash marks, his face wet with tears, a leather strap around his
desperately hard dick, and a plug in his ass. Draco looked
thoroughly used and abused, although not quite thoroughly enough,
Voldemort decided.

It was intimidating for Draco as the tall imposing figure of Voldemort

walked around him, staring at him, watching him, considering his
next move. He stopped at Draco's head and knelt down in front of
him.

He was gentle as his cold hand with its sharp nails reached out and
raised Draco's chin, making him look into his eyes. Draco was
flushed and his face was tear stained. Wide eyed, he stared at
Voldemort, who smiled at him. Voldemort kissed his forehead softly.

'Good little whore.' He cooed in a sinister tone. 'Are you enjoying

this, pet? It's what you deserve, you know.'

'I, really, need to, come! Please! Please, master!' Draco gasped.

Voldemort glared at him and gave him a sharp slap across the face.

'You don't deserve that yet!' He snapped.

Draco sobbed loudly and shook with frustration. Voldemort, still

kneeling before him, unfastened his own robes and exposed his long
thick cock. He was hard as a rock and had been for some time. He
so enjoyed abusing such a willing slave!

He pressed the tip of his cock to Draco's lips but allowed him no
more. His cock was wet with pre come and instead of allowing Draco
to taste him, he dragged the head of his cock over Draco's face
smearing the wetness all over him. Draco opened his mouth as
though begging to be allowed to suck him right away, but he was to
be denied this a little longer.

Roughly swinging his hips, Voldemort smacked Draco in the face

with his cock, hitting him over and over again until his face was as
wet with Voldemort's fluid as it was with his own tears. Only then did
Voldemort press the tip of his cock to Draco's lips once more.

Draco gratefully took his dick into his mouth and clamped his pretty
pink lips around the head, sucking gently. As he took more length he
used his tongue to tease the ridge and lick at the slit. Voldemort
closed his eyes in ecstasy, one hand resting in Draco's fair hair. The
ecstatic pleasure of the way Draco sucked him so dutifully and
affectionately whilst tied and abused was mind meltingly hot! He
rested for a few moments, allowing the sensations to take him over.
But this was a bit too much like letting Draco have some control, and
that was not what this was about!

He took a firm hold of Draco's hair and gave a forceful thrust into his
mouth. Draco responded just in time to avoid choking, relaxing his
throat and taking Voldemort's full length. He had expected this would
happen.

Voldemort wasted no time and began to fuck his throat violently,

gripping the back of his head and pushing him further onto his dick
with each thrust. Draco struggled to breath and his desperate gasps
and attempts to swallow only made the physical sensation more
intense for Voldemort. With a deep groan, he came hard down
Draco's throat.

Draco felt his climax approaching and, gagging and gasping, he

managed to swallow Voldemort's come as he pumped it into him.

Voldemort pulled his cock out of Draco's mouth and once again
dragged the head over Draco's face, wiping off any last traces of
come. He stood up and once again towered over Draco who was
panting for breath, grateful he could at last breath properly again.

Now Voldemort knelt beside Draco and he ran his right hand slowly
up Draco's leg and over his ass cheek. Draco flinched at the contact
with the places where the riding crop had lashed him. Voldemort's
left hand slipped into the back of Draco's hair. Voldemort raised his
right hand and gave Draco's ass a firm slap. Draco yelped loudly.
Being spanked by hand felt entirely different to being flogged with
the riding crop. The impact was broader and it was more of a
stinging sensation, the crop was so fine it felt almost like it cut into
him as it hit his flesh. Draco did not know which he preferred. What
was tormenting him now was the fact that each slap Voldemort gave
him stimulated the plug which was still inside him and Draco tensed
and twitched so desperately wanting more. His cries grew louder.
Draco gave a particularly loud scream as Voldemort spanked him,
ramming the tip of the plug hard against his most sensitive area.
Voldemort stood up and went to the cupboard. Draco trembled,
wondering what his screaming had earned him now!

Returning, Voldemort took hold of Draco's hair and wrenched his

head back. He firmly pressed his fingers into the sides of Draco's
face just below his cheek bones, forcing his mouth open. Before
Draco had any chance to try to resist or move, Voldemort stuffed a
ball gag into his mouth and fastened the strap around the back of his
head.

'That's what you get for being such a noisy little slut.' He hissed.

He stood up and once again drank in the delicious sight of his poor
little pet, trussed up, gagged and stuffed in the ass. Without a word
he walked towards the door.

Draco heard his footsteps moving away from him and whimpered
desperately, trying is best to plead with his master. He was not really
going to leave him like this! Voldemort paused at the door.

'There's no point trying to beg, pet.' He whispered with a grin. 'You

will stay there like that until I want to use you again. You will stay with
that plug inside you and you can think about how much you want me
to let you come. You can think about just how much you would love
to take my cock in your ass. How good it would feel if I decide to fuck
you like this, and how hard you would come if I took that strap off
you while I was pounding you. Think on that, and if you are very
lucky I may come back and fuck you into total submission.'

With that, he left, slamming the door behind him.

Frustrated angry tears ran down Draco's cheeks. Even in his sex
slave mindset, he could not quite believe that Voldemort had left him
like this. How long would he be gone? Time would pass very slowly,
Draco thought.
Without Voldemort there, touching him, giving him physical
stimulation, the position he was held in quickly became
uncomfortable. He was aware that the ropes that bound him were
tight, the edge of the bench was hard, the floor was cold and hurt his
knees. It was amazing that he hadn't noticed before. He tried to shift
his weight, over the bench more, through one knee, then the other…
It didn't really help. He felt irritated and frustrated. Gods! What if
anyone else saw him like this? It was on the verge of not being fun
anymore!

Draco found the best way to cope was to try to stay turned on to it, to
try to stay as aroused as possible. After all, he knew Voldemort
would be back. He knew Voldemort loved him. He knew that his
pleasure not only mattered to Voldemort, but was the whole focus of
this game. He knew he would be taken care of, in every way
possible. Remembering this, he felt safe again and he closed his
eyes and pictured the things that Voldemort had said. He sighed
deeply. He hoped it would be soon.

It was about 20 minutes that Voldemort was out of the room. To

Draco it felt a lot longer. Draco jumped when he heard the door and
glanced round to see the sinister figure of Voldemort approaching
him. He whimpered through the gag.

'Shhhhhh, pet!' Voldemort whispered, kneeling behind him and

stroking his fingers softly down Draco's back which was still raw from
the flogging.

'mmmmm…' Draco tried to moan and ask for relief at last.

'My poor little slut.' Voldemort hissed as he toyed with the handle of
the plug. 'Are you desperate for me to fuck you?'

Draco frantically tried to moan in response and nodded his head

rapidly.

Voldemort teased the plug and worked it slowly out of Draco. Draco
felt strange and empty without it and his asshole twitched and
puckered as it contracted.

Draco was not left wanting stimulation for long as Voldemort

unfastened his robes once more, and pressed the head of his cock
to Draco's opening. Draco could feel him there and, half sobbing with
frustration he tried to push back onto him.

Slowly Voldemort pushed his way inside him. Draco felt utterly
delirious as his lover's thick hard cock filled him in the way that only
he could. Surely there was no feeling of pleasure or relief like this!

Voldemort penetrated him slowly, but once he was fully inside the
gentleness ended. He pulled back sharply and began to fuck Draco
hard, fast and violently. If he could have done, Draco would have
screamed, both for mercy and for more. Tears ran down his cheeks
once more and Voldemort gripped his hips and slammed him harder
and harder, faster and faster.

'That's all better now, isn't it?' Voldemort barked at him as he fucked
him. 'This is what you wanted isn't it, you filthy whore? You want my
big cock in your ass, you want me to fuck you like a little bitch. Want
me to claim you, make you my slave.'

Sobbing deeply, Draco nodded, as it was the only response he could

give.

'You love it, don't you?' He hissed at Draco. 'You love feeling dirty,
degraded and used, you needy insatiable slut!'

Draco was shaking. It was time to give him what he needed. Allow
him the indignity of climaxing as a result of his abuse. Voldemort
reached for the strap around Draco's cock and released it.

In split seconds, the earth shattering orgasm that had been building
up in Draco for the past hour erupted from him. He came violently
and harder than he ever had before. It was an orgasm that lasted
longer than usual, the throbbing continued after the main climax and
it was as if he came not just once, but several times all strung
together. It had been so worth waiting for!

The way his body convulsed so intensely felt amazing to Voldemort

and although Draco couldn't scream out loud, he could almost feel
the scream rip through him. Draco's ass clenched around
Voldemort's cock and with a last deep thrust he came inside Draco,
coming harder than he thought he could after having come less than
an hour earlier! As amazing as this was, Voldemort hoped that Draco
didn't want to do this every day. Even though Voldemort was
supposed to be immortal he thought Draco could probably kill him off
with a sex drive like this!

Panting for breath, he pulled out of Draco and reached for the back
of his head and unfastened the gag.

Draco took deep gasping breaths and Voldemort stood up and

looked at him. When Draco didn't move it took Voldemort a moment
to remember that this was because he couldn't move as he was still
bound to the bench. He reached for his wand, flicked it and the ropes
vanished.

Released from his restraints, Draco staggered to his feet, his limbs
sore and a little shaky after being in the same position for so long.
Voldemort offered him his hand and helped him to stand. Draco
smiled and swayed slightly, leaning onto Voldemort, who supported
his weight, pulling him into a tight embrace. He helped him over to a
large chair in the corner of the room. Voldemort sat down, dragged
Draco into his lap and summoned a blanket which he wrapped
around him in a caring and affectionate manner.

Had it been too much? Had he crossed the line? Perhaps they
should have agreed a sign which meant 'stop' before they began?
Draco had seemed like he was enjoying it, it felt like he wanted it, but
he had been crying, and he was gagged for some of the time. He
couldn't have spoken up if he wasn't happy.
'I would have felt it if he wasn't happy…' Voldemort hoped. But it was
complicated. Damn it, Draco was complicated! He had been crying,
but sometimes he liked to cry. He had been scared, but sometimes
he liked that too. Voldemort wondered how anyone was supposed to
understand this 'love' business when it was so bloody confusing!

Draco's head flopped against Voldemort's shoulder and he lay quite

still in Voldemort's arms. Voldemort gently stroked the hair from
Draco's face and kissed his forehead softly.

'Are you ok, love?' He asked tentatively.

Draco looked up at him, and noticing Voldemort's face full of

concern, his own face broke into a playful smile, grey eyes twinkling.
Voldemort still awaited an answer.

'That was fucking amazing!' Draco exclaimed enthusiastically.

Chapter 43
Lucius was home. So was Draco, for once. He had spent his time,
since the night he fled from Hogwarts, at the Riddle House with
Voldemort. Today he had returned to the manor, as it was now safe
to do so.

It seemed that Voldemort's influence within the ministry had been

sufficient to clear both Snape and Draco of any kind of involvement
in the death of Albus Dumbledore. This was now considered a tragic
accident, and any talk of murder simply came from 'the boy who lies'.
The Azkaban breakout had been hushed up. There was change in
the air, Draco could feel it. The political tide was turning in favour of
Voldemort's ideology. They discussed this together. Voldemort hoped
to get a suitable man within the ministry under his control who could
become Minsiter for Magic once the current regime fell. Draco
suggested Dolores Umbridge could also be put to good use, having
witnessed her methodology during the time she was at Hogwarts.
From his observations from the corner of the room at death eater
meetings, he also suggested the Carrow twins for posts at Hogwarts
to support Snape. Snape, they had discussed, should ideally be the
headmaster.

It had been a success in many ways, Draco's slave act. Aside from
giving them the opportunity to enjoy the sexual aspect, it had put
Draco almost in the position of a spy amongst the death eaters
themselves. He could watch carefully during the meetings and feed
back to Voldemort afterwards and it was amazing the things that
some of them would say in his ear shot when Voldemort was not
there! He overheard many personal secrets this way and made a
mental note of all of them.

Draco was nervous on returning to the manor. He had not seen his
mother for some time and knew she would be worried about him. He
was also very aware that he had told her in the past that Voldemort
was not unkind to him and that this was the opposite of what she
would see now. He wished there was some way he could tell her, but
he really didn't trust his father not to give the game away. His pride
would mean that if he knew of Draco's true relationship with the Dark
Lord, he would probably want to boast of his sons influence. It was
too much of a risk. They would just have to suffer the worry for a
while.

He arrived back via port key into his own room and this gave him the
chance to change into some smarter clothes before he saw his
parents. He was to sit with them at this meeting, so as to give a
sense that the treatment they received was being aimed at them as
a family unit. It would emphasise that Draco's enslavement was a
punishment for all of their failings. This would hopefully motivate
other death eaters with families to perform well to avoid the same
fate.

Draco tiptoed downstairs and headed to the dining room. This was
where the gathering was to take place and he suspected his parents
would be there already, making sure all was as it should be. He was
correct.

Draco had butterflies in his stomach as he reached for the door

handle. He had not seen his father for over a year. Would he have
changed, his looks, his behaviour?

It had never been an easy relationship that he had with his father,
although he had always loved him. Lucius was not a naturally warm
or caring person. Affection did not come easily to him, he was stern,
vain and proud and had always been given violent moods if he was
displeased. He had regularly beaten his son if his behaviour was not
satisfactory and lacked the gift of being able to show kindness after
these episodes of discipline. Draco's relationship with Lucius had
undoubtedly coloured his desires and expectations of his
relationships with other men. He accepted, almost needed, a violent
element to know that he was loved. But craved a gentleness and a
candid level of care that had been missing from his relationship with
his father. It was always love he had sought from Lucius. He had
taken beatings, been shouted at, talked down to, admonished and
shamed, in the hope that, if he endured it, the demonstrative love he
wanted would follow. It never did. Throughout Draco's childhood this
heartbreak had hurt more than any beating he had ever taken.

Everything was different now. Draco was getting the love and
affection that he needed so much, from Voldemort. He no longer had
to endure any poor treatment from Lucius in the hope that an empty
promise of affection would come true. How would it be between them
now? Draco knew he would never not love his father, but he had not
the desperate need to please him anymore. Things would be very
different without that.

His heart froze for a moment as he looked at his parents and he felt
a sharp stab of guilt that he could not let Narcissa at least, in on his
secret. His mother looked so anxious and thin, he felt bad that he
had not come home sooner to see her.

His father looked dreadful, worse than he had imagined. Azkaban

had taken its toll. His hair was thinner, he was pale and looked
generally unkempt. Draco had never seen his father look like this
before. He looked broken, in body and in sprit. It was hard to imagine
that this wreck of a man was the towering figure of iron and ice who
Draco had so desperately wanted to please and impress all of his
young life.

Narcissa shirked and ran over to him and hugged him tightly. Her
embrace was warm, comforting and safe. He gripped her tightly too,
it felt good to hug her after so long. He squeezed his eyes shut and
breathed in the smell of her perfume.

Lucius had hurried over too and rested his hand on Draco's
shoulder. Stepping out of his mother's arms, Draco paused. His
father hardly ever hugged him. The only time Draco could remember
his father hugging him was the day that Voldemort returned him to
the manor after taking him to his bed for the first time. Lucius didn't
give hugs, a pat on the shoulder was usually more than enough
physical affection for him. Today was different. Lucius pulled Draco
into a grasping, possessive embrace and gave a silent sob as he
gripped him.

'Draco!' He gasped, releasing him at last. 'Draco, son. Where have

you been? I have been home since yesterday and your mother told
me she has not seen you for over a week!'

Draco sighed. It seemed as though Lucius was going to try to be a

caring parent to him. It was far too late for that. Draco gave him no
answer.

'He's been with him… haven't you Draco?' Narcissa whispered, and
Lucius looked horrified and stared at Draco wanting an answer.

'Of course I have.' Said Draco flatly. 'Where else would I have been?'

Lucius looked at Narcissa with great concern, then back at Draco.

He felt his stomach churn. What sort of a father allows this to happen
to his only son? What sort of a man brings the monster into their
home and then stands by in fear as he takes the most precious thing
in all the world? Lucius loved his son dearly. Why else would he
always have been so angry when Draco didn't live up to
expectations, to what he was capable of? Lucius had only ever been
angry with Draco because he loved him so much. He had had so
many high hopes for his son which crumbled before his eyes as he
saw what Draco had become. Lucius knew he was a failure, as a
father and as a husband. He had left his wife alone to suffer while he
was in Azkaban and watch as Draco was taken further and further
away from them. He had done nothing while his son was forced to
become the sexual plaything of a sadistic maniac. He observed the
black bruises on his sons neck and scratch marks around his wrists
and winced in pain.

In truth these marks were simply deep love bites which Voldemort
gave Draco frequently purely because they drove him wild. And the
scratches were simply because Voldemort had sharp nails and
Draco did so like to be held down by his wrists when he was being
screwed. Usually if Draco was marked in any way, Voldemort would
insist he took a healing potion shortly after. On this occasion Draco
had insisted he didn't, so as to look more authentic.

Lucius was horrified and couldn't quite believe his eyes.

'Still…?' He whispered in disbelief. 'After all this time?'

The meeting was tense, unpleasant and uncomfortable, exactly as

was intended. Snape arrived just before the start with information
about when Potter was to be moved from his muggle family home.
Operations within the ministry were discussed and Draco took
particular note of this.

Voldemort taunted Bellatrix about her niece marrying Remus Lupin,

much to the amusement of the others. He taunted Draco too, who
simply looked terrified and gave no answer.

He then talked about the issue with his wand having the same core
as Potters wand. He needed a different wand to use.

Draco had been giving this much thought over the past week. It was
this that had prompted his research into various aspects of wand
lore. When they had talked about it, Voldemort had agreed with him.
It was the Elder wand he needed. But until it could be found, he
needed a wand, any wand that would mean that he wasn't
vulnerable to an attack by Potter.

Draco had offered his own, of course. Although it yielded to

Voldemort, much as Draco himself did, Draco's wand was Hawthorn
and Unicorn hair, one of the most challenging combinations to move
towards the dark arts. It was a shame, Draco thought, as it would
have seemed an ideal temporary solution as Voldemort's wand
worked fairly well for him, once he had got used to how to handle it.
But he realised it would be a problem as he could hardly take the
Dark Lord's wand to school with him and use it there, could he?

Voldemort took Lucius's wand, further humiliating them, Draco doing

an impressive terrified act throughout. When Voldemort tried out
Lucius's wand by killing the muggle studies teacher, Draco faked a
fainting fit and fell onto the floor. Beneath the table he petted Nagini,
who came nose to nose with him before she was called for her
supper.

It had been Voldemort's main concern, killing in front of Draco,

perhaps this was why he kept it quick. One simple 'Avada Kadavra'
and it was all over. Draco had been prepared for it, and of course, it
was not the first time he had witnessed the killing curse in action.
Perhaps he was becoming a little desensitised to this sort of thing, or
perhaps he simply accepted it as a means to an ends. He focused
on the bigger picture.

The meeting over, the death eaters prepared to leave. Lucius and
Narcissa stood up and looked, with great concern, at their son laying
apparently unconscious on the floor. Voldemort approached them.

Lucius began to stoop as though he were going to try to move or

wake Draco.

'Leave him there.' Voldemort ordered. 'I am not finished with him just
yet.' He gave Draco a kick as he spoke and Draco flinched as
though he were starting to come round.

'Yes, my Lord.' Said Lucius weakly and he and Narcissa ushered the
last of the death eaters out of the room.

Once the room was deserted, Draco sat up and Voldemort offered
him his hand to help him get up. He rested his hands on Draco's
shoulders for a moment and seemed to check him over to make sure
he was ok. Then he laughed.

'Fainting, Draco? Really! I've always said you were a touch over
dramatic!'

Draco gave him a playful punch.

'I think I was very convincing.' He said huffily.

'Hummmmm…' Said Voldemort with a smile and kissed Draco on the
forehead.

With that, Draco flung his arms around him and held him tightly,
delighted when Voldemort returned the embrace.

Draco couldn't deny it, that meeting had been horrible. Worse than
the others somehow. Maybe because there were more people there,
his parents amongst them. Maybe it was because usually he sat on
the floor at Voldemort's feet, or in the corner of the room. He was not
used to be being just another one of the people around the table.

They were both convincing actors, he and Voldemort. Good liars and
deceivers, as most Slytherins are. Draco had to admit that there
were moments when he had felt genuinely frightened and wanted
reassurance. This embrace was the reassurance he needed.

'Are you sure that wand is going to be alright for you?' Draco asked
at last.

'It yields to me.' Voldemort replied. 'And it's used to dark magic. It will
do for the time being.'

'OK.' Said Draco. 'What about the search for the other wand though,
where are we up to with that?'

Voldemort smiled. He liked the way Draco 'checked up' on his

progress.

'I'm going to follow up a lead right now actually. The wand maker has
given me some good information. I'm not sure it's all he knows, but
it's a good start. Now I have this wand I can begin to act on it.'

Draco smiled. 'Be careful though.' He said in a concerned tone.

'Of course.' Voldemort replied, kissing him softly.

'Will I see you later?' Draco asked.

'Yes.' Said Voldemort. 'I will come back here, to your room, but it will
be late. You don't have to wait for me, go to sleep if you are tired and
I'll join you.'

'I'll stay awake.' Draco said perkily.

'OK love, if you want to.' Voldemort replied, smiling.

They shared a passionate kiss goodbye and Voldemort disapparated

from the room.

His anxiety from the meeting now settled, Draco approached Nagini,
who was laying on the table digesting her meal. She looked at
Draco, who stroked her head like she was a cat. He thought she
might be thirsty so he summoned the house elf and instructed him to
bring her a dish of water in case she wanted it. The poor frightened
elf obeyed him.

He left the dining room and went to seek out his parents. He had
missed them, genuinely, and wanted to spend the evening with
them. He just hoped they were going to behave properly and not
tiptoe around him anxiously all evening. Outside the study he heard
his father's voice from inside the room.

'It's gone on too long! I can hardly believe it has continued all the
time I was away.'

'What could I do?' His mother replied imploringly.

'It's my fault.' Lucius said gently. 'Not yours. But what can we do
now?'

Draco opened the door of the study and stepped inside. They both
turned and stared at him.

'Mother, Father…?' Said Draco in a calm voice.

'Oh Draco.' Said Lucius sounding desperate. 'What should we do?'

Draco sighed. It seemed he was going to have to take control of the
situation. Taking a deep breath he spoke calmly.

'Well, I would suggest we instruct the house elf to prepare a light

supper for us. I have not eaten yet and I doubt you have either. It can
be served in the drawing room as the snake is still in the dining
room.'

Both of them looked shocked at his cool and collected tone, and he
noticed them flinch at the mention of Nagini. He walked over to them
and took hold of their hands. Although he could not confide in them,
he wanted to give them some kind of comfort in all this.

'After supper, I would suggest an early night. You both look tired. I
have some reading I want to do and then I wouldn't mind an early
night myself. Tomorrow I will need to think about getting my school
things for September.' Inside he was shaking. Shaking with guilt and
an odd sense of power. On the surface he was as calm as a
motionless lake.

Slightly stunned, his parents followed his instructions, wondering

how it was that their son could be so calm at a time like this. But if
Draco, after all he must have been through at Voldemort's hands,
could behave so properly, then they felt they owed it to him to do the
same.

Draco had tried really hard to stay awake. He had showered and
changed into his night shirt, but he had a large mug of coffee and a
huge book from his father's library, about wand lore and ownership.
He hoped these things would keep him awake. He sat on his bed but
pushed all the covers to the far end so that he was not tempted to
get underneath and fall asleep.

He drifted off around 12.30 and when Voldemort arrived via the
portkey at 2am, Draco was sound asleep, the book still open in his
lap. Voldemort smiled. He liked looking at Draco while he was
asleep, he looked so trusting and innocent as he slept. It was hard to
imagine how clever and how mature he was when you watched him
sleeping, he looked so uncomplicated and sweet. Voldemort
supposed this was because he was innocent, trusting and sweet at
times. He was rarely uncomplicated though, but that only added to
his charm. Noticing the now-cold coffee, Voldemort was touched by
the fact that Draco had clearly been trying to stay awake to see him.

He gently lifted the book from Draco's lap and placed it on the chair.
He covered Draco with the dark green bedcovers, admiring the
contrast against Draco's porcelain skin and silvery blonde hair.
Removing his own robes, he slipped into the bed beside him.

Draco began to stir.

'Hey there…' He whispered drowsily as he reached his hand out

towards Voldemort.

Voldemort wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him close,
kissing the top of his head.

'Shhhhhhhh!' He whispered. 'It's late, I didn't want to wake you. Go

back to sleep.'

Draco didn't want to argue. He was so exhausted. Exhausted from

acting his part at meetings, from reading, researching and planning.
From taking charge of his distraught parents, and undoubtedly from
all the other activities he had been doing with Voldemort too! He
rested his head on Voldemort's chest and Voldemort wrapped his
arm around him affectionately.

Draco smiled as he closed his eyes. Somehow his sleepy brain had
processed the fact that Voldemort had come back to the manor via
the portkey, simply to hold him while he slept. Everyone else thought
that Voldemort tortured him and used him, hurt him and hated him. It
was secret moments like this that made the pretending bearable and
worthwhile. In these moments, Draco felt happier and more loved
than he ever had in his life.
Chapter 44
Voldemort hated it. Hated it possibly even more than Draco did. The
way Draco flinched when he approached him, the way he cowered
when he was near. The way Draco shook with fear when the death
eaters stood to leave the room, because they would be alone. Hated
the way Draco sobbed in fright when he touched him.

When they played master-and-slave when they were alone, Draco

was a willing and grateful slave who enjoyed all of his masters
perverse attention. However when others were there he was an
unhappy and terrified slave who obeyed commands through pure
fear. This was never how Voldemort wanted Draco. Even in the early
days when it had all just been an amusing game for him, he wanted
Draco to want him. Seeing Draco so convincingly fear and despise
him was not enjoyable, especially now they had admitted their true
feelings to each other.

A small briefing to ministry insiders had drawn to a close and the two
of them were again alone. Voldemort once more helped Draco up
from his subservient position on the floor. He took him in his arms
and lifted him so that he sat on the edge of the table and held him
tightly. Sometimes he needed the reassurance more than Draco did.

Draco wrapped his arms and his legs around Voldemort and gripped
him firmly and Voldemort buried his face in Draco's hair.

'I hate this.' He whispered at last.

Draco sat back from him slightly and reached up and tenderly
stroked his face.

'I do too.' He replied. 'But I love you.' He said with a frankness and
honesty that both calmed Voldemort and ignited a fire within him at
the same time.
'You really do, don't you?' He said softly, almost disbelievingly.

'Of course.' Draco answered with a smile and he leant forward and
brushed his lips gently over Voldemort's. The touch was light and
fleeting but as sweet as sugar and just as addictive!

Voldemort lifted Draco's chin with one hand so that he could look at
him. Draco's eyes were dark and shadowed to make it look as
though he had not slept well, but Voldemort could see past this
deceptive disguise to the bright twinkling which no inverted makeup
charm could hide. He caressed Draco's cheek with his cold hand
and Draco smiled, drinking in every moment of his affectionate
touch.

'I love you, Draco.' Voldemort whispered. 'I didn't know I could love,
but I love you.'

Draco's heart skipped a beat. This was real. It was really real.
Sometimes he had to check himself, to remind himself that this was
really happening. The Dark Lord loved him!

'I love you Draco.' Voldemort continued, 'And I want you at my side,
not at my feet. The others, they should not look down at you, they
should cower before you as they do before me!'

Draco had to admit he rather liked the sound of that. He was willing
to act his part, as it was necessary for the time being, he was happy
to sit at Voldemort's feet and be his slave, but it hurt his Malfoy pride
when the likes of Crabbe and Goyle senior looked down at him like
he was worthless.

'It won't always have to be like this.' Draco whispered, and teasingly
kissed his lips once more. 'And sometimes I'm very happy to be at
your feet…' He added playfully.

Voldemort smiled, and kissed him back, giving his lips a sweeping
lick as he did so.
'Well, I'd still let you do that every now and then!' Voldemort hissed
softly. 'But you will be my consort, Draco, not my slave.'

Draco's heart soared, his stomach flipped, he felt light headed.

Adrenalin coursed through him. He had never imagined feeling so
deliriously happy and in love.

'Fuck! I love you so much!' Draco cried and clasping Voldemort's

face with both of his hands he pulled him in to a deep passionate
kiss.

Voldemort responded, kissing Draco hungrily. Their lips seemed

almost to meld together with the heat of their kisses and Draco's
hands scrabbled to get inside Voldemort's robes.

Draco loved the feel of him. At the start, his coldness had felt odd, he
greyish skin tone had seemed strange, but now, to Draco, it was
familiar. It was his territory. He pressed his warm hands against
Voldemort's thick upper arms and took a moment to notice and
appreciate the strength and muscle tone he could feel there. His
physical power, his magical power, it was awe inspiring. Draco
adored him.

He closed his eyes as Voldemort kissed him yet more deeply. He

opened his mouth and Voldemort slipped his tongue inside, Draco
sucking it eagerly.

As was his usual slave attire, Draco was stripped to the waist and he
shivered with excitement as he felt Voldemort's strong hands holding
his slender back, his gentle fingers tripping over his skin. Draco drew
deep breaths of Voldemort's musky scent and wondered how, after
more than 2 years, this simple thing still caused his heart to flutter
with nerves and desire.

Face to face, they whispered to one another, breathing in each

other's exhaled words and feeding on the desire between the two of
them.
'My sweet Draco.' Voldemort breathed as his hands caressed
Draco's bare skin. 'My precious one, you are all mine!' He smiled. It
was wonderful to have Draco, to know he was truly his, in body and
soul. His, willingly and happily and completely.

'Always yours.' Draco whispered back.

Voldemort's hand trailed towards Draco's crotch and Draco felt his
desire surge within him.

'Take me to bed?' Draco asked breathlessly.

'Of course my love.' Voldemort replied and once more locked their
lips together.

He apparated them in this embrace, directly into the bed. So precise

were his apparating skills that they appeared there under the covers,
Draco on his back and Voldemort above him. Draco relaxed back
into the softness of the pillow and smiled gratefully up at his lover.

Apparating together in such an embrace felt deeply intimate. Draco

was now old enough to apparate on his own, but preferred to be
taken along by Voldemort whenever possible. When they apparated
whilst kissing and in a close embrace it was as if they merged into
one being as they travelled. In the time they were in motion Draco
hardly knew where he ended and where Voldemort began. It was as
if they fused and mingled together, only falling back into their own
separate forms again on arrival at their destination. It felt beautiful.

A whispered spell rid both of them of their clothing allowing them

both to savour the skin on skin contact between their bodies.

Draco reached both his hands up to Voldemort's face, his neck, his
shoulders, needing more than just the weight of his body on top of
him. He yearned for the feeling of total security that only Voldemort
could give him. Voldemort knew what he wanted and gently took
hold of his delicate wrists and placed them either side of his head,
pressed against the pillow in a position of complete surrender. He
pinned him down, lovingly, affectionately and with great care. Draco
could not move and was utterly his. Draco felt such relief and he
relaxed totally, feeling possessed, owned and completely safe.

Voldemort slid his hard member into Draco, looking longingly into the
boys twilight grey eyes. Draco was so young, so innocent, so
accepting. As he took him, moved inside him, looked down into his
pure, pale face, he felt almost as though he were filling an empty
vessel. As though Draco's youth meant that he was not yet full of
experience and the cares of life and Voldemort could pour himself,
his love, his deepest secrets into Draco who in his innocence, had
the capacity to receive them.

It was not that Draco was incomplete without Voldemort, not that he
lacked his own identity. It was simply that he was open and
accepting of the kind of completion that comes from uniting with
another. When Voldemort filled him, physically, emotionally, he did
not feel that he lost his own identity, quite the opposite in fact. The
differences between them meant that when Voldemort was inside
him, body and soul, Draco's own identity felt more sharply defined by
the contrast between him and his lover. The harmony within that
contrast became the song of their secrets, describing their love
through a melody that only they could hear.

These were the moments that made the pretending worthwhile, but
were the same moments that made it challenging. It was difficult for
Draco to feel so full of love and happiness and not to let it spill out
into other moments of his life.
Chapter 45
Before the end of summer the ministry fell. Potter and his friends
went 'on the run'. Snape was appointed headmaster of Hogwarts
and the Carrow twins took teaching posts. A well considered plan
was falling into place and a heavy hearted Draco bid farewell to
Voldemort as he once more prepared to go back to school.

'It's the last year it will be like this.' Voldemort comforted him. 'And
now that Snape is headmaster you can come to see me whenever
you like. He won't try and stop you.'

'Won't it give the game away if I keep asking to go and see you?'
Asked Draco.

'I think we would be naive to think that Severus is entirely taken in by

our little act, Draco.' Voldemort answered. 'He was the one who
healed you. He saw me pleading to save your life…' His voice trailed
off.

Draco kissed him to remind him that everything really was alright
now.

'Severus cares about you, Draco. He will keep our secrets for your
sake even if not for mine.' Voldemort assured him.

He was correct. Snape had his suspicions that all was not as it
seemed between Draco and the Dark Lord, although he did not know
the extent to which their emotions ran. He had known that Draco had
feelings for Voldemort since the night that Harry had attacked Draco
with the Septumsempra spell. He had realised there was more to
Voldemort's feelings towards Draco than met the eye on the night of
Dumbledore's death. The Dark Lord had begged him to do all in his
power to make Draco well again. He had also heard of Wormtail's
fait and had correctly guessed at the reason for it.
It was a truly complicated situation and the behaviour, genuine or
otherwise, that Draco and Voldemort displayed at meetings,
confused it still further. At least at Hogwarts, Snape could keep a
watchful eye on Draco and make sure he was ok.

He summoned the Carrow twins into his office on the first day of
term.

He made sure they understood all of their duties and told them all
they would need to know about the running of the school. He
impressed on them the need to treat all students with equal
contempt while they established themselves as disciplinary figures in
the school.

'Make sure you are as harsh with one as with the next.' He told them
clearly and the both nodded keenly. 'All… with the exception of one.'
Snape continued.

'Oh… which one in particular?' Alecto asked with an amused smile.

'Draco Malfoy.' Said Snape in a stony voice.

Both twins smirked with laughter.

'Oh, the sex slave! The boy who was too pathetic to kill a
defenceless old man?' Amycus snorted. 'Would you suggest we treat
him with greater contempt than the others? Maybe as badly as the
Dark Lord treats him?'

The two of them cackled.

'On the contrary…' Snape said, in a voice that silenced the both of
them. 'I would advise extreme caution around the Malfoy boy. I do
not know the full extent of the Dark Lords plans for him…'

Amycus looked for a moment as though a derogatory remark was

about to escape his lips, but an icy glare from Snape froze it there.
'I would simply suggest to you that all may not be as it seems with
regards to Draco Malfoy. All that you need to remember is that Draco
is the property of the Dark Lord himself. However the Dark Lord may
treat the boy does not give any one of us carte blanche to do the
same. Just as we would not rush forward to touch that snake simply
because he does.'

Alecto nodded gravely.

'The Dark Lord does not like people to interfere with his possessions
and that very much includes the Malfoy boy. Do I make myself
clear?'

'Yes headmaster.' Amycus conceded.

'Should any further warning be necessary,' Snape continued. 'You no

doubt are aware of the fate of the servant, Wormtail?'

'Yes.' Alecto said curiously.

'Wormtails crime may interest you.' Snape drawled. 'He tormented

Draco Malfoy on several occasions and paid the price for it.'

'What?' Gasped Alecto.

'If the boy is to be tormented it is the Dark Lord who shall do it. I
would advise keeping a distance from him as much as is possible.'
Snape concluded.

It was fairly easy to do really, with Draco being in Slytherin, the

naturally favoured house. The Carrows heeded Snape's warning and
kept out of Draco's way, ignoring him in class and turning a blind eye
if they saw him around the school when he should not be. It made
Draco's life at Hogwarts a little easier at least.
Chapter 46
Hogwarts was a very different place this year. No one laughed or ran
about the corridors, everything was so strictly regimented that it was
hard to find even the tiniest cracks in the system through which to
break a rule or two. It was strange without Potter there too, Draco
thought. Ever since first year everyone had been living in the shadow
of the famous Harry Potter and now, all of a sudden he was gone.
Gone, with his two best friends. Draco worried about it very much.
Were they planning an attack on Voldemort? Until the Elder wand
was found, Draco was not happy about the idea of a confrontation.
Lucius's wand worked for Voldemort, but as Lucius grew more and
more unhappy in the service of the Dark Lord, the wand too served
its new master unwillingly.

Everyone had to find ways to cope with the new regime at Hogwarts.
This was possibly easier for Slytherin students than the others as
there was something of a natural prejudice in their favour these
days. The opposite of the last 6 year, Pansy observed when talking
to Draco in the common room.

Pansy had never been the best student, in fact, in the past people
had thought that she wasn't very bright. This year she seemed to
come into her own. She thrived on the positive feedback she got
from her teachers, rather than the criticism she had received in past
years. She worked harder and studied longer, suddenly aspiring to
things she never dreamt of.

Blaise was relieved to find that his charm and aristocracy was more
than enough to carry him through the year without having to actually
do something as hard as study. Blaise had always been bright
enough to get by without working too hard and was happy to keep it
that way. He continued to use his wealth and connections to
impress. He charmed the teachers and his behaviour to Alecto
Carrow bordered on flirtatious, who was as surprised as she was
flattered but took no heed of him.
Draco, like Pansy, took refuge in studying. He spent many long
hours in the library, pawing over old texts and scribbling frantic
notes. Nobody looked hard enough to notice that it was never a
prescribed text or NEWT subject that he was reading about.

He snuck into the restricted section and borrowed books that

students were not allowed to read. One evening, long past bedtime,
he rounded the corner of a bookcase, clutching a large volume and
walked straight into a collision with Amycus Carrow who was on
patrol looking for any miscreants.

Draco's heart pumped wildly. He was well aware of the fact the two
nastiest teachers had been trying their best to ignore him since the
start of term, and guessed it was because they knew he was
Voldemort's property. Draco hoped to the Gods this meant they
would leave him alone!

Amycus looked as terrified as Draco, if not more so, at this

encounter, for he was as cowardly a man as you could ever hope to
meet. They stared at each other for a moment, both wishing they
were not in this unfortunate situation.

Amycus was torn. Any other student caught here like this would be
tomorrows Crucio practice! But he remembered Snape's words, and
looking at Draco now, face to face, well, Draco didn't look like a slave
now. He looked angry at being disturbed in his activities and the
book he held was definitely not a school book. Perhaps he had been
instructed to get it? Although not a bright man, Amycus surmised
that challenging Draco would not be a sensible move.

Draco held Voldemort's words in his mind as he stared at Amycus…

'The others should cower before you as they do before me…' No one
knew that Voldemort felt this way yet, but Draco's knowledge of it
kept his stare brave and unyielding.

Amycus felt he had to say something. He was the teacher here and
had to take some control of the situation, if only to soothe his own
pride.
'It's very late Malfoy.' He managed. 'I trust you are returning to the
common room… if you have everything you came for… I mean… is
there anything else you need…?'

What had started as an assertive statement had rapidly turned into a

grovelling apologetic question. Draco smiled to himself. Even as
Voldemort's pet, it seemed he commanded respect.

'I have everything I need thank you Professor.' Draco said coldly as
he stepped around Amycus confidently.

'Well… Good then…' Amycus stammered. 'Get back to the common

room then, Malfoy?' He tried to rescue the encounter.

Draco turned and smiled at him with dangerous narrowed eyes.

'Good night Professor.' He said, before he turned and walked away

slowly leaving Amycus alone, grateful that the encounter was over
and that no one else had witnessed it.

Once out of sight, Draco ran, heart hammering inside his ribs. That
could have gone so wrong! He had been lucky, so lucky. Not lucky
enough that he didn't meet another Professor on his way back to the
common room, but lucky enough that this time it was Snape.

'Fuck!' Exclaimed Draco. The black figure stepping out of a doorway

right before him had made him jump.

'Language, Mr Malfoy.' Snape said dryly and Draco's face broke into
a smile.

'Fuck you!' Draco retorted.

'I think we have established the fact that that is not on the cards,
Draco.' Snape said silkily and Draco blushed a little.

'I'm going back to the common room now.' Draco said, changing the
subject quickly.
'I will walk with you.' said Snape. 'I've been hoping to talk to you for
some time now.'

'Why?' Asked Draco as they set off slowly together.

'To see how you are.' Snape answered him. 'I have not forgotten that
night…' He stopped and waited for Draco's reaction.

'Neither have I.' Said Draco. 'Or the other times you have come to
my rescue.' He added gratefully.

'And so, since then, how have you been?' Snape asked. 'How are
things, Draco?'

Draco stopped and looked at Snape coyly.

'You know enough of 'how things are' I think!' Draco said slyly.

'You're playing a game, Draco.' Snape whispered. 'Both of you.

Why?'

'You're not asking proper questions.' Draco responded. 'It sounds like
you are playing a game to me.'

'Perhaps these days, we all are.' Snape mused and he turned to

Draco and clutched his shoulders. 'Do you know what you're doing?'

'I know the rules of the game I'm playing.' Draco answered with a
confident smile. 'I helped to write them. 'Things' are fine. I am fine.'
He looked up at Snape. 'I promise.' He whispered softly.

'Good.' Whispered Snape. What Draco had just given him was
hardly an answer. But it was comforting somehow.

'I'd like to go home next week, please Professor.' Said Draco as they
continued to walk.

'You'd like to, or you have to?' Snape asked.

'I'd like to.' Draco answered. 'You know that.'

'Then you can use the flue connection from my office.' Snape
conceded.

'Thank you, Professor.' Draco said happily.

They had arrived at the common room door. Snape felt a sting of
disappointment as he would have liked to talk to Draco some more,
would have liked his company a little longer. Even with Draco's
secretiveness he felt that they talked to each other on a very equal
footing and he enjoyed informal conversations with him. Draco had
grown up so much and seemed so mature these days. Snape found
that even though he felt protective and fatherly towards Draco he
was beginning to consider him a friend also.

Snape realised he was staring at Draco. He had better say

something.

'Well then, good night Mr. Malfoy.' He said formally.

Draco smiled. He had noticed his hesitance.

'Good night Severus.' He replied and he slipped through the

common room door and out of sight.

Snape lingered in the corridor for a few seconds before he left to

head for his own rooms, relieved that Draco and he had spoken and
that it had gone some way to confirming that Draco was not as
unhappy in the Dark Lord's service as he would have others believe.

That night, Snape sat alone in his rooms staring into the fire until the
small hours of the morning. He had some soul searching to do.
Where exactly did his loyalties lie?

Draco snuck into the common room and was surprised to be met by
not just Pansy but also by Goyle.

'What are you two doing still up?' He asked incredulously.

'Could ask the same about you.' Goyle grunted.

'I've been to the library.' Draco answered. 'You up late studying,

Pans?' He asked.

'Yeah, just finishing this homework for dark arts.' She mumbled.

'Where's Blaise?' Draco asked.

'Probably knocking one out thinking about Professor Carrow.' Goyle

replied and Draco smirked.

'Which professor Carrow?' He offered and Pansy and Goyle both

laughed.

'We shouldn't laugh at him.' Pansy said with no sincerity at all. 'He's
going through an 'older woman' phase, that's all.'

'He'll be trying his charm on McGonagall next.' Draco laughed.

'To be fair, I bet she was foxy in her youth.' Pansy said reflectively.

'Didn't know you swung that way.' Goyle butted in.

'I don't.' Pansy said flatly. 'But you can still say if someone is
attractive even if you don't fancy them. Like, Draco's into guys but he
still thinks I'm gorgeous, don't you, Dray?' She teased.

Draco was a little taken back at how openly she had said it, but
decided that laughing along was the best thing to do.

'Yes, of course, Pansy darling!' He said, slumping down onto the sofa
beside her. There was something nice about this type of interaction
with his friends. Once again he remembered how much he missed
them. He made a mental note to try not to always be too
preoccupied to spend time with them.

'That true, Malfoy?' Goyle barked gruffly. 'You into blokes?'

'Yeah, I guess. Whatever.' Draco answered in a non committal tone.

'Really?!' Gawped Goyle, perching on the arm of the sofa, musing

over this information. 'How… so how does that… I mean, do you do
it to them, or do they, like, do it to you?' He asked.

Draco laughed at him.

'That's a bit of a personal question, Goyle!' He hissed smoothly. 'You

don't want me to show you, do you?' He rested his hand on Goyle's
knee causing Goyle to jump up and move across the room faster
than anyone at Hogwarts had ever seen him move before.

'No! No way, man!' He stammered and both Pansy and Draco burst
out laughing.

'Good.' Said Draco. 'Because you're really not my type, so you don't
need to worry!'

Goyle visibly relaxed.

'But for your information, they do it to me .' He drawled,

meaningfully. 'Now off you go, you can take that thought to bed with
you.' He grinned.

'Get lost!' Goyle barked. Draco laughed.

'Yeah right, Goyle. Is that your wand in your pocket or are you just
pleased to see me?'

'Fuck you.' Goyle retorted as he headed for the dormitory.

'In your dreams!' Draco called after him and was met with a rude
hand gesture and a final call of

'Night, man.' To show that it was all in jest.

Draco sighed happily. Not only was it nice to laugh with his friends,
but Goyle's total obliviousness to Draco's sexuality gave Draco
confidence that Goyle senior had never mentioned Draco's presence
at meetings or the role he seemed to play there. Meetings were
supposed to be secret anyway, but Goyle senior was not the
brightest of men.

He was just about to relax totally when Pansy grabbed his arm
sharply and he realised to his dismay that he was now in a situation
he had carefully dodged so far this year.

'Got you!' Pansy hissed. 'Finally! You have been avoiding me, and
Blaise too.'

'I've sat with you in every class!' Draco exclaimed defensively.

'You've avoided being alone with us.' Pansy spat back at him.

'No I haven't.' Draco lied.

'Bullshit!' Pansy snapped. 'You've been avoiding us and you owe us

an explanation!' Her face flushed with emotion.

'Do I really?' Draco pouted, trying to look impassive but panicking

beneath the surface.

'Yes!' She cried. 'The night Dumbledore died, you jumped out in front
of that werewolf to protect me. You saved my life!' Her eyes filled
with tears. 'He backed away when he saw you Draco. Why? Tell me
what's going on! I'm frightened for you.' She sniffed deeply, stifling a
sob. 'You are my best friend and I'm worried. You disappeared that
night with professor Snape. Where did you go? What happened?
Please tell me, please trust me.'

Pansy's impassioned monologue had given Draco a moment to

consider the problem and construct an answer. He sighed and took
her hands.

'I'm sorry Pans.' He began. 'I don't know why there were death
eaters in the school that night, but it's common knowledge that in the
past my father was involved in the movement. You know that, right?'

She nodded.

'Snape took me home that night, worried I would be in danger if I had

seen too much. But he doesn't know the whole story.' He paused.

'Go on.' She urged him.

'The werewolf's name is Fenrir Greyback.' Draco continued. 'He is

particularly vicious and attacks even when it's not a full moon. I just
chanced that he wouldn't attack me because he knows my father, or
at least, he did in the past. I was just lucky that it paid off.'

'That was a huge risk, Dray!' Pansy gasped.

'They don't really want to attack pure bloods anyway, we are the
ones the Dark Lord hopes to recruit after all.' Draco said without
thinking.

'The Dark Lord?' Pansy echoed. 'What do you know about the Dark
Lord, Draco? Are you one of them, are you a death eater?' She
whispered anxiously.

'Of course not!' Draco retorted rolling up his sleeve and baring his
forearm. 'See? No dark mark here.'

Pansy smiled, she seemed relieved.

'But you do know them, don't you?' She whispered.

Draco decided to take a gamble. Give her enough of a confession to

satisfy her but without having to give her the whole, real truth which
she probably wouldn't believe anyway.

'Yes, ok. I know a few of them.' He sighed. 'Although my father isn't

actively involved he still supports them and from time to time they
meet at our house. I've even spoken to a couple of them, but they
are a secretive bunch. They don't give much away. They have
always been nice to me, out of loyalty to my family I expect.'

Draco paused and watched Pansy's reaction. Had this been

enough?

'You are in a relationship with one of them, aren't you?' She

breathed.

Draco hoped his shock didn't show up on his face. Where had she
got that idea from?

'What makes you say that?' He asked.

'In 5th year, the lover you wouldn't tell anyone about. I guessed it
then.' She seemed to have taken Draco's question as a confession.

Draco nodded. If this was the confession she wanted he would give
it to her in the hope she would leave him alone.

'OK. Yes, I am involved with someone.' This was true. 'But he's not
actually a death eater…' This was also true. 'But he is involved with
the movement…' True again. 'But look, Pansy, you have to promise
that you won't tell anyone about this, not even Blaise, you
understand?' He pleaded.

'Of course!' She whispered. 'I would never tell anyone your secrets,
Draco, you know that!'

Draco smiled, he did know that. He hoped the heavy conversation

was over.

'I've never told any of your secrets either.' He smiled. 'I never told
anyone about that time at primary school when you showed your
knickers to Marcus Flint.'

Pansy pouted and gave him a punch on the arm which was actually
quite hard.
'Ouch!' Draco yelped.

'I never told anyone about how you used to beg to wear my dresses
when we played together as kids.' She retorted. 'And I certainly didn't
mention that this went on until second year at Hogwarts.'

Draco smirked, he had almost forgotten these childhood things. It

was nice to remember them, to remember that he had had a life
before Voldemort came into it.

'You'd never tell anyone that because then you'd have to admit how
much better I looked in them than you did!' He retorted and she
laughed at him.

'I love you, Draco.' She said, suddenly and sincerely.

'You usually only tell me that when you're drunk!' Draco said. 'And
then you tell everyone you love them!'

'I'm serious.' She said in a low voice. 'You are like a brother to me
and I don't know what I'd do without you.'

'I'll be fine, Pansy, honestly. You don't need to worry.' Draco assured
her.

'Will I get to meet him?' She asked suddenly.

'What?' Draco gasped, a scene flooding his mind where he

introduced his friend Pansy Parkinson to Lord Voldemort…

'Well you've been involved with him a while now, I guess it's pretty
serious.' She said.

'Yes.' Draco answered her, really not wanting to have this

conversation. 'After we finish this year at school, I guess you will get
to meet him then.' Draco flinched uncomfortably.

'What's his name?' She asked.

'Errrrr…' Draco thought hard. 'I can't tell you that.' He concluded,
slightly disconcerted that her question had prompted him to realise
that he didn't actually know Voldemort's name. He assumed he
hadn't always been called Lord Voldemort. Draco realised that in 2
years he had never addressed Voldemort by name. He referred to
him as Voldemort on the rare occasions he had mentioned him to
others, namely Snape. He called him 'my Lord' when they spoke
directly although often he forgot to do so and had never been
admonished for it. It seemed obscene somehow, not to know your
lovers name.

Pansy seemed to accept that he couldn't tell her and didn't push him.
Instead she asked,

'Do you love him, Dray? Is it the real thing?'

After a pause Draco answered.

'Yes. Yes, I think it is.'

Chapter 47
It was good to get home, to get away from the tight regime that was
Hogwarts. Draco took a full day to relax and to spend time with his
parents before he thought about going to Voldemort. He thought this
was a good thing, he felt secure enough that he didn't have to rush
there straight away. However the concepts of 'relaxing' and
'spending time with his parents' seemed to have become polar
opposites as he found them to be hard work, depending on him to
organise things and make plans.

They simply wanted to be gentle with him, to avoid pushing him or

making demands he was not happy with. They let him take the lead
and did as he wished. All it really did was make him feel a little
stressed and as a result he was even more happy to be going to the
Dark Lord.

He had seemed a little tense when he arrived on the Tuesday

afternoon, Voldemort thought. But it was nothing a good long hard
fuck session in the shower couldn't fix. That, and copious amounts of
wine in the evening before bed. By Wednesday, Draco was quite
relaxed and happy again and wondering why he hadn't come straight
here after all.

He perched on the edge of the desk in the library, clad only in a

loose fitting black shirt of a traditional cut, quite long and worn open
at the neck. His hair was unbrushed and he had his chain and
padlock around his neck. Sitting there, knees drawn up he looked
every bit the debauched aristocrat, a sulky pout on his face as he
sucked on an acid pop lolly. It looked rather suggestive, Voldemort
thought as he glanced at him from across the room.

Voldemort was looking through some of the old volumes which were
stored in the library, for a particular scroll he needed. Although he
had a feeling it was not here at all and he may as well give up
looking and pay Draco some attention instead. But he had a meeting
with the new minister for magic in an hour, so Draco may have to
wait…

'I can't believe the wand maker has held out as long as he has, you
know.' Draco mused.

'Yes, he has rather surprised me.' Said Voldemort. 'But he'll crack
soon, I've seen it before.' He replaced a book on the shelf.

'I hope so.' Said Draco. 'The sooner you get that wand the better.'

Voldemort smiled. Draco was so concerned for his welfare.

Draco finished his acid pop and crunched it loudly.

'So, what are you doing today?' He asked, watching Voldemort tidy
the books.

'Meeting with Pius Thicknesse in an hour.' Voldemort replied. 'I

suppose I should prepare the things I need.' He stopped and gazed
at Draco.

'I suppose you should.' Draco replied. 'But first you should come over
here and fuck me right now.' He added in a matter of fact tone.

Voldemort folded his arms and stared at his pouting playful pet.

'You know, you're very bossy for a submissive, Draco!' Voldemort

hissed as he walked slowly across the room towards him.

'I'm sorry.' Draco said, sounding like a person who was not in the
least bit sorry about anything.

Voldemort stood before him, towering over him. He took hold of his
legs and pulled him towards him.

'Oh it's quite alright pet, I'm used to your demands.' He leant down
and pressed his open mouth over Draco's forcing his tongue
between Draco's lips. Draco responded gratefully feeling the heat
rush to his groin, he longed for Voldemort to take him. Preferably
right here on the desk.

'Fuck me now, before your meeting.' He smiled playfully once

Voldemort stopped kissing him. 'I don't think I can wait until after.'

Voldemort gave a playful sigh.

'Your wish is my command, sweetheart.' He drawled. There was an

hour before his appointment and, well, Thicknesse could wait, damn
it. 'I'm the Dark Lord, I can do what I like!' Voldemort reminded
himself.

Draco removed his shirt and was completely naked apart from his
chain. Voldemort liked it very much when Draco was naked and he
was fully clothed, it emphasised his own power and Draco's
vulnerability. Draco put his feet on the ground and leant back against
the desk so that Voldemort could get a good long look at him.

Voldemort's eyes explored Draco's body prompting his hands to do

the same. He touched his neck, ran his hands down over his
shoulders and chest, his smooth toned stomach. He caresses his
slender thighs, his hips, reached round to feel the curve of his ass.
He touched him everywhere, almost everywhere. He carefully and
teasingly avoided the one place where Draco most wanted to be
touched.

Draco had a gorgeous cock. Long, pink and rock solid. Voldemort
admired it for a moment. He often was so preoccupied with fucking
Draco's ass that he forgot just how hot his dick was. Today he
intended to pay it his full attention.

Casting a lubrication charm over his hands so that they were

thoroughly wet and slippery, he reached down and cupped Draco's
balls with one hand, taking hold of his cock with the other. He rolled
his balls in the palm of his hand, squeezing and teasing them
causing Draco to moan with pleasure. His long fingers wrapped
around Draco's dick and his hand slipped sensuously back and forth,
the wetness feeling like liquid silk.

Draco closed his eyes, his head tilting back, his hands gripping the
edge of the desk. How could a hand job feel this good?

'Oh Fuck yeah!' Draco gasped, thrusting his hips forward, rutting his
cock into Voldemort's wet cold fist. He trembled with need.

Voldemort smiled as Draco so willingly surrendered to pleasure. He

flicked his thumb over the head of Draco's cock, spreading his pre
come into the wetness of the lube.

Draco gasped as this most sensitive place was repeatedly caressed,

all the while Voldemort worked his hand up and down the length of
his shaft. The excessive amount of lube that Voldemort had conjured
meant that his hands slid over all of Draco's intimate area with ease.
One finger slid back behind his balls and teasingly began to probe as
his hole.

Draco whimpered needily and rutted into Voldemort's hand

frantically.

'Fuck, you're so good!' He gasped, still gripping the desk in an

attempt to remain standing.

'You're a little pleasure whore!' Voldemort hissed at him. 'So

demanding.'

'But you're just so fucking good at it.' Draco gasped, playfully as

Voldemort continued to pump his hand back and forth.

'Some times I think you are just using me, Draco.' Voldemort laughed
as he watched Draco tremble in ecstasy.

'Of course.' Replied Draco, with an amazing skill to backchat even

though he was so desperately close to orgasm. 'I'm only here for one
thing!'
'Well I wouldn't want to disappoint you, you horny little slut. I'm going
to give you that 'one thing' you're after. Then I'll do loads of other
nasty things to you too, things you've never even imagined!'

'Ahh, fuck!' Cried Draco, his whole body tensing. The very promise in
Voldemort's words was about to push him over the edge.

A couple more tugs and Draco came hard. Came all over
Voldemort's hand and down the front of his robes with a deep moan.
Voldemort was mind blowing, Draco thought, although his thoughts
were far from coherent! Voldemort was such a skilled lover, it was
frightening.

Draco's breathing began to slow back down, but Voldemort was far
from done with him. He had been very generous with pleasure for his
slave, now it was time to use him for his own ends.

He roughly took hold of Draco and spun him round. Grabbing the
back of his neck, he pushed him roughly so that he bent over the
desk.

'Spread your cheeks for me.' Voldemort commanded him.

Draco, his face resting on the black leather surface of the desk,
placed his hands on his ass cheeks and pulled them apart so that he
was fully exposed. He was such an obedient and willing little slave,
such a good little pet, Voldemort thought. He just couldn't resist
attending further to Draco's pleasure.

He dropped to his knees behind Draco and placed his mouth over
Draco's opening. His tongue swept over Draco's ring and Draco
gasped. Voldemort bit gently at the puckered hole, slipping his
tongue inside and sucking hard. Draco shook, breathless and blown
away by the intensity and intimacy of it. Voldemort ate Draco's ass
until Draco was hard again and shivering with delight.

Draco always felt somewhat vulnerable and exposed whenever

Voldemort did this to him. It felt dirtier than being fucked somehow,
dirtier than giving head. The fact that the Dark Lord would do
something this filthy to him completely blew his mind. Not to mention
that with each teasing thrust of his tongue, Voldemort made Draco all
the more desperate to be penetrated and fucked.

At last Voldemort stood up and looked at his pet, whom he had

reduced to a trembling mass of pure lust and desire. He unfastened
his robes and took hold of his own hard cock. He pressed the head
to Draco's entrance and, with a whispered Lubrication charm, he
drove the full length into him. He had spent a good deal of time
pleasuring Draco and now it was his turn.

Draco yelped as he was taken roughly, Voldemort ploughing him

hard and fast. He slammed into Draco violently, and Draco's face
was knocked into the hard surface of the desk repeatedly. One of
Voldemort's hands gripped Draco's shoulder and the other just by his
hip.

Voldemort could fuck so hard and aggressively when the mood took
him. Draco absolutely loved it like this. He loved the contrast
between Voldemort's violent poundings and the gentle, tender care
he was capable of giving afterwards. His love felt so complete. His
lover could offer him a whole spectrum of physical experience and
he loved every shade of it. He loved the way Voldemort's cock
hammered against his prostate as if he was trying to beat a second
orgasm out of him. He loved the pain where Voldemort gripped him
far too tightly and his sharp nails dug into his skin. He even loved the
bruises which were starting to appear on the side of his face where
he had been slammed into the desk over and over again.

Voldemort was hardly even aware that he was hurting Draco. He

was aware mostly that Draco was happy, exhilarated and that he
wanted him. He was aware that he could throw Draco around and he
forceful with him, but it usually surprised him afterwards when Draco
was marked. This because Draco's emotional state never changed
throughout. He didn't want him less when he hurt him, he just
gratefully received everything he was given and insatiably asked for
more. It felt good to be so adored!
Draco's ambiguous pleasure/pain cries were taking Voldemort closer
and closer to climax. He could make Draco come again, but this was
all about his own pleasure now. Draco had been taken care of and
now Voldemort wanted to fuck him firmly and selfishly. A series of
short sharp thrusts took him over the edge and he shot his load into
Draco's ass with an aggressive hissing growl.

Pulling out of Draco he straightened his robes out and cast a

cleaning charm over himself. He did not cast one over Draco. He
watched with a smile as Draco, panting with desire, used his hands
to push himself up from the desk. He was flushed, sweaty and
bruised and once again, hard as a rock. He stared at Voldemort
hungrily as if demanding to know 'what are you going to do about
this…?

'You have made me late for my meeting Draco.' Voldemort hissed at

him. 'I'm going to go now and you will have to wait for me to return.'

Draco looked at him, wide eyed and pleading.

'Go to the bedroom and wait for me.' Voldemort commanded. 'The
cupboard is unlocked. There is a big black rubber cock in there,
which I want you to fuck yourself with while I'm gone.'

Once again, Voldemort's words alone had Draco on the edge.

'When I come back I want you to show me what you have been
doing. Show me all the ways you like to fuck yourself and if I'm
impressed with you I will fuck you so hard and so long that you forget
your own name.' Voldemort smiled.

Draco panted with lust. He could hardly wait to follow his

instructions!

Voldemort apparated away without another word. He was 20 minutes

late for his meeting. It didn't really matter but he made a mental note
to thoroughly spank Draco when he returned as a punishment for
delaying him.
Breathless and delirious, Draco stumbled to the bedroom to amuse
himself while he waited for his lovers return. His eyes widened with
delight when he saw the range of toys in the cupboard, but he took
the one he had been instructed to use. This was new to him, he had
never done this before. He loved how even after all this time
Voldemort could still surprise him and lead him on new sexual
adventures. However much fun he had in the next hour or so he
knew it would be so much better when Voldemort returned. He could
hardly wait!
Chapter 48
Once again it was hard for Draco to go back to school, especially as
he knew it would probably be the Christmas holidays before he saw
Voldemort again, but he reluctantly accepted that he really should
spend at least some time focusing on passing his NEWTs.

It was a really term, school was such a bleak place to be these days,
especially with all the dementors hovering around the grounds.
Draco had a fleeting moment of empathy for Potter and his fear of
them now. If one got too close to him his mind seemed to trip back to
the night of Dumbledores death. Wormtail's taunting of him and the
mental images it created, of Voldemort with others… The Dark Lord
casting the torture curse on him and those moments when he felt
himself slipping away… It made his blood run cold. There was a
spell to repel dementors. Perhaps he'd look into learning it.

Christmas however, bought with it reasons to celebrate. Voldemort

did not give all the details but on Christmas eve he had been able to
learn the identity of the wizard who had stolen the Elder wand. Now
it was just a case of finding him.

Draco had been ready for some good news and it made returning to
school in January a little easier because he could do so knowing that
Voldemort was making progress hunting for the wand. Once he had
it, Draco could relax a little… he hoped.

He threw himself into his studies, regular school studies, this term.
He even tracked down Amycus Carrow for some advice on an
assignment, poor Amycus doing everything he could to help him.
Even grading him a little higher than he deserved, just to be on the
safe side. He and Pansy studied hard, and Blaise joined them from
time to time. Draco went home every few weeks, for a weekend visit
and was surprised just how quickly the spring term passed.
He went home for the Easter holidays, well and truly ready for a
break from studying. He was determined to rest, however
challenging that would be at the manor.

Lucius was very withdrawn, he still looked pale and ill, in fact he
didn't seem to have improved at all since he returned from Azkaban.
Draco felt a little guilty about this as it was undoubtedly because he
was concerned about how Draco was being treated. However, it
didn't alter Draco's resolve to keep quiet.

The first week of the Easter holidays had been rather enjoyable, and
not the complete disaster that extended periods of time with his
parents sometimes were. He had spent the first couple of days with
Voldemort. They hadn't seen each other for 3 weeks and had some
lost time to make up. Only when he was completely exhausted, did
Draco agree to go home and see his parents for a couple of days. It
was all going well. A little too well.

The dark clouds began to descend when Bellatrix arrived. She was
more effective than a dementor at lowering the mood, it was almost
impressive. She insisted on crowing on and on about the prisoners
being held at the manor, something Draco tried his best to ignore. He
didn't enjoy the fact, but their captivity there was unavoidable, a
means to an ends. Certainly the wand maker, Olivander had
probably served his purpose, but it was best to keep hold of him, just
in case. Draco tried not to think about it, it was just the way it had to
be for the moment.

Bellatrix just wanted to talk about the prisoners constantly. She was
like a child with a toy that she just couldn't keep in the box. She
wanted to go and get a prisoner and torture them, just to see if she
could get any more information… Which was nonsense, she had
very little interest in information, she just wanted to hurt someone. It
was tiresome and infuriating, not to mention a little disturbing.

Draco didn't think the day could get any worse when all of a sudden,
out of nowhere a group of snatchers arrived at the manor with 3
rather too familiar captives.
It was definitely Weasel and the mudblood. Hell, it was definitely
Potter as well, although he looked terrible! Draco was sure he had
been a bit better looking than that last time he saw him, but it was
him, for sure.

Draco's heart pounded. Why were they here? Had they allowed
themselves to be caught on purpose to mount an attack? Were a
group of Aurors about to arrive at any moment? Draco hated to
admit it, but that mudblood was clever, she probably had a plan. It
was unlikely that they were here by any kind of accident and
Voldemort was still vulnerable!

Bellatrix gleefully grabbed Potter and insisted that Draco come and
take a good look at him. Lucius urged him on, telling him that if they
could be the ones to capture Potter and hand him over to the Dark
Lord then they would be restored in the Dark Lord's esteem. Draco
franticly searched his mind for the best course of action. He
approached slowly to buy himself more time.

Lucius was a desperate man. If only they could do this, if only they
could restore their status with the Dark Lord. All would be well again!
The Dark Lord might even spare Draco the mistreatment he
suffered. They could begin to rebuild their crumbling life as a family!
But Draco was so hesitant. He approached the captive reluctantly
and fearfully. The poor boy must be so afraid, Lucius thought, and it
was hardly surprising.

Draco stared into Potters face, shielding his thoughts with all his
might. There was no question about who it was. He would recognise
those green eyes anywhere after all the times they had glared at him
in class and on the quidditch pitch, trying to intimated him and stare
him down.

'If we summon the Dark Lord in error he will kill us all!' Bellatrix
hissed at Draco, her narrow eyes fixing him to the spot. He could feel
the hatred radiating from her.

'I… I can't be sure.' Draco replied nervously.

He had no qualms about summoning the Dark Lord, and he knew full
well that the boy was Potter. However, if this was a trap, or even if it
were just an accident, it was not safe for Voldemort to have to face
Potter until he had the Elder wand. So Draco lied.

'It might be. I really can't be sure.'

'But what about these two?' Lucius pleaded with him. 'These are his
friends, aren't they?'

This was a little more difficult to deny, but fortunately Bellatrix was
distracted at this point by the discovery of a sword which had been in
Grangers possessions.

Draco didn't recognise the sword, but Bellatrix was furious. She
screamed about how Granger must have stolen it from her vault at
Gringotts. The day was about to take another downwards turn.

It was not pleasant listening to Bellatrix torture Hermione, however

much Draco disliked the pair of them. Potter had been thrown into
the dungeon where he was now unsupervised. Draco considered
trying to warn Voldemort right away, but there was no time. He felt to
out of control of any of the events that were unfolding. It was as if he
were watching them play out in a dream which went from bad to
worse.

Before he knew what was happening, their old house elf, of all
creatures, had sprung Potter and all of the other prisoners out of the
cell. Draco's panic began to rise. Potter looked normal again and
everyone could see it was him. Lucius was about to summon
Voldemort! Just before the words could leave his lips, the elf dropped
a chandelier from the ceiling almost hitting Bellatrix and Narcissa.
Draco grabbed Bellatrix's wand which she had dropped, and held it
tightly with his own.

Suddenly Potter was upon him, grabbing the wands. He was going
to try and take them from him. Draco was torn. If he let go, Potter
would have his wand, and Bellatrix's too. But if Potter got the wands
it looked like he would make an escape. Yes, it seemed Potter and
his companions were aiming to retreat, not attack. If they didn't get
away, Voldemort would be summoned and he would be vulnerable…
Unless Draco told Bellatrix not to summon him, but then he would
have to explain why. Then Potter, Weasel and the mudblood would
know of Voldemort's weakness. The stakes were high, very high.
Draco's first concern was to protect his lover from harm.

He let go of the wands. He had held them long enough to make it

look like he had put up a fight, but this done, he purposefully and
intentionally released them. Potter no doubt felt him let go, but he
hurried away so fast that any surprise he may have felt didn't show.

Potter disappeared, the prisoners with him. Draco's heart raced. He

was wandless. He had to see Voldemort, had to warn him how close
Potter had been. Maybe he would not go back to school in summer
but would help Voldemort find this wand…

Fortunately Bellatrix was also wandless as she was utterly furious

and looked like she may well have killed Draco on the spot if she had
been given the chance.

'You useless brat!' She cried, lunging towards him.

Draco jumped back out of the way and Lucius, in a rare act of
bravery, stepped in front of his son. Narcissa held her sister back.

'You might be able to avoid my rage Draco, but you won't escape the
Dark Lord this time!' She screamed as Narcissa dragged her
towards the door. 'He'll kill you this time, like he should have done
before. You mark my words you pathetic child!'

Draco shook. Not because of Bellatrix's threats, but because he was

angry. Angry at being treated this way. He had had enough of people
disrespecting him all the time. And he was scared. Scared that
Potter may be about to go and find Voldemort and attack him. He
had to act fast.
Narcissa ordered everyone to leave and she stepped outside into the
grounds with her sister. The snatchers left although Greyback
lingered, perhaps out of curiosity about what would happen next.
The Malfoy family were always good for some drama, they were so
arrogant and proud.

Narcissa was a bright woman, she knew her family and she knew
her son. She had been suspicious of Draco's behaviour of late, and
this odd encounter intrigued her further. She would attempt to calm
her psychotic sister first, then she fully intended to interrogate her
son!

Draco wanted to explain, he really did, but now was not the time.
Lucius turned to him once they were alone, expecting some kind of
confession, explanation or story, but none came. All Draco said was

'I need to go somewhere, now.' His voice was breathless and his
eyes were wide with panic.

'Where…' Lucius began.

'Later!' Draco shouted as he ran from the room.

He charged to his room and grabbed the portkey. It was not glowing,
it would not work. Draco flung it down on the bed with a cry of
frustration. He could apparate to the house, but there was no point. If
the portkey was not glowing then Voldemort was not there. What
could he do? He felt so powerless. This was when he realised that
having the dark mark would actually have been really useful!

His father! His father had the dark mark. He could do it for him.
Draco ran back down stairs and grabbed hold of Lucius's arm.

'What's the matter Draco?' Lucius gasped, thoroughly taken back at

the way his son had accosted him.

'Call him.' Draco gasped. 'Summon him here… NOW! Do it now!'

Lucius seemed to turn a shade paler.

'Are… are you sure, Draco?' He stammered. 'If we call him without
good reason he…'

'Just DO it!' Draco shouted. He had never shouted at his father

before in his life.

'Can't you…' Lucius began.

'I don't have the mark. Just call him now!' Draco shouted, tears in his
eyes.

Terrified though he was, Lucius tentatively obeyed his son.

Voldemort appeared in the room in a cloud of black smoke. He

looked rather taken a back to have been summoned by Lucius,
Lucius tended to avoid him as much as possible these days and
didn't ever seek him of his own free will.

'Lucius…' He began. 'You have a good reason for calling me here, I

assume…?'

Before Lucius could even attempt an answer, Draco leapt forward

and flung himself at Voldemort.

'I need to talk to you.' He gasped wildly.

He didn't say 'my Lord', Lucius noticed immediately, and panicked

about how Draco would be punished for this lack of respect.
However, Voldemort did not look angry, if anything he looked
concerned.

'You may talk to me in the dining room, Draco.' Voldemort said

calmly. He took hold of Draco's arm. He turned to Lucius. 'We do
NOT wish to be disturbed.' And with that he half dragged Draco to
the dining room and closed the door behind them.
He had been about to ask Draco what in the name of Salazar was
the matter and why Lucius had summoned him like that. Before he
had a chance to speak Draco was upon him, hugging him tightly and
kissing him. As nice as this was, it seemed a little over dramatic
even by Draco's standards Voldemort thought. Then he noticed
something. Draco's face was wet. Wet with tears.

Voldemort stroked Draco's back in a soothing way and asked in a

cool voice,

'What's the matter pet?'

'Potter.' Draco whispered at last. 'Potter was here. He wasn't alone.

He had his friend and that devious mudblood with him…'

'Come, sit down.' Voldemort urged, it was clear that Draco was
deeply distressed. He lead him to the table and they sat beside one
another.

'I don't know if they came here on purpose, some kind of an attack,
but Bellatrix was here and…'

Voldemort sighed, he had an idea where this was going.

'She was insisting we summon you, but I knew that it wasn't a good
idea not until you have the wand. Potter and his friends got away, but
he stole my wand and aunty Bella's. I had to warn you. I had to let
you know how close they were. I was so worried they were going to
find you!'

Draco was shaking, the poor thing. Voldemort gently stroked his
face.

'It's ok though love.' He smiled. 'It's all ok. You can use my wand for
the time being as I have some excellent news concerning the other
wand.'

Draco's eyes lit up. Some good news at last!

'You do?!' He gasped.

Voldemort was just about to answer when the door was flung open
with a loud crash. A woman screamed and a man was shouting.

'Bella, NO! He is not to be disturbed!'

Both Voldemort and Draco stared in shock as Bellatrix stormed into

the room in a furious rage. Narcissa close behind her, pleading with
her to stop. Lucius and Grayback followed them, also trying their
best to halt the freight train of anger that was Bellatrix.

'Kill him, my Lord!' She shrieked, pointing wildly at Draco. 'Kill him!
He let Potter escape! He deserves to die. He wouldn't identify Potter
and because of that he got away. Kill him, please, don't let him live
again!' She pleaded.

Narcissa sobbed in horror as her own sister pleaded for Draco's

death. Lucius held her tightly. Even Grayback was shocked that
Bellatrix begged so desperately for her own nephew to be killed.

Voldemort glared at all of them.

'How DARE you come in here like this when I said I was not to be
disturbed!' He roared, making Lucius and Narcissa jump in fright.

Bellatrix would not give this up easily however. This was her chance.
Her chance to get rid of Draco. If only she could make Voldemort see
sense.

'Why keep him alive, my Lord?' She asked imploringly. 'He has failed
you before, he is not only useless but he is a liability. Get rid of the
wretch!' She snapped, looking at Draco. She was desperate. 'He's
nothing special my Lord, really! If it's boys you want I'm sure Severus
could bring you any number of them from that school of his!'

'ENOUGH!' Shouted Voldemort, silencing her only for a second.

'We had Potter captive, my Lord.' She continued, a little more quietly.
'We were about to summon you. Draco was stalling, playing for time.
He didn't want us to call you to kill Potter. You must see reason. You
must kill him for this! How could you possibly excuse this?'

Voldemort glanced at Draco. How did he answer that? He could

have simply ordered them out of the room, but it was clear that
Bellatrix was not about to let this drop in a hurry having just risked
her own life by continuing to question him about it when he had told
her 'enough'. Draco and Voldemort stared at each other for a
moment. The game was up.

Exasperated, Draco stood up suddenly and ran his hands through

his hair.

'Oh shut up, Aunty Bella!' He snapped. It was hard to tell who
amongst the audience was most shocked. He took a deep breath.

'The Dark Lord has only my father's wand to use at the moment, it is
not strong enough to face Potter with.' Draco hissed.

Bellatrix looked as if she were about to speak but Draco continued.

'Potter is dangerous and if you don't recognise that than you are
even more of a fool than I imagined. The Dark Lord must not be in a
position where he has to face him until he has a more powerful wand
at his command.' Draco walked over to Voldemort and rested his
hand on his. 'It's too bigger risk.' He concluded calmly.

Voldemort glanced at Draco and nodded in agreement.

Their true relationship was being revealed to this select group but
somehow it didn't seem to matter now. Six months ago, when Draco
had been injured and had nearly died, their relationship had felt
fragile and like they needed to keep it a secret. They had felt the
need to protect their love while they grew closer and closer. Now
they were so close it didn't matter if others knew. They were strong
and solid. The pretence had served its purpose, but it was no longer
needed.

The four spectators stood in stunned silence. Voldemort rose from

his chair.

'I am greatly displeased by your behaviour Bellatrix.' He began. 'And

it seems that all of you have forgotten any manners at all. I have
killed people for less, and have no concerns about doing so again.'

'Please, my Lord, forgive us.' Lucius stammered, sounding terrified.

Voldemort turned to him and spoke calmly.

'Your son is correct, Lucius. The wand you so very kindly gave me
lacks the power for me to face Potter. However a plan is well
underway to acquire an appropriate one.'

'We did not know, my Lord.' Lucius continued. 'We are sorry.'

'So very sorry, my Lord.' Breathed Bellatrix. 'Had I known…' She

began.

'As your behaviour has just proven, Bellatrix, you are far too erratic
to be trusted and confided in these days!' Voldemort hissed and
Bellatrix looked as if she had just been stabbed. 'It is only because of
your years of loyal service that I have not already begun to torture
you for this episode this evening.'

Voldemort stood beside Draco and took hold of his arm.

'For the time being I will leave you all to fight like children amongst
yourselves. Draco and I have things to discuss and would rather do
so elsewhere.'

'My Lord, please…' Bellatrix began.

'Silence!' Hissed Voldemort.

He took a firm hold of Draco, who couldn't resist giving Bellatrix the
tiniest gloating smile, after all he had been through. They apparated
away without another word.

Bellatrix stood staring after them, aghast. If she had she a heart it
would have broken. Which bit had been more painful? Being told that
Voldemort was disappointed with her, or seeing the way he held that
obnoxious little brat and seeing them disappear together. Together.
She could not bring herself to speak.

'I think you should leave now.' Narcissa spoke at last, breaking the
silence. 'Lucius and I have had enough of visitors for today.'

'Of course.' Said Greyback. 'Come on Bellatrix. After that

performance you are lucky to still be walking around.'

She scowled at him.

'Goodnight, Lucius, Sissy.' She said trying to recover her pride after
her appalling emotional outburst.

Lucius simply nodded. Narcissa did nothing, she would not forgive
her sister easily for this.
Chapter 49
Outside in the entrance hall, Bellatrix had never been more glad to
be leaving the manor in all her life. She felt sick. A gnawing, tearing
pain was shredding her from the inside.

Greyback closed the dining room door behind him and turned to
Bellatrix.

'How about that then, Bella?' He remarked, staring at her.

'About what?' She snapped. 'And don't call me Bella!'

'Your little nephew, that's what.' Greyback continued. 'Seems he's

quite the little confidant of the Dark Lord after all. I suppose that's
good news for your family, which you will need after that little
display!'

'Why should that be good news?' Bellatrix pouted angrily.

'His high esteem and closeness with the Dark Lord is an honour,
surely? Funny, because I'd assumed he was just using him, you
know, with the way he treats him. I guess it's all just some perverted
sex game or something.' He laughed, and gave Bellatrix a playful jab
with his elbow.

'Huh…' She muttered in response, without cracking a smile.

About to hand her her cloak, Greyback paused and stared at her,
eyebrows raised.

'Oh Gods Bella! Please tell me you're not still holding a candle in that
direction, are you?' He said half laughing. 'You're barking up the
wrong tree there, darlin'.'

Bellatrix defensively snatched her cloak from him.

'My devotion to the service of the Dark Lord is, and always has been
entirely professional.' She retorted angrily and Greyback smirked.
'And you will address me properly if you wish me to continue to talk
to you.' She hissed.

'Very well, madam Lestrange.' Said Greyback formally.

'That's better.' Bellatrix replied, her bruised and fragile ego comforted
by his respectful tone of voice.

'Perhaps you will do me the honour of allowing me to buy you a

drink, madam Lestrange?' Greyback continued, a dangerous sparkle
in his eyes.

Bellatrix sighed crossly. If there was one thing she could really do
with right now, it was a drink. She scowled at him angrily.

'Just this once.' She snapped.

They apparated to Knockturn Alley and headed for a particularly dark

and intimidating pub, The Screaming Banshee. The place had a
terrible reputation and had always been something of a traditional
haunt for death eaters. The music was often loud, the staff were
usually coarse and the drinks were always illegally strong. On this
occasion it was as dark and shadowy as ever, and Bellatrix was glad
of this as she didn't want to be seen to be socialising in such a low
establishment and with a half-breed too! Death eater she may be,
but she was also an aristocrat and woe betide anyone who ever
dared forget that.

At the bar Greyback barked instructions for a bottle of liquor and two
glasses before he and Bellatrix headed to a secluded table in the
corner of the room.

He'd ordered such a strong drink on purpose, as a challenge no

doubt. She was sure of it. She had seen him drink before. In larger
groups they had shared drinks in the past, congratulating each other
on the evenings killings and such. In fact it was fair to say she got on
well with him, as he had a similar bloodlust to herself, but it still
would not do to have him get above his station and be over familiar
with her as he had tried to do at the manor. And she would not be
challenged by his drinking and bravado. Fearlessly she downed a
glass of liquor in one go.

Greyback smirked.

'You needed that, then?' He smiled, taking a leisurely sip of his drink.

'Pour me another.' She demanded.

'Of course, my lady.' He grinned. She took her time over this one.

The pub was noisy, which made it hard to talk. It meant sitting very
close to anyone if you wanted to try to talk at all. They said very little
to each other but Greyback leered close to her each time he topped
up her drink.

Bellatix had known instantly that Greyback was offering her more
than just a drink. She hardly needed to use her skills at Legilimens to
know he was prepared to give her more than just a shoulder to cry
on. How dare he even contemplate the idea, the dirty, disgusting
animal? The very idea of it turned her stomach… in a way that she
rather liked. It would be filthy, hard and ugly. It would be unnatural,
obscene and wrong. Exactly how she liked it.

He had an animal smell about him, primal and base. He had the
manners of an animal and the behaviour of one too. Without warning
he moved very close to Bellatrix and slipped his huge paw-like hand
under her skirts.

She glared at him angrily but did not flinch and as his hand moved
higher she shifted slightly, parting her legs allowing his hand to slip
between them.

She kept her features reticent as his thumb pressed her most
sensitive point and began to rub firmly in a circular motion. She
clenched her fists momentarily and gave a sharp sigh, which could
have been either anger or lust, before she took drink. With his free
hand he poured her another.

She pouted crossly and closed her eyes for a moment as she felt the
heat intensify between her legs and a moistness inside her as her
body began to respond to the stimulation. Greyback sensed this and
began to work his fingers between her outer lips, keen to dip them
into the source of her growing wetness. Bellatrix shifted again,
opening her legs a little more.

Greyback smiled a satisfied and wicked smile as he slipped his long

rough middle finger inside her. He continued to rub her clit as his
finger penetrated her wet hole. 'She needs this so bad! ' He thought
to himself. 'That husband of hers clearly isn't up to the job. She
hasn't had any for a while, I reckon, that's why she's ready so quick.'

He was right, it had been a while, and hell, she did need it! His
thoughtless groping, his rough hands, his animalistic touching of her,
in public no less, had certainly awakened a need which had been
sleeping in her for some time. Her body was now aware of its need,
and she felt a hunger within her that needed satisfying, an emptiness
that needed filling.

He leant closer to her and pushed two fingers up inside her, filling
her in a way that caused her to desperately want more. She gritted
her teeth and then downed her drink. Slamming the glass down on
the table she turned to him.

'Let's go.' She said flatly.

'Of course, my lady.' Greyback smiled.

He apparated them not to a house, but to a cave in the forest. He

glanced at her face on their arrival to see if she was cross or
offended by this choice of location. If she was she gave nothing
away.
She stood facing him and glared into his eyes, looking every bit as
cross as she had looked back at the manor. Without speaking, she
began to unfasten her corset and then her dress beneath it. She
removed them both and stood naked before him. He in turn tore off
his clothes which only ever seemed to loosely cover him in his
perpetual semi-wolf state.

He almost began to salivate at the sight of her body. She had a

remarkable physique, full breasts and a curve to her hips, strong
thighs, defined collar bones, a small waist… he licked his lips as he
approached her. His rough hairy hands grasped her breasts and
squeezed them, flicking over the nipples, before running down her
body and over her sensuous hips.

'You had better not bite me, you filthy half-breed.' She growled
aggressively.

'I wouldn't dream of it madam Lestrange!' Greyback answered as he

pulled her over to a pile of fabric on the floor of the cave which would
serve as a makeshift bed, and encouraged her to lay down.

Her knees pulled up, she spread her legs for him and he buried his
wolf-like face in her.

Bellatrix battled her instincts to moan or scream, determined as she

was to show absolutely no emotion or response to him. But she was
forced to admit, to herself at least, that even the most skilled
parsletongue would have been unlikely to have given her the
intensity of pleasure that Fenrir's rough, sandpapery tongue gave
her as he lapped relentlessly at her dripping wet slit.

Once he was sure, despite her stubborn silence, that he had made
her come several times, he sat up and wiped his mouth on the back
of his hand.

'Filthy animal!' Bellatrix thought to herself as he wiped her wetness

from his face in such an uncouth manner.
She moved onto her hands and knees, and lowered the front of her
torso to the ground, presenting herself to him, the way a bitch would
do.

Fenrir smiled a lecherous smile. Bellatrix had just the right body to
make that filthy pose irresistible. Her thin waist and full hips were
emphasised, and she looked so wet and inviting he could waste no
more time before taking her. He mounted her roughly from behind,
his large hands gripping her, one at the shoulder one at the waist.

She had assumed that the knotting would be painful. What she
hadn't counted on was the multiple orgasms it would give her as he
rutted her hard and mercilessly for over an hour. When at last he
came inside her, he flopped forward onto her, panting heavily,
waiting for the knot to relax.

Once he was able to pull of her she stood up and got dressed, her
usual haughty, cross expression on her face. She disapparated
without a word.

Fenrir coolly watched her leave and a smug smile played across his
lips. He was confident she would be back for more. The following
evening he was not disappointed. Neither was she.
Chapter 50
There were so many things to say, so much to talk about; but Draco
had kept his mind focused on one thing Voldemort had said just
before they were interrupted…

'I have some excellent news concerning the other wand…'

The apparated to the bed. It was their default apparation place these
days. Voldemort turned to Draco and looked like he was about to
kiss him, but before he had the chance Draco asked excitedly

'What's the news about the wand?'

Voldemort smiled. Draco was so focused. He had assumed that

Draco would want lots of reassurance after the scene that had just
unfolded at the manor, that he would be emotional and needy. It
seemed that yet again he had underestimated Draco. Right now,
Draco had chosen what he wanted to discuss.

'I know where it is.' Voldemort hissed in answer to his question.

Draco's eyes widened in delight.

'Can you go and get it?' He asked excitedly. 'Like, now?' He

prompted.

'Yes.' Said Voldemort smoothly. 'Yes, I can.'

Draco jumped.

'Then go! Get it now!' He encouraged wildly, then added. 'I could
come with you, if you want me to.'

'I will go alone, thank you, Draco.' He soothed, stroking Draco's face,
which was flushed with excitement.
Voldemort did not want Draco to have to be witness to this. Draco
was braver, cleverer and more focused than he had ever imagined,
but he did not want to ask Draco to look once more on the dead
body of Albus Dumbledore. Not when the last time he saw him was
one of the worst nights of both their lives.

'I want you to stay here.' Voldemort told him. 'You will be quite safe. I
have warded the house so that only we can apparate here freely. I
think perhaps you should avoid your family for a while… particularly
your aunt.' He added.

Draco laughed, not quite believing this conversation.

'Go. Get the wand!' He insisted. Then paused, realising he didn't

know just how difficult a task this would be. 'Where is it? Will to be
dangerous?' He asked, nerves audible in his voice. He took hold of
Voldemort's hands.

'It's buried with its last owner.' Voldemort smiled. 'Grave robbing. It's
not a delightful mission, but it's not a dangerous one. It won't even
take long.'

Draco was a little relieved. If it was buried with a presumably long

dead wizard, it wouldn't be too dangerous a mission to retrieve it. He
had imagined some kind of spell protected cage surrounded by
dangerous magical creatures… then he had realised that most dark
magical creatures would yield to Voldemort anyway. Sometimes
Draco forgot just what it was he was meant to be afraid of these
days. Suddenly he felt a little anxious again.

'Everyone knows now.' Draco whispered. 'About us.' It felt odd to

vocalise 'us' like that. It still seemed like madness to him sometimes,
the idea of him and Voldemort.

'They know, and rightly so.' Voldemort said decidedly. 'I am tired of
the way they look at you.' He wrapped his arms around Draco,
protectively and possessively. 'You will sit at my side from now on.
Everyone will know your status. Just so long as you remain
appropriately subservient in public.'

'Am I not appropriately subservient anyway?' Asked Draco

incredulously.

Voldemort gave a short sharp laugh.

'Mostly.' He replied. 'Sometimes you're bossy.'

Draco gave a look of mock offence. Voldemort kissed him.

'But subservient in all the ways that really matter!' He whispered in

his ear in a way which made Draco tingle.

'Will you punish them for tonight?' Draco asked in a low voice.

'You don't want me to hurt your family, do you Draco?' Voldemort

asked.

'Hummmmm…' Draco replied. He could certainly think of one he

wouldn't mind seeing punished!

'I will continue to treat your parents with contempt as we discussed.

They have displeased me, but I won't harm them, for your sake,
love.' Voldemort assured Draco, who smiled gratefully.

'Thank you.' He whispered.

'I am reluctant to torture Bellatrix…' He continued.

'Because she's such a good follower?' Draco prompted.

'That…' Said Voldemort. 'And I can never be sure if she… likes it.'
He concluded awkwardly.

Draco smirked with laughter.

'She hates me because she want you.' Draco said coolly. 'Tonight's
not the first time she has tried to attack me because of it.' He
remembered the Christmas day episode vividly!

'Really?' Voldemort replied, reconsidering the idea of hurting her.

'Well she won't try again, I will keep you close to me always.'

'That will hurt her more than any curse in itself, I expect.' Draco
mused.

Voldemort smiled at Draco's sweet, naive ideas. Yes, it would hurt

Bellatrix to see them together, but only for a short time, and it was
mostly her pride that was hurt, not anything deeper. Draco might
understand emotions better than him, but Voldemort understood
people like Bellatrix better than Draco did. It was the power she
loved, not the person. She lusted after the darkness, the fear, the
adrenalin, not the man. Loyal follower she was, but she had not the
makings of a loyal lover. Defeated, she was sure to find what she
wanted elsewhere.

'She'll get over it.' Voldemort said callously.

'I don't know.' Said Draco. 'You are pretty unforgettable.' He smiled,
his eyes full of the doe eyed innocence that Voldemort was both
puzzled by and addicted to. This was what made Draco special!

Voldemort pressed his thin lips over Draco's soft, full ones, and
kissed him firmly and meaningfully. Thanking him for the compliment
and for his pure, unwavering devotion.

Draco smiled at him.

'Go!' He said firmly. 'No more distractions! Go!'

Voldemort stood up.

'There you go with the bossiness!' He teased him with a sly smile.

'Be careful.' Draco added more softly.

'I will.' He assured and disappareted away.

Draco felt very alone once Voldemort was gone. He even felt a little
scared in the house on his own despite having been there alone
many times before. He stood up and began to pace the room. When
Voldemort returned he would have with him the most powerful wand
in existence. The Elder wand. It was the stuff of legends! Draco
would probably be allowed to hold it! His mind buzzed excitedly. But
this thought made him very painfully aware that his own wand was
no longer in his possession. He felt a twinge of deep sadness.

He'd had that wand since he was 11. It had chosen him. The minute
he had picked it up he felt a bond with it, he hardly even needed to
wave it or try a spell. It had just been right. Instantly. It belonged to
him. He belonged to it. It's magical resonance harmonised perfectly
with his own and although he could use other wands, no other fitted
him so perfectly as that one. He regretted letting it go as he realised
what a supreme sacrifice he had made in doing so. He had had no
choice, he reminded himself. He did what needed to be done.

How long would Voldemort be? Draco wished he had someone to

talk to while he waited. He wondered what his parents were doing?
What were they saying, what did they think about what had
happened this afternoon? Were they upset? Or would they at last
stop tiptoeing around him as if he were sick and they pitied him?
Would his calm demeanour make sense to them now. Would his
mother be happy? Would his father be proud? This probably wasn't
what they wanted for him, what they had imagined for him when he
was a child, but would they accept it, if they knew he was happy?

But what if Voldemort didn't want him any more now he had the
wand? What if once he was all powerful he decided he didn't need
Draco anymore and cast him aside?

Being alone didn't suit Draco when he was anxious. His breathing
ragged, he paced the room, his mind going to all the very worst
places it could. It seemed he didn't need a dementor to torment his
mind, he was capable of doing that all by himself.
'Enough!' He snapped at himself mentally and forced himself to go
and sit on the bed. A book he had been reading was on the floor
beneath it, so he picked it up and tried to focus his mind on reading
for a while. He read the words, but would probably not have been
able to describe what he had just read if he were asked.

Voldemort was gone about half an hour, perhaps a little longer, but it
was one of those times when time seemed to have laws unto itself
and although a clock would have told Draco 45 minutes or so, his
mind told him a lot longer.

Voldemort appeared back in the room and Draco leapt up. He froze
for a moment and stared at the Dark Lord…

Did he have it? What happened next? They stared at each other, the
atmosphere electric. Voldemort looked possessed, powerful,
adrenalin coursing through him. What was he going to do? Draco's
heart froze. Was Voldemort going to kill him now?

Voldemort stared at the boy. The strange little blond boy. Wise yet
naive, clever and foolish, fragile yet strong. The boy he knew in
every detail yet didn't understand. He didn't like things he didn't
understand. Voldemort was high and delirious with his new found
power. This boy would have given him anything willingly, but that
didn't matter as he could take everything from him if he wanted to
regardless. He needed no one. With this wand, he was invincible.

However scared the strange little blond boy may have been, it lasted
only for a fleeting moment. He stepped towards Voldemort, his body
language open and warm. Clarity and honesty in his eyes, and
genuine concern in his voice when he spoke

'Are you alright?' Draco asked.

His voice and his proximity seemed to bring Voldemort out of his
strange trance. Draco's voice. It reached him, it grounded him. Draco
stood close now and he could smell the familiar smell of him and all
of the memories came flooding back.
Voldemort lunged forward and grabbed Draco in his arms, gripping
him so tightly it hurt. Draco gripped him back just as tightly,
reassured and relieved to be in his arms again. The trance
Voldemort had been in, however short lived had frightened him,
however well he had hidden it.

Would this always be a danger, a fear he had to feel? If he was with

Voldemort, would he have to live in constant fear that one day the
Dark Lord might turn on him and kill him in a heartbeat? He trusted
Voldemort implicitly. Was that trust misplaced? What if he did turn on
him one day, after everything? Turned on him and threw everything
they had away? Draco battled with this dilemma in his mind. Yes,
Voldemort could do that, at any moment… But was it any different to
being with anyone else, really? Anyone you could love could turn on
you one day and discard you. Any time you lay naked and vulnerable
in someone's arms, you have to trust that they won't kill you the
moment you close your eyes. Any one you love could do that. Love,
it seemed was all about risk.

Draco spoke at length. He could feel Voldemort's unsteady

breathing. He felt safe enough to speak.

'What just happened?' He whispered, without letting go or loosening

his grip.

'I… don't, know.' Voldemort managed to reply.

'It's alright.' Said Draco softly. 'You just looked like you were
possessed or something.'

Voldemort gave a deep sigh of relief.

'I didn't know what I was doing.' He pleaded weakly. 'I just felt
completely high with power, I couldn't think properly.'

'It's ok.' Draco assured him, his mind clearing of fear, he saw clearly
once more. 'It's ok. Tell me what happened, did you get the wand?
Voldemort nodded, then answered.

'Yes. I got it.' He took a breath. 'I tried it out there and then. It works,
but it gave me a strange feeling, it was like being drunk with
power…' He paused and squeezed Draco hard. 'I think it's ok now
though.'

'It's the most powerful wand in the world, it's hardly surprising!' Draco
assured him and lead him over to the bed to sit down.

Voldemort thought for a moment, thought back to the strange surge

of power he had felt when he was 11 years old and he acquired his
original wand and used it for the first time.

'I suppose you are right.' He conceded.

'Can I see it?' Draco asked. He couldn't help himself!

'Yes.' Said Voldemort, a little amused by Draco's enthusiasm, and

delighted with Draco's ability to bring him back to himself.

He drew out the wand and held it in his hands for Draco to look at.

Draco stared in awe. The Elder wand! The most powerful wand in
existence! It looked oddly familiar…

'It looks like…' He began. 'I recognise it, I'm sure!' He gasped. 'Who
was its last owner?' He asked, the pieces of the puzzle not quite
falling into place.

'Albus Dumbledore.' Voldemort whispered.

Draco's mouth fell open in shock.

'You mean…?' He gasped, 'You mean, he had it, all this time? He
was using the Elder wand?' Draco was astonished. No wonder so
many powerful people had feared Dumbledore, no wonder everyone
thought he was so great, if he had the Elder wand it has command!
'He had it. He used it. It was his.' Voldemort confirmed. 'It explains
many things.'

Draco nodded gravely.

'But now YOU have it.' He whispered in reply.

'Yes…' Voldemort hissed with a sinister grin. 'It certainly answered to

me when I used it just now.'

'Was there any doubt?' Draco asked. He had been reading all about
the Elder wand last summer but had been busy focusing on his
NEWTS since then and couldn't recall all he had read.

'There are complex rules around the transferral of its ownership.'

Voldemort told him. 'Tomorrow we will go to the manor. There is a
book in your fathers library about wand ownership that I wish to
consult.'

Draco nodded enthusiastically.

'It's all going to be alright now you have it. I know it is.' Draco said
happily.
Chapter 51
The following morning, Harry stretched and turned over in an
unfamiliar bed, his mind foggy from sleep and from the dramatic
events of the day before. Opening his eyes he saw the slender figure
of a pale blond boy laying beside him, seemingly sleeping. He had
his back to him, but he knew just by his scent who it was.

'Draco…' He whispered softly, extending his hand towards him,

wrapping his arm around his waist and moving his own body up
close behind him.

'Mmmmmm…' Draco mumbled softly, happily, as he felt his lovers

body press against his.

Harry buried his face in Draco's hair and nuzzled into the crook of his
neck, kissing him gently and teasingly. Draco, it seemed slept naked,
as did Harry.

Harry felt himself growing hard against the curve of Draco's ass. The
usual morning arousal and for once, some real purpose to it! He
traced his hand lightly down Draco's body and gripped him gently at
the hip. He began to thrust his erection against him hopefully.

Draco gave an adorable soft giggle and reached his hand back,
resting it on Harry's hip.

'What are you doing?' Draco laughed gently. 'Don't you have more
important things to be doing this morning?' He said teasingly.

'How can I think about anything else with you laying there, naked
and waiting for me?' Harry whispered, his voice sounding softer and
more seductive than he had realised he was capable of!

'Actually I was just innocently sleeping!' Draco laughed and Harry

reached his hand towards his crotch. 'But if you want me then I'm all
yours, master.'
Harry laughed at Draco's cheekiness and mock subservience. His
fingers began to stroke the soft blonde curls at the base of Draco's
cock. Draco responded, pushing back against Harry's hard dick,
sending a surge of excitement through him.

'Such a good little slave-boy!' Harry teased, nibbling at the side of

Draco's neck, making him squirm. 'One day I will have you here all
the time. You will sleep beside me every night and I will be able to
take you whenever I want!'

'Mmmmm… yes!' Hissed Draco, as Harry's fingers wrapped firmly

around his cock and began to tug him slowly.

There was no need to change position, spooning was perfect for

lazy, morning, wake up sex. Harry cast a lubrication charm over his
own cock and Draco curled up a little, making his ass easier for
Harry to access. Harry pressed his cock against Draco's entrance.

'You want me baby?' He whispered.

'Of course, master.' Replied Draco playfully. 'I want to be here for you
and to please you whenever you need me. I always want you!'

Harry drove into him and Draco gave a little cry as he was entered,
but it didn't sound like pain. Harry didn't want to hurt him, not at all.
He felt very close to him. He felt inordinate amounts of gratitude
towards him for all the ways he had been there for him the previous
day… He had been there when he needed him then, and was here
now. Now that he needed him like this.

He could tell that Draco was happy. It was odd, as if he could feel
Draco's thoughts, although Harry had never been good at
Legilimens. Draco was not disappointed that this was not a full on, all
out kinky sex game fuck-fest. He was really quite happy with the
leisurely and intimate pace Harry had set. Draco was happy simply
to be able to be there to satisfy his lover, he didn't need any more
than that at the moment. Harry smiled and closed his eyes in
ecstasy.
He had slipped both his arms around Draco and he gripped him
tightly. Draco still gripped Harry's hip with one hand and held his
hand with the other. Draco's head rested against Harry, his eyes
closed too.

'Oh, Gods… yes!' Draco moaned. As harry slipped his hand back
down to his cock and caressed it firmly, but thoroughly unhurriedly.

It wasn't like the sex Harry usually pictured having with Draco… and
he pictured it often! This was very gentle, very sweet and warm.
Playful and fun. It was like a good morning hug with extra benefits. If
only every morning was like this, Harry thought.

Harry snuggled into the back of Draco's hair and rutted against him,
pushing his cock deep inside Draco's tight ass.

'Gods, you feel so good, baby!' Harry hissed as he pumped Draco's

cock and ass rhythmically.

'Fuck! Fuck, I'm gonna come!' Draco gasped.

Harry was surprised that Draco was there so soon, but delighted that
he pleased him so much!

'Come, baby.' He urged him. 'I want to feel you come while I'm in
you.' He whispered.

Draco gave a low cry, as if Harry's words had just taken him over the
edge. Harry felt Draco's cock twitch and his come erupt from the
head, soaking his hand, and the bed sheets.

Taking hold of Draco's hip once more, Harry began to rut him harder
and faster, feeling his own climax approaching. Spurred on by
Draco's breathless yelps, Harry at last came hard inside him,
flooding his passage with his fluid.

He rested his head against Draco's neck and closed his eyes in a
moment of total bliss…
Harry opened his eyes, waking up groggily in an unfamiliar bed. He
turned over, about to reach for the boy who slept beside him, his
heart almost breaking with shock when he realised he was alone.
Alone, in this strange new bed, admittedly more comfortable than the
tent he had been sleeping in recently, but still, not a patch on the one
he had just been dreaming about.

A single tear ran down his cheek and he turned over and pulled the
blankets tightly around himself, wrapping his arms around his own
body, as he tried to bring back the memories of his dream in as
much detail as possible.

It had been a lovely dream. And for once it was one he didn't have to
feel so ashamed of. There was nothing abusive, nothing forceful,
nothing humiliating. There had been no power imbalance, it had all
been lovely and playful and mutual. 'That's how it will be.' Harry
thought to himself. 'When all this is over, that's how it will be. Every
morning. It will be just like that.'

And the best thing about that dream, was that, in Harry's mind, there
was no way it could have been one of those dreams. In his mind,
there was no way what he had just experienced could possibly have
been Voldemort with Draco. No way .

His brain clearing from the haze of sleep, the bleak reality of his
situation returned to his mind. They were in hiding in a safe house,
Hermione recovering from being tortured. They had had a narrow
escape, they had had to bury a friend. They had a group of newly
liberated prisoners with them and an enormous task ahead of them.
And yet Harry was thinking about Draco.

'I can't be sure…' He said 'I can't be sure.' Of course he was sure! I
know he was! He knew it was me!'

Harry's mind churned over and over the scene.

'He lied to them. He LIED. Why would he do that?' Harry mused.

There was only one logical answer. 'Draco lied to protect us from
Voldemort. To protect ME from Voldemort. He really doesn't want to
be a death eater. I knew it, I just knew it!'

It only got worse when the wand maker confirmed that the long
straight wand had belonged to Draco Malfoy and that it now seemed
to have an allegiance to Harry. Harry said nothing to the others of
course, but what else could it mean? It was becoming more and
more clear. Draco was in love with him! There was a war to win and
there was a reason to win it!
Chapter 52
After a blissful and surprisingly leisurely wake-up session, Draco and
Voldemort apparated to the manor. They arrived in the hall and
Draco summoned Spinks the house elf and told him to inform his
parents that Voldemort and he were in the library and may require
assistance.

Voldemort sat at the desk and Draco hurriedly bought him the 3
volumes he knew they had on the subject of wand lore. Voldemort
searched through them for the relevant sections.

Lucius and Narcissa received the news of Voldemort and Draco's

arrival with some apprehension. They did not know what to say.
They were all out of words. Since the moment that everyone had left
the manor the following evening, they had done nothing but talk
about the situation. What it meant. How it had come about.
Voldemort's behaviour. Draco's happiness. Narcissa confessed to
Lucius the conversation she had had with Draco while Lucius was in
prison.

'He's not unkind to me…' Draco had told her. Narcissa relayed this to
her husband.

Lucius frowned. It all seemed so unlikely, that the Dark Lord would
not be unkind to Draco. That said, this had been going on since
Draco was 15 and in all that time Draco had never sustained any
injuries, not that his parents had been aware of. Draco had been so
calm recently when they felt like they were falling apart. Perhaps it
was true?

Narcissa had another confession too. Voldemort had spoken with her
alone and asked her to make sure Draco was away from school on
the night of the attack. Although the date had been changed, she
assumed that the Dark Lord had sanctioned this and had himself
removed Draco from the school and kept him at his own house. She
had been spared the reality of what had happened that night.

Was Draco happy? Narcissa so wanted to ask him. She so wanted

to be able to talk to him, one to one, heart to heart. She would not
ask him to tell anything that he did not want to tell her, but she felt
that he was old enough and mature enough to talk about things now.
Did the Dark Lord take care of his needs? Was it pleasing to him?
Did he love him?

Lucius probably wanted to ask questions too, but was less

emotionally equipped to do so. He could only get as far as wanting to
know if Draco was alright. If Draco could confirm that the Dark Lord
didn't hurt him, that would probably have been more than enough
information for Lucius to cope with.

The previous evening they had berated their poor judgement at

forging an allegiance with the Dark Lord. They had exposed their 15
year old son to him and however 'happy' Draco might consider
himself to be, in the eyes of his parents, and of the world, this was
wrong. They had hoped that if Voldemort came to power it would
mean a better life for all of them. A world to total pure-blood
supremacy for their son to grow up in. He would have been rich and
desirable. He would have made an excellent marriage and carried on
their pure-blood line. He would have been an important social figure,
he may even have met the Dark Lord on occasion… This situation
that had come about, well, it was never meant to be like this!

Their conversation reached no real conclusion and it would no doubt

have been discussed further over breakfast had they not been joined
by somewhat unwelcome company. Voldemort and Draco were not
the first visitors to the manor this morning.

Bellatrix had arrived very early. Narcissa was accustomed to her

sisters early morning visits. Bellatrix often came to the manor in the
mornings and Narcissa got the distinct impression it was because
she was avoiding her husband.
Poor old Rodolphus. Bellatrix ran rings around him, she always had.
They worked well together as death eaters, but they were never
compatible in any other way. Bellatrix was demanding, dirty and
driven by desire. Weather it was desire to kill or desire for other
things, she was driven by passion and lust. Rodolphus was rather
pompous and puffed up. He liked to pontificate loudly, boast of his
schemes. He regularly bored everyone with his arrogant, self
absorbed rambling, usually to the embarrassment of Bellatrix, who
tried to distance herself from him as much as possible at these
times. He also lacked the impressive physicality of his wife. Bellatrix,
for all her unpleasantness, was certainly a striking woman. She was
statuesque, proud and magnificent. A raven haired, icy skinned cruel
goddess of war, and it was fair to say that Wormtail and Greyback
were not the only ones amongst the death eaters to have noticed her
'attractive' features. Rodolphus was short, fat and somewhat
unremarkable looking. It was probably Rodolphus's shortcomings
that had given Wormtail the glimmer of hope he had pursued in vain.

In the early days, Narcissa had assumed that her sisters early
morning visits had been sad and sorry attempts to avoid the
amorous advances of a lecherous husband that she was not
attracted to. Narcissa had thanked her lucky stars that, for all his
faults, Lucius had always been a considerate and skilled lover. She
had allowed her sister the refuge she sought, through pity. It soon
became evident, that however numerous Rodolphus's faults were,
lechery was not one of them. Quite the opposite in fact. He was not a
fiery hot blooded man, in any area of his life. He paid his wife very
little attention sexually and it was through neglect she began to feel
urges in other directions. She was not inclined towards giving herself
to others however, she had her reputation to think of. Perhaps this
was why she had set her sights on the unachievable. It was only
once she was forced to realise just how unachievable the Dark Lord
was, that she finally caved in to her needs and sought satisfaction
elsewhere, finding a surprisingly good match in the process. Of
course, she would tell no one about that!
This morning Narcissa had been less keen to welcome her sister.
Bellatrix had begged for Draco's death only the day before. Narcissa
was reluctant to forgive that in a hurry! However, Bellatrix had
spoken to her alone. Had offered her what was an unusually genuine
apology and an embarrassing admission that she now accepted that
she would never be with the Dark Lord. Narcissa did not fully forgive
her, but as Draco had been unharmed and she felt such sympathy
for the sisters unsatisfactory marital arrangements, she allowed her
into the house in a courteous manner, if somewhat lacking her usual
warmth.

Bellatrix's heart involuntarily skipped a beat when she heard that

Voldemort was here and she had to remind herself that she no
longer wanted him in that way. However, she had disgraced herself
yesterday and, lust aside, she respected the Dark Lord immensely
and wanted his respect in return. If she could see him again and be
her usual self, perhaps she could begin to repair some of the
damage? She would even try to be nice to Draco… if she must! She
pleaded with Lucius and Narcissa to be allowed to go with them to
the library.

'If you insist.' Lucius had said firmly. 'But if the Dark Lord is still angry
with you, you will have no support from us.'

Bellatrix agreed to the terms.

It was Lucius who knocked tentatively at the library door and

nervously pushed it open.

Voldemort sat behind the desk, a large book open in front of him.
Draco sat on the arm of the chair, Voldemort's arm was around
Draco's waist affectionately and they spoke in hushed yet animated
voices, Draco pointing at a passage in the text in front of them.

They could not have looked more 'together' if they had posed it
purposefully and Lucius felt his stomach lurch and his heart tense as
he caught sight of them. His son belonged to the Dark Lord now.
Draco looked at Voldemort with the upmost love and admiration, as
though he thought he were the greatest man in all the world. Lucius
remembered a time when his little boy had looked at him like that. Of
course it was only right that Draco would not always think his parents
the most important people in the world but Lucius wondered, if he
had known of Draco's preference for men, would he have tried to
give him a more gentle and loving role model to base his
expectations on?

'My Lord…?' Lucius uttered nervously as he, Narcissa and Bellatrix

filed into the library.

Draco flinched a little when he set eyes on Bellatrix and he pressed

closer to Voldemort, who discretely tightened his grip around his
waist.

'Lucius, Narcissa, I need your assistance.' Voldemort hissed. 'Bring

me any books you may have relating to the myths of wand-lore.
Draco and I have some things we need to research a little further.'

'Right away, my Lord.' Said Narcissa willingly. She had locked eyes
with her son and could see past the nerves caused by his aunts
presence, could see a genuine happiness flickering there. It may
only have been a small comfort, but it was enough for the time being.

'Bellatrix.' Voldemort said flatly. 'I do not believe your presence was
requested.'

'Many apologies, my Lord!' Bellatrix began in an extremely humble

voice. 'I was visiting my dear sister and her husband, I thought I
could perhaps be of service also?' She paused as if thinking of what
to say next, how much more pleading could she be? 'And it is always
such an honour to see you, my Lord. And such a great pleasure to
see my dear nephew, Draco, of course.' She simpered hopefully.

Draco stared at her incredulously, but before a sarcastic remark

could escape his lips, Voldemort spoke.
'That was feeble, Bellatrix.' He laughed at her. 'Really, quite beneath
you.'

Bellatrix hung her head in shame.

'I am so very sorry about what I said yesterday, I truly am. I

misunderstood the situation. It will not happen again, my Lord, I
assure you.' She grovelled.

'No, it won't.' Voldemort said firmly. 'Poor conduct towards myself or

Draco will result in the most severe of punishments.'

'Yes, my Lord.' Bellatrix uttered, head still hung in embarrassment.

Narcissa returned with a large book in her hands. She handed it to

Draco. He smiled at her, a warm and genuine smile and she returned
it.

'This is the only book we have, besides the ones you have already
found.' She said, her voice rich with affection. Almost instinctively
she stroked Draco's hair back from his face as she spoke.

Voldemort controlled his urge to lash out as someone other than

himself touched Draco. 'She's his mother, she probably loves him
too…' He reminded himself. 'And he cares about her, so I mustn't get
angry with her for touching him… I mustn't. It's ok. He's still mine.'
He found it very difficult to see Draco's parents show him affection.
He should be the only one to show Draco affection, why should
Draco need affection from them now that he had him? He had
affection from Draco and no one else, that was all he needed. But
Draco would not like it if he were to forbid any contact with his
parents. Draco might leave if he did that. He could forbid Draco to
leave, but he had made it clear to Draco that that was not the
arrangement and he could leave if he wanted to. If he started to
forbid Draco things and did not allow Draco to leave if he was
unhappy, then how would he know that Draco stayed for the right
reasons? Knowing that Draco stayed with him because he wanted to
was the best feeling in the world. He was just going to have to learn
to control his jealousy and temper a little.

He was instantly reassured when Draco returned to him with the

book and placed it on the table, and then took hold of his hand,
completely unabashed, in front of everyone.

'This is the book we need, I think.' He said excitedly before releasing

Voldemort's hand and turning through the pages.

Voldemort addressed the others in the room.

'Be seated.' He commanded and they did as they were told. 'You
may be the first to share in the exciting news.'

'News, my Lord?' Echoed Lucius.

'I have located and acquired a suitable wand with which to face
Potter.' Voldemort answered. He drew the wand from his sleeve.
'Behold, the Elder Wand.'

There was a stunned silence, even Draco looked again in awe at the
legendary wand in Voldemort's hand.

'The question now is, how to establish ownership of it.' He said

firmly.

'Does… does it answer you, my Lord?' Lucius asked hesitantly.

'It responds to me.' Voldemort answered him sharply. 'It is a wand of

great power, Lucius. I would be foolish to try to wield it freely were I
unsure if I were it's true master.'

Lucius nodded.

'We have to find out about how it's ownership transfers.' Draco said
coolly, enjoying being able to speak freely at last. He spoke to
Voldemort. 'Look! Here!'
He pointed to a section of the text before them. Voldemort looked at
it.

'When the master of the Elder wand dies, the one who takes it from
him shall be the new master.' Draco read aloud. He frowned.

'That was me.' Voldemort answered with a sickly smile, but then he
noticed Draco's concerned face. 'What's the matter, Draco?' He
asked. 'Something is wrong.'

Narcissa, Lucius and Bellatrix did not speak, they did not dare and
did not know what to say. Each one of them felt like interlopers on a
scene of which they had no real knowledge, as though they were
spying through a window but could not take part.

'There's more to it than that.' Draco mused. He looked pensive, as

though searching his thoughts. 'This is a very modern translation of
the legend.' He concluded. 'Have we nothing older, mother?' He
asked Narcissa directly.

She jumped, surprised to be directly involved.

'Not on wand lore, darling.' She answered. 'But we do have the

original legend of the Elder wand in a story book. It's very old, it's
written in Latin.'

Voldemort was pleasantly surprised by her quick thinking, and this

made him less cross with her for stroking Draco. She was probably a
far more worthy follower than Lucius.

'Bring it to me, please.' Draco said and she jumped up right away,
happy to be of use.

She returned with an ancient book of stories and placed it in front of

Draco and Voldemort.

'I've had it for years.' She confessed as she turned the discoloured
pages, searching for the story they required. 'It was passed down
through my family. I was meant to read the stories to you, Draco, but
I never could quite grasp Latin, I'm afraid.'

Voldemort felt oddly touched that she had chosen to share this
information. People didn't often voluntarily share personal things with
him. He was equally pleased at the enthusiastic way she exclaimed,

'Here! Here it is!' When she found the page.

Draco, Voldemort and Narcissa huddled over the book. Lucius and
Bellatrix, not wanting to be left out, had risen from their seats and
leant nearer.

Draco followed the text, translating as well as he could.

'In order to… master the Elder wand… one must… first…' He
paused. His face froze.

'Go on!' Lucius urged him anxiously. They were on the edge of a
break through.

'One must first…' Draco continued. He took a shaky breath. 'One

must first… dom dominum interfecfurus. '

No one responded. Voldemort looked at Draco anxiously.

'Draco?' He asked.

'Interfiecere. ' Draco uttered slowly.

'What does that mean, darling?' Narcissa asked, slightly ashamed

that her son had a better grasp of Latin than she did.

'Interfiecere… To kill.' Bellatrix offered at last.

'In order to master the Elder wand one must first kill the owner.'
Lucius put the sentence together.

Draco stood stock still, as white as a sheet.

'Who owned the wand before you my Lord?' Asked Lucius nervously.

'Albus Dumbledore.' Voldemort replied coldly.

'He's already dead!' Exclaimed Bellatrix.

'But he was killed by…' Narcissa began. Then the penny dropped
and she gasped in horror. The same horror that had already seized
her son.

'Snape!' Cried Bellatrix unable to mask the delight in her voice.

'Snape is the master of the Elder wand because he killed
Dumbledore! Well, that's simple then, my Lord! You know what to
do!' She was beaming from ear to ear. This almost made up for the
disappointment yesterday. She hated Severus.

Voldemort glanced at Draco. Draco was shaking. Not obviously, but

clearly enough as close range. He was pale as a ghost and his eyes
shone with tears with which he battled.

It wouldn't be Voldemort's first choice of action, certainly, but it was

there in black and white. There was no other way.

Bellatrix had also noticed Draco's horrified expression. She knew

how fond he was of Snape. Now she would have payback for that
gloating look he had given her yesterday!

'Kill Snape!' She beamed. 'Easy. What do you think of that, Draco?'
She smiled sadistically.

Draco felt like he was under water. For the last few minutes he had
not drawn breath and although he was aware of what was happening
around him, he was not in control and was fighting powerlessly to
process what was happening. His lower lip trembled.

'It's what must be done.' He said in a voice that was not quite his
own.
Chapter 53
Nothing was quite making sense inside Draco's head. His brain was
swimming with emotion. Voldemort had to kill Snape. Snape! The
man who had saved Draco's life, twice. Draco's friend, one of the few
people in the whole world he truly trusted. He and Snape had been
through some bad times and come out the other side the stronger for
it. Snape was his friend, and now the person Draco loved most in the
world was going to kill him. And it was not for small stakes either. If
Voldemort didn't kill Snape and master the Elder wand, he himself
was likely to be killed by Potter. Draco's heart was being wrenched in
two.

To make matters worse, he was forced to silently battling this

tsunami of emotions inside his head as he could not let them show,
not in front of his Aunt. It seemed so unfair that just as things had
come out in the open and at last Draco felt he could hold his head
high and demand respect; just as his parents could finally stop
worrying about him; just as one cloud lifted, this new one had
descended and, yet again, Draco could not see clearly for the
darkness around him.

His heart hurt, but something in his head hurt too. Something about
this whole premise just didn't quite fall into place. He searched his
confused and emotion-ridden brain, trying desperately to recall a
scrap of information that he could not quite put his finger on.

'Draco?' Voldemort's voice broke through his thoughts. Draco

jumped. Everyone was looking at him as if they had been trying to
get his attention for a little while.

'It's not right.' Draco uttered in a dazed tone.

Bellatrix gave a snorting laugh.

'He's a sensitive little flower!' She barked, but fell silent when
Voldemort shot her a look which was a sharp as a knife.

'It's unavoidable, Draco.' Voldemort said, as calmly as possible,

resting his hand on Draco's shoulder. He knew Draco would be
upset, but his jealousy meant that there was a limit to just how upset
he could cope with Draco being. He tried to ignore the needling
feeling inside him.

'No.' Draco said, sounding just as bemused a previously. 'There's

another way, there must be.'

'I don't think there is.' Voldemort said coldly. Hurting Draco hurt him
and he didn't entirely know how to cope with it.

'No.' Draco said again. 'I mean, I remember reading something…

Well, I almost remember it. Trust me, something's not right.' He
implored.

Lucius and Narcissa watched this scene unfold with great

fascination, it gave them quite an insight into the relationship
between their son and the Dark Lord. No one ever spoke to
Voldemort like this, but Draco didn't even hesitate. Bellatrix simply
raised a sarcastic eyebrow. How much of Draco's crap would the
Dark Lord put up with?

Voldemort spoke to Draco as if the others were not there.

'Where did you read it, can you remember that?' He asked. Even
without Draco's distress, the idea of killing Snape was not pleasing
to him. It would be a shame to lose such a loyal and useful follower if
it could be avoided.

Draco thought hard.

'It was one of your books.' He said at last. 'It was last summer… I
can picture it. Please can we just check first?' He pleaded with
Voldemort.
'Of course.' Voldemort replied. 'It would be foolish to take this course
of action if it can be done another way.' He said firmly.

Bellatrix sighed and looked disappointed.

'We will go and find the book and bring it back here.' Voldemort said
to Draco, still ignoring the others, and with that he took Draco's arm
and appareated them away.

They arrived in the library at the Riddle house and Draco rushed to
the bookcases and began at once to search for the volume he could
only just picture.

Voldemort watched Draco's focused and single minded search and

he felt a spindle of jealousy begin to unwind inside him.

Draco was very upset about the thought of losing Snape. Was he
too upset about it? Did he love Snape? Voldemort thought of all the
time they could spend together while Draco was away at school and
an icy fear gripped him. Why should Draco care if Snape died? Why
should Draco care if anyone died if they still had each other? It was
not right. He should not be this upset, he should not really be very
upset at all… should he?

'You seem rather too upset about the idea of me killing Severus,
Draco.' Voldemort hissed. 'Does he really mean that much to you?
More than I mean to you? Would you rather have him alive and me
vulnerable? Is that what you want? His narrowed red eyes glared
with the emotional boy searchingly.

Draco stopped hunting for the book and stared in disbelief, tears
filling his eyes and rolling freely down his cheeks.

'How can you even say that?' Draco exclaimed through his tears.
'How can you even question for one moment that I love you more
than anyone else in the world? What more do you need me to give
you?' He shouted.
His passion and the force of his emotion stopped Voldemort in his
tracks. Maybe Draco had a point. His jealousy began to turn to
shame.

'I've known Snape nearly my whole life and he healed me when I

was going to die.' Draco continued. 'I love you! I love you so god
damn much! You are my life! But you can't expect me never to care
about anyone else. I care about Snape and I love my family, not the
same way I love you, but I still love them. I know you don't
understand love, but please, please try to understand this?' Draco
pleaded, crying desperately as he did so.

Voldemort did not quite know what to say to him. He'd never really
seen Draco cry like this before.

'I'm sorry.' He said at last. The words sounded odd coming from his
lips, and he said them almost mechanically as though it was simply
the only thing he thought he could say.

Draco stepped towards him and touched his hand.

'I just want you to know how much I love you!' He whispered. 'If you
knew that, you would never doubt me! You are a master of
Legillimens, read my mind!' He pleaded. 'Read me, I'll let you in, then
you'll know!' He gasped.

'I don't need to.' Voldemort whispered and he took Draco in his arms
and held him tightly. This was his real apology. Of course he knew
Draco loved him! He kissed the top of Draco's head. At length he
released him. 'Now, find that book.' He instructed.

Draco smiled gratefully. His face still tear stained, he returned to his
task.

'This is the one!' He cried at last, pulling down a large volume and
rushing to Voldemort who looked at it questioningly.

'This isn't about wand lore.' He said.

'No.' Said Draco. 'But there's a section on the Elder wand myth. This
is the one.'

They appeared back at the manor where an anxious Narcissa,

Lucius and Bellatrix were waiting for them. Bellatrix looked a little
disappointed that they actually had a book with them. She had
hoped that Draco would not find it.

Voldemort sat down and Draco opened the book on the desk.

'That book isn't about wand lore, Draco.' Lucius said nervously.

'I know!' Draco replied. 'It's about translation of myths. There's a

section on the Elder wand, I read it last summer.'

He flipped hurriedly through the pages while the others waited with
bated breath.

'Here!' He exclaimed, pointing to the page. 'The version we read

before was a relatively modern translation of the text, it's here look…
'In order to master the Elder wand one must first kill the owner.'

'We know that bit!' Bellatrix snapped and was shot cutting looks by
everyone in the room.

'The wording was different before this version. Prior to this

translation it wasn't interficere 'to kill' it was exterminare 'to
exterminate'.' Draco continued.

'That kind of means the same thing, darling.' Narcissa said sadly.

'I know!' Draco exclaimed. Did everyone think he was stupid? He

continued.

' Exterminare wasn't used in the text for long, it's a strange word, it
sounds kind of incongruous, doesn't it? So it was changed to
interficere and remained like that because it made more sense to
everyone.' He took a breath. 'But the important bit is what happened
before that.' Draco's heart pounded, the pieces were falling into
place now!

'What happened before?' Lucius asked in a whisper.

' Exterminare was a mistranslation.' Draco explained and he turned

the page and pointed. 'Before it was exterminare, in the most original
text known, it was exarmare !'

Voldemort's eyes widened in shock.

' Exterminare is 'to exterminate', but it was meant to be exarmare, 'to

disarm'!' Draco exclaimed wildly.

Voldemort studied the text.

'To master the Elder wand one has to disarm the owner to take
power from him.' He read aloud.

The room was silent as the revelation sunk in.

'It makes sense though, doesn't it?' Draco said, seeking validation for
his research, and some kind of assurance that it had been accepted
and the dreaded course of action was no longer required.
'Dumbledore used the Elder wand, didn't he? It answered him, but
he didn't kill the previous owner. You spoke to the previous owner to
find out where it was!' Draco said to Voldemort.

Voldemort nodded. Draco was right!

'So you don't have to kill Severus, my Lord.' Lucius reasoned. 'You
will only have to disarm him.'

Everyone in the room seemed to collectively give a sigh of relief, with

the possible exception of Bellatrix. Then Draco spoke.

'Snape didn't disarm Dumbledore.' He said, almost in a whisper.

Lucius and Narcissa stared at him in disbelief.

'Then who…?' Lucius began.

'I did.' Draco said nervously.

Voldemort tried never to think about that night, but he remembered

now, this was correct.

'You did?!' Gasped Narcissa in horror. This was something to add to

the list of questions she wanted to ask her son!

Voldemort turned to Draco and took hold of him, staring at him in

awe. Draco was wonderful! No, beyond wonderful, Draco was a
miracle! His face ecstatic, he spoke,

' You are the master of the Elder wand, Draco!'

They stared at each other, wide eyed, adrenalin coursing through

them both. Voldemort slowly handed Draco the wand.

Draco shook with anticipation as he grasped this wand of legends.

Could he really be its master?

'Try it!' Voldemort urged and the onlookers stood well back to
observe the scene.

Draco had never been more nervous, even the first time he had
been asked to try a spell in front of an audience. Slowly he raised his
arm and gave the wand the tiniest flick…

He was hit by a jarring pain up his arm and he stumbled back a pace
of two. There was a horrible rasping sound and then a shattering of
glass as every one of the library windows blew out at once.

Draco gave a cry of pain and Voldemort instantly stood up and held
him to steady him.

It was obvious to everyone, Draco was not the master.

The room was silent, as though everyone was frantically searching
their brain for an answer. The chain of reasoning had all made sense
up to now… What was the missing link?

'Potter!' Screamed Bellatrix, making everyone jump with fright.

'What?' Draco asked her, was she completely raving mad now?
What had Potter got to do with this?

'Potter took your wand!' Bellatrix screamed. 'He took it from you!
Potter 'disarmed' you Draco! You gave him the power of the Elder
wand!' She snapped breathlessly. This was a disaster, yet still there
was some relish in her voice.

Draco froze. His blood ran cold. Please Gods, let this not be true!
Voldemort sat down in shock and fright. Draco's brain scrabbled for
reason and answers.

'I… I let him take the wands.' Draco stammered. It sounded almost
like a confession. 'I let go of them on purpose, to get rid of him. I
made it look like I didn't, but I made the decision to open my hands
and let them go. I wanted him to take them because I wanted him to
get out of the house! Does that still count?'

Draco addressed his question to the whole room in the hope that
someone would have an answer.

'It shouldn't.' Lucius said, thoughtfully. 'Disarming has to be done by

force.'

Draco's heart rate settling and his breathing slowing, the final piece
of the puzzle dropped neatly into place. His face shone, as though
someone had lit a lamp behind his eyes. He had had a
breakthrough!

'Potter couldn't have become the master of the Elder wand

yesterday!' He exclaimed excitedly. 'Even if he had truly disarmed
me, he was too late! Someone else had already disarmed me before
him!'

'Who?' Voldemort asked desperately.

Draco turned to him and gave an excited smile.

'You.' He answered.
Chapter 54
There was a stunned silence from the onlookers.

'Me?' Echoed Voldemort. He searched his memory. Had he

disarmed Draco? He had done a lot of things to Draco, but was
disarming him one of them? He couldn't remember.

'When?' He asked at last.

'The night we…' Draco began…

He stopped. Turning crimson he looked down at the floor. His

mother, father and aunt were staring at him, waiting for the answer.
He should have saved this revelation until Voldemort and he were
alone, but he had been so desperate to resolve this situation that he
hadn't thought before he began.

'The night of the meeting, when you were planning the Azkaban
breakout.' He answered stiffly, avoiding eye contact with anybody.

Voldemort thought back. He remembered that night alright! That was

the first night Draco had played at being his slave. That was the
night he had bound him, lashed him, gagged him, fucked him with a
butt plug, left him tied up alone and then come back to him and
screwed him. That was the night he and Draco had begun to explore
a new level in their sexual relationship. There had been other nights
like it since then, when the mood took them, but that had been the
first time. It was a memorable night, alright, but had he disarmed
Draco that night?

Voldemort was grateful for his grey snake-like complexion, otherwise

he might have been blushing as much as Draco was as the
memories came back to him.

'I disarmed you?' He mused. Without being too graphic, Draco was
going to have to describe exactly when this had happened.
'Before the meeting.' Draco said, setting a context which alleviated
their embarrassment a little. 'When we were getting ready. I was
making myself look like a slave…' He paused awkwardly. 'You said I
shouldn't be allowed my wand, and you took it from me.'

Voldemort thought back. Draco was correct.

'I would have given you the wand, but you took it and it caught me off
guard.' Draco continued. 'I gripped it as hard as I could, it was
instinctive. But you're much stronger than me.' He stopped, at the
risk of getting into embarrassing territory again.

'I remember.' Said Voldemort as the scene returned vividly to his

mind. 'I felt you resist me, but I thought you were just playing, getting
into character. It felt odd though, I remember it now.'

'That was the moment it happened.' Draco cried. 'I was the master of
the Elder wand, but at that moment, you disarmed me, you became
the master!'

Draco handed the wand back to Voldemort, who felt a familiar tingle
of power as the wand was reunited with his cold grey hand. It felt
right. The power surge last night must simply have been an adjusting
phase. Now he could tell instantly that he was the master. It felt right.
It was his. He smiled at Draco in wonder.

'You are right, Draco.' He hissed. 'You are right.'

Draco, in great relief and happiness, flung himself into Voldemort's

arms, quite unabashed and almost unaware of the others, who
suddenly felt like they wanted to be elsewhere and no longer be
witnessing this demonstrative outburst of affection.

Voldemort rested his hands on Draco's shoulders and spoke directly

to him.

'There are things I need to do now, Draco. There are plans to be

made. Finally we can get things in motion.'
He turned to Bellatrix.

'Bellatrix.' He barked. 'If you have a mind to redeem yourself for your
behaviour yesterday, you can go with a message to Yaxley and tell
him I wish to meet with him this afternoon. I will require yourself and
your husband also.'

'Yes, my Lord, at once my Lord!' Bellatrix answered.

She may have been cheated out of Severus's death, but at least now
she had the chance to be of use again to the Dark Lord. Plus her
husband was being asked for. This would probably mean he would
be given some mission to complete that evening… which would
mean that she would be free to pursue other 'interests'. She
disapparated at once.

Voldemort turned again to Draco.

'I am going to speak with Grayback and his pack today, and one or
two others.'

Draco nodded.

'Stay here today Draco.' Voldemort told him, as he gently swept a

stray lock of blond hair from his face affectionately. 'Stay with your
parents. I will come back to see you this evening.' He said softly.

Draco smiled at him appreciatively.

'If you are returning this evening, my Lord, perhaps you would us the
honour of dining with us?' Narcissa interjected suddenly.

Had she not been his mother, Draco would have hexed her on the
spot!

For a fraction of a second Voldemort looked as horrified at the

proposal as Draco felt. A family meal with Draco's parents? Sadly no
excuse came quick enough, and it was arranged for 7pm.
Voldemort gave Draco the smallest fleeting kiss on the forehead
before he disapparated, and Narcissa and Lucius stared, both
relieved and shocked at the gentleness and affection the Dark Lord
showed their son.
Chapter 55
Narcissa didn't care if he was the Dark Lord. He was having a
relationship with their son and therefore she saw no reason why she
shouldn't invite him to have dinner with them. She could not
understand why her husband was looking at her as though he were
seriously considering having her committed to a secure ward for the
permanently spell damaged. Anyway, she told herself, Lucius was
not the important one right now. Draco was.

Exhausted, Draco had flopped into the chair behind the desk, he
slouched back and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recover
from the morning's ordeal. It was not yet mid day and already he had
experienced a whole plethora of emotion and felt like he just wanted
to sleep for a week to recover. Of course he did not have that option.
Clearly his mother had decided the last 24 hours had not been
traumatic enough so she had felt the need to invite Voldemort to
have dinner with them that evening. Draco wanted to see Voldemort
that evening, but he wanted to see him alone, preferably at the
Riddle house, away from his parents. He wanted to crawl into bed
with him and be fucked into oblivion, until all the upset of the day
disappeared. He could honestly have hexed Narcissa, but one
doesn't hex one's own mother!

Narcissa approached Draco. She felt like she had waited so long for
answers to so many questions and in the last 24 hours she had
received so many answers that she had almost lost track of what all
of her questions were. She knelt down beside him and took his
hands.

'Draco, darling, are you alright?' She asked.

Draco opened his eyes. Had his parents seen enough of his
relationship with the Dark Lord that they would not feel the need to
actually ask him anything about it? Draco hoped so.
'I'm ok.' He said calmly. 'I'm glad that Snape will be ok too.' He
added.

'Me too!' Narcissa smiled at him warmly. 'You were so clever to figure
all that out. The Dark Lord really listens to you doesn't he?'

Draco cringed internally.

'Yeah, I guess so.' He replied. 'Do you think we could have some
coffee? I am really exhausted.' He pleaded, in an attempt to change
the subject.

'Of course.' His mother answered and turned to her husband.

'Lucius, my love, could you go and instruct the house elf to make
coffee for all of us and serve it in the drawing room? Then I will need
to speak to him myself about the meal tonight.'

Lucius nodded, and Draco felt a renewed closeness with his father
as he noticed the look of disbelief and horror Lucius had given his
wife when she mentioned the evening meal.

Once they were alone, Narcissa turned again to her son. Draco got a
sinking feeling.

'You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to tell me,
darling…' She began.

Draco tensed.

'But please, just tell me this. Does he make you happy? Is this what
you want?' She whispered softly.

Draco supposed these were not unreasonable questions. He gave

her a small smile.

'Yes.' He answered. 'He does make me happy.'

She remained silent, hoping to get some more from him.

'I was scared of him at first, but like I told you before, he's not unkind
to me. Quite the opposite in fact, and yes, yes it is what I want.'
Draco hoped this was a complete enough answer.

Narcissa gave a deep sigh. Of all of the glowing futures she had
dreamt up for her son, this was nothing like any of them. But if Draco
really was happy, she would try to be happy too. It wasn't like she
had any choice but to accept it, but she didn't have to like it if Draco
wasn't happy. But if he was, well, that was what she wanted more
than anything else. She nodded.

'That's alright then darling.' She whispered. 'I just want you to be
happy. Does he… does he take care of your needs?'

Draco's eyes widened in horror giving Narcissa the clear message

that this was the line which he did not want to cross. He blushed
furiously and Narcissa smiled. That was her answer.

'OK, darling, I'm sorry. I won't ask you.' She smiled and stood up.
She extended her hand to Draco. 'Come, let's go and have that
coffee.'

Draco watched, aghast as his mother turned the flowers in the table
centrepiece from blue, to red and then to white as she tried to decide
on which was the most appropriate colour for the evening. His
stomach twisted with nerves, taking him to a level of nervous nausea
he had never experienced before.

Narcissa had already angsted for half an hour over which cutlery
should be used and yelled at the house elf for bringing out the old
napkins rather than the best ones.

Lucius stood behind his son and rested a supportive hand on

Draco's shoulder. Draco glanced up at him with a pitiful, powerless
expression on his face. Lucius smiled a faint, understanding smile.

'She's always loved entertaining.' He whispered apologetically.

Draco cringed and Lucius hugged him. Actually hugged him! It was a
one-arm hug, but a hug none the less. If nothing else, this whole
ordeal was bringing them closer.

'Draco, you will have to go and change.' Narcissa exclaimed at once.

'Why?' Asked Draco incredulously.

'Your outfit clashes with the table decorations.' She snapped. She
had decided on a very deep shade of purple for the table
arrangements, and felt that Draco's blue silk shirt was not a
complimentary tone.

'Mother, don't be ridiculous!' Draco gasped. It was a long time since

he had seen this side of his mother. On one hand it was nice to see
her throwing herself into a project instead of sitting and fretting. One
the other hand it bought back memories of her changing his outfit up
to 15 times when he was a child, just so she could be sure he
complimented her own outfit, and the decor, perfectly.

'I'm serious, Draco.' She said crossly. 'You should be wearing

something more traditional anyway. Go an change into those
beautiful dark green dress robes we bought you.' She instructed.

'I'm not wearing those.' Draco said stubbornly. 'They are far too
formal and…'

' Just you go and change into them right now, Draco Malfoy! I
will not argue with you!' Narcissa screamed.

Lucius and Draco both jumped in fright and Draco slunk out of the
room to change, afraid that if he hadn't left at that point he might
have dissolved into a nervous, hysterical giggling fit.

It wasn't funny at all. He thought to himself as he smoothed down the

robes his mother had insisted he wear. One consolation was that he
did look pretty hot in them, he thought to himself. The sweeping,
floor length robes in deep emerald green made him look particularly
slim and elegant, and contrasted beautifully with his pale skin and
hair. He used his favourite scent and smoothed his hair down, so
that it looked neat and silky as it framed his porcelain face. 'If I have
to die of embarrassment this evening I suppose I can at least leave
an attractive corpse…' He mumbled as he descended the stairs.

'Oh! Darling!' Narcissa cried when she set eyes on him. 'You look so
perfect!'

She rushed towards him and kissed him, her eyes shining with tears.

Draco shrugged out of her grip.

'Calm down, mother!' He sighed.

Lucius stood in the corner of the room, a glass of port already in his
hand. His wife had chosen his outfit and had made sure he was
perfectly groomed, which made a pleasant change. He looked
almost like his old self again. He looked at his son, his handsome,
clever, brilliant son and wondered why he had never told Draco he
was all of those things when he was growing up. It was probably a
bit late now.

Narcissa glanced at her own hair in the mirror and then fussed with
Lucius's neck tie. Draco gave a pained and anxious frown.

'He'll be arriving soon.' Narcissa said busily. 'Draco, I think you

should be sitting in the chair by the window when he arrives. But you
must stand up to greet him, of course, when he gets here. We want
you to make the right impression.'

Draco wondered if he had somehow fallen out of his own reality and
crash landed in the middle of a regency romance instead.

'Mother, I have actually met him before. You know that, right?' Draco
clarified sarcastically, and Lucius stifled a smile.
'Don't be cheeky!' Narcissa hissed. 'This all started very badly. Now
is the chance to put it right.' She said authoritatively.

Draco sighed. She had been through a lot. Perhaps he owed her
this.

Sitting in the designated chair, Draco thought it was probably a very

good thing that someone as forceful and intimidating as Voldemort
had been the one to take him, as his mother would clearly have
frightened off a less terrifying suitor.

Over at the Riddle house, Voldemort was also nervous. How in the
name of the Gods had he got himself into this situation? Why did he,
the Dark Lord, now find himself in a situation what he felt he could
not get out of? Did he not have more pressing things to be doing this
evening than having dinner with the Malfoys? Draco didn't want this,
and he was the only one that mattered really. A formal dinner with
Draco's parents? One thing was for sure, it was never meant to be
like this!

He couldn't not go, although the thought had occurred to him. That
would be desperately unfair to Draco. He had hurt Draco enough in
the past without doing so again. He would go. They could suffer it
together.

He could be charming. He had been charming before. Voldemort

thought back, way back. As a young man he had charmed people
into doing what he wanted, rather than frightening them into it.
Perhaps he could channel some of that charm this evening and
survive a civilised and polite dinner party? When he came to power it
would probably be necessary for him and Draco to travel around a
lot, so they wouldn't be near Draco's parents often, he mused
hopefully.

Voldemort appareted outside the front door of the manor and rang
the door bell as this was probably the correct thing to do in these
circumstances. In the drawing room, Narcissa jumped when she
heard the bell and instantly looked all about her in panic, despite
having checked at least 3 times that everything was perfect.

'He's here!' She gasped and she hurried out of the room to answer
the door. She would not usually answer the door herself, but felt she
should for such an important guest.

Draco had hoped he would be allowed to answer the door. He had

formulated a plan that he would open the door, leap onto Voldemort
and apparate them away to a deserted island somewhere, where
they could hide from his parents for the rest of eternity… Narcissa
knew her son too well however, and insisted that he remain in the
drawing room with Lucius and she would show the Dark Lord in.

She opened the door with her most courteous smile, looking cool
and collected despite her fluttering heart. This was not easy for her
either, Draco and Lucius seemed not to have considered that. She
was terrified of the Dark Lord. She would never have wanted Draco
to have even have met him in person, had she had her way. But they
had met, and become lovers. The fact that they were truly lovers,
mutually and consensually, was the one glimmer of hope that
Narcissa could hold on to. Draco was not being abused, and it
seemed that the Dark Lord had some sort of feelings of affection
towards him. Therefore Narcissa would battle to master her fears
and would try her best to redefine her feelings towards the Dark
Lord, for Draco's sake, and the sake of the whole family.

'Good evening, my Lord.' She beamed as she opened the door and
gave a small respectful curtsey.

'Good evening, Narcissa.' Voldemort said coolly, although he felt

very awkward. He had a sinking feeling that this was to be the least
awkward part of the whole evening.

She lead him to the drawing room where Lucius and Draco were
waiting. Draco had risen from his chair, as instructed.
Lucius stepped forward and greeted the Dark Lord, handling his
nerves almost as well as Narcissa did.

'It is a great pleasure to have your company, my Lord.' Lucius said.

Voldemort narrowly avoided giving him a sarcastic look.

'Draco…?' Narcissa beckoned her son forward. 'Come and greet our
guest.'

Draco looked beautiful. Voldemort had never seen Draco so

traditionally dressed before. Draco's clothes were always very
fashionable wizard attire, but often in a more contemporary style. He
certainly looked very appealing in these formal dress robes. Also
uncomfortably appealing was the look of total helplessness on
Draco's face as he stepped forward. Voldemort almost laughed. After
everything they had done and been through, he couldn't recall ever
seeing Draco look so genuinely pathetic and powerless. He stepped
forward looking like a frightened little lamb being lead to slaughter.
Like one of those innocent young pure-bloods you hear about that
were forced into an arranged marriage at a young age to secure a
family allegiance… Voldemort took a deep breath and tried his very
best to push any sexual thoughts away… for the time being, at least.

'Good evening my Lord.' Draco said flatly.

It was all Voldemort could do to keep from laughing out loud. Draco's
tone of voice shattered the illusion of innocence in a heartbeat. He
sounded so cross and sulky about the whole situation.

'Good evening, Draco.' Voldemort hissed, sounding, to Draco's mild

annoyance, completely cool and together.

There was an awkward silence. The first of many, Draco feared.

They had all said 'good evening' to each other, now someone would
have to think of something else to say. Draco feared it would
probably be his mother who managed this first.
'Would you like a drink, My Lord? Narcissa offered gesturing to the
drinks cabinet.

'Hell yes!' Voldemort thought to himself.

'Yes thank you, Narcissa.' He smiled politely.

She poured him a drink and handed it to him. She smiled.

'I will just go and check on how long dinner will be.' She beamed.
'Lucius, darling, perhaps you will come and check that the wine is
ready?'

'Yes, dear.' Lucius replied, pleased to be able to slip out of the room
for a moment, although a little surprised that Narcissa had suggested
it.

'It's only right to give them a few minutes alone together.' Narcissa
clarified once she and her husband were in the hallway. 'Not too
long, though…' She added cautiously. 'That would not be proper.'

Lucius took her hand in a caring and supportive way, the way you
might do with an ill relative.

'Darling…' He began awkwardly. 'Don't you think it might be a little

late to be worrying about things like that?' He suggested gently.

Narcissa pursed her lips crossly.

'Anything that I have any control over whatsoever, will be conducted

properly. Regardless of what may have happened before.' She
replied coolly.

Back in the drawing room, Draco and Voldemort were both

enormously grateful to have been allowed a moment alone. Draco
had flung himself into Voldemort's arms, whispering a shower of
apologies.
'I'm sorry! I'm so sorry about this!' He buried his face in Voldemort's
robes.

Voldemort held him tightly for a moment and kissed him firmly on the
lips.

'It's alright, Draco.' He whispered. 'Stop apologising.'

Draco stood back and looked at him, but did not let go.

'You look beautiful.' Voldemort hissed as he trailed his hands over

Draco's slender form beneath the expensive silk of his robes.

His hands moved lightly over Draco's hips and his eyes widened.

'You're not wearing anything under those robes, are you?' He

whispered, and Draco blushed.

'No. I'm traditional like that.' Draco replied.

Voldemort's hands explored further, caressing the sensuous curve of

Draco's pert, round ass cheeks, which felt delicious beneath the silky
fabric of his garments.

'Damn it, Draco! I'm going to be thinking about that all through
dinner!' Voldemort hissed, pressing his body against him, and
groping for a way to get his hands under Draco' clothing.

'Stop it!' Draco giggled. 'They'll be back in a minute!'

Voldemort nibbled his neck playfully.

'I could just take you away right now…?' He suggested. 'You are the
only thing I'm really interested in having for dinner anyway.'

'Gods! Don't tempt me!' Draco whispered. 'We can't go. My mother
would kill me. She'd probably kill you, too!'
Just at that moment they heard the returning footsteps of Lucius and
Narcissa. The door opened and they leapt apart just in time,
Voldemort quickly arranging his robes so as to hide his inappropriate
erection.

'Dinner is ready.' Narcissa announced.

Draco didn't know whether to be relieved or even more stressed. If

people were eating it would detract from the need to make
conversation, which he feared would be the aspect of the evening
which was the most excruciating. On the other hand, he himself had
never been a good eater and he found it very difficult to eat if he felt
stressed or nervous. This meal would not be easy for him.

'We are dining in the smaller of our dining rooms.' Narcissa

explained as she lead the way. 'It's more suited to intimate
gatherings like this one. The larger hall is much better suited for big
occasions… like, say, a wedd..'

'What are we having for dinner, Mother!' Draco interjected

assertively.

Everyone was seated without too much trauma. The table was
relatively small and Narcissa had allocated seats for everyone.
Voldemort and Lucius were seated at what could be considered the
ends of the table and Draco and Narcissa were opposite each other,
between them. Draco wondered if his mother was within kicking
distance if she began to say anything dreadful.

The starter was served, along with a nice white wine, which Draco
drank rather quickly, his father noticed, but couldn't honestly blame
him.

Lucius, to his credit, put his years of diplomatic experience to good

use and managed to make polite and surprisingly acceptable
conversation. He steered clear of discussing details relating to the
upcoming war, certain as he was that his wife would not consider this
a proper dinner table topic. He engaged Voldemort in conversation
about historical matters, goblin-made furniture and the architecture
of magical buildings in Albania. It was still all rather painful, Draco
thought, but infinitely preferable to the hideous long silences and
cringe making moments when someone was asked to pass the salt.

Draco was making a brave attempt to eat as much as he could. He

could never cope with 3 course meals at the best of times. He tried
every technique he could think of to focus his mind and try to take
the edge of the searing embarrassment and awkwardness he felt.

He avoided looking at Voldemort. It wasn't that he didn't want to look

at him, it was simply that every time he did he got flashes in his mind
of thoroughly inappropriate memories. Every time Voldemort spoke
in his soft seductive hiss, Draco vividly remembered sordid
whispered promises. Every time he opened his mouth to take a bite
of food, Draco pictured times when Voldemort's lips had been on his
flesh, and his teeth had sunk into his skin. Draco tried to control his
thoughts a little better. It was possible the wine was not helping.

The main course was drawing to a close and Draco nervously

pushed the food around his plate.

'Do try to eat a little more Draco.' Narcissa said. 'You need to keep
your strength up.'

There was aloud clatter as Lucius actually dropped his fork, followed
by an uncomfortable silence. Draco wished the ground would open
up and swallow him. Him, or his mother. It didn't matter which.

They battled on through desert and Voldemort actually complimented

Narcissa and Lucius on the food. Draco felt ever so slightly annoyed
at how well he seemed to be coping with the whole situation.

Finally they retreated to the drawing room for drinks, Draco praying
that the ordeal was nearly over. Lucius poured drinks for all of them,
including Draco, much to Narcissa's disapproval. Draco guessed his
father felt he had earned it!
The clock chimed 10 and Voldemort decided this must surely be late
enough for this sort of event to finish. He stood up.

'Thank you for your kind hospitality this evening, Narcissa, Lucius.'
He hissed silkily. 'But I really must be going now.'

'Oh, it's been our pleasure, my Lord.' Narcissa exclaimed. 'We have
all enjoyed your company, haven't we, Draco?' She prompted.

Voldemort spoke before Draco could answer.

'I will take Draco with me, if it's all the same to you, Narcissa.'

Draco visibly relaxed. The ordeal was over!

'Oh.' Said Narcissa awkwardly. 'Yes. Of course, my Lord.'

Draco stood up, ready to leave at once.

'There are some things I want to discuss with you, Draco.' Voldemort
clarified, hoping this would make it less uncomfortable.

'Well, it's very late. Make sure it's not too long before you get to bed.'
Said Narcissa.

Lucius covered his face with his hand.

Draco sighed. It was like she just couldn't resist one last parting shot.

'Goodnight mother.' He said flatly and linked arms with Voldemort.

Voldemort apparated them away in what had to be one of the

quickest exits in history.

Safely back at the Riddle house, Draco flopped into Voldemort's

arms over come with relief that the evening was finally over.
Emotions rushed over him, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
He decided on frantic apologising as the best course of action.
'Gods, I am so, SO sorry about that!' He gushed.

'Which bit?' Asked Voldemort with an amused smile.

'ALL of it!' Draco exclaimed, on the verge of thumping Voldemort for

finding anything about the last 3 hours amusing.

Voldemort wasted no time in getting his hands back onto Draco,

caressing his hips and thighs and burying his face in his hair and
kissing his neck.

'Oh, it wasn't that bad!' He whispered.

'Who are you kidding?' Snapped Draco. 'It was the seventh circle of
hell!'

Voldemort laughed out loud at Draco and was momentarily

distracted from his mission to get inside Draco's clothing.

'Your mother is quite something, isn't she?' Voldemort smiled.

'Don't!' Groaned Draco, covering his face with his hand. 'Can you
send her to Azkaban, please?'

'You don't mean that.' Voldemort smiled.

'Well, can't you make dinner parties illegal or something? Honestly, I

thought she was going to bring out the baby photos at any moment!'

Voldemort gave Draco a sadistic grin.

'I'm going to ASK to see them, next time.' He hissed, earning him the
punch Draco had thus far held back.

'No you're not.' He retorted. 'Because there won't be a next time.

Because we are going to move to a remote island in the north of
Scotland and never socialise with anyone.'
'I think the worst part was having to look at you all evening, knowing
you had nothing on under that robe. Having to wait all that time to
get you alone.' Voldemort mused as he returned to his task of
groping Draco. 'Having to make small talk all that time when all I
could think about was all the obscene ways I want to fuck you! Gods!
I'm not sure I've ever been so desperate to fuck you!'

The embarrassment of the evening began to soften a little for Draco.

Voldemort was good at distracting him from any cares he had. He
gave a soft moan as Voldemort began to bite at his neck.

'Gods, you really are perverse!' Draco whispered.

Voldemort gave a low laugh.

'All this time you have known me and only now you decide I'm
perverse?' He asked?

'Well if having dinner with my parents gets you in the mood, then
yes! That's a new level of perversion as far as I'm concerned!' Draco
retorted, making Voldemort laugh again.

'I think it was seeing you in a different setting, wanting you but
knowing I couldn't just take you there and then. That, and you do
look good in formal wear.' Voldemort whispered. 'When I come to
power I'm sure there will be lots of parties and occasions we have to
attend where you will have to be dressed up formally and I will hardly
be able to keep my hands off you. Of course, then no one will dare to
question it if we disappear for half an hour while I fuck you against
the wall in the cloakrooms…'

Draco tingled, imagining the scene. He rather liked the idea of

sneaking out of a society party to have a quick and downright dirty
fuck session…

'Then we will have to return to the party afterwards looking as though

nothing has happened.' Voldemort continued. 'You will have to look
completely neat and tidy again so that on one would guess all the
filthy things I'd just done to you.'

Draco blushed.

'As long as my parents aren't there!' He smiled.

Voldemort paused for a moment and felt a rush of empathy towards

Draco. Draco was so apologetic about his parents behaviour, when
all they had done was want him to be treated the way any pure blood
aristocrat would want their child to be treated. Did Draco feel he
didn't deserve this treatment? Did he feel that Voldemort was above
having to treat him respectfully? Voldemort could treat anyone and
everyone exactly how he wanted, but he was more than willing to
treat Draco well. He would even give him a formal pure-blood
courtship if he wanted one.

'I'm sorry Draco.' He said sincerely. 'Tonight… well… It should

always have been like that, shouldn't it?'

Draco looked at him, aghast and shook his head in disbelief.

'Surely you aren't that much of a sadist?' Draco asked. 'You wouldn't
put me through a night like that again, would you?'

Voldemort laughed. Draco's humour was wonderfully reassuring.

'I just mean that, I adore you, and that maybe if I was better at these
things I would have courted you like that from the start.' He
answered.

'Let's thank the Gods you're not better at these things then!' Draco
smiled playfully. 'Now, what was it you wanted to discuss with me?'

Voldemort gave a sheepish smile.

'Well, if I'm honest, I really just wanted to discuss getting you out of
those robes and onto my cock as quickly as possible.' He grinned.
'So that's your idea of a formal courtship, is it?' Draco laughed.

Voldemort sat on the bed, leaning against the head board.

'Come here and get those clothes off.' He commanded flatly.

Draco followed his orders happily. This was, without a doubt, the
best part of the whole evening.
Chapter 56
Draco gave Voldemort a sultry smile and with deep, lustful sigh he
unfastened his robes and let them fall to the floor, revealing that he
was indeed wearing nothing underneath.

Voldemort moved to the edge of the bed. Draco approached slowly,

sauntering towards him with a playful glint in his eyes. He extended
his hands to Voldemort, his arms open, his body language telling his
lover he was willing to be vulnerable.

Reading the signs, Voldemort stood up and took hold not of Draco's
hands, but of his wrists, gripping him forcefully. He pulled Draco
roughly towards him and pushed both of his hands behind his back
where he was able to secure both of Draco's slender wrists in place
with one of his own large, strong hands. His free hand caressed
Draco's face gently for a moment before roughly pulling his head
back so that Voldemort could access his lips and kiss him hard.

He pushed his tongue into Draco's mouth, forcing his lips apart, one
hand cradling the back of Draco's head so that Draco could not
decrease the pressure between them. He melded their lips together
aggressively.

Draco gave a stifled, needy moan. Voldemort understood him so

well! He seemed to know instinctively that Draco needed more than
just affection this evening.

Although the dinner party had not been the unmitigated disaster it
had the potential to be, it had forced Draco and Voldemort to present
a side of their relationship which was acceptable to Narcissa and
Lucius. It was a side that didn't necessarily meet Draco, or
Voldemort's needs. That was not to say that Draco wasn't happy that
he was no longer permanently and perpetually terrified by his
relationship with Voldemort. That had been exhausting and quite an
emotional rollercoaster. Draco was happy that they talked now, that
they laughed about things when the two of them were alone. He felt
safe with Voldemort, which still seemed an odd concept to him
sometimes, but he did. He would ask questions, say what he needed
and earlier that day he had even shouted at him, and it was all ok. It
was good. It meant that they could actually function together and
other people could know about their relationship. Draco was certainly
happy with the place they had reached, however there was
something he craved about the flutter of nerves he still felt in
Voldemort's presence. Something about how powerful Voldemort
was, that dangerous edge of unpredictability that Draco was deeply
turned on by. The fact that Voldemort was much older, more
experienced and much, much stronger than him, suited Draco's
sexual needs, and Voldemort's too. Although Draco was pleased that
they had somehow, miraculously morphed into this bizarrely
functional relationship, the last thing in the world he would have
wanted was for it to become the homogenised and sanitised affair
they had acted out that evening! Away from his parents, they could
be 'them' again and love each other in the way that they wanted.

Voldemort pressed his forceful kisses onto Draco who received them
gratefully, loving that Voldemort gripped the back of his neck a little
too hard as he kissed him, and loving the fact that he restrained his
wrists. Pleasure washed over Draco as Voldemort kissed him so
deeply. These were kisses he could lose himself in, kisses that made
the rest of the world melt away. It never ceased to amaze him that
Voldemort was such a good kisser. He kissed with such focus, with a
searing, selfish need. Possessive and claiming.

Without warning, Voldemort grabbed Draco by the shoulders and

flung him onto the bed where he lay helpless on his back. Voldemort
leapt on top of him and grabbed his wrists once more, forcing both of
his hands up above his head. He pinned him there with one hand
and with the other he drew out his wand. The frightened look that
flashed across Draco's face turned him on immensely.

With a swish of his wand, Draco's hands were clamped together in

metal manacles and secured to the bed head by a length of metal
chain. The chain was short meaning that Draco could not move his
arms at all and was completely defenceless and exposed.

Voldemort often held Draco down like this when they fucked. There
was something very raw and unplanned about holding him down
rather than tying or chaining him. Just holding him with his own
strength was very primal and impulsive where as chaining or tying
him seemed to imply a game or a plan was in place. However,
Voldemort thought, there was something to be said for
spontaneously chaining Draco up like this. It meant he was held still
and was completely vulnerable and Voldemort still had both of his
hands free to torment him with!

Voldemort gave a devious smile. Draco was rock hard already and
stared up at him needily desperate for whatever the Dark Lord
decided was to come next. Voldemort sat back and looked at him.
He was not going to rush this encounter.

Draco gave a lovely soft whimper and Voldemort ever so gently ran
his cool hands down the length of Draco's torso. His hands trailed
down over Draco's hip bones making only feather-light contact with
his skin. He continued to explore Draco's body with gentle strokes,
touching him softly, delicately, in stark contrast to the aggressive way
he had thrown Draco down and chained him. Now his touch seemed
designed to tease and torment and he carefully avoided touching
Draco's cock, knowing this was what the boy wanted most.

Although it was teasing him, Draco actually felt quite relaxed under
Voldemort's affectionate touch and he sighed softly. Voldemort
smiled. He would let Draco become totally relaxed before he really
began to tease him! Draco's eyes fluttered closed. He resigned
himself to wait as long as it took, to enjoy Voldemort caressing him,
knowing that eventually he was bound to give in and give him the
good hard fucking he wanted.

Sensing Draco's resignation, Voldemort decided it was time to step

things up a little and begin to really drive his little pet crazy. He
stroked his chest and suddenly gave Draco's nipples a sharp pinch
for just a second.

'Aahh!' Draco gasped. The sensation has shocked him out of his
relaxed state and seemed to send a vibration straight to his cock and
he squirmed in response to the undeniably arousing stimulation.

Voldemort had never really played with Draco this way before, but it
seemed that the results were quite satisfying so he decided to
continue. Taking hold of Draco's now puckered nipples, he began to
rub them between his thumb and forefinger sending waves of sexual
stimulation through Draco who had no idea he was quite so sensitive
in that area! It certainly wasn't an area he paid much attention to
when he was alone… maybe he would in future! As Voldemort
squeezed, rubbed and pulled at his nipples Draco's cock seemed to
get harder and harder and the head wetter and wetter with pre come.
Draco wondered if he could actually climax from this alone, but it
seemed that Voldemort was not going to let that happen. Desire was
building up in Draco's body, each pinch seemed to amplify his need
and he keened up from the bed, trying desperately to press his body
against Voldemort to get some stimulation on his almost painfully
hard dick.

Voldemort saw instantly what he was trying to do and was not going
to allow Draco this! He sat back from him and Draco gasped in
frustration the moment he could no longer feel his masters hands on
him. Voldemort drew out his wand. With a flick, Draco felt cold metal
manacles clasp around his ankles and chains secured them to the
end bedposts. He was held tightly, hands above his head and legs
spread. He had very little movement at all.

What a lovely sight he was, Voldemort thought. Naked and chained

to the bed, completely vulnerable and also rock hard. He knelt
between Draco's legs and simply looked him over, denying him any
physical contact whatsoever.

Draco had realised the nature of the game now and gave a needy
whimper unsure if begging for touch would help or whether it would
make Voldemort hold out longer.

'Please touch me, master.' He whispered softly.

Voldemort smiled a mean smile.

'Oh, I would love to touch you, pet.' He answered. 'But you are so
young and so easily over excited. I need to train you a little, teach
you to be patient.' He drawled.

Draco gave an angry little sob.

'For example…' Voldemort continued, he reached for Draco's hard

cock and stroked one long finger down the length of it. 'If I touch
you… here… You will probably lose control in seconds…'

Draco tried to thrust his hips to get more stimulation.

'Calm down, pet!' Voldemort hissed, withdrawing his hand and

delighting in the flushed and furious expression on Draco's face.

Draco tried his best to lay still, hoping that this was what Voldemort
wanted.

Voldemort gently wrapped his cool fingers around Draco's cock and
began to work his hand back and forth, very slowly, spreading the
wetness of his pre come over the length of his shaft. Draco tensed
and moaned. This was the stimulation he wanted but this slow pace
was still teasing.

'Oh! Oh Gods, yeah!' He gasped as Voldemort's firm tugs pushed

him closer and closer to the edge. Voldemort sped up his strokes.

'Fuck, yes!' Cried Draco, tensing and bracing himself for an intense
climax.

Voldemort felt Draco begin to tremble, a few more strokes and he

would push Draco over the edge…
He stopped. Let go of Draco's cock, sat back and looked at him.
Draco looked like he was about to cry. His whole body had been
poised, ready for the exquisite release he could feel approaching.
Voldemort could have got him there so easily! He had been mere
seconds away and the climax he needed had been snatched away
from him. Voldemort smiled sadistically.

Draco sobbed, he was on the verge of tears.

'You have to learn a little self control.' Voldemort hissed as he leant

forward and stroked Draco's face gently. 'It will be good for you to
learn some discipline.'

'Please, master!' Whimpered Draco. 'I have been waiting all evening!
Please let me come!'

'You can't always get what you want, Draco.' Voldemort drawled as
he sat back and observed the pleading frustrated boy. 'You are very
spoiled and demanding. It's about time you had some proper
training!'

Draco sobbed for real now, tears of frustration beginning to fill his
eyes.

'Now, let's try again, shall we?' Voldemort hissed and he once again
took hold of Draco's cock.

Draco gasped with pleasure as he began to tug again, flicking his

thumb over the head firmly.

'You like that, Draco?' Voldemort whispered.

'Yes, fuck yes!' Breathed Draco raggedly.

Voldemort teased his slit, spreading his pre come over the head of
his cock.

'Does this feel good?' Voldemort asked.

'Gods, yes!' Draco gasped. 'Fuck, fuck, yes!' He cried desperately.

This was Voldemort's cue to stop. He released Draco's cock again

and sat back, having once again pushed Draco to the point where
we was teetering on the edge of orgasm, only to refuse to allow him
to climax.

Almost in disbelief, Draco was sobbing for real now, tears beginning
to roll down his cheeks. Voldemort gently wiped them away.

'There, there pet!' He cooed in an amused tone.

'I hate you!' Sobbed Draco desperately.

Voldemort looked offended and he raised his hand and gave Draco a
sharp slap across the face, the sensation almost felt like relief to
Draco!

'No you don't, pet.' Voldemort smiled. 'You love me, don't you?'

Still sobbing, Draco nodded.

'Tell me.' Voldemort prompted.

'I love you.' Draco whimpered. 'I love you, you fucking bastard!'

He earned himself another slap across the face.

'Such a filthy mouth, and such bad manners! I'm not sure you
deserve any pleasure at all tonight!' Voldemort teased cruelly.

'I'm sorry!' Cried Draco frantically. 'I'm so sorry! I will be good, I

promise!'

Voldemort laughed.

'You don't have any choice about that!' He retorted. 'You are chained
to my bed, naked, you have no choice but to please me in whatever
way I chose!'
'Yes master.' Draco answered sounding suitably chastised.

Voldemort unfastened his own robes and Draco stared needily at the
Dark Lord's thick hard cock. His eyes widened with desire.

'You want this, Draco?' Voldemort laughed, as he took hold of his

own dick and began to work himself with his hand.

'Yes, please master.' Draco gasped. If Voldemort fucked him, he

knew he would come in seconds!

Voldemort knelt above him, looking down at the frustrated mess he

had reduced Draco to. He smiled.

'You would love me to fuck you right now, wouldn't you sweet heart?'
He hissed, tugging at his own cock firmly. 'You would love me to fill
your sweet ass with lube and ram my cock inside you, wouldn't you?'

Draco sobbed deeply. This was almost as bad as being touched and
denied! Voldemort's sinister hissing voice talking filth to him could
push him to the edge at the best of times. This was unbearable!

'Gods! You are such a little slut, Malfoy!' Voldemort laughed. 'I think
you'd do just about anything to get my cock in you. You don't even
care if I get you ready first, do you? All those times I've been so nice
and gentle with you, when all you really want is a good hard
pounding!'

Draco writhed in frustration, held in place by the chains.

'You are a pampered little brat who has always been spoilt, but the
only thing you really want is to be tied up and abused.' Voldemort
hissed. 'You are so pure and perfect, and you just want to be dirty
and obscene. Look at you, you filthy whore! So degraded, so
humiliated and still so turned on! You want it, don't you, slut? You
want me to fuck you!'
'Oh Gods, Yes! Please! Please fuck me!' Draco wailed as he
watched Voldemort furiously tugging his own cock. 'Please, fuck me,
now. Fuck me hard! Hurt me, beat me! Please! I don't care! I don't
care what you do to me, do whatever you want! Just please, please
fuck me now!'

Draco's desperate, impassioned cries had taken Voldemort over the

edge, which had been his intention all along. He came in rapid
spurts, shooting ribbons of come over Draco as he lay helpless on
the bed beneath him. He covered Draco in his fluid, from his face to
his cock, Draco was splashed with come.

Voldemort gave a deep, gratified sigh and sat back, closing his eyes
for a moment, savouring his climax in an overtly demonstrative way,
to emphasise to the still frustrated Draco just how satisfying it had
been. He fastened his robes back around himself and smiled. Draco
looked so angry and upset!

'Awww, pet!' He cooed maliciously. 'Is that not what you wanted? But
you look so pretty when you cry, and you look even prettier when
you are covered in my come!'

'I fucking hate you!' Yelled Draco crossly, not caring at all if it earned
him more slaps.

Laughing, Voldemort lay down beside Draco and gently stroked his
face with the tips of his fingers. Draco sobbed. Voldemort trailed his
fingers through his come and then placed them on Draco's lips,
forcing his mouth open gently, making Draco lick his fingers clean. It
felt very degrading, particularly because of the slow and almost
affectionate way he did it. Draco was so angry, but lived in hope that
the game was not yet over as Voldemort continued to tease him.

Voldemort silently trailed his cold hand back down Draco's body to
his cock. He was no longer fully erect, perhaps having decided it was
pointless to be so. Voldemort began to stroke him back and forth, the
sensation made even more intense by the wetness of his come.
Draco closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Surely his lover would let
him get there this time!

His cock stiffened in Voldemort's hand and with what little movement
he had, he began to buck his hips.

'Poor little pet!' Voldemort whispered into his ear, making him shiver.
'Am I a cruel master? Do you really hate me so much?'

'I… love, you!' Draco gasped as the intense pleasure washed over
him in waves. 'I love you… so much!' He gasped, feeling so close, as
though any second now…

Voldemort stopped and let go of him again.

This time Draco screamed in frustration, really screamed. This was

too cruel! And the moment he got these chains off he would attack
Voldemort himself! He would tie him down! He would force feed him
sexual stamina potions and then he would ride him mercilessly all
day, God damn it! He began to cry.

Voldemort only laughed at him.

'Gods! You are fickle, aren't you pet?' He hissed. 'You hate me if I
don't get you off, but the moment I start touching your cock you are
madly in love with me. Who knew your affection could be so easily
bought?'

'I always love you!' Sobbed Draco. 'Even when you hate me!'

'I never hate you, pet.' Voldemort whispered. 'You just need a little
training, for your own good. You know I will take care of you in the
end.'

Draco gave no reply, only a tearful sob. Usually he was sure of this,
but this evening Voldemort seemed to delight only in taking him to
the brink of ecstasy and then denying him a climax. It was too much
to bare.
'Don't you trust me, pet?' Voldemort asked, sitting up and looking
questioningly at the poor tearful boy.

Draco gave no response.

Voldemort moved back to between Draco's legs and gently and

teasingly began to toy with his balls.

'You think I would leave you, all night, completely unsatisfied?' He

whispered.

'I… I don't know.' Draco moaned, wanting to relish the touch, but
almost not enjoying it for the fear it would end too soon. Voldemort
sensed this. It was time.

Giving Draco a playful look, Voldemort lowered his head to Draco's

cock. Taking hold of it with one hand he whispered,

'I want to please you, pet, of course I do. But you have to earn it
sometimes, don't you? You have done well tonight.'

With that, he swiped his tongue across the head of Draco's achingly
hard cock, tasting his own come mixed with Draco's pre come. He
ran his tongue teasingly around the head of Draco's cock, before
taking it in his mouth and beginning to suck him firmly.

Draco tensed his fists and gasped, feeling as though his whole body
might dissolve in pleasure. If Voldemort stopped this before the end,
Draco thought he might actually die of frustration! Draco had
completely lost the power of speech and made only deep rasping
sobs as Voldemort worked his mouth up and down on his cock.
Considering he rarely took this subservient role, Voldemort was mind
blowingly good at giving head, Draco's mind processed, as
coherently as he could. He wished to the Gods he wasn't as close as
he was, because he wanted this to go on all night!

Voldemort suddenly took the whole length in his mouth, the grip of
his throat muscles tight around Draco's cock in a way Draco had
never even imagined. Draco cried out loud, as in only a couple of
thrusts with what limited movement he had, he was pushed to the
spectacular climax which had been denied to him all evening.

He screamed as he came, his whole body convulsing with pleasure.

He came harder and longer than he could recall in the past, it
seemed that all the teasing and tormenting had been worth it as his
body trembled as his come pulsed out of his throbbing cock and
Voldemort swallowed the lot. 'Perhaps he really does love me after
all…' Draco's hazy brain mused as his breathing slowed down to the
normal rate again.

Voldemort sat back and looked at Draco, a dazed but ecstatic smile
creeping over his weary flushed face. Voldemort smiled too. It was
so gratifying to have that power over his adorable little pet.

Draco seemed almost lost in bliss. He hardly even noticed Voldemort

reach for his wand and vanish the chains from his ankles. The chain
that held his wrists did not vanish, but it did become longer so that
he at last had some movement, which he realised he needed after
being held in the same position for so long.

Now disrobed, Voldemort pulled back the bed covers and lay beside
Draco. He covered both of them in the blanket. Draco lay on his side
and Voldemort held him tightly from behind. Draco closed his eyes.
He felt bizarrely safe and secure like this. He snuggled in, pressing
his body firmly against Voldemort's.

'Thank you.' He whispered, in a sleepy, almost silent voice.

Voldemort squeezed him tightly.

'My pleasure, baby.' He whispered in reply and Draco, chains still

around his wrists, fell happily asleep in his arms.
Chapter 57
Draco awoke the next morning from a deep and satisfied sleep. He
opened his eyes and tried to sit up, realising at once that he couldn't
as he was still chained to the headboard. Voldemort was not laying
next to him and Draco felt a moment of panic. Had he left him like
this on purpose, or as was more likely, had he just got up and
forgotten? Had he gone far? Draco writhed against the chains. This
was kind of irritating!

A soft hiss came from the end of the bed and Draco jumped. He
looked down and saw Nagini coiled, and starting to move. How long
had she been there?

'I'm sorry, Nagini.' Whispered Draco. 'Did I wake you up?'

He spoke to her despite knowing she couldn't understand him.

Voldemort spoke to her, but he could speak parseltongue. Draco
wondered how much like 'real' talking it was when they spoke. Could
Nagini have conversations like a human can? She was strange
really. Not quite an equal, not quite a pet. Draco giggled, as it
occurred to him that she might think the same about him!

She slithered up to his head and looked at him quizzically.

'Yes, I know!' Said Draco. 'It's very embarrassing. I think he's

forgotten me. Do you know where he has gone?'

She hissed again and darted her tongue onto the tip of his nose.

Draco laughed and then sighed.

'He's gone somewhere, hasn't he?' Draco continued. He had no one

else to talk to after all. 'He could have unchained me first. He knows
I would have stayed here if he asked me to!'

Nagini looked like she was listening.

Draco twisted over onto his back.

'I guess I'm stuck here 'till he remembers me.' He sighed.

'I haven't forgotten you!' Came a cool voice from the doorway.

Draco jumped and looked over to see Voldemort standing in the

room.

'And I wasn't far away either.' He added.

'Where where you?' Asked Draco. 'Were you listening to me talking

to Nagini?' He was a little embarrassed.

Voldemort came and sat on the bed. He stoked Nagini with one hand
and Draco with the other. He smiled.

'She's very important to me, we have a kind of connection.'

Voldemort said. 'I could feel you talking to her.' He whispered
something in parseltongue and Nagini descended from the bed and
slithered towards the door.

'What did you say to her?' Draco asked curiously, feeling rather
annoyed as he remembered the fact that Potter could actually speak
parseltongue.

'I told her I have prepared her breakfast for her.' Voldemort said and
Draco laughed. He had imagined they were exchanging dark snakey
secrets in this mysterious language.

'Will you unchain me please?' Draco asked sweetly.

Voldemort smiled.

'As you asked so nicely, I suppose I will.' He drew out his wand and
gave it a flick and Draco's chains vanished meaning he was able to
sit up and stretch at last. Voldemort wrapped his arms around Draco
and kissed the top of his head.
'Can I have a shower?' Draco asked.

'Of course. You don't have to ask me.' Voldemort replied.

Draco smiled. He had asked with an ulterior motive.

'Will you join me though?' He asked playfully.

'Certainly.' Voldemort replied. 'Go and get in, I will be there in a

moment.'

Fresh and clean after a rather hot and steamy shower, they sat at
the table drinking coffee feeling thoroughly relaxed. They seemed to
be in a strange sort of limbo land, a tranquil moment between what
they had already been through and all that was to come. Somewhere
in the back of his mind Draco was aware of the need to be relaxed
now, as he could not avoid the fact that a war was coming. He tried
to put it from his mind.

All of a sudden he felt a jarring, needling sensation rush over him. A

deep shiver through his veins, an unsettling feeling as though
someone had just walked over his grave. He jumped and gave aloud
gasp.

'Draco!' Exclaimed Voldemort, reaching for his hand. 'What's the

matter?' Draco did not seem to be hurt or injured, why had he
flinched like that?

Draco was suddenly breathless as though a great shock had winded

him. He struggled to compose himself, gripping Voldemort's hand
hard. At length he spoke.

'It's Potter.' He whispered shakily. 'He's using my wand.'

Voldemort had tried to calm Draco down. It didn't matter. Most adult
wizards could use any wand to a degree, it didn't mean anything.
Voldemort had to admit though, it was strange that Draco could feel
it so deeply each time Potter cast a spell. The wand, it seemed was
answering to Potter but clearly was still Draco's. It didn't quite make
sense, but if there was one thing that Voldemort had learnt in all his
years, it was that, annoyingly, sometimes magical things didn't make
perfect sense at first glance.

'I don't want it to work for him!' Draco had cried, tears in his eyes.
'Why is it answering him! I want it to backfire on him and curse him
to hell!' He had been quite beside himself with distress.

Voldemort had held him tightly, wishing he had a clearer answer to

give Draco.

'It's alright, honey.' He had cooed at him. 'I will get it back for you,
and I'll make him pay for all the times he has hurt you.'

Draco tried to feel comforted but he was devastated. The likelihood

was that Potter would try to attack Voldemort with his wand! Draco
could not bear the thought. He had always felt so connected to that
wand and now he felt like it was betraying him each time it worked
for Potter.

It was important that he put a brave face on it though. Voldemort had

enough to deal with without his distress and anxiety. After all, it
would be Voldemort who actually had to face Potter and battle him.
This thought too bought Draco near to tears and although he had
never been brave by nature, if he could have faced Potter in
Voldemort's place, he would have done so. It was testimony to just
how deeply he loved Voldemort that he would have flung himself in
the line of fire to protect him, as this sort of behaviour was not
natural to him. The least he could do was try and be calm about the
wand issue. It began to 'hurt' less with each spell anyway. He could
still feel it each time Potter cast with it, but he learned to control the
flinching and pretend that everything was ok. He didn't want to make
a fuss when there were many more issues to be concerned about.

War was fast approaching, and Draco wondered how, in his

preoccupation and self involvement, he had managed to avoid
thinking about it for as long as he had. Now there was nowhere to
hide. Plans were being made and it was dangerous to wait any
longer as lost time would simply allow Potter to get stronger and
acquire more knowledge and power.

It seemed crazy to Draco that it was Potter who was the great
looming threat. He remembered Potter as a child when they first
started at Hogwarts. He pictured the 11 year old Potter refusing to
shake his hand and sneering away from him in favour of Weasley.
He remembered the scruffy, badly dressed kid who looked like he
was going to wet himself with excitement whenever he witnessed
even the most mediocre of magic. The boy who knew literally
nothing about wizard culture or magical law. He had been annoying,
and he had the usual arrogant, brutish Gryffindor bravado to him.
Then there had been that infuriating phase in 4th year when he was
in the tri-wizard tournament and had suddenly got really buff and
everyone started swooning over him. But at the end of the day, all
that time he had just been 'Potter'. The irritating do gooder who
everyone wanted to fawn over simply because of who his parents
were. The sob story orphan famous for no real merits of his own.
The sickly nice guy hero who always saved the day and still had time
to win a quidditch match and free a house elf in his spare time. He
was Gilderoy Lockheart but without the dress sense, as far as Draco
was concerned.

Except that now he was a danger, a real danger. Not just a danger.
He was the danger. If Potter had his way, Voldemort would be killed.
'He would probably kill me too.' Thought Draco. 'Or throw me into
Azkaban for life.' He would expose the whole of the wizarding world
to muggle society. Half of the wizards would be murdered in their
beds by muggles who feared them. And the others would be forced
to interbreed with muggles so that all the magical blood was watered
down and in a few generations everyone would be a squib!

Draco thought back to the day on the Hogwarts express when he

stamped on Potter's face and broke his nose. 'If only I had known
then the danger he would become… ' Draco mused. 'I could have
killed him there and then!' It was more a frightened musing than any
sort of reality. Draco knew the spell and had seen it performed but
didn't know if he would even be capable of casting it himself.
Besides, he knew that for some reason, Voldemort himself had to be
the one to defeat Potter. It just felt so frustrating that he had been in
such close proximity to Potter for all those years and now Potter was
threatening everyone and everything he loved.

It was hard to be happy, even about all the things that were going
right. The nervous glances of the death eaters as they observed
Draco sitting, not at Voldemort's feet, but at his right hand, at
meetings. Leaning on the arm of his chair and whispering to him
from time to time. The boy was clearly no longer just a toy, but
someone of great importance and influence. Draco tried to enjoy the
feeling of satisfaction and pride he felt, but with the war looming
before them he could not truly relax.

Draco found himself dreaming of simpler times. He was mature

enough to understand that this fight was necessary, but secretly he
liked to picture a different world where he and Voldemort had run
away together and there was no more danger to face. They had
already had enough of that, when were things going to be easy? He
dreamt of a cottage in the woods, a secluded tower in the forest or a
secret house by the sea. Away from trouble, away from his family,
away from the death eaters, hidden from the ministry… It could be
just the two of them, he could even learn to cook and clean if he
needed to. Draco never thought he would feel like that for anyone! It
really was amazing what love could do! Sighing deeply, he packaged
up his visions and hid them away in his mind, never speaking a word
about them to anyone. It was time to be a grown up. It was time to
be brave.
Chapter 58
He had summoned them there. Summoned them there to die, it
seemed. No sooner had the goblin spoken to him, he seemed
possessed, as though some dreadful vision had taken hold of him.
With a fearful scream, he raised his wand and suddenly began firing
killing curses at the occupants of the room.

Draco stood helplessly with his parents. He was scared. For many
reasons. What had happened to make the Dark Lord was so angry?
And was he going to turn his anger onto Draco and his parents? He
appeared out of control, killing almost indiscriminately whoever his
eyes settled on. Draco had never witnessed a scene like this one. To
him it seemed to happen almost in slow motion, yet there was
nothing he could do to make it stop.

He watched, powerless as Voldemort whirled around on his

followers, who now were his victims and shot them dead with flash
after flash of green light, the Elder wand gripped tightly in his
powerful hand. The same hand that only hours before had caressed
Draco's naked skin so tenderly and affectionately. Homicidal cries
tore from his lips. Lips which could kiss so sweetly and whisper so
softly… How could this be the same man? Draco wondered, staring
in horror as the scene seemed to keep on unfolding with no sign of
coming to an end.

At last Voldemort turned and his gaze fell on the Malfoys. Although
his eyes remained wide with anger and bloodlust, something about
the sight before him bought his rage back under control, to a degree.
He lowered his wand, and breathing heavily he walked past them as
they huddled at the far end of the room and departed for the drawing
room.

Although still trembling, Draco turned as Voldemort swept out of the

room and went to follow him. Narcissa grabbed his arm with a small
shrill cry.
'No! Darling, don't!' She implored her son, her eyes shining with
tears.

She had tried, she had really tried! She had done everything she
could to try to accept that her son was having a relationship with this
murderous monster, to try and be okay with it, for Draco's sake. She
had even invited the Dark Lord for a civilised dinner with the family,
cordially entertained him to try and make this whole situation feel
okay. She had wanted desperately to find a way to make it all feel
safe, but after this violent outburst, leaving their house littered with
dead bodies, it seemed it could not be done.

Coolly, Draco touched her hand and lifted it from his arm.

'It's okay.' He whispered.

It wasn't. It definitely wasn't okay. That look of rage on Voldemort's

face was like nothing he had seen before and it terrified him. Draco
didn't know if in walking after him he would be walking into a torture
curse or even a killing curse, but he had to go after his lover.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and that was why
he had to go after him.

Narcissa fell sobbing into Lucius's arms as Draco walked away.

Narcissa was not naive, she knew well enough that her husband had
performed the killing curse in the past, and she knew well enough
that her own sister made a hobby of it. She had come to terms with
the background of violence in her own life but she had always hoped
for a calmer future for Draco. It had broken her heart every time
Lucius had beaten their son as he grew up. She had secretly hope
that this treatment would make Draco seek out kinder relationships
in contrast. If Draco walked into the drawing room after the Dark
Lord whilst his mood was so erratic and out of control, she feared
Draco might not walk out alive.

Draco feared this too, but he was in too deep and cared too much
not to follow him.
The drawing room was dimly lit and Voldemort stood with his back to
the room, facing the fire place. Draco wished he could have seen his
face, he might have been able to read him better that way.
Nervously, he tiptoed inside.

'My lord…? He whispered tentatively.

Voldemort gave no response although he had tensed a little when

Draco spoke, Draco knew that he knew he was there. They were
alone. If there ever was a time that he could get a real response from
Voldemort it was when they were alone. He tried again.

'My Lord, what's wrong? What has happened?'

Voldemort was breathing heavily. He did not speak or turn to face

Draco.

Draco began to feel angry. Clearly something awful had happened,

clearly something had gone wrong. If this were the case he needed
to know about it, now! Voldemort couldn't keep things secret from
him, as though he had no invested interests in the matter. If
something had gone wrong for Voldemort then it had gone wrong for
Draco too. Keeping him in the dark was not an option anymore!

'What's happened?' Draco asked again, his voice beginning to raise.

'Don't shut me out! In the name of the Gods, Tell me what's…'

Voldemort snapped at that moment. He spun round and faced Draco

wand drawn and pointing right at Draco's face.

'How DARE you question me in this manner!' He roared, his red

eyes blazing with anger. 'How dare you make demands of me to tell
you anything!'

Draco's heart hammered at the inside of his chest as fear and

adrenalin pumped through him. How was this even happening? Was
his whole life going to fall apart in his hands, right then and there?
'Please, talk to me.' He whispered softly, a tremor in his quiet voice.

Voldemort lunged towards him, wand still raised.

'Why should I talk to you?' He shouted, venom in his voice. 'You

were a fool to follow me in here!' He raised his wand a little higher.

Draco tried his best not to flinch or cower. Did Voldemort really mean
what he was saying? Did he really mean to talk to him like he was
no-one?

'Please don't do this.' Draco said, sounding pleading but calmer than
he had expected to.

'I will do what I like!' Voldemort shouted at him violently. 'Who the hell
do you think you are to talk to me in this way?' His breathing was
heavy, his eyes were wide with rage, his hand, which gripped his
wand, was shaking as he pointed it at Draco.

His hand was shaking, and his eyes were wide… with something
more than just rage. They were wide with fear. The second Draco
noticed this, everything changed for him.

Calmly he stepped closer to Voldemort, who watched almost in

disbelief.

'I'm your lover.' Draco said softly as he placed his own hand gently
on Voldemort's and encouraged him to lower his wand. 'I love you.
Please don't push me away.'

Draco's serenity and resolve seemed to break Voldemort, and

shaking, he put his wand safely away inside his robes. The anger
evaporating from his eyes, he turned to Draco and grasped him in a
powerful embrace, burying his face into Draco's shoulder.

Draco held him just as tightly in return and sighed as a few tears of
relief ran down his cheeks. He didn't know himself if it was relief that
Voldemort hadn't hurt him or simply relief that Voldemort still loved
him.

Voldemort was shaking, almost convulsing. It took Draco a moment

to realise why. Voldemort was crying, really, really crying, deep
tortured sobs. Draco felt his tears soaking into his jacket. He felt a
little bit afraid. He had never imagined that he would be in this
situation, he didn't quite know what to do. Voldemort kept sobbing.

Draco held him tightly and stroked him. He decided the first thing to
do was to get them both out of the manor as quickly as possible as
he was sure that Voldemort would not want anyone else to witness
this.

'Let's go.' He whispered, and he took the lead in apparating them

into the dark bedroom at the Riddle house.

Sitting on the bed, somehow Draco felt a little safer. Voldemort was
still gripping him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder. Here they
would not be disturbed. Here, they were really alone. Here
Voldemort was more likely to be honest with him.

Draco said nothing for quite some time. He simply held Voldemort
and let him cry. To Voldemort it felt enormously supportive, even if it
was partly because Draco actually couldn't think of the right thing to
say. At length he spoke.

'Are you alright?' He asked, and then felt stupid because the answer
was obviously 'no'. 'Can I do anything?' He asked, deciding this was
more helpful.

Tears finally stopping, Voldemort sat upright and looked at Draco as

though he were quite completely in awe of him.

'I'm sorry…' He began, but Draco kissed the words from his lips the
moment he began to speak.

'It's okay.' He whispered.

Voldemort was so afraid. So dreadfully afraid that he didn't even
know where to begin to explain it to Draco. Voldemort had been
scared most of his life in one way or another.

He had been a frightened orphan raised in a cold, cruel institution, a

lonely little boy who could feel right away that he was different from
those around him. He had been so scared when he began to feel
powers growing within him that he didn't understand and couldn't
control. He had been terrified to tell anyone about them because he
knew what would happen to a child like him if he was 'different.' His
hatred of muggles stemmed from this time. Orphanages, hospitals,
asylums they all functioned pretty much the same way in those days.

He remembered all too vividly cowering on his cold hard bed trying
to hide beneath the thread bare blanket, listening to hurried, hushed
voices outside the locked door of his cell, you could hardly call it a
room. He remembered also the distinctive high pitched squeaking of
the wheeled bed with the straps as it was pushed down the corridor
towards his door. He remembered the clanking sound of the key
turning in the lock and the sound of the heavy door swinging open.
The light in the hall had always seemed so bright that the figure that
stood in the doorway was completely black in silhouette against it.

Voldemort had always wanted to be strong. This man, the one they
always got to 'come for him' when something had happened, he was
strong. He was so big and powerful that a child had no chance
against him. Voldemort remembered being grabbed from his bed,
seeing his familiar little blanket falling on to the floor. He would try to
scream but usually no sound came out. Once he was on the trolley
and the straps were fastened across him there was no chance of
screaming as he could hardly breathe, they held him so tightly.
Several people would hurry alongside the trolley bed, doctors,
nurses and the matron looking frightened, sad and almost apologetic
as she watched the cold silent tears roll down his cheeks. He
watched the metal light fittings rush past over head. There were 22.
They marked the countdown to the terrors that awaited him at the
end of the long tiled corridor.
He was going to be punished. He hadn't even meant to do it, he had
just been so angry. That girl and those boys had been taunting him
all day. They had lost their parents in a fire, an accident. Family
visited them from time to time. He had never known his parents.
They told him his mother was a prostitute and made up vile graphic
stories about how she died. They taunted him until he was close to
tears. Then the fat boy had done it. He had thumped him and spat
on him. Retaliation had been an accident. Anger had surged up
inside him and he had shouted. But somehow his voice had been so
powerful that the fat boy had been thrown back across the room,
thrown over 12 feet into the glass door which had shattered on
impact with his head. There had been blood everywhere, so much
blood. Voldemort remembered he hadn't meant to do it, but he also
remembered that he hadn't been sorry. Until he was taken to the
room at the end of the corridor.

He had been taken there many times. 'An excess of nervous or

electromagnetic energy…' The doctors had said. 'An over
emotionality, probably inherited from the mothers side, often linked to
venereal diseases… An emotional disorder, an illness of the mind…'
The doctors had pontificated to one another, talking about him as if
he were not there. The matron nodded anxiously, signing papers to
allow any experimental treatment the good doctors thought might
help. The doctors it seemed had many ingenious ways they could try
to rid the child of the 'excess of energy' that seemed to cause these
strange outbursts. Total immersion in ice cold water might shock it
out of him? Perhaps bloodletting was the way forward, it would
certainly make him weaker and less able to lash out. Lack of food
could also be effective, or perhaps lack of water? Maybe total rest
would help, enforced relaxation, restricted movement over a number
of days? If this didn't work perhaps some chemical assistance would
do the trick. Failing that there was this new cutting edge treatment
available. Perhaps electric shock treatment could chase the bad
energy out of the boy?

'Treatments' could go on for hours, even days at a time until all hope
was gone that life could ever be anything other than sheer hell. They
would go on until even the memory of that fat little bastard laying in a
pool of his own blood bought no comfort. The only reason
Voldemort's heart didn't stop beating was because one day he would
make them pay. One day he would be so powerful that no one would
ever be able to hurt him again. He would be so strong he would be
able to break a man in a heartbeat. He would be in control. Of
everything. Never again would he be powerless. Never again would
he be a victim. One day he would be the powerful one and then
everyone would have to fear him. The whole world would pay.

His whole childhood had been coloured by fear. The fear of the
torture that would come as a result of a silly, involuntary, childish
outburst which he didn't know how to control.

Voldemort wondered if there was ever a time in his life when he had
not been scared in one way or another. Even once he went to
Hogwarts, even after he left, he had to take such great risks to get
what he wanted, there was always danger. But he would never give
up, the scars were too deep, he would never stop fighting. Perhaps
once he rose to power he would feel safe? However even when you
are a leader there is always fear that you may be over thrown. Fear
stalked him, waiting for a vulnerable moment when it could destroy
him utterly.

Yet, here he had been vulnerable. Completely vulnerable. He had

cried like a baby in the arms of a 17 year old schoolboy who called
himself his lover. Cried like a heartbroken child on the shoulder of
this once frail looking boy who all of a sudden had become a tower
of strength. As he wept, Voldemort had been sure that Draco would
protect him. Draco would have chased away dragons, ghosts,
doctors and any other monsters if they had dared to approach.
Inside Voldemort, seven year old Tom Riddle knew that he could
lean on this pretty white haired boy who was just as strange as he
was. This magical boy would protect him and if they were together,
nothing could get him ever again. Seven year old Tom Riddle's tears
had been tears of gratitude as Draco held him.
Voldemort wondered if he would ever tell Draco all of this? Could he
tell rich, spoilt pure-blood Draco, the boy who grew up in a manor
house with his aristocratic parents, all about his childhood in a
muggle orphanage? Voldemort reflected. He knew it was not as
simple as that. Draco's childhood may have been a million times
better than his own but it had not been ideal either. Not like people
imagined it would have been. Draco didn't talk about it, but he and
Voldemort were both strong telepaths, they sometimes
communicated without talking. Voldemort knew all about Lucius's
cruel beatings and even crueller words to Draco as he grew up. He
knew how lonely Draco had been as his parents found so few
families they approved with children for him to play with. Voldemort
knew that, until he was 10, Draco had played with a ghost child who
haunted the top floors of the manor, believing that he was a living
boy. He knew that Draco had cried himself to sleep the night Lucius
had told him the boy was dead, and that from that moment onwards,
Draco had never seen his friend again. Draco had never told
Voldemort any of this. He just knew. On some level, Draco knew
about Voldemort's past too. Knew how hurt he had been, knew he
had been powerless and that he needed to be in control. Draco
seemed to know instinctively that Voldemort had never known his
parents or any of his family. Draco certainly knew that he was deeply
wounded and could not quite handle the pain. For some reason this
didn't frighten Draco away.

Now as a 71 year old, Voldemort had different fears to battle than

those he had faced when he was a child. His tears came from the
realisation that in all of his fearful life he had never been as scared
as he was now. Because of Draco. All of his life he had feared for his
own safety, for his own well being. He had been frightened about
what would happen to him if things went wrong. He had never loved,
never really even liked anyone else and as a result had never had to
worry about anyone else's welfare. But now there was Draco. Draco,
who he had only ever intended as a play thing, but now was so much
more. Draco was everything. Draco soothed his tattered soul and set
his heart on fire all at once. He loved Draco and Draco loved him in
return. He had never understood it before but it seemed that love
really was a magical binding contract. He and Draco were now
intrinsically linked and what affected one affected the other. If
something was a danger to him it was also a danger to Draco.
Voldemort had never known fear like this. If he were to fail, if he were
to be killed, what would happen to Draco?

It was all too much. There was a way forward from here, but he
needed to escape if only for a short time. He stood up and walked
over to the window. The curtains were shut as they usually were but
he stared forward as though he were looking at the scene outside.

Draco was still sitting on the bed. He frowned, his face contorted with
sympathy and emotion. It was true, Voldemort did not need to tell
Draco anything verbally, as the memories had flashed through his
mind, Draco had been able to read a good percentage of them
without even trying to, such was the connection between them. His
heart broke for his lover. He would do anything to alleviate the pain!
He watched him, unsure of how best to help. It was a horrible
powerless feeling, seeing someone you love suffer and not knowing
what to do to make them better. He stood up and walked over to
Voldemort. He stood several paces behind him, giving him space,
but letting him know he was there.

'I'm sorry I shouted at you.' Voldemort said calmly, still staring

forward at the closed curtains.

Draco paused for a moment.

'I just want to help you.' He said at last. 'You can't shut me out any
more.'

Voldemort sighed deeply.

'You should have run away from me a long time ago, Draco. I have
hurt you so much and still you haven't run away from me.'

'So when are you finally going to get the message that I'm not going
to run away from you?' Draco asked softy. He moved close behind
Voldemort and wrapped his arms around his waist. 'I'm here. You're
kind of stuck with me, I'm afraid.' He sensed Voldemort smile. 'So,
what is it you need from me?' He asked.

Voldemort turned to face Draco. Draco's face was so open and

bright. He seemed to shine, and even in a dimly lit room, he had a
glow about him. Voldemort looked into his cool twilight grey eyes,
they glistened like calm water reflecting the stars. Voldemort began
to feel renewed hope that he could be alright again, if only he could
lose himself for a short time, with Draco. He lent to kiss him,
capturing his lips in the gentlest of kisses. Draco's lips were the
softest shade of pink, like pale rose petals and Voldemort felt them
curl into a smile as they met with his own. In a harmonious contrast,
their mouths pressed together and Draco deepened the kiss, parting
his lips and running his tongue over Voldemort's. It was lovely to kiss
him, Voldemort thought. It was such a precious gift, the love of this
strange pale boy who seemed to be half angel half demon, fragile
yet strong, pure yet wicked.

Drawing out of the kiss Draco asked again?

'What can I do?'

Voldemort sighed softly, stroking the soft blond hair back from
Draco's face. He whispered;

'Do you remember you once told me that you needed me?' He
asked.

Draco did not know the specific time he was referring to, but he was
sure he had told him this, probably on a number of occasions. He
nodded.

'You told me that sometimes the whole world is too much and you
feel dreadful. That you need me to be in control and make everything
else go away.'

Draco remembered now.

'Yes?' He said calmly.

Voldemort paused and took a breath as though trying to summon

enough courage to speak his next words.

'I think…' He paused. 'I think I need you to do that for me.' He said,
his voice a broken, quiet whisper.

Draco quietly processed the information. It made sense. Voldemort

had been so scared and angry, he had felt out of control. Just for a
short time, he wanted what it was that he so regularly gave to Draco.
He wanted someone strong to take the reins for a while. Someone
he could serve, someone he could look up to and please. Someone
who would take control of him and care for him. Draco understood
that need completely. He could do this for his lover.

Unspoken words seemed to pass between them. Things that

Voldemort could not yet bring himself to say out loud… 'You don't
have to take me the way that I take you, but please, let me serve
you. Please, just for now, be my master and let me be your slave…'

Draco nodded and kissed him gently and Voldemort looked at him
anxiously. Could Draco do this?

Draco's aristocratic features took on a look of regal pride and power,

an expression which was an odd mix of cruelty and benevolence
across his face. His eyes narrowing, he glared at Voldemort.

'Get on your knees.' He hissed softly in a voice that sounded like

music.

Humbled by his beauty and pride, Voldemort fell to his knees before
him. Draco gripped his shoulder hard and looked down at him with
an air of superiority and a strangely sweet smile. He looked deep
into Voldemort's eyes, feeling the intensity of connection between
them.

'Today you will worship me.' He whispered.

Looking up into his beautiful face, Voldemort answered him.

'I have always worshiped you, Draco.'

Draco surprised himself at his ability to dominate. But it made sense

really. He knew enough of submission and vulnerability to
understand the need that Voldemort felt. With majestic calmness he
had ordered Voldemort to disrobe, not allowing him to rise from his
knees until Draco demanded that he undress him also, insisting that
his clothes were neatly folded, and a silk dressing gown bought to
him. He then relaxed in the large chair and had Voldemort crawl on
his hands and knees towards him.

He ordered Voldemort to kiss his feet, which he did dutifully, covering

every inch of his flesh with tender kisses and caresses. Draco sat,
with a tyrannous, beautiful smile on his angelic face as the Dark Lord
kissed his lower legs and was then allowed to work up to his thighs.
Draco rose from his chair and walked gracefully over to the bed
summoning Voldemort to follow him, still on his hands and knees.

Draco's dominance was far more gentle than Voldemort's, but no

less controlling. He insisted that Voldemort anoint and massage him
with sweet smelling oil and Voldemort relished the opportunity to
explore his lovers body, lingering over each muscle, losing himself if
the sensuous flats and curves that were the landscape of Draco's
skin.

When Voldemort's touching became too enthusiastic and grasping,

Draco admonished him with a sharp slap across the face
accompanied with the silkiest command to behave. Draco didn't
raise his voice, but it seemed he didn't need to in order to be
effective.

Draco was selfish and demanding. He reclined back against the

headboard and ordered Voldemort to suck his cock. Draco lay still for
as long as he could, simply relishing the care and attention that
Voldemort put into giving him head, but as he felt himself getting
close he could hold back no longer. Voldemort did not have any hair
for Draco to grab, as Voldemort usually did to him when the roles
were reversed. Draco settled for grabbing the back of his neck. He
held him tightly, digging his nails into his skin, forcing him to
accommodate his increasingly aggressive thrusts. He came hard
with a satisfied cry and then praised his slave affectionately with soft
kisses as a reward.

Wanting to push for greater trust, Draco had Voldemort naked on his
knees on the bed. Draco did not tie him, realising this would be too
much this first time, but gave him strict instructions not to move or
flinch while he touched him. Draco caressed Voldemort's naked
body, selfishly admiring his defined muscles. He tormented his
nipples and then his cock making him gasp in pleasure and leaving
him hanging on the edge of his desire. If he flinched too much Draco
would slap him and tell him, in his soft pretty voice, to be still and not
to make a fuss.

Voldemort willingly obeyed his beautiful master, fulfilling his every

wish, serving his every desire. For two hours, Draco controlled him
and he was Draco's slave. Draco made all the decisions, made all
the rules, gave all the instructions with cool, quiet confidence and an
icy reticence. This kept his commands devoid of emotion making the
need to follow them seem greater as it was impossible to know what
would be the consequences of not doing so.

Draco learnt a great deal about himself that afternoon. About his
capacity to give to another and his ability to sense boundaries. Draco
had the potential to push Voldemort further and suspected that one
day he would. But he had a good idea of what was right for today
and didn't want to take his lover too far from his comfort zone. He
made his demands and Voldemort followed them. There was little
need to reprimand him today.

Voldemort learnt a great deal that day too. For the first time ever in
his life, he had articulated his need to be loved. It felt as if he had
taken his crumbling, porcelain heart from inside his chest and placed
it at Draco's feet. Draco had picked it up in his hand and when he
could have crushed it to smithereens, instead he poured over each
piece of it for his own pleasure, glued it back together with his kisses
and returned it more intact than it had ever been before.

In those two hours, Voldemort was aware only of Draco and himself.
No world existed outside of their bedroom. There was nothing else
that mattered beyond pleasing his beautiful master. There was
nothing to worry about beyond making sure that he was perfectly
happy.

When Draco's teasing touches had worked Voldemort into a

yearning mass of desperate desire, Draco at last commanded
Voldemort to fuck him. Draco lay on his front on the bed and made
his demands.

'Now you will fuck me.' He said coolly. 'And you will concern yourself
only with my pleasure, not with your own.' He added firmly.

'Of course, master.' Voldemort had whispered softly and he began to

prepare Draco, lovingly and with the greatest of care. He had to
reconsider much of his technique when actually fucking Draco,
focusing only on movements that would be pleasing to Draco, slow,
firm and sensuous. He held back his own need and wants for hard
and fast, which would have satisfied his own lust quickly. He
certainly learned a few tricks about how to please Draco and drive
him wild, things he would remember and use in the future.

When at last Draco demanded aggressively that he fuck him hard,

Voldemort used all of his physical power to take Draco to the point of
ecstasy, climaxing himself with his master, amazed at just how
satisfying it was to please the one who ruled you.

Afterwards they lay together, Voldemort resting his head on Draco,

Draco's arm affectionately around him. Neither of them spoke for
some time, they were both somewhat lost for words.

Voldemort began to feel strong again. Draco had given him so much
that afternoon, he had been so strong, so gentle, so commanding
and in control. He sighed deeply and sat up, turning to face the
beautiful boy.

It was time to trust Draco. It was time to tell him about horcruxes.
Chapter 59
Draco listened. Listened attentively and supportively, and really tried
his best to remain calm.

On reflection, later, he supposed it must have seemed like a good

idea at the time. It had been a good idea, hadn't it? Without them
Voldemort would have been destroyed 16 years ago when he first
tried to kill Potter…

So the horcruxes had been a good idea, in themselves. But hiding

them all in such strange locations? Draco was less convinced that
this had been a good idea, but he tried his best to remain calm. It
was just that he had been so convinced that everything would be
alright once Voldemort had the Elder wand. Draco had convinced
himself that once Voldemort had mastered this wand that he would
be invincible, Potter would not be able to harm him. Instead it was
worse than Draco had ever imagined. Potter was able to kill
Voldemort piece by piece without even having to face him directly!

Taking a deep breath and trying to battle the overpowering nausea

he felt, Draco took hold of Voldemort's hands.

'So… How many were there?' He asked. Voldemort had told him the
whole story of how they were created and why, without pausing. It
was like a confession. Draco needed to clarify the facts.

'Effectively, there were 6.' Voldemort replied. It was amazing how

calm he felt simply from having told Draco about this. It was as if the
burden had been lightened somehow, even though poor Draco was
now struggling under the weight of it. Voldemort, at this moment, was
aware only of his own relief.

'There were 6.' Draco echoed. 'How many are there now?' This was
the important question!
'The diary was destroyed years ago.' Voldemort answered him.
'Potter destroyed it in the chamber of secrets, in 1993.'

'He's known about them all that time?' Draco gasped, sounding a
little outraged. Voldemort should have told him before!

'He didn't know what he was doing.' Voldemort answered. 'It was
more like a fluke.'

Draco could believe it, that would be just like Potter!

'Dumbledore destroyed the ring.' Voldemort continued. 'In 1996.' He

added.

Draco nodded gravely.

'The locket was destroyed by Potters companion in December 1997.'

Voldemort said quietly. He looked a little guilty or ashamed about this
one as if he sensed Draco's anger.

'That was only five months ago!' Draco exclaimed, feeling too many
emotions all at once to even begin to be able to articulate any of
them. Five months ago, he had been working with Voldemort to find
the Elder wand. Five months ago that had been close to one
another, they talked, they confided secrets. 'Clearly not all secrets!'
Draco thought, feeling somewhat betrayed.

'I'm sorry, Draco!' Voldemort exclaimed, touching his face gently. 'I
didn't want to worry you.'

Draco thought that was a ridiculous excuse.

'But, the danger you were in!' He cried. 'You were being killed! Don't
you think I would have wanted to know?'

'A bit like the danger you were in when Wormtail was taunting you
into attacking Dumbledore?' Voldemort replied. 'You didn't tell me
about that.'
'That was different!' Draco exclaimed vehemently. 'I was scared of
you. We didn't really talk much back then. We did last December
though. I thought you trusted me.'

'I do trust you.' Voldemort said firmly. 'You don't doubt that now, not
after everything we have been through today.' He sounded resolute,
this was a statement not a question. He was right.

'Yes, I know.' Draco breathed. Being angry would not help, of course.
He did feel hurt, but Voldemort was trusting him now, and that was
what mattered.

'I am sorry. I should have confided in you.' Voldemort confessed. 'I

just didn't want you to know I was vulnerable. I thought it would
upset you and…' He paused. 'And I liked you thinking I was
invincible.'

Part of Draco thought it was silly that Voldemort would have

concealed such important information from him for such a foolish,
egocentric reason. However, he placed it in the wider context of all
that he knew about Voldemort. In the context of the vulnerable,
defenceless child part of Voldemort who wept in Draco's arms. Of
course it would be the most addictive thing in the world when
someone thought of you in the way you always wanted to be thought
of. Of course you would do anything to keep them looking at you as
if you were everything you ever wanted to be. It wasn't a silly reason,
it was a sad one.

'You are the most strong and powerful person I have ever known!'
Draco reassured him. 'I just want to be able to help you.' Draco said
softly. 'Tell me which ones are left. Tell me what happened today that
made you so angry.'

Voldemort sighed deeply.

'There is a horcrux that was hidden in your aunt Bellatrix's vault at

Gringotts.' Voldemort began as calmly as he could. 'The goblin had
betrayed me to Potter and his friends and helped them. But then he
told me that they had accessed the vault, and that something was
taken.'

'The horcrux?' Draco asked nervously.

'Yes. It's Helga Hufflepuff's cup. Bellatrix has kept it safe for some
time, however she must have given the game away when Potter was
at your house. She panicked when she thought that Potter and his
friends had taken something from the vault. He must have realised
that she was hiding something there for me.'

Draco squeezed his hand tightly.

'So he does know about them now?'

'Yes. He knows now.' Voldemort replied. 'He has the cup and he is
on a mission to destroy it and track down the others.'

Draco felt his chest grow tighter as his panic began to rise.

'OK.' he whispered, trying to steady himself. 'OK. What about the

other 2? What are they and where are they?'

'Nagini is one.' Voldemort whispered.

Draco gave a loud gasping sob, clamping his hand over his mouth,
unsure if he was going to vomit or cry at the idea that Potter would
hunt and kill Nagini.

'We'll keep her safe.' He managed, tears in his eyes at the thought
that anyone would try to hurt his beloved pet, which was how he now
thought of her. 'We keep her here, hidden from everyone.'

Voldemort nodded. He hated this. He hated Draco's distress, hated

seeing him in such pain. Although it let him know just how much
Draco cared for him, it was almost unbearable to witness. He
hugged him tightly for a moment. It felt good. It felt safe.

'What about the other one?' Draco asked at last.

'It's Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.' Voldemort told him. 'It's at
Hogwarts.'

Draco's eyes lit up. Finally a glimmer of hope!

'At Hogwarts? Where?' He asked in a frantic voice.

'It's hidden in the room of requirement.' Voldemort answered.

Draco pushed down the renewed surge of anger that he had been so
close to it all that time without knowing. It was what he could do now
that mattered.

'OK.' Said Draco, firmly. 'You said Potter is hunting for them. Does he
know where it is?'

'Yes.' Voldemort answered quietly.

'How?' Asked Draco aghast.

'I don't know, not fully.' Voldemort confessed. 'Sometimes, and I don't
know why, sometimes he can read my thoughts.'

Draco was shocked. Potter was a complete dunce at legillimens! He

must have looked shocked because Voldemort said;

'I know it doesn't make sense. Sometimes it has worked in my favour

because I've read his thoughts too. That's how I know he is going to
head to Hogwarts to try and find the diadem.'

Draco nodded and stood up. There was no time to waste.

'Right.' He said assertively. 'I will go there, now, and I will find it
before he even has a chance to access the castle. That in itself won't
be easy for him. I will take it away and I will hide it somewhere. That
way even if he reads your mind, he won't know where it is.'

Voldemort was shocked at Draco's quick thinking.

'You will have to make sure that I can't read you to find out where it
is.' He warned gently.

Draco raised an eyebrow slightly scornfully.

'I can do that.' He replied.

Voldemort smiled. This meant that all the things he had ever read
from Draco were things he had actually chosen to trust him with.
There was something lovely about that.

'There is no time to waste.' Draco said. 'I will go there now. I'll use
the flue network and go to Snape's office. I can warn him about
Potter, too.'

'Be careful.' Voldemort said, kissing Draco on the forehead.

'As far as anyone knows, I'm only going to Hogwarts. It's the end of
the Easter holidays anyway, Hogwarts is where I'm supposed to be.'
He smiled.

Draco felt far from happy, but at least there was something he could
actually do to help, but he had to act fast.
Chapter 60
Draco apparated back to the manor, his mother rushed towards him
but there was no time to discuss matters with his parents now. The
scene they had witnessed earlier had been dramatic, but for Draco
the drama had not yet stopped. There was no time to talk.

'I'm going to school!' Was all he managed to shout, before grabbing

a handful of flue power and diving into the fireplace.

He stepped out in Snape's office. The room was deserted but he

could hear Snape's deep voice resonating from the next room. It
stopped almost instantly however, having heard the flash as Draco
arrived.

Snape stepped into the room, looking somewhat more flustered than
was usual. He stopped in his tracks when he saw his visitor.

'Draco!' He exclaimed. He had clearly not been expecting company.

On seeing Severus, memories came flooding back into Draco's mind

of the dreadful hours when he had thought that Snape would have to
die for Voldemort to be able to master the Elder wand. All of the
emotion leapt back into Draco's heart and his eyes filled with tears.
He was so anxious after all he had learned today that really, the
slightest thing could probably have pushed him over the edge.

He rushed to Snape and flung his arms around him, his face pressed
against his shoulder. He sobbed deeply into his black robes.

Snape was taken aback by this, but held Draco tightly, unsure what
the matter was. He felt a little nervous, had something happened?
Draco remained tightly pressed against him for several minutes while
he fought with all of his emotions and fears, getting them back under
control whilst safely in the embrace of someone who cared about
him.
'Are you alone?' Draco asked at last. 'I heard voices…' He glanced
anxiously towards the other room.

'What… No.' Snape replied. 'I… I was just thinking aloud, that's all.'

Draco froze, and his eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in

deep thought. Snape never spoke like that. Something was wrong.
Draco could feel it now, something was not as it should be.

Snape was hiding something! Snape had been talking to someone

and he had just lied about it to Draco. 'Why?' Draco panicked. He
strengthened his mental guard, if Snape was keeping secrets from
him, he must not give anything away to him either, at least until he
knew what was going on, and why Snape was lying!

'I am alone, Draco.' Snape assured him, his voice back to its usual
cool drawl. 'What is the matter?' He asked, resting his hands on
Draco's shoulders.

Draco had come here with the full intention of telling Snape
everything. Everything that had happened since he had gone home
for the Easter break. The Elder wand, Potter at the manor, the break
in at Gringotts and Potter's mission to get back to Hogwarts… But
Snape's odd response to his first question had thrown him
completely off track. He did not know what to say.

Had Draco been asked in the recent past weather he trusted Snape,
he would have answered that he trusted him implicitly and
completely, but the hesitance in Snape's answer had him questioning
everything. This was such a crucial time. Misplaced trust could be
the deciding factor between victory and disaster. But if Draco
couldn't trust Snape then who in the name of the Gods could he
trust? The uncertainty cut him like a knife.

Snape had always been impossible to read. Draco quickly thought

back over the times he had been close to Snape, the times they had
talked privately. How much sense did Snape make?
Snape had been concerned about Draco in the early days, when he
learned of Draco's relationship with Voldemort. Draco had assumed
it was because he felt it was wrong, as many people would have
done. Wrong because of Draco's age, wrong because of the power
imbalance. Draco had assumed that Snape was uncomfortable
about it because he felt a fatherly protectiveness towards him. Then
there had been Snape's own, confusing desires thrown into the
equation too. Snape had been surprised when Draco had asked to
be taken to Voldemort when he was injured. He had been puzzled
but resigned to the situation when he healed Draco at Voldemort's
command after the night of Dumbledore's death. His confusion was
understandable. Draco had never given Snape the full picture after
all. It made sense that Snape had felt and behaved the way he had
in the early days, based on the information he had.

However, quite recently Snape had said something odd, Draco

remembered, when he had questioned Draco about why he and
Voldemort behaved the way they did. He had asked if they were
playing a game. The he had said 'perhaps these days we all are…'
Draco had given it no real thought at the time, but now the words
returned to him, he wondered just what game it was that Snape
thought he was playing. Was this one little comment actually very
important?

Draco thought quickly. He could not risk confiding in Snape while

there was any uncertainty.

'I have come back to see my friends.' Draco said impassively. It was
a feeble attempt.

'You seem rather emotional if that is all you came for.' Snape
scrutinised him. He could feel Draco no longer trusted him. Draco
had come here for a reason and now he was not prepared to divulge
it. What was it that Draco knew?

'I've missed you.' Draco tried hopefully, knowing he would have to do

a little better than he had just done in order to convince Snape.
'Some bad stuff has been happening.' He continued, his ability to lie
convincingly kicking in just in time. 'The Dark Lord killed several of
his followers this morning. They had betrayed him. I don't know
exactly what's happening, but I was worried about you.'

Snape was convinced by much of this. He had no reason not to be

as much of it was true, but still he felt the need to questioned Draco
further.

'You don't know what happened?' He asked. 'The word is going

round that you are his closest confidant these days.'

Draco wished for a moment that he and Voldemort had kept up the
slave act a little longer. He sighed.

'He doesn't tell me everything, Severus.'

Draco spoke sadly to give the impression that he was not as secure
with Voldemort as was actually the case. He concluded that if
Snape's loyalties were ambiguous, he might give more away to
Draco if he felt that Draco was somewhat unsteady too.

'I am glad you are ok, though. I feel much happier for knowing that.'
Draco added sounding very wholehearted and sincere.

Snape smiled. Draco was a sweet boy. He felt such a strong bond
with him. They were both caught in the middle of this conflict, both
trapped by their own lives. Snape wondered how different things
would be were they not facing this war. If there was no Voldemort
and no Potter, how would life be for him and Draco? He pictured a
friendship more than a love affair, but he did think that perhaps he
would have been Draco's first. Been a caring mentor to him, who
taught him the ways of the world and the ways of love as part of his
education, much like in the classical age. He pictured Draco as a
protégée and friend. He wished that this was how things were in
reality. He liked Draco's company and genuinely wanted Draco to be
happy.
'I am quite alright, Draco. Don't worry about me.' He replied, flattered
by Draco's concern.

Draco was relieved he had been satisfied by this answer and hoped
he could go now. Whatever was going on here with Snape, he had to
stick to his mission.

'I want to go and see Pansy and Blaise.' He smiled convincingly. 'I
haven't seen them for 2 weeks.'

'Very well Draco.' Snape smiled. He felt such an allegiance to Draco,

such a loyalty to this boy. Snape stroked Draco's face as he spoke.

Draco thought this was odd, but he smiled and hid his feelings well,
leaving the room with a caring lingering glance back at his professor.

The second Draco was outside the study however he flopped

against the wall, his heart hammering. Something in that strange
stifled exchange had changed the game, yet again. Draco couldn't
put his finger on it, but Snape was definitely hiding something. He
was not being honest. Snape had been Voldemort's spy for years,
convincing Dumbledore of his loyalty only to betray him in the end.
Draco froze with horror. What if he was doing the same to
Voldemort?

No. Why would he? Draco reasoned. Dumbledore was gone, what
would be the point? And these concerns must not detract from the
real reason he had come here after all. The horcrux. That was what
mattered now. It was part of Voldemort. It was the most important
thing in the world.

Draco ran. He had to get to the room of requirement. He had to find

the horcrux and get it to safety. He began to panic. The room of
requirement was huge and filled with everything that anyone at
Hogwarts had ever wanted to hide. Draco wished to the Gods he
had some help.
He rounded a corner and all of a sudden his wish was granted. He
ran straight into Pansy. She was the last person he had expected to
see, as it was after lights out, and Pansy was supposedly quite the
model student these days.

She gave a startled cry when she saw him and Draco noticed she
looked a little flushed. He also noticed the door of the room which
she had just stepped out of. 'Professor Amycus Carrow.' He had
no time to respond to this, but without thinking about it he
instinctively filed the knowledge away for later.

'Draco!' She gasped, and hugged him affectionately. 'I didn't know
you were back. When did you…'

He cut her off.

'Pansy, help me.' He whispered with exigency.

She read the urgency of the situation from his voice and leant in
close to answer.

'Of course.' She gasped. 'What can I do?'

'Come with me.' Draco answered and took hold of her hand and
began to run again.

She ran with him, keeping up easily, sporty and agile as she was,
her thick, black ponytail swishing as she ran.

'Where are we going?' She asked.

'Room of requirement.' He whispered.

Pansy felt an odd flutter of nostalgic nerves as she remembered a

time, third year or there abouts, when she would have given just
about anything to have her friend Draco Malfoy drag her off urgently
to the room of requirement! It seemed strange now. Draco was her
best friend, he could never be anything other than that. It made her
wonder how she had ever even wanted it to be more in the first
place. A misguided childish crush, she supposed. Pretty-boy Draco
was really quite the opposite of the type that she went for now a
days!

The door appeared for them and they ran inside. Draco had been
sure to visualise very clearly that they needed not to be disturbed, as
he had done when he was fixing the cabinet. The room, as always,
responded well to him.

Once safely inside they stopped running and had the chance to
catch their breath. Draco let go of Pansy's hand after holding it a little
longer than was necessary because it was comforting.

Pansy turned to face Draco. Her sweater was on inside out. Draco
wished for a moment that he was a normal boy with a normal life so
that he could have teased her and quizzed her about just how such a
thing could have come about… But there was no time for simple
pleasures like that.

'What's the matter Draco? What do you need me to do?' She asked
wholeheartedly.

Draco was deeply touched by her devotion to assisting him despite

how secretive he had been for so many months.

'Look, Pansy…' He began. 'I can't tell you everything now, but that's
because there's no time. I will tell you everything as soon as I can,
but now, I just need your help. Ok?'

'Ok.' Pansy agreed to the terms. 'What do I need to do?'

'I need you to help me find something that is hidden in this room.'
Draco told her. 'It's really, really important that we find it tonight.'

'Ok.' She said again, understanding the task. 'What are we looking
for?'
'A piece of Jewellery.' Draco told her. 'A tiara, to be precise. It's very
valuable, priceless in fact.'

'You have come to the right woman!' Pansy said determinedly.

Draco knew that. If there was anyone who could root out a piece of
priceless jewellery from a room full of chaos, it would be Pansy. Or
Narcissa perhaps.

'I've never seen it, but it looks like this.' Draco said, producing a
scrap of parchment from his pocket where Voldemort had sketched
the diadem for reference to help Draco find it.

Pansy studied it. It was fortunate that in all of her new found
studying, she had taken no particular interest in history of magic, she
did not recognise the diadem and had no idea just who it had
belonged to.

'OK.' She said calmly. 'So, it's in this room, for definite?'

'Yes.' Draco told her confidently.

'Right then.' She asserted. 'You start over there and I will start here.
We will search this line of furniture and when we meet in the middle
we will move across and begin again. Ok?' She was very
methodical.

Draco nodded and they began to search.

Draco had hoped he would somehow find the diadem instinctively,

that he would feel it, that it would somehow call to him. It had a piece
of Voldemort's soul inside it, surely it could feel him searching for it,
just like Voldemort could feel it when he spoke to Nagini? Nothing
happened immediately however and Draco felt a little disheartened.

'So…' Pansy began as she searched. 'Why do we have to find this

thing anyway? Can you tell me that at least?'
Draco nodded. He could tell her a little, he supposed. He was
desperate to talk to someone. He had imagined that someone would
be Snape, but now he was entirely unsure about that whole situation.

'Potter is looking for it.' Draco answered. 'It's a very powerful magical
object, it's important. Potter wants to destroy it and we need to make
sure he can't.'

Pansy stared at him, her eyes wide.

' He told you to find it, didn't he? Your lover?' She asked.

Draco nodded, wondering how much he could get away with saying.

'He told me it was here.' Draco answered. 'He told me where it was, I
suggested that I would get it for him. He really needs it if he is going
to be able to defeat Pott…' Draco stopped suddenly. He had said too
much.

Pansy stood stock still and stared at her friend.

'Who is he, Draco?' She asked slowly as if pieces of information

were falling into place in her mind. 'Why won't you tell me who he is?'

Draco stopped still too and stared back at her. He longed to tell
someone! In two and a half years, he had never actually told
anyone. He had never been able to say the words, to tell his news.
He had never been able to talk about it when he was frightened and
anxious, or to share his feelings when he was deliriously happy and
in love.

One word… 'Voldemort'… and he would have told someone…

'I really, really can't tell you that, Pansy.' He whispered, his words full
of regret. 'I know you've been worried about it, and I don't think
telling you would bring you any comfort… If you would even believe
me at all…'
He stopped talking. He had probably told her in a roundabout way
with that convoluted reply. She looked as though she were reaching
the frightening conclusion what was, in fact, the correct one.

Her eyes wide with horror, she shook her head slowly.

'Draco!… Please Gods, tell me it's not…'

He held up his hand to silence her.

'Don't!' He pleaded. 'Please, just help me. I will tell you everything as
soon as I can.'

Pansy stood still for a moment, considering the information she had.

Her best friend needed help to find something. He had come on

behalf of his lover, identity unknown to her, although she was
drawing some pretty scary conclusions right now. Draco seemed
frightened and finding this object was urgent. She did not know
whether Draco was in danger if he didn't find it. She did know that
Draco had told her in the past that he loved this lover of his, that it
was 'the real thing'…

The information swirled in her head. Draco was her friend. He

needed help. That was all that mattered.

'OK.' She said, returning to the search.

She moved over to the next part of the room and Draco felt an odd
sensation as she brushed passed a small table. It was as though
something in the room had been woken up by her movement. Now
he could feel it, could feel Voldemort close by!

'Pansy!' He cried. 'You are close to it, I'm sure!'

'What?' She asked. 'How do you know?'

'Just a feeling.' Draco answered rushing over. 'That table, there!'

Pansy turned round and placed her hand instantly on a brown
leather box. She opened it and gasped as the contents were
revealed.

The Diadem glistened like it had been polished only that day, it was
beautiful, exquisite, stunning.

'Oh!' She gasped. 'Draco! I found it!'

Draco was right at her side instantly. He had felt it the moment the
box was opened. It had felt like Voldemort was calling his name and
his whole body was tingling with delight.

'Oh thank the Gods!' Draco gasped. 'Thank you Pansy, thank you!'
He flung his arms around her.

'It's really beautiful.' She said, picking it up gently and raising it to her
forehead without thinking.

It was simply a childish gesture. She just wanted to try on the pretty
jewel, but the second she did, she swooned and cried out in pain. It
felt like needles had stuck into her head, and a hard, hissing voice
tore through her brain speaking words in a language she couldn't
understand.

Draco grabbed it from her instantly.

'It's magical! I told you!' He said, supporting her but making sure she
made no further contact with the diadem, which had no negative
effects on him. 'Are you alright?'

She nodded. She had foolishly forgotten that it was a magical object.
She should have known better. It was pretty, that was all. Recovering
she asked,

'What do we do now?'

'Now, we make a convincing fake.' Draco replied and he picked up a

broken rememberall from the floor. 'I will transfigure this…'
Pansy stopped him.

'I'll do it, Dray.' She insisted. 'I'm better at transfiguration than you,
the amount of school you have missed this year! I'm guessing this
fake has to last until Potter finds it, yes?'

Draco glowed with happiness. He could have kissed her.

'Thank you Pansy.' He whispered.

She transfigured a perfect fake, the stone an ever so slightly darker

shade of blue, but almost undetectable.

'There.' She said coolly. 'What happens now?'

'Now I have to take this one and put it somewhere safe.' Draco
replied as they hurried to the door and let themselves out. Draco
carried the diadem concealed under his clothing, close to his heart.

'Right.' Said Pansy. 'You have to leave Hogwarts again for that, I
assume?'

'Yes.' Draco answered. 'But I plan to come back straight away.' He

stopped and turned to her. 'You have helped me so much tonight
Pansy.'

'I just want you to be ok.' She whispered. Draco realised that maybe
she was frightened that there may have been consequences for him
if the diadem was not found.

'He's going to be really pleased that we found it, you know. I think he
thought I might not be able to find it. Like I said, it was me who
suggested I look for it, not him. He will be really glad about this!'
Draco exclaimed, and then paused.

He looked at Pansy, really looked at her.

She was one of his oldest friends, they had known each other for
years, they had played together as children. She was one of the few
approved friends his parents permitted him to socialise with, but had
been keen to distance them as they got older. Lucius and Narcissa
had harboured more ambitious marriage aspirations for their son
than Pansy Parkinson. However, she had remained close to him and
even though they had been somewhat distant from one another in
recent years, it still felt like only yesterday that they had been
inseparable. Draco longed to be able to properly confide in her.

'I want to tell you everything, Pansy.' He blurted out suddenly. 'I really
want to talk to you, to tell you all about everything that's been
happening… And to hear everything that you have been up to!' He
added with a smile.

Pansy blushed and grinned.

'I want to tell you!' She replied enthusiastically. 'Although I fear that
my escapades may be nothing in comparison to yours, Dray!' She
said, her tone serious once more.

It was Draco's turn to blush, and then his eyes filled up with tears.

'There's a war coming, Pansy.' He whispered. 'Potter is going to

come here. It will be here that it happens.' He whispered. 'Stay safe,
you and Blaise. Please, stay safe! When this is over…' He began but
a deep sob stopped him in his tracks.

Pansy was upon him right away, hugging him tightly, cupping the
back of his head in an almost motherly fashion.

'When all this is over.' She repeated calmly. 'It will be over, Dray. It
will be alright.' She wasn't sure of this, but reassuring Draco was her
priority. 'When all this is over, we'll talk properly. We'll catch up.' She
paused and smiled. 'We'll do lunch.'

Draco stepped back and smiled at her. She had always been strong
like this and he had always loved her for it.
'OK.' He said, a strange sort of manic happiness creeping over him.
'Maybe we could double date.' He grinned as Pansy's jaw dropped.

'Huh… yeah… OK.' She half laughed. 'That sounds fun!' She gave a
terrified and disbelieving smile, which Draco returned, echoing her
emotions exactly.

'I have to go.' He whispered and he flung his arms around her one
last time. 'Thank you!' He said again.

'Be careful Dray.' She whispered.

Draco nodded and smiled.

'Go!' She encouraged finally and Draco followed her command,

running back towards the staircase which would take him back to
Snape's office.

He ran as fast as he could, not quite sure exactly what would await
him when he got there.
Chapter 61
Draco burst into Snape's office without knocking. He was flushed
from running but hoped that he could simply make it to the fire place
and get away without any interaction with Snape at all. He felt that
he needed a bit longer to think about what might be going on with
Snape before he decided how to approach the situation.

However it seemed that Snape had been waiting for him. Draco
dashed into the back room and Snape rose from his chair. He stood,
his body language challenging and confrontational. He stood directly
in front of the fire place, blocking Draco's exit route!

Draco took a step backwards and pulled out his wand, well,
Voldemort's old white wand, as was his wand of choice these days.
He raised it in a defensive stance rather than an attacking one.

'Let me past.' He said gently.

Snape looked so deeply unhappy and said nothing.

'Severus… Professor… Please let me past.' Draco tried again.

Trying to reach him, as a teacher, as a friend.

'What have you got there, Draco?' Snape asked, his voice cold but
entirely devoid of his usual confidence.

'None of your concern.' Draco all of a sudden aggressive. He did not

know why, he did not know how, but for some reason the person he
trusted the most, besides Voldemort, was now a threat and was
trying to stop him completing his life and death mission.

'I can't let you leave, Draco. I can't let you take it.' Snape said
numbly.

Draco's jaw dropped. In his worst nightmares he had never imagined

a betrayal like this one.
'Why?' He asked, his question meaning several things at once. 'Why
have you betrayed me? Why won't you let me leave?'

Snape sighed, he looked as if he might cry.

'I'm sorry, Draco.' He replied.

'That's not an answer!' Draco cried, angry and hurt and frightened all
at once. 'You won't let me leave, you could at least tell me why!'

A tear ran down Snape cheek but he said nothing.

'Why are you doing this, Severus?' Draco said softly, his voice
shaking. 'Why are you betraying me, after everything we've been
through?'

Snape slouched like he had just been hit in the stomach, like the
question had knocked all the air out of him. He gasped and
swallowed hard before he answered.

'I'm not betraying you.' He whispered. 'It's complicated, it's very

complicated.'

'Is it?' Asked Draco. 'It doesn't feel complicated to me. I need to get
to Voldemort to protect him and you are stopping me. You are one of
his closest people, he trusts you.' Draco said.

'We are all his puppets, Draco!' Snape cried. 'Do you really think he
will value you once he has risen to power? Don't you think he will
discard you once you have served your purpose?'

'No.' Answered Draco clearly. 'Maybe I thought that once, but now I
know better. Don't you want him to succeed, Severus?' Draco felt so
confused by Snape's behaviour.

'I did once.' Snape replied, turning away from Draco, unable to look
at him, but still blocking the exit.

'And now?' Draco asked.

'Now it's more complicated than that.' Snape replied.

'Well tell me then.' Draco insisted. 'If you plan to stop me, the very
least you can do is tell me why.'

'He killed someone I loved.' Snape said coldly, still not looking at
Draco.

Draco remained silent.

'A girl I grew up with, we were best friends.'

In light of having just spent time with Pansy, this image conjured
evocative feelings for Draco. If someone had killed Pansy, Draco
would be devastated!

'What happened? Who was she?' He asked gently.

'Lily Evans.' Snape replied. Speaking her name out loud after all this
time still felt strange.

'Potter's mother!' Draco exclaimed. There were few in the wizarding

world who were not familiar with that name.

'Yes.' Snape answered almost inaudibly. 'I loved her, but she didn't
love me. I signed up with the death eaters, but when I learned that
she was marked for death, I went to Dumbledore for help.'

Draco nodded slowly.

'And did he help?' Draco asked. 'She still died, didn't she.'

Snape gave no answer.

'She died, and you stayed in Voldemort's service. Why?' Draco

pushed.

'I have tried to honour her memory by protecting her son.' Snape
answered stiffly.
'Protecting Potter?' Draco gasped, confused and offended by the
very suggestion. 'He's not just her son you know! He is James
Potters son as well, Severus! How exactly have you protected him?'

'Dumbledore said I should remain in the Dark Lord's service and act
as a spy for the Order.' Snape confessed. 'He said that way I would
protect Lily's son. That I would show my love for her.'

'Dumbledore said that?' Draco echoed, not quite believing what he

was hearing. 'So you asked for help to protect the woman you loved.
He didn't prevent her death, but insisted that you risk your life to
become a spy in order to honour her memory?'

Snape said nothing. He hung his head.

'You did it though, didn't you? You gave information to the order?'
Draco hissed, his anger beginning to rise and his sympathy
beginning to fall.

'The Dark Lord was keen that I remain in a teaching post at

Hogwarts and feed information back to him about the Order.' Snape
said, his voice numb. 'Over the years I have done both. Informed
both sides, to enough of an extent to convince each that I was loyal
to them.'

'But you murdered Dumbledore in the end.' Draco said.

'Dumbledore was dying. He was infected with a fatal curse when he

destroyed the…'

'Horcrux?' Draco offered.

Snape nodded and Draco felt a surge of satisfaction that destroying

the horcrux had lead Dumbledore to his death.

'I killed him because I didn't want you to do it.' Snape said, turning to
face Draco once more. 'Dumbledore suspected you would try to kill
him. He knew about you and the Dark Lord. He was going to die
anyway and so it made very little difference to him who did it.' Snape
stopped.

Draco felt his lip trembling.

'You killed him so that I didn't have to kill?' He asked in a whisper.

'I have killed before, Draco. I don't think you are a killer, I don't want
you to become one. I was horrified when I found out what the Dark
Lord was doing to you, Draco, really horrified. You were so young,
you didn't deserve to have to cope with that. Now he has you
working for him too… I just wish I could have helped you.'

'Severus…' Draco began, his wand lowering slightly. 'I'm not

'working' for him. He has never given me orders and he has always
insisted that I don't fight. Anything that I do, I do of my own free will,
because I have decided to do it, not because I have been forced to.
Even being his lover…'

Snape flinched, but Draco continued.

'Even then, I can leave if I want to. I told you, I know what I'm doing. I
know my own mind, no one is forcing me to do anything. What about
you, Severus? Can you say the same?'

Snape sighed deeply.

'I don't know.' He whispered.

'You must have joined the death eaters for a reason?' Draco
prompted. 'You must have believe in it once?'

'My father was a muggle.' Snape confessed. 'He beat my mother and
me, all the time. He hated us because we had powers he didn't
have. But even with those powers we never turned on him, we just
took beating after beating from him.' Snapes eyes narrowed with
anger.
'Gods, Severus!' Draco exclaimed. 'Then you know, right? You know
what muggles are? They are animals, worse than animals!'

'I believe your father has behaved similarly, and your family have
been pure blood since 1668.' Snape replied.

'1542.' Draco corrected. 'And my father has never raised a hand to

my mother.'

'He has to you though.'

'Only because he loves me.' Draco answered. Afterwards Snape

wondered if this was in fact the saddest part of the whole
conversation. 'He just wanted me to behave, wanted the best for me.
He just had a poor of showing it.' Draco justified.

Snape sighed.

'We are not talking about me, though.' Draco asserted. 'We are
talking about your muggle father beating you and your mother
because he was scared of you both.'

'He left us in the end.' Snape confided. 'It was that that broke my
mother's heart. She loved him. For some reason. She loved him
even though he didn't love her.'

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow.

'Like you love a woman who didn't love you and married someone
you hated?' He asked.

'That's different!' Snape snapped. 'Lily didn't deserve to die!'

'I'm sure she didn't.' Draco said diplomatically. 'But you and I both
know that these things will keep on happening until the muggle issue
is bought under control. The world needs a leader who is prepared to
take the necessary action. Voldemort's regime is the way forward. I
think you know that.' Draco paused. 'That's what I believe anyway. I
love him, Severus and I will do anything I can to help him succeed.'
Snape took a moment to think about this. He remained silent.

'It seems to me like Dumbledore used you. He didn't help you really,
and then he used you. Maybe Voldemort has done too, I don't know.'
Draco whispered gently. He stepped towards Snape and lightly
touched his arm. 'What is it that you want, Severus? Who is it that
you want to be loyal to?'

'You.' Snape whispered.

Draco's heart skipped a beat.

'You know where my loyalties lie.' He whispered back.

'And mine lie with you.' Snape confirmed. 'It may be wrong in light of
all that has happened between us, but you are the closest thing I
have ever had to a friend, the closest thing I have ever had to a son.
And you may be the only person I know of who is acting with true
integrity to themselves in all of this horrible mess…' He paused and
Draco looked at him searchingly.

'Severus…' Draco began, but Snape cut him off.

'Is there a future where we can be close, Draco? Where we can be

friends?' He asked anxiously. 'Can you forgive me for the things I
have just told you?'

'Of course I can.' Draco gasped. 'You saved my life, you have always
been there for me. We are friends already. I hope we always will be.'

'Go!' Snape said suddenly. 'Go now. Dumbledore's portrait watches

these rooms. Go before he finds out what has occurred here.'

'That's who you were talking to!' Draco exclaimed.

'Yes.' Snape confessed. 'Go. Do what you need to do. I will tell no
one that I have seen you.'
'Potter is coming.' Draco warned. 'He's coming here. It's going to
happen, Severus. Stay safe.'

Snape kissed Draco on the forehead.

'You stay safe Draco.' He whispered. 'Now go.'

Draco nodded and vanished at last into the fire place like a thief in
the night.
Chapter 62
Draco apparated from the fire place at the manor directly to his own
room. He needed to be alone. His heart was racing and his blood
pumping round his body, fuelled with adrenalin, powered by just
about every emotion he could name.

He was overjoyed that he had managed to rescue the horcrux of

course, and he cradled it in his arms like it was a living thing. Well…
it was really, wasn't it? However now he was a little bit terrified about
just what exactly he was going to do with it. He didn't have secure
secret places like a vault of his own at Gringotts, as the family
fortune was all held together. Draco was sure that there were many
secret places in the manor where he could hide things, he could ask
his father, he was bound to know… But Draco wanted to tell as few
people as possible about this. The more people who knew that he
had the horcrux, the greater the risk.

He was frightened half to death about the impending war. Seeing

Pansy had reminded him vividly that it wasn't just Voldemort he
loved and wanted to keep safe. Draco loved his friends too, he so
wanted them to be safe. All of them, Pansy, Blaise, Gregory, Vincent,
Theodore… Severus.

Snape. Draco couldn't even begin to comprehend how he felt about

Snape right now. Snape had betrayed Voldemort and had been on
the verge of doing so again. But he had let Draco go, and had
agreed to keep Draco's visit a secret. He had been a double agent
for all those years! Betraying everyone. Betraying himself. Through
his anger and hurt, Draco felt a pang of sympathy. Snape had had
such a horrid time growing up and had then lost the person who had
been his only support. 'The thing is, he lost her when she married
James Potter, not when she was killed…' Draco mused. 'It must
have been hard for him though, and Dumbledore took advantage of
him…' Draco thought how lonely and confused Snape must have
been all these years, not sure what he wanted and who he really
believed in. Draco felt a violent stab of guilt as he remembered the
night he and Voldemort had 'played' with Snape, and the time Snape
had offered him help and he had been so aggressive towards him.
'It's amazing that he still feels any loyalty to me at all…' Draco
thought. 'I probably don't deserve it!'

Was Snape really going to be loyal though? He had a track record,

didn't he? Draco felt a flutter of anxiety seize him. Should he tell
Voldemort? Voldemort would probably kill Snape if he knew. Draco
felt conflicted. He loved Voldemort so very much, but really, really
didn't want Snape to be killed. He didn't want to keep things from his
lover, but he decided that maybe he would keep secret what had
happened between him and Severus that evening. Snape had
always fought Draco's corner in one way or another. Draco would not
mention it. He would not do anything about it. Unless he had to.
Trust had to be earned and rebuilt. Draco would watch Snape
closely and however much he cared about Snape, he would deal
with him, if he had to!

Would Snape tell anyone that Draco had taken something though?
Snape probably knew what it was that he had taken too… But he
had betrayed the Order in a big way by letting Draco take it. He had
not even attempted to ask Draco where he was going with it. He had
probably assumed that Draco had bigger and better plans about
hiding it somewhere than he actually did. He had no plans
whatsoever!

What could he do with it? Draco suddenly felt incredibly stupid. What
on earth had he ever thought he was going to be able to do with it? It
was an ancient and enormously valuable magical artefact which just
so happened to also contain a fragment of the soul of the most
powerful dark wizard who ever lived. Draco felt a little out of his
depth. He was just a 17 year old schoolboy, a silly kid who had no
idea what to do with the responsibility he found himself facing.

Draco thought hard. Where could he hide something like this?

Somewhere that only he knew about, somewhere that he wouldn't
have to ask his father or mother about…
A crazy thought came to him and he slipped down off his bed and
crouched on the floor. He had hidden things before. Secret things,
precious things… it was so long ago he had almost forgotten.

It had been easier, years ago to slip under the bed. Now that he was
nearly 18, it was a lot more difficult to fit and he had to lay down flat
and wriggle under on his stomach. Once underneath however, there
was a little more space and he easily located the lose floorboard and
prised it up with his fingers.

The gap beneath the floorboard was dusty, very dusty, and dark too.
Draco conjured the faintest lumos charm to allow him to see into the
space before he put his hand inside, in case there was a spider
down there. It was safe however and he reaching in and over to the
right, his fingers finding the old tin box and gripping it tightly.

He pulled it out of the hole and placed it before him. It was years
since he had looked in here! He felt all of his childhood nerves return
as he began to open it, remembering that all of his naughtiest
secrets were contained within.

Lifting the lid, Draco felt a surge of adrenalin as he cast his eyes
over the illicit objects that were hidden inside.

There was a little black toy car, he didn't know what type it was, cars
were muggle things, not for the likes of him! That had been the
appeal of it really, that, and it was black and sleek and shiny. Draco
had stolen it from a muggle toy shop when they had been on holiday
when he was six. He had not been proficient in magic back then and
had stolen in the muggle way, cupping it in his hand and slowly
sneaking it into his coat pocket. He remembered the thrill, the
excitement and the gratifying feeling of having managed to get this
lovely object to safety. He would look after it now, he would keep it
safe.

There was half a packet of peppermint cigarettes. He had put them

in when he was about ten. That was possibly the last time he had put
anything in this little box. There were chocolate frog collectors cards
too. His favourites, which he had kept hidden away because they
had given him confusing feelings as a child. Herpo the Foul, Morgan
le Fay and Salazar Slytherin among them.

There was a strange muggle toy he had stolen from a boy he had
met one summer, when he was about nine years old. It was a grey
rectangular box with a greenish square and some buttons on it. The
boy he stole it from was regularly engrossed by it, staring at the
square and pressing the buttons frantically. Draco remembered that
when he first took it, the green square had little markings that moved
and did different things when he pressed the various buttons, but by
the time he had figured out how to control it, it had stopped working
all together. As Draco had no idea what sorcery had powered it in
the first place, he was never able to make it work again. He kept it
anyway.

There was a dark green ribbon tied in a bow which was attached to a
hair clip. This had been Pansy's. Draco had stolen this when he was
7 because he liked to clip it into his own hair sometimes. It looked
nicer on his white hair than it did on Pansy's black hair anyway.
Draco blushed a little as he thought back, realising what a little
kleptomaniac he had been.

Now he was adding a valuable magical diadem to his box of stolen

treasures. Lovingly, he placed the diadem in beside the other
cherished items and closed the lid, bidding it goodnight silently.

Now more competent at magic than he had been at 10 years old,

Draco cast wards over the box and over the floor boards, so that he
would know instantly if they were disturbed. He wriggled out from
under the bed.

He sighed deeply. He didn't know what to do now. He still felt the

overwhelming need to be alone. To just take some time to collect his
thoughts. The only other option was to go to Voldemort, but he
thought it was better if he stayed away tonight. If he went there
tonight, Voldemort would want to know if he had retrieved the
Diadem so quickly. If he had retrieved it so quickly, logically there
were limited places he could have hidden it. If he stayed away a
while, he could have travelled further to hide it. If he waited until
tomorrow to see Voldemort it seemed to broaden the scope of places
he may have taken it to. Logically it seemed wise to stay at home
tonight.

He began to undress and he threw back the covers on his own little
bed. Folded up on the clean crisp sheets were his pyjamas, ready
and waiting for him. Draco couldn't remember the last time he had
actually bothered to wear pyjamas. He slept, these days in his
underwear, or naked, which he knew his mother would consider
slatternly and inappropriate. Tonight he put on his pyjamas. He went
down stairs and bid his parents good night, careful not to stay long
enough to give them the chance to ask him any questions. He crept
upstairs and slipped between the sheets, snuggling down under his
blankets as if he were just any other normal 17 year old boy with a
packet of cigarettes and a piece of the Dark Lord's soul hidden under
his bed.

Snape was true to his word. He mentioned to no one that Draco had
visited the castle that night. When Dumbledore's portrait returned to
talk to him, to inform him that Harry was on his way to Hogwarts to
search for a horcrux, Snape received the information as if he had no
prior knowledge of it. He listened to another dogmatic speech about
helping Potter, about the boy who lived… About how Potter's
heroism and love would be what saved the day…

Snape found his own heart aligning even more to the icy blond rich
boy anti-hero, who's capacity to love, even in the darkest of places,
outstripped that of anyone he knew. Draco may not have lost his
parents and he certainly grew up with every material luxury, but all
his life he had been belittled and chastised. When he came to
Hogwarts he, and everyone else, lived in the shadow of the great
Potter. Nothing Draco could have done would have ever meant that
he came top of the class or that Slytherin won the house cup. Draco
was not able to shine at school and this in turn earned him contempt
at home. Potter was the star and the beacon for friendship and love.
Yet it was Draco, Snape thought, who had done the impossible. He
loved the unlovable and earned love in return from someone who the
whole world considered 'could not love'. The Dark Lord 'loved' Draco
Malfoy, to the extent that he extended benevolence to others where
it would please Draco.

The death eaters were quick enough to spread gossip, and Snape
had heard about the revelations of the ownership of the Elder wand.
He knew Draco had effectively saved his life because he loved him
as a friend, and Voldemort loved Draco enough to have listened to
him.

Potter was hope for those who saw black and white, good and evil.
He was hope for the bull headed Griffindors who liked their heroes
and villains to pick a sides and stay there. Brave heroes who
vanquished their enemies and won the battle in a blaze of glory.
Those with courage and confidence.

Draco was hope for those who were frightened and confused. Those
for whom good and evil had never been so clear cut and black and
white. He was a hero for those who sometimes did not feel brave
and certainly weren't confident. Draco stood for those who struggled
to know exactly what love should actually look like, but who used
their brains and followed their bruised hearts down dangerous paths.
Those who, in the end had learned enough to know that they stood
for something real. They stood for the love they had found in the
dark places they had strayed into, and were prepared to stand by it
even if it didn't look like the love they had read about in fairy tales.
Snape knew who he supported. He knew who he could relate to.

Pansy had really wanted Draco to come back than night, but wasn't
overly surprised when he didn't. She had changed into her
nightclothes, wrapped a dressing gown tightly around her and crept
into the boys dormitory hoping to see him.

It was late and everyone was asleep, which was fortunate as she
was not in the mood for cat calls or innuendos from Crabbe or Goyle.
They were only ever playful and usually she laughed along with
them, giving as good as she got, if not better, as she was smarter
than both of them put together. Tonight, she was not in a jovial mood
though and thought she would probably just hex anyone who spoke
to her.

She sat on Draco's bed and worried about him. By midnight she
reached the conclusion that he definitely wasn't coming back that
night. She pulled the curtains around the bed. Where was he? Had
he gone to his lover, had he gone to 'him'? What was it like for him,
she wondered. Did he talk to him? Did they lay in bad afterwards and
talk about nonsense, like other people do? How had it come about?
Was Draco happy? He said he was.

She wished he was here to talk to her, to tell her all about it. They
could hide under the blankets with cookies and whisper their secrets,
just like they had done when they were children. Pansy missed those
days. A feisty, independent creature, she seemed to have been born
wanting to be a grown up, she was not usually one for looking back
wistfully at her childhood. But with war looming, her best friend very
much caught up and in the firing line, she felt an odd longing for
simpler times. When secrets were about less scary things like
stealing a cake that was meant for guests that evening, or having
peeked in at your older cousin with his girlfriend…

At 1.30 she felt so tired she slipped beneath the covers and pulled
them tightly around herself, deciding to sleep here. It would freak the
boys out in the morning, but it was worth staying in the remote hope
that Draco would come back in the small hours. He didn't of course,
and Pansy awoke before anyone else and slipped back to her own
dormitory.
Chapter 63
Draco slept late the next morning, much later than he had hoped to.
It was 11.30 before he woke. He was instantly angry with himself
when he saw the time. He dressed hurriedly and ran downstairs.

'Mother! Father!' He called loudly in the hallway.

Lucius and Narcissa were in the drawing room and they hurried out
to meet him.

'What is it Darling?' Narcissa asked anxiously. Draco had not actually

called them for as long as she could remember. It saddened her that
he was usually reluctant to be in their company and generally
avoided long conversations.

'Potter is going to Hogwarts.' Draco told them directly. 'He may even
get there today. There is going to be a battle. Voldemort will need to
begin to rally his followers. You will need to be ready.'

Both his parents jumped when he used the Dark Lord's name so
freely, but Narcissa also noticed that Draco trembled slightly as he
had said 'You will need to be ready.'

Lucius sighed deeply.

'The Dark Lord's following is extensive. Potter and his friends will be
grossly outnumbered.'

Draco was unsure whether his father was saying this simply to make
him feel happier or whether he really knew this to be true.

'Draco, does the Dark Lord intend you to fight for him?' Lucius asked
nervously, unsure how to ask, if he should ask and if Draco would
even know the answer.

'I think he will try to insist I don't.' Draco replied.

'Well, I agree with him then!' Narcissa exclaimed. 'If he tells you to
stay behind Draco you will have to. You have to do what he tells you
to do!'

'No I don't.' Draco answered flatly and both of his parents looked
shocked as they realised that Draco did not, and possibly never did,
follow orders from the Dark Lord.

'Draco, please, don't fight if you don't have to!' Narcissa pleaded and
Lucius nodded in agreement.

With a deep sigh Draco looked at both of them. He would have to tell
them exactly what he planned to tell Voldemort if he decided to be
difficult too.

'I love him.' Draco said coolly and calmly, aware that hearing this
might shock his parents. 'I love him very much and I am going to be
by his side. If one of you were fighting a battle, I'm sure the other
would insist on being there…?' Draco posed the concept.

Neither could deny it.

'We will all be there.' Draco said confidently. 'I am scared, I'm really
scared, but we are all in this together, the whole family. We stand
together.'

Draco didn't know which one of them instigated it, but they all pulled
together into a sort of group hug. He buried his face between his
mother and father, feeling oddly childlike for someone who had just
insisted that he be allowed to fight in a war and confessed to loving
an older man. Narcissa hugged her precious son and thought just
how much he had grown up, and how it had happened in all of the
wrong ways. Yet here he was, just as lovely as he had been as a
little child, and it was him who was uniting them as a family. Lucius
held on to his two most precious people in the world and wished to
the Gods that he had been able to protect them from danger.
This surreal hug seemed to last forever. None of them were sure if
they wanted it to end, as none of them could be sure when, or if, this
chance would come again.

It was early afternoon when Draco went to Voldemort. Voldemort had

spent the morning in liaison with his followers who were placed
within the ministry, briefing them on what was to happen. He also
spoke to his most trusted fighters and instructed them on leading the
battle when the hour arrived.

Draco came to the house via the port key. This way he knew that
Voldemort was alone before he got there. He needed to see him
alone. Part of him was wishing that he had gone there the night
before. If the battle came today, who knew what would happen? Who
knew when they would get the chance to be together again…? It
didn't bare thinking about.

They stood opposite one another, beside the bed, both a little unsure
of what to say. And so in the absence of words they began to
undress one another.

It was slow and gentle. It was passionate and all consuming. They
both threw all of their deepest love and desire for one another into
this union, both too scared to admit they were afraid that this might
be the last time.

They lay together afterwards and sunlight streamed in through the

gaps in the curtains. It was a beautiful sunny day. Draco thought that
was all wrong really. Battles and bad things don't happen on sunny
days, it doesn't feel right. He supposed it would happen after dark.

Voldemort was lost in thought. Lost in Draco's grey eyes. He mused

over how things had come to be this way. It was not what he had
intended in the beginning, he could not have foreseen this.

'Do you remember the first time, Draco?' Voldemort asked, as he

looked down at him affectionately.
'I remember every time.' Draco smiled up at him.

Voldemort sighed.

'I'm sorry, you know. About the first time.' He paused. 'I was so rough
with you.'

Draco smiled again.

'You know I like it when you're rough with me.'

Voldemort smiled and stroked Draco's hair.

'I know.' He admitted. 'But the first time, I should have been more
gentle.'

'I seem to remember you took good care of me.' Draco replied.

'I frightened you though.' Voldemort said. 'It should never have been
like that. Not the first time.'

'I still wanted you though!' Draco assured. 'I was bound to be scared,
it was my first time… You were frightening. You were frighteningly
good!' Draco said with a playful smile.

Voldemort kissed him. Draco was far too kind.

'I remember the time in the shrieking shack too!' Said Draco with a
grin.

'So do I!' Voldemort said. 'I remember you got ridiculously drunk!'

'I might have been a little bit tipsy, yes…' Draco laughed. 'I wasn't a
great drinker back then though. I was only 15.'

'You were only 15?' Voldemort echoed, a little horrified. 'How old are
you now, Draco? Why had he never asked Draco this before? Why
hadn't he realised that Draco was only 15? He must have known
this… Yes… Draco had told him once. He hadn't even thought about
it at the time, but now, all of a sudden it seemed obscene.

'I'm 17 now.' Draco answered him. 'I'll be 18 in a month. How old are
you?' Draco asked.

Voldemort looked mortified.

'I'm old, Draco. Really, really old.'

Draco laughed playfully and climbed on top of his lover and began to
kiss his neck.

'Really, really old, you say?' He teased, caressing him, his kisses
becoming deeper. Voldemort held onto his slender hips and Draco
ground himself against him.

'Yes. I'm afraid so.' Voldemort breathed as Draco poured over him,
lustfully. However self conscious Voldemort felt, he was also feeling
aroused once more by Draco's adorations.

'Tell me..?' Draco whispered between kisses.

'71.' Voldemort answered him.

It was enough to shock Draco for a moment at least. He stopped still.

'71! He wasn't kidding about really, really old!' Draco thought. But he
supposed that age didn't really have the same impact if you have
made horcruxes. Voldemort looked anxious. Was Draco going to be
ok about that?

'Well…' Said Draco with a sultry smile. '71? I'm quite impressed!'

'Oh?' Voldemort replied.

'Sure.' Draco drawled. 'There can't be many 71 year olds with such
impressive… stamina!' He glanced down at Voldemort's cock which
was half hard again.
Voldemort smiled. Of course Draco didn't mind about things like age.
Of course it didn't matter. If you looked at it on paper it might matter,
but somehow, when it was the two of them, it just didn't even factor
at all.

'Take me in the shower?' Draco asked. 'We did that the first time I
was here too.'

Voldemort obliged, wanting as much as Draco did, to relive every

precious memory they had, that afternoon.

By 4pm they could avoid it no longer. Showered and clean, they

dressed each other with the same dedication and care with which
they had undressed each other hours before. There were still words
that were unsaid. Words they didn't want to say, but words they had
to say. Words they could put off no longer.

'If it goes wrong out there…' Voldemort began.

'Don't!' Draco cried, tears instantly filling his eyes.

Voldemort kissed him and held onto both of his hands.

'No, Draco, listen.' He continued. 'If it all goes wrong out there. If I
die…'

Draco sobbed and flinched visibly but tried his best to control himself
and keep listening.

'If that happens and they arrest you, tell them I forced you. Tell them
you had no choice, that I made you do everything against your will.
You were so young, they would believe you.'

Draco could not quite believe what he was hearing.

'Why would I do that?' He gasped. 'I would never do that!'

'I don't want you to spend your life in Azkaban should the worst
happen, my love.' Voldemort said softly. 'You are good at
Occulmency, you could convince them. You could have a normal
life.'

'I don't want a normal life.' Draco replied, his voice ringing with the
same calm insistence that had been there when he spoke to his
parents that morning. 'I don't want any life without you in it. Don't you
understand? If something happens to you, I don't care what happens
to me.'

Voldemort sighed. There was little point arguing with Draco.

'Well you will just have to stay here and wait for me to come back
victorious.' Voldemort said.

It was Draco's turn to sigh. He had rather suspected that Voldemort

would say something like that.

'When are you going to realise that I'm not going to let you do this
alone?' Draco asked calmly. 'My family and I will be there. You
cannot make me stay away. I will be there for you. I support you. I
believe in you. I love you.'

He could have insisted that Draco stayed away, could have told him
he didn't want to be worrying about his safety when he needed to
focus on the battle. He could have pointed out that he had more than
enough followers, more than enough experienced fighters to support
him… But deep down, in a selfish place, Voldemort was glad that
Draco would be there for him. Even if the worst happened. If he died,
it would be Draco's face he would look for in the crowd as his vision
faded…

There was a loud knocking at the great old doors of the house. The
death eaters were arriving.

'Go to your parents, love.' Voldemort said to Draco. 'I'll see you
when…'

'All this is over.' Draco finished the sentence for him.

Voldemort kissed him.

'Yes.' He whispered.

Draco wanted to be brave. He did not want to say it, it was selfish of
him, but the words spilled from his lips before he could stop them…

'I'm scared.' He whispered.

'So am I.' Voldemort whispered back.

Draco somehow felt braver for hearing this.

'I love you.' He said sincerely.

'I love you.' Voldemort replied.

They kissed, passionately, meaningfully and deeply. Draco departed

without saying another word just in case they were killed. That way 'I
love you' would be the last words they spoke to each other.
Chapter 64
It was after dark that it happened. Potter had been spotted in
Hogsmede, he had accessed the school and confronted Snape. It
was a moment of happiness for Draco when Snape joined them,
after being attacked by McGonagall and fleeing the castle. Snape
had made his decision and come to them. Perhaps he was true to
his word about his loyalties. It was a fleeting moment of happiness
though as Draco was frightened when Snape told the Dark Lord that
Potter was not simply supported by his school friends, but by the
remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, ex Aurors, very
accomplished fighters.

'Ha! They are still no match for all of us!' Bellatrix cried triumphantly
and many of the crowd that had assembled on the hillside cheered in
agreement.

Voldemort mused silently that it would surely be her confidence and

bloodlust that got her killed one day, but he said nothing. Her cheers
were what the crowd needed. Despite the favourable odds, everyone
was scared. There may be fewer of the opposition and many of them
were children, but Potter himself was something of an unknown
quantity. This made people nervous.

Draco watched as the people inside Hogwarts cast spells to ward the
castle from attack. It looked oddly beautiful, he thought, as the spells
joined together. Iridescent ribbons of magic connecting in the air,
making a net of light. It wasn't beautiful though, he reminded himself.
It was a sign of all the stupid and misguided people who were
prepared to protect Potter. Draco scowled and pushed the 'beautiful'
thoughts from his mind.

The atmosphere on the hillside prickled with anticipation as they

awaited their orders. Draco stood beside his parents. Voldemort had
been keen to encourage this as he knew full well that Draco's
parents were not fighters. By insisting that Draco stay with them he
could be certain that Draco would be away from the forefront of the
action, but still near enough that he was 'with' Voldemort.

Inside the castle the students and the staff had heard the voice of
the Dark Lord proposing a deal…

'Hand over Potter and there will be no violence.. .'

Pansy recognised the voice straight away. It was the voice she had
heard when she had held the diadem to her head. Only now it was
speaking words she could understand. This was him. This was the
voice of the Dark Lord. The most powerful dark wizard who ever
lived. Draco's lover. At that very moment, her best friend Draco
would be poised ready to risk his life and fight if he had to. And all
because of one insignificant individual. So many lives could be
spared if it wasn't Potter…

'Hand him over!' She pleaded. Could no one else see that this made
sense? Surely they would see that it was ridiculous to risk
everyone's lives just to protect Potter? Why could no one else see
this?

All her suggestion earned her was the threat of being locked in the
dungeons. She felt sick. She did not want to fight, not really,
although she was argumentative, she was not a fighter in this sense.
She did not want Draco to have to fight either. She certainly did not
want the Dark Lord to think that protecting Potter had been a
unanimous decision!

Voldemort thought it had been rather too much to hope for, that
Potter would be handed over just like that. It had been worth a try. If
nothing else Potter might have been noble and handed himself over
to protect his friends.

'My Lord…?' Draco said softly.

Voldemort approached him and stood close. Many of the crowd

would have loved to hear what the boy said to the Dark Lord, if only
out of curiosity, but Voldemort did not want Draco's words to be
overheard. Draco whispered.

'He still thinks the horcrux is at Hogwarts. He will look for it before he
comes to face you, I expect.'

This was the first time Draco had mentioned the horcrux since the
previous evening when he went to Hogwarts to search for it.
Voldemort had not asked him as the whole point was that he didn't
know where it was, so that Potter couldn't read his mind to find it. But
Draco's words had confirmed that it was no longer there. Potter was
on a wild goose chase, he was looking for something that was not
there. Now was the time to strike.

Voldemort nodded, smiled at Draco, and then gave the command to

attack.

Jet after jet of light shot from the wands of the death eaters and flew
like fireworks towards the shield around the castle. There were so
many of them, it was really only a matter of time before they broke
through.

Once the shield fell, they rushed forward. They were fairly well
coordinated, having good knowledge of the site and a pre arranged
plan. Some apparated in, some ran in, via the various entrances. It
was assumed that the enemy might attempt to destroy the bridge, as
a defence tactic. All it would do in the long run was cut off the
escape route for the children who could not yet apparate.

Voldemort had been correct, Draco's parents had not been keen to
rush forward. They had approached the castle hesitantly. Draco, at
their side, felt confused and frightened by the crowds of people
rushing all around him. He found it difficult to follow exactly what was
happening. It was like the night that Dumbledore had been killed
when the death eaters attacked the castle, only worse. Spells were
flying everywhere and Draco worried that he couldn't even think fast
enough to keep up.
Maybe he should have stayed behind? Maybe he really was no good
for this sort of thing? Perhaps he was a liability? Was there anything
he could do to actually help?

He watched Bellatrix and Grayback, who he noticed were working

somewhat closely these days, watched them attacking, striking,
wiping out members of the opposition like they were born to do it.

Draco felt foolish. He should not have come. He was an idiot. He

began to panic. Hell, he couldn't even hid a horcrux properly! What
kind of idiot hides something so important under their bed? If
Voldemort was defeated and Draco flung into Azkaban, what were
the chances of the manor not being searched immediately? And
even if he escaped arrest, how could he use the horcrux to bring
Voldemort back? Voldemort hadn't told him that. Maybe he had
assumed that Draco would have had the sense to have looked into
that himself? Draco felt dreadful.

He felt dreadful because he felt useless, but also because now, in

such close proximity to Potter, he was very aware again of each time
Potter cast spells with his wand. Maybe that's what he could do! He
could try to get the wand back!

Yes! That is how he could help. He would recover his wand and
them Potter would have to use someone else's. A different wand,
one he was not used to, would at least put him at a greater
disadvantage.

But Draco had been told to stay with his parents… He knew he
should not face up to Potter alone, but he mother and father certainly
didn't fight enthusiastically… Perhaps there was a compromise? He
could find some back up. He would not face Potter alone. He would
take people with him, but not his parents. That way, he was not
going off into the battle on his own, but he wasn't stuck with his
parents, who may support the Dark Lord, but who lacked the passion
and commitment that other people had!
Students were running, screaming, everywhere… At last he saw
them! Pansy and Blaise! Pansy shrieked when she caught sight of
him and they ran over. Draco grabbed hold of both of them and
apparated with them to the 4th floor corridor.

'Help me again?' Draco asked breathlessly, looking at Pansy as he

spoke.

'Of course we will!' It was Blaise who replied. 'What do you need,
man?'

'Potter stole my wand.' Draco replied. 'I want to get it back from him.'

'Sure, OK.' Said Blaise. 'We'll sort him out!' He patted Draco
affectionately on the shoulder, which prompted Draco to pull him into
a proper hug. It was a long time since they had seen each other.

'Woah, easy there!' Blaise laughed, hugging him back just as

enthusiastically. 'I don't wanna get into trouble with anyone!'

Draco looked accusingly at Pansy.

'What?' She snapped. 'I didn't say anything! Just that the person you
are seeing is pretty powerful and high up!'

'Yeah. She wouldn't name names.' Blaise confirmed. 'But I don't want
to be crucioed for being caught in some kind of passionate embrace
with you… No offence!'

Draco laughed, which was funny because he had actually forgotten

that he could laugh he was so anxious.

'I'm allowed to hug my friends.' He confirmed. 'Anyway, you're going

to help me aren't you?'

'Of course.' Blaise smiled. 'Where is he then? We'll get him!'

'He'll come to the room of requirement.' Draco answered confidently.

'Of course!' Said Pansy, the pieces fitting together. 'He told
McGonagall he needed time. He's looking for it, isn't he?'

Draco nodded and Blaise looked confused.

'Last night Pansy helped me find something that Potter wants. He

thinks it's still there but we took it.' Draco answered.

'And replaced it with a fake!' Pansy beamed.

Draco nodded again. 'We'll explain it all later. Come on!'

With that they ran to the door of the room of requirement. Draco
concentrated hard… 'Door… don't appear. We need to come in, but
not until Potter is in…'

They hid in an alcove and waited, barely daring to breathe too loudly,
never mind talk.

After a short time a familiar, scruffy figure was seen running down
the corridor, with a familiar wand in his hand. Even though the
corridor was not well lit, it was clear that this figure was Potter. The
door began to appear and Potter disappeared inside.

'Come on!' Pansy whispered and the three of them followed Potter
into the room.

Pansy was delighted to see that he had the fake diadem in his hand,
and had a look on his face like he thought he had succeeded at
something. She and Blaise stood slightly in front of Draco, wanting to
protect him. Potter had attacked Draco in the past and nearly killed
him, he clearly hated Draco the most!

Draco's heart hammered at the inside of his ribcage. There was

Potter, right in front of him!

Harry spun round on hearing other people enter the room. His heart
pounded inside his chest, because, there was Draco! Right in front of
him!
'That's my wand you're holding Potter!' Draco said crossly,
impressed he was able to speak at all with all the adrenalin rushing
through his body.

There were so many thing Harry wanted to say. If only Draco was
alone and not with these others! Then he could say them, he could
say them all! As it was he settled for:

'Why didn't you tell them?' His voice, he thought, sounded thin and
raspy. Why couldn't it just sound nice and normal in front of Draco,
just this once?

'What?' Asked Draco, unsure what Potter was ranting on about.

'At the manor, you knew it was me. Why didn't you tell them?'

There wasn't time for this nonsense now!

'Give me my wand, Potter!' Draco hissed.

'What's wrong with the one you have?' Harry asked, trying to get a
good look at it. It was white, that was all he could see.

'It's my mother's.' Draco lied. 'It's powerful, but it's not the same. It
doesn't quite understand me.'

If Potter was ever going to give any kind of sensible answer, it was
drowned out by the arrival of Weasley and the mudblood, who burst
noisily into the room.

Pansy panicked and shot a curse at them which caused Potter to

drop the fake diadem and the other two to retaliate with counter
curses.

Hermione's disarming spell hit Pansy and her wand flew from her
hand. It was this which earned the misguided retaliation from Blaise.
Furious that a mudblood had attacked and disarmed his friend, he
shot a powerful Fiendfire curse at them, his anger almost out of
control.
Had Draco, or Pansy, realised just what spell he was going to cast,
they would have tried to stop him, but it was too late. Suddenly the
room around them was alight. So many things in the room of
requirement were made of wood, and the flames spread quickly and
uncontrollably. Blaise was instantly horrified at what he had done.

The way back to the door was blocked. There was no other option.
They could either burn to death immediately or climb the precarious
tower of furniture and try to find another way out. Potter was
nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had escaped? Either way, they
were on their own now. There was no way Potter and his friends
would help them.

They began to climb. The heat was becoming unbearable and the air
was thick with black smoke which made it hard to see and almost
impossible to breathe. The problem was that the smoke got thicker
the further up they climbed to avoid the flames which continued to
leap higher and higher. The pain all over, the loss of vision, the
choking sensation all combined to remind Draco of the powerful
Cruciatus curse he had once endured. He had almost died then. He
was determined not to die now! But as each second passed death
seemed more and more likely. If they could only get to the top and
somehow draw a deep enough breath to give them the power to
apparate out!

Over the crackling and searing noise of the flames, Draco heard a
scream. He felt the pile of furniture shift as one of the three of them
lost their grip and… Fell… fell to their death in the pit of flames.

He didn't want to look back. He didn't want to see who it was who
had fallen. Perhaps it would make very little difference anyway. It
would simple be a case of which one fell first, as it seemed unlikely
that any of them would survive.

'Draco…' Pansy's voice rasped from just behind him. 'Look!'

Draco looked up to see two figures on broomsticks flying into the

room! Instinctively he reached out for them, desperate for help, and
in seconds he and Pansy had been grabbed by the flyers and pulled
onto the brooms which sped towards the door.

Ron and Harry crash landed in the hallway and Hermione cast a
spell to close the doors as the Fiendfire roared up inside. Ron
pushed Pansy away from him the minute they landed and Draco had
only a second to wonder why the hell Potter had come back for them
before he took stock of the situation and realised what had just
happened.

'Where's Blaise?' He gasped shakily.

'Dead.' Retorted Weasley, venom in his voice, making no effort to

hide just how pleased he was about this. It was a response worthy of
Bellatrix herself.

Pansy began to sob, but no one took any notice. Weasley and the
mudblood shouted something to Potter about the chamber of secrets
and rushed off, leaving the crying Pansy and the shell shocked
Draco alone with Potter in the deserted corridor.

Potter should not have done it. Pansy was wandless. She was
crying. She was sitting on the floor, crying into her hands, shaking
with grief. He should not have curse her, but he did. He hit her with a
powerful body-bind curse because this would mean she would not
be able to follow them.

He grabbed hold of Draco's arm and pointed his wand at his throat.
Without a word, he dragged him down the corridor to a small
deserted office and pushed him inside. Now was his chance!
Chapter 65
What the fuck was Potter doing? Draco panicked. Did he somehow
know that Draco had taken the horcrux? Was he going to try to
torture him for information about where it was? Or was he simply
going to kill him there and then, out of pure hatred? Draco scrabbled
for his wand, but Potter was too quick for him.

It was not a torture curse that hit Draco once they were inside this
deserted room, but some kind of freezing charm which rendered
Draco unable to move. He was not frozen rigid like Pansy had been,
but was limp and lifeless… and completely unable to defend himself
from whatever attack Potter had planned. He found he could still
speak though, which lead him to think it was information that Potter
was after. He vowed that, no matter what, he would not give him any!

'What the fuck are you playing at, Pott..' Draco began, but he could
not finished his sentence before Harry had pounced on him, pushed
him up against the wall, and pressed himself against him. For a split
second Draco thought he was going to strangle him, or beat him up
the good old fashioned muggle way, but suddenly Potter's hand was
cupping his face and his fingers slipping into his hair…

'What the…' Draco began again.

The second he opened his mouth, Harry kissed him. He clamped his
lips forcefully over Draco's, who could do nothing to fight him off.
Harry sucked hard on Draco's bottom lip. He kissed messily,
aggressively, his mouth seemed to be all over the lower half of
Draco's face. He plunged his tongue into Draco's mouth, thrusting in
as far as he could. As though maybe the lost horcrux was down
Draco's throat and he was trying to pull it out with his tongue.

Draco tried to scream. What was Potter doing? Was this some kind
of battle tactic? He was supposed to hit him! Draco would have
rather that he had hit him!
When at last the vile, wet assault desisted, Potter drew back and
looked at Draco, keeping his body tightly against him. He caressed
Draco's face, seemingly oblivious to the expression of total shock
and horror that Draco wore.

'Gods, Draco!' Harry gasped. 'Gods! I've wanted to do that for so

long!'

It was now that Draco's blood froze in his veins as the horrifying
realisation of what was happening, and what may be about to
happen, truly hit him. With what little movement he had, he shook his
head, his eyes full of tears.

'Don't cry, Draco!' Whispered Harry. 'Don't cry. You don't have to cry
anymore!' With that he latched his mouth back over Draco's mouth
and kissed him again with the same brute force and utter lack of
consideration.

'I know why you didn't tell them.'

Harry whispered at last, as Draco gasped for breath. Tears rolled

down his pale cheeks. It was hard to cry when you are immobilised.

'You were protecting me. I know.' Harry whispered, stroking Draco's

tears from his face as Draco desperately tried to shake his head. 'I
know, Draco. I know you're in love with me.'

'No!' Draco gasped frantically. 'Potter, No, please, stop this!'

'Sssssshhhh!' Harry whispered into his ear. 'It's alright. No one can
hear us! You don't have to pretend any more Draco. It's all going to
be alright. I love you, Draco. I really love you.'

Harry kissed him again. Draco really was an amazing kisser! He just
let you do whatever you wanted, just like in Harry's dreams. Harry
thrust his body against Draco, rubbing his crotch against him.
Draco sobbed, choking on his own tears and on Potter's kisses.
Draco hated the taste of him. It was like butterscotch, ham
sandwiches and immaturity. Draco felt nauseated by his warm,
fleshy wet lips sucking at his own so indiscriminately. Was he trying
to kiss him or wash him like an animal, or perhaps even eat him?
Was it possible to vomit whilst under an immobilising curse? It was
certainly possible to cry while under one!

'I'm going to kill him, Draco!' Harry announced when at last the kiss
had finished. Draco's eyes widened in horror.

'It's ok my darling!' Harry whispered, seeing the fear in Draco's eyes.

'You don't have to tell me. I know. I know what he's been doing to
you. I'm going to kill him. He will never be able to touch you again.'

Draco was not even crying any more, he was literally hysterical,
gasping for each breath he took, and still unable to move, simply
having to listen to everything Potter was saying.

Potter hugged him tightly, which made breathing even more difficult.

'It will all be ok from now on!' Harry promised. 'After today, it will just
be you and me. I will take you away from all of this, somewhere safe.
Somewhere where no one will find us…' Harry thrust up against
Draco again and Draco could feel a firmness in Harry's trousers. 'I'll
make you forget all about what he did to you. I'll make you forget him
and only remember me!' Harry hissed.

This didn't even sound like a promise. It sounded like an outright

threat. It was not the voice of the needy, lovesick teenager who
couldn't kiss properly. This was a different side to Potter. A side he
would have loved to have blamed entirely on Voldemort. But it was a
side which is within everyone and it can only be controlled by facing
up to it and owning it. Something Harry had never been able to do!

Harry's hand moved to his own crotch and then to Draco's. Draco
was not hard like he was. It must be because of the immobilising
spell. He cupped Draco's cock through his trousers and rubbed him
firmly without any real skill.

'Please… Stop!' Draco managed between terrified sobs.

'You don't mean that!' Harry rasped, forcing his hand under Draco's
clothing. Draco's scream was smothered by another revolting kiss.
Harry's hand slipped into Draco's underwear and he began to fondle
his cock and his balls.

Draco could not move. He could not imagine anything in the world
worse than this. He had been tied up a couple of times and enjoyed
it, but he didn't think he would ever enjoy it again after this
experience. He could do nothing, nothing to stop this assault. Potter
was going to rape him and he couldn't even fight back. Draco
wanted to die. He would rather have died in the fire like Blaise had
done, than have this happen to him. He could never have seen this
coming, he would never have guessed. Whatever happened after
today, if he lived, Draco did not think he would ever want anyone to
touch him, ever again, he felt so disgusting.

Harry's other hand shot to his own crotch and he unfastened his
jeans. He took hold of his cock and pressed it against Draco and
began to tug.

'Oh, Gods, Draco! I want you so much!' He growled between the

sloppy kisses he planted on Draco's face. 'It's gonna be so good!
You and me. I'm gonna fuck you every day. I'll do it however you like
it. I'll show you baby, show you how it should be. I'll look after you.
No one will hurt you, ever again.'

'Please…' Draco gasped again but Harry cut him off.

'I love you baby. Oh Gods, I wanna fuck you so much! I think about
fucking you all the time! I've waited so long to be able to get you
alone! I know you want me too, I know you do. God's Draco, it's
gonna be so good!'
Crying wasn't enough. Vomiting wouldn't be enough. Nothing felt like
it would ever be enough to purge Draco of this feeling of violation.
Harry kicked Draco's legs apart and reached his had further between
them brushing his fingers over Draco's ass hole.

'Potter! Please! Don't!' Draco pleaded, his voice ringing with the
bitterest desperation.

'Don't fight it, Draco!' Harry hissed. 'I know you are in love with me.
Don't be frightened. It's going to be you and me from now on. I'll
show you. I'll show you right now how great it will be.'

Potter was insane. He was delusional. For some reason he truly

seemed to believe that Draco was in love with him! And armed with
this misguided idea he seemed more than happy to fuck Draco even
if he pleaded with him to stop. He was a maniac! Draco had always
known it. He had tried to warn people and now it was he himself who
had to suffer the consequences. If only he could make Potter stop.
Draco didn't know if he would ever recover if Potter actually did this
to him. It felt like the most horrible thing he could imagine, perhaps
particularly horrible because Potter was telling him over and over
again that he loved him. There had to be something he could say to
make him stop! It was a long shot, but if he bought into Potter's
delusional fantasy just enough, maybe, just maybe he could hold him
off?

'Harry! Please don't do this!' Draco breathed.

Hearing his first name stopped Harry in his tracks and he looked at
Draco's flushed and tear stained face.

'Why?' He whispered. 'Why, baby, what's the matter?'

'Our first time… It… It was never meant to be like this.' Draco
whispered, almost choking on every word and hating himself more
and more with each one he spoke. But it was working.
Harry withdrew his hand from Draco's trousers, and rested it
affectionately on his shoulder instead.

'It isn't?' He asked, his eyes wide like a child's at Christmas.

'No.' Draco whispered. 'Not here. Not like this. You said you would
take me away from all this…'

'I will!' Harry exclaimed. 'I will, I promise!'

'Somewhere nice?' Draco asked softly, hating himself almost as

much as he might have done if Harry had continued down the path
he had been on.

'Yes!' Cried Harry, tears in his eyes now. 'Somewhere lovely, just the
two of us. That's how it's meant to be! We'll get a pretty little
cottage…'

'In the woods.' Draco finished the sentence.

'Whatever you want, Draco. Whatever makes you happy!' Harry

kissed him. 'It will be perfect, I'll make it perfect for you, I promise.'
Harry's mind filled with images of a country cottage with a fire lit in
the hearth and roses round the door. A bedroom lit by candle light.
Clean white linen on the bed, rose petals sprinkled over it. He could
cook Draco dinner first, then they could make out by the fire. Then
he could carry him up the stairs and throw him onto the bed and
begin a night of unbridled passion. That was how it should be.

'Thank you.' Draco breathed, his words almost genuine. It was

possible he was thanking the Gods…

'It's going to be ok now, Draco.' Harry whispered, finally tucking

himself back into his jeans. 'I'm going to go and finish this thing once
and for all. Then, I'm going to come back for you. Stay here. Be safe.
When it's all over I will tell them all how you helped me when I was
captured, how you saved my life. I'll clear your name and we'll
disappear, just the two of us. Oh, Draco! I can't wait! I'm so happy!'
Draco could find no more words. He felt he had betrayed his very
soul in speaking the ones he had already spoken. He simply nodded
and gave the weakest of smiles. He endured one more kiss before
Potter dashed from the room like an over excited child.

Draco still couldn't move, although the spell was beginning to wear
off. He cried. He cried like a baby, the way Voldemort had done
when he lay in his arms. It felt horrible to Cry like that when you were
standing up and unable to move. Every instinct was to curl up in a
well protected ball in the corner of the room. Not being able to felt
dreadful. Draco felt so exposed, like he was being violated all over
again.

One of his best friends had just died, one of his oldest and most loyal
friends. It was his fault really, he asked for help and put them in
danger. Draco felt like such a failure. He hadn't even managed to get
the wand. He cried harder and harder. He cried for Blaise, he cried
for himself and the ordeal he had just suffered. He cried for
Voldemort, feeling that he had somehow betrayed him in making
those false statements to Potter, even if it had been what spared
him.

At last the immobilising spell began to weaken and his legs bent. He
sunk down lower and lower until his was curled up in the floor. He
was no longer crying. There were no tears left. Silently he tried to
collect his thoughts and decide what he should do. Maybe he could
formulate a plan before his movement returned.

He had to stop Potter from winning! Now more than ever. He had
assumed that Potter would have him killed or thrown into Azkaban,
but it seemed he was wrong. Either would have been preferable to
Draco than the reality that faced him. If Potter won, he intended to
take Draco as his spear-bride. Draco remembered this term from
reading classical mythology when he was young. When a hero was
victorious he took the spouse of his enemy as a sex slave. That's
what would happen to him. No one would stop Potter from doing it.
Potter had always got away with doing whatever he wanted. If he
won this war that would only get worse. Draco wondered if it was
possible to cast Avada Kedavera over yourself..? Draco flinched as
his body remembered Potters touch. Even if Draco were not deeply
in love with someone else, he could never, ever love Potter! He
could certainly not suffer a lifetime of those roving, grasping
inexperienced hands, and warm, sloppy, unskilled kisses. He
shuddered. He would die first! If Voldemort died, then he wanted to
as well.
Chapter 66
Voldemort's cold voice echoed through the castle…

'Too much magical blood had been spilled tonight. Potter has
allowed his friends to die for him, there is no honor in this. Bury you
dead with dignity. Potter must face me alone in the forest and no
longer hide behind others…'

The familiar sound of his voice gave new hope to Draco. Hearing the
voice of the one he loved, Draco felt as though perhaps he could
recover from the trauma he had just experienced at Potter's hands.
He longed to be with Voldemort, longed for his kisses and his touch.
Then he would feel alright again, he was almost sure of it.

Draco felt for Voldemort with his mind, reached out for him,
desperate to feel the connection between them. When they were
together they could feel each others thoughts sometimes, and
Voldemort clearly had more advanced powers in this area than
Draco knew about, as he could 'speak' to everyone in the castle this
way. If only he would reach out to him!

Draco waited, concentrating hard and it was only minutes before he

heard Voldemort's voice speaking to him. Only to him.

'Draco? Draco! I can feel you, where are you?'

Draco's heart leapt. He felt instantly better, safer, happier. Just

hearing Voldemort say his name and he suddenly believed in love all
over again. Believed that life could feel nice again. That he could be
happy…

But Draco didn't really know how to reply to Voldemort in this

fashion. Draco was, in fact, a better reader of thoughts than a sender
of messages. He concentrated hard on the phrases he wanted to tell
his lover…
'I'm stuck in the castle. I'm OK…' But it was hard to focus on these
phrases when 'I love you! Gods! I love you, I need you so much…'
kept swirling through his mind.

'You are distressed, love. I can feel your pain… What happened to
you…'

'I'm alright now I have heard you!' Was the sentence Draco formed
instinctively, and Voldemort received this message clearly.

'Stay where you are. I will see you soon. ' Was the response he
received.

'I love you.' Draco focused hard.

'I adore you.' Was the reply.

Draco's concentration faded and he sobbed, however, it was a sob

of happiness. Nothing Potter did, nothing anyone did could take
away from what he had Voldemort had together. From their shaky
beginnings; Draco's uncertainty and Voldemort's carelessness, they
had, almost accidently, created something so real, so strong that
nothing could break them. Draco felt a ray of hope. If they could
overcome all the obstacles they had dealt with in the last 2 years,
then perhaps they could overcome this situation, too?

He mused over Voldemort's words. It sounded like the enemy had

sustained heavy losses. This technique Voldemort was using was a
clever one. It was one they had discussed between the two of
them… Demonstrate your superior power in a battle, inflict great
damage, then grant some benevolence. The first attack serves as a
warning. The 'kind' gesture shows the enemy that if they conform,
they may be allowed some liberties. They will mourn their dead and
not wish to risk losing more people they love, and so will fall into line
more easily… If this was the strategy Voldemort was employing,
things must be going well. Draco smiled, relieved to discover that he
still could.
It then occurred to Draco that it was possible that Potter thought the
horcrux had been destroyed in the room of requirement. He thought
he had found it, after all. This idea inspired Draco to even greater
hope and a renewed sense of self esteem after what had just
happened. He had actually tricked Potter and got one over on him.

The very thought of Potter had disturbed him all over again. If ever
Draco had hated Potter before, it paled into insignificance compared
with his feelings now. Hatred was not a strong enough word to
describe how Draco felt. Even after the septum sempra incident, he
had not wanted revenge on Potter quite as much as he did now. How
dare Potter do that to him? How dare he, the maladjusted pervert!
The time had come to end Potter and his reign of utter selfishness,
his delusions of being able to whatever he wanted to whoever he
wanted! Draco's anger rose.

Even if Voldemort was defeated, before Draco gratefully joined him

in death, he would play Potter at his little game. Bring on the cottage
in the woods, the flowers and the chocolates… Draco could play
along. Not long enough for anything to happen, but just long enough
for Draco to get a knife in his hand. The next embrace Potter forced
upon him would be worth enduring for the pleasure of sticking the
knife into his back and watching the horror on his face as he bled to
death. If the worst happened and Voldemort was killed, Draco would
not only join him, but he would get revenge first. For both of them.
Even at the time, Draco was not sure how serious this plan was, but
at that moment it felt a lot better to be angry than it did to cry.

Draco's angry thoughts were disrupted by a thump at the door and

he jumped in fright. His full range of movement had not yet returned
and he did not want to be discovered while he was still vulnerable.
The door creaked open and he strained to see who was there. For a
moment he saw nothing, no figure stood in the doorway. Then he
looked down. The figure was on the floor.

It was a horrifying sight. A smoke blackened figure with long messy

hair covering it's face, crawling, with great difficulty, along the floor
with pained angular movements. It would not have looked out of
place in a muggle horror movie and Draco swore in fright when he
saw it.

With great difficulty, the figure raised it's head and Draco swore
again when he saw who it was.

'Pansy!' He cried.

Still very much immobilised by Potter's curse, the ever determined

Pansy had crawled the length of the corridor and managed to get
into the room where she had seen Potter take Draco.

Her face was tear stained. She tried to speak, but all that came was
a muffled whimper.

Draco gathered all of his own strength and dragged himself over to
her, pushing the door shut and then forcing his arm around her,
holding her as tightly as he could while they sat on the floor.

'Fuck! Pansy, are you alright?' Draco asked, aware that she probably
couldn't answer yet. She tried to nod, but then thought about her
answer and tried to shake her head instead.

'No. Me neither.' Draco replied. 'We'll be ok in a minute though, the

spells are wearing off.'

When at last Pansy could speak she turned to Draco and looked at
him, her eyes full of concern.

'Are you alright Draco? What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?'

Draco opened his mouth expecting to give a normal spoken-word

response. To answer her question in a sensible, controlled way. After
all he felt calmer now, didn't he? He was genuinely taken back when
instead of words, the sound that escaped his lips was nothing more
than a gasping, inwards sob. Suddenly his eyes were full of tears
again. It seemed his tears had not run out, but only dried up
temporarily. He hung his head in shame and trembled as he cried.
Pansy had little or no Legilimens ability, but she knew Draco well.
Perhaps you didn't always have to be a mind reader to communicate
without words.

'Oh Gods!' She grasped Draco tightly to her, so grateful that some of
her strength had returned. She did not want to believe the conclusion
she had arrived at. 'Draco, did he rape you?' She asked. The words
almost made her sick.

Draco took a moment or two to calm his breathing and be able to

speak again. He had been surprised at the return of emotion just like
that, but Pansy asking if he was ok had broken him. Perhaps
because it forced him to admit that he wasn't. Hearing her ask
directly if Potter had raped him had been shocking too. It had scared
him all over again because it brought it all back, made it all real. Yes.
That was what Potter had been going to do. It wasn't just some nasty
scuffle, some odd, out of line behaviour. It had a name. It was a thing
that people did to other people. It was a real thing and it was what
would have happened if Draco hadn't lied in the way he had done.
That was terrifying. Draco was almost as scared now, afterwards, as
he had been during the ordeal itself.

But it hadn't actually happened, Potter had stopped. He should tell

Pansy this. He shook his head and Pansy reached into her pocket
and handed Draco a tissue. He was a mess. She had never seen
Draco look like this. She supposed she was probably a mess too,
and poor Draco had far more reason to be. Draco dried his eyes and
blew his nose, desperate to feel normal again.

'He didn't.' He said at last. 'He was going to. He assaulted me, I
guess, but he stopped.'

Pansy shook her head in disbelief. Not because she didn't believe
Draco but because she could not quite believe that even Potter could
behave so appallingly.

'I swear to the God's Draco, if the Dark Lord doesn't kill him, I'll kill
that son of a bitch myself!' She whispered venomously.
'Join the queue!' Draco whispered back, and Pansy felt glad that he
was able to be angry rather than just devastated. Being angry was
not a nice feeling, she knew, but it was slightly better than despair.

'Why did he stop?' She asked, and then realising she may be being
insensitive she added, 'You don't have to talk about it if you don't
want to.'

Draco sighed. It was better to talk about it, and better now than
leaving it and having to revisit it again later.

I don't honestly know.' He said. 'He was saying lots of weird stuff to
me. It… He… he wasn't doing it to hurt me… he kept saying…'
Draco stopped.

Pansy nodded, encouraging him to speak.

'He said he loves me.' Draco whispered and Pansy's eyebrows shot
up.

'That's how Gryffindors show people they love them, is it!' She spat.

'Pansy, it was horrible!' Draco gasped. 'He thinks I am in love with

him. He says he's going to win the war and then we can be together.'

'Holy fuck!' Pansy breathed. 'He's totally lost it. They should have
thrown him into Azkaban years ago! Or locked him up in St Mungos
or something! So what made him stop?'

Draco tensed. This was the worst bit. This was the part he didn't
want to talk about.

'I was desperate to stop him Pansy, I was so desperate!' He pleaded,

paving the way for his confession. 'I had been begging him to stop,
trying to tell him he was wrong, but he wouldn't accept it. He just told
me not to fight it, and that I didn't have to pretend anymore.'

Disgusted, Pansy shook her head again.

'I got him to stop by asking him nicely… and telling him that I didn't
want…' Draco paused and hung his head. 'That I didn't want the first
time to be like this.'

Pansy frowned, unsure what Draco meant.

'I implied I did want him, that I would go away with him after the
war!' Draco sobbed. 'I made him think that I only asked him to stop
because I wanted it to happen somewhere nicer…' Draco dissolved
into tears again.

Pansy squeezed him.

'It made him stop though, Dray. Thank the Gods! That's the
important thing. It doesn't matter what you had to say as long as he
stopped.'

She was right of course, stopping him was what mattered. But in
Draco's mind he had violated himself by saying what he had said.
Draco was not sure if that was better or worse than having Potter
violate him.

'I was so desperate to make him stop, Pansy! I couldn't bare him
touching me!' Draco wept.

'It must have been dreadful.' She soothed. 'You did the right thing by
lying to him Draco. Don't even think about that!'

'But I feel like I betrayed myself.' Draco said. 'Like I sold myself out. I
feel like I betrayed… Voldemort.' Draco buried his face on Pansy's
shoulder.

She had flinched at the name. Draco had never actually told her
outright who his lover was. This was not how she had wanted to find
out.

'Will he be angry Dray?' She whispered, suddenly afraid. Draco's

tears might not be about the trauma of what had happened, they
may be about the fear of what was to come.

'He would be angry with Potter, not with me.' Draco confirmed
confidently. 'I think he would be glad I stopped him, however it
happened, whatever lies I had to tell. He wouldn't have wanted me to
go through that. He didn't even want me to come here today.'

Pansy listened, very intensely as Draco spoke. It was almost like he

was thinking aloud. Pansy was pleased that he seemed to have
rationalised that the lies he had told to Potter were necessary,
however unpleasant. For Pansy, listening to him speak this way was
useful, as it was interesting to get an insight into a relationship she
was having a hard time picturing.

'He didn't want you to come here?' She echoed.

Draco shook his head.

'No.' He replied. 'He wanted me to wait safely at home.' Draco gave

a low, sarcastic laugh. 'Perhaps I should have listened.'

'He knows you did come here though, right?' Pansy clarified.

'Yes, of course he does. I told him I was coming weather he liked it

or not and he couldn't make me stay behind.'

Pansy's jaw dropped.

'You said that? To the Dark Lord?'

'Something like that.' Draco answered.

Pansy nodded. Clearly there was more to Draco's relationship with

the Dark Lord than she might have imagined. She sighed.

'Hell, Dray, I hope to the Gods he wins! It's a better life for all of us if
he does. I can't imagine my life will be too peachy if Potter takes
over.'
Draco smiled. Hearing Pansy talk like this made him feel much less
alone.

'You got a future mapped out with a certain someone, Pans?' Draco
asked teasingly.

Pansy smiled now. It was lovely to see. She blushed too, even under
all the smoke marks.

'Well… I'd like to have!' She paused. 'I wish you had been at school
more this year Draco and I could have told you about it!'

'Tell me now.' Draco prompted and Pansy smiled.

'Well it kind of came out of the blue really.' She began. 'I really
wanted to improve my grades in Dark Arts class so I started
attending extra study sessions. I guess I had noticed that he seemed
to look at me quite a lot but I didn't really think anything of it.' She
paused and smiled. 'Lots of people stopped attending the class
because it was quite difficult, and then there were a couple of times I
was the only one there. He taught the session, but afterwards he
took a bit of time to chat to me, you know? And I got the sense that
he was attracted to me then, he was more and more flirty each time.
Then one night when I was the only student in the class and we just
chatted right from the start. We just clicked, Dray, I can't really
explain it. We talked and, well, one thing lead to another…' She
blushed.

'Really!' Draco grinned. 'In a classroom? Pansy! I'm surprised at you!

I thought you were a model student these days! I guess now I know
where those good grades were coming from!'

Pansy laughed and punched him playfully.

'Cheeky bastard!' She laughed.

'I'm happy for you.' Draco said sincerely.

'Well, if Potter wins, Amycus will be handed to the dementors in a
heartbeat, won't he? He's a big supporter of the Dark Lord, has been
for ages.' Pansy sighed.

'I know.' Said Draco. 'I remember recommending him and his sister
for jobs here.'

Pansy stared at him.

'You did that?' She asked.

'Yeah. Voldemort needed some people here to help support Snape. I

thought they'd be good.'

'Wow Dray!' Pansy breathed, picturing somewhat accurately, Draco

leaning on the arm of the Dark Lord's chair whispering advice into
his ear. 'Talk about sleeping your way to the top!' She added as
payback for his teachers pet jibes!

Draco laughed. He felt better. He actually felt better just for talking.
He accepted that there may be moments in the future where issues
arose after what he just experienced at Potters hands, but being able
to talk and even laugh with a friend had done enough to assure him
that he would survive it. It had been dreadful but Potter had stopped
and Draco was alright. That which didn't kill him made him stronger.

'If he doesn't win though…' Pansy mused anxiously.

'Yes…?' Draco whispered.

'If he doesn't win… I'm gonna fight it Dray.' Pansy announced

passionately. 'I won't let them take you and Amycus and everyone
else I care about. I lost one of my best friends today, I'm not losing
any more!'

Draco nodded. They hadn't even talked about Blaise. It was almost
like if they didn't talk about it, It hadn't actually happened. But he
wasn't there with them, and he wasn't just waiting in the common
room or on a hot date, or on detention either. He was gone. Forever.
They would never see him again, never talk to him again. Draco
sighed. Although he had never been in love with Blaise, Blaise had
meant a lot to him. He had felt safe with him. Safe enough to fool
around with him when he had not been sure exactly what it was he
wanted, sexually. He had known he would be safe with his friend
Blaise. He had argued with him, cried on his shoulder, learned how
to play chess with him. Learned how to kiss with him. Draco had
imagined there would be years and years of experiences he and
Blaise would share in one way or another. He'd watch Blaise get
married, have children and become a responsible adult. Draco would
support him, all the time grateful that he hadn't had to become a
responsible adult himself. The imaginary future he had assumed, if
not consciously imagined, dissolved and fell through the cracks in
reality. Because Blaise was dead.

'We will have a proper funeral for him, when all this is over.' Draco
whispered. 'I won't let him be forgotten, Pans. We will remember him
properly after all this.'

'If the Dark Lord wins.' Pansy whispered.

'I'll fight with you Pansy.' Draco said suddenly, everything becoming
clear. 'Whatever happens, they won't take us and the people we
love.'

'They won't take me alive!' Pansy spat. 'And it will be over my cold
dead body that Potter gets his filthy hands on you again!'

Draco shuddered.

'I'm not going to sit back and let this happen.' She finished.

Draco nodded, inspired as always by Pansy's spirit.

'Whatever has happened in the forest, even if Voldemort has won,

there is still work to do, Pans. We need to be ready to fight if there's
a retaliation. We need to be there, to stand up for ourselves and for
what we want.' Draco said.

Limbs still aching from the curse, Pansy pulled herself to her feet
and offered her hand to Draco. He took hold of it and scrambled to
his feet.

'We can do this, Dray.' She said boldly.

'You have no wand, Pansy. You'll have to stick close to me till you
find one.' Draco told her.

'I thought Potter had stolen yours.' Pansy said.

'He has.' Draco replied. 'This one is Voldemort's. It's his old one, he
uses a different one now. I've been using this one for a while.'

Pansy looked suitably impressed.

'We stick together like glue.' Draco insisted.

'OK.' Pansy agreed. 'And we apparate if we have to.'

'Where to?' Draco asked. Anywhere familiar would be to obvious.

'Remember when we ran away from school when we were in year 5?

That deserted house we broke into, we hid there all day and then got
scared when it got dark?'

Draco nodded.

'We'll go there.' Pansy smiled. 'If we are scared anyway it won't

make any difference this time.'

Draco smiled back.

'Let's go.' He said, taking hold of her hand.

Lucius and Narcissa were frightened. Their son was missing, he had
evaded them and disappeared into the battle scene and had not
returned. Unlike Voldemort, they had no way of knowing if he were
still alive. Added to their fear and distress about Draco's welfare,
they feared Voldemort's reaction to them having lost Draco in the
castle. They assembled with the others in the forest, unsure what
would happen to them. The Dark Lord did not speak to them about
Draco's fate. Did he know something? Or perhaps he no longer
cared?

Harry ran from the castle, ignoring his friends, ignoring the grieving
masses around him. He could not wait. He had no plan, had gained
no new information but he ran to face Voldemort like a child running
to the fair ground. Nothing else mattered. He would win. How could
he not win? As far as he was concerned he had already won. This
was just a formality. Go to the forest, defeat the Dark Lord, go back
to the castle. Probably have to make a few dull statements to the
Ministry, the Prophet etc etc… But then! Then, the bit he had been
longing for! Then, the bit which made all of his lonely, miserable life
feel like it might actually have been worth something after all. Then,
he could go to Draco. His Draco. There was a war to fight and there
was a reason to win it!
Chapter 67
Hogwarts was a mess. No matter how badly Draco and Pansy
wanted Voldemort to be victorious, it was hard for them to see the
castle, which for so long had been their home from home, in partial
ruins. Nor was it easy to walk past the rows of dead bodied and
grieving loved ones, even if they were the enemy.

They were not the only students milling around, looking lost and
confused. Dazed students from all houses were wondering about the
tattered great hall, seeking out friends, family or simply familiar
faces. Draco and Pansy both noticed that it was the Slytherin
students who were largely left to their own devices with no support or
help offered from the adults around them. Draco sighed. Not all of
those Slytherin students had family connections with the Dark Lord,
but they were probably used to being guilty until proven innocent by
now!

As Draco and Pansy walked through the great hall, people were
beginning to move. Something was happening outside in the court
yard. Draco had quite lost track of how long he and Pansy had been
talking in the abandoned office. Was the battle in the forest over
already? They, along with the others moved towards the windows
and the doors.

A large group of people, forming something of a procession, were

emerging from the forest and approaching the court yard. Draco
strained his neck to try to get a glimpse of the crowd who were
approaching. Was Voldemort amongst them? Was he ok? Draco
tried to feel for him with his mind, but opening his mind up to mental
communication in a room full of grieving people was unbearable!

As the figures got closer he could identify one taller figure first. It was
Hagrid, he was sure of that. What did that mean? The figures around
him were clad in black, they were death eaters. Hagrid was some
kind of prisoner. Did that mean…? Then Draco saw him. Saw
Voldemort and his heart leap. He gave a somewhat embarrassing
scream of joy and relief and clutched Pansy for a second before
calming himself. Remembering that they were still behind enemy
lines and he did not want to draw attention to their presence.

The figures entered the court yard and Pansy got a look at
Voldemort for the first time. It was difficult not to be terrified. She
clutched Draco's hand and squeezed it. Was that sinister, snake
featured creature really the person her best friend crawled into bed
with? Did Draco kiss this man? Did he hug him? The Dark Lord was
so frightening to look at, she was not sure if she approved! However,
glancing at Draco, she saw lights in his eyes she had feared she
might not ever see again after his ordeal. The way Draco looked at
the Dark Lord told her all she needed to know.

'Harry Potter is dead!' Voldemort's voice resonated around the open

space.

Pansy flung her arms around Draco's waist and squeezed him.
Draco must be even more relieved to hear this than she was.

Pansy took Draco's hand and they squeezed their way towards the
front of the crowd. Pansy jumped when she saw Amycus, standing
near the front, wand drawn, pointing at a group of young students to
keep them under control. Draco encouraged Pansy towards him and
they went and stood by his side.

Amycus was delighted to see Pansy unharmed. He was as fond of

her as she was of him. In addition to his fondness was the
overwhelming feeling of not quite being able to believe his luck, as
Pansy was just the sort of pretty, popular, sexy girl who had never
looked twice at him when he was at school. He noticed instantly that
she was with the Malfoy boy. He had known they were friends but
perhaps not realised just how close they were. Keen to protect
Pansy from harm he encouraged them to him. He stood protectively
in front of Draco too, as perhaps it wouldn't do any harm to be seen
to be looking out for him as well.
Voldemort called for people to join him and just at that precise
moment Narcissa noticed Draco.

'Draco!' She gasped! 'Draco, come here!'

Voldemort noticed him as Narcissa spoke, and he too felt a rush of

relief, no less great than Narcissa's had been, despite already
knowing that Draco was still alive. He wanted Draco beside him.
Now.

He beckoned him over.

Draco, who had been fighting every instinct to run to Voldemort and
throw himself into his arms the very moment he saw him, was now a
little nervous and hesitant as he walked across the empty no man's
land space between the two factions. The nearer he got to
Voldemort, however, the more clearly he could feel his emotions.
Relief, happiness but also anxiety. There was still a lot of work to do.
He opened his arms.

Draco almost froze. What was he doing? Then Draco made sense of
it. He, Draco, was leading by example. This was a publicity stunt.
Draco represented a Hogwarts student walking from one side to the
other, to join the Dark Lord, to be welcomed and accepted.
Voldemort hugged him for a few seconds only, making the hug look
chaste, impersonal and as though it were simply a welcome
greeting.

It's hard to hug someone in that impersonal way when you have
been sleeping with them for over 2 years. When you know each
others deepest secrets. When you desperately want to embrace
passionately, kiss each other and sob in gratitude. It ends up looking
very strange as you both fight these emotions and try to stick to this
impromptu performance. It looks very awkward!

Both Draco and Voldemort were secretly reassured by each others

touch. However it may have looked to the onlookers, once they were
back in close proximity to one another, they could once again feel
their deep emotional connection. They wordlessly made promises of
what was to come when this was over and they could at last be
alone again!

Voldemort ushered Draco over to his parents. Draco was as glad to

see they were ok as they were to see him.

Voldemort called for more to join him. Was this really it? Draco
wondered. Was it really over? He glanced at the body of Harry Potter
in Hagrid's arms. This was one dead body Draco did not find it
difficult to look at.

Then somebody stepped forward from the crowd. People gasped. It

was Longbottom. Neville Longbottom, the hopeless gawky kid who
had been the butt of peoples jokes for the last 7 years. He stepped
forward and pledged he would continue to fight. He was surprisingly
convincing and Draco was beginning to think it was almost a shame
they would have to kill him, when all of a sudden the worst
happened.

The lifeless figure of Potter suddenly sprung out of Hagrid's arms

and stood facing Voldemort. The world was plunged into fear and
darkness again and Draco knew he would now have the chance to
live up to the decision he and Pansy had made to fight. It was not
over. They were not safe. It truly was all still to fight for.

Although Potter challenged Voldemort directly, one to one, the

fighting broke out amongst everyone else again immediately.
Voldemort and Potter disappeared in combat and all Draco could do
now was pray that Voldemort was stronger and more skilled and
would be able to defeat Potter once more. Draco would pray, and he
would fight!

Pansy had been dragged along with the crowd back into the building.
Draco had pledged to stay close to her and she was still wandless!

Using a series of disarming spells, Draco blasted several Gryfindors

out of his way and ran to the great hall. He scanned the room for
Pansy. It was not Pansy he saw first, but Bellatrix. She was attacking
the Weasley family and was lined up perfectly to finish off that stuck
up, preppy little Weasel-girl when Mrs Weasley suddenly turned
around and shot a spell at Bellatrix. Draco responded in a split
second. The first spell had disarmed Bellatrix, a second would
impale her on a large spike which protruded from the wall…

'Experiamus!' Draco yelled and shot Mrs. Weasley's wand from her
hand. His participation seemed to shock everyone, but Bellatrix
recovered first. Summoning her wand she stood side by side with
her nephew and rapidly began to resume the task she had started.

'Don't kill them all.' Draco advised. 'They are pure bloods, remember.
They may be needed to rebuild the population.'

'Ha!' Screeched Bellatrix. 'Who'd want to rebuild with scum like that?'
She laughed as she and Draco ran from the room.

'Someone will be persuaded I'm sure.' Draco replied. 'Someone will

want to. Some people have very odd desires, Aunty Bella!' Draco
added, teasingly and meaningfully, letting her know he had guess
her secret.

She glared at him.

'You are an obnoxious little brat!' She hissed, and then with a smile,
she rested her hand on his shoulder and gave him a nod which told
him 'I'm proud of you!'

Chaos reigned around them and Draco looked around for Pansy. He
saw her just as she had disarmed a young Hufflepuff student and
taken their wand. He ran to her.

'Thank the Gods!' He gasped. 'You're alright.'

'What do we need to do?' She gasped.

Draco thought for a moment.

'Disarm as many of them as possible. Immobilise them, especially
the adults and the older students. I don't know who needs to be kept
alive, so we just need to take prisoners I think. Remember I'm not
supposed to be fighting, I don't know all the details!'

'Right.' Pansy said, raising her wand. 'I wanna find Granger. We'll
see who's top of the class for spell casting now!'

They ran from the room, Pansy momentarily distracted by shooting a

hex to disarm Padma Patil which sent her flying unconscious into a
corner.

People were running everywhere and Draco's heart nearly stopped

when he caught sight of the scene unfolding on the flight of stairs
before him. He screamed in horror.

Nagini! Nagini was there, descending the staircase, jaws open,

hissing ferociously, chasing terrified students. She was not meant to
be there! She had been told to stay behind! But then again, so had
Draco. This was the risk, Draco supposed of making a living thing
into a horcrux. Nagini had a mind of her own and she wanted to fight
for the people she cared about too.

The students ran screaming from her, all but one. One student was
gaining upon her, brandishing a sword, ready to strike. Draco
screamed again and raised his wand. How could Longbottom, the
useless lump have become such a danger? It was even less feasible
than Potter becoming dangerous! He was going to do it though. He
was going to kill Nagini!

'Avada…' Draco began. He knew the spell in theory, but could he

actually make it work now that he needed to?

'AVADA KADAVRA!' A harsh voice shouted and a jet of green light

shot past Draco and hit Neville square in the chest sending him and
the sword flying backwards, safely away from Nagini.
Draco spun round to see who had cast the spell. Bellatrix smiled at
him.

'Thank you.' He breathed.

'Pleasure.' Bella retorted. 'I always like to finish a job!' She laughed
and charged away.

Pansy stared in admiration and Draco glanced round to see if he

could see where Nagini had slithered away to. He wanted to tell her
to go home, but he knew full well that he couldn't actually speak to
her and that she probably wouldn't listen anyway.

He, Pansy and Bellatrix ran to the court yard and arrived just in time
to see Voldemort and Potter crash land in the middle of the space
having descended through the air in combat.

They both lay on the floor for a second before they began to move.

Draco gasped. Pansy clamped her hand over mouth. This was it.
This was the finale. Everything came down to this one moment.
Voldemort and Potter scrabbled for their wands and jumped to their
feet.

They cast their spells at the exact same time, the jets of light locking
in the air half way between the two of them, both spells equally as
strong.

The onlookers did not dare breath as everything they had fought for,
everything they believed in hung in the balance. Draco watched his
hopes and dreams, his fragile happiness, balancing on the edge of a
precipice. Would it be pulled to safety or would it fall and be
shattered into a thousand pieces?

The seconds seemed hours as the spells locked in mid air, until
there was a sudden sharp snap. One of the wands was failing! A
dreadful, crackling sound tore the fearful atmosphere as one spell
began to lose power, to retreat, being pushed further and further
towards the tip of the failing wand.

The opponents spell grew stronger, their hope renewing, their victory
in sight! The spell at last reached the tip of the weakening wand, the
force of it instantly burning out the wand core, obliterating its magic,
before doing the same to the wizard who held it.

A dead body dropped heavily to the cold stone floor, the charred
remains of a once cherished wand still clutched in their lifeless hand.
Chapter 68
'His eyes gently flutter and he moans softly as I move on top of him.
He draws deep gasping breaths as I move between his slender legs
and prepare to enter him. He looks so pretty and so helpless laying
beneath me, on his back. He won't try to fight me. Not today.

I enter him and it feels like worlds collide, like stars are falling from
the skies, I love him so much. He doesn't scream today, he just sobs
gently as I fill him completely. He's always been very emotional. I
kiss him softly. I'm in the mood to be gentle.

It's just over a year since I won the war. I almost can't believe how
much time has elapsed and still I want him as much today as I did in
the beginning. I let my intentions and feelings for him become public
knowledge almost immediately after the battle. I had waited long
enough. We had waited long enough. I was glad to be able to be
honest. Some people were surprised of course. I suppose it wasn't
what they expected of me. But people accept it now. After all, why
shouldn't I want this?

I watch him screw his eyes shut and I listen to him sigh as I fuck him.
His hands grip the bed sheets tightly. I bury my face in the crook of
his neck and suck at the delicate skin. He love this, it always pushes
him closer when I bite him like this. He cried out loud and grips my
shoulder almost without thinking, digging his nails into my skin. I
don't mind.

I almost draw out of him and then thrust in hard. Now he screams. I
take hold of his hips and pull him further onto me so that I am as
deep inside him as I can get. He is so flushed and so beautiful. I
begin to pound him harder and harder. I'd take more time with him,
but I have things I need to do today. I will make it up to him later,
really spoil him with my attention, but for now there is just time for
this. I couldn't leave the house without taking him first, without letting
him know just how much I want him. Just how much I love him.
He's close, and so am I, but I'll get him there before I come. It's
selfish not to. And I like having that effect on him. I have always liked
that. Relentlessly I push into him, hitting him right where he needs it
and at last I feel him climax and it pushes me over the edge, just like
it always does.

I kiss him softly once we have finished and I whisper that I love him.

I really do love him. I can never forget that it is because of him that I
won the war. There were moments when it was his love that
motivated me, his love and my desire to build a perfect life for him.
His love really did save me and he makes me so happy. Perhaps
happier than I deserve to be. If it hadn't been for him, who knows
what could have happened out there in the battle? I am here to tell
the tale simply because he loves me.

Who knows how it could have ended if it hadn't been for his loyalty, if
it hadn't been for his wand.'
Chapter 69
Looking back, Draco Malfoy would conclude that the hours that
immediately followed the battle were some of the longest of his life:

There was a deathly silence in the court yard. Despite being early
morning, not even the birds were making any noise, there was not
even the rustle of leaves blowing in the wind. No one dared speak.
No one dared move. Was it really over? Was he really dead?

Draco stared at the lifeless body on the floor, not quite sure if he
believed his eyes. Could this really have happened? There was no
flicker of life in the still open eyes, and no movement in the tense
closed hand. Draco stared at the burnt out wand. A wand that had,
for a time, belonged to him.

Draco understood at last. Draco's wand, it turned out, was just as

devious and clever as Draco himself. Although it had worked in
Potter's hands, Draco had always been its master. When the time of
reckoning came, it answered to Draco's desires, not Potter's. When
Potter had tried to cast a spell against the man Draco loved, the
wand, fierce in its loyalty to Draco, had sacrificed itself. It allowed the
spell it cast to fail. Meaning that Potter had been killed. Meaning that
Voldemort had won.

It was Bellatrix's voice that first broke the silence with a loud and
impassioned scream.

'MORSMORDRE!' She cried, pointing her wand into the sky and
conjuring the dark mark above the castle, prompting the death eaters
to join her in cheering the victory.

Draco turned to Voldemort. Voldemort had been looking at Draco

since the moment that Potter had fallen. Draco's eyes filled with
tears and he gasped with happiness and relief. It was probably not
the proper thing to do, but he ran. Ran to Voldemort and flung his
arms around him.

It probably didn't give the correct impression, but Voldemort flung his
arms around Draco in return and gripped him so tightly that Draco
could hardly breath. He released him after a second or so, aware
they had an audience and that there was work still to be done here.

Many of the crowd had been looking at the skull and snake that had
appeared in the sky and had missed this far less awkward hug taking
place. Not Pansy though. She too had not taken her eyes off Draco
since Potter had fallen. She smiled as she watched Draco run to
Voldemort, and she saw the way Voldemort held Draco. She nodded
happily. Other people might not see it right away, but she did. They
were right together.

Bellatrix, Greyback, Snape and some of the other most elite death
eaters gathered close around their master. Lucius and Narcissa
moved closer too, mostly because Draco was there. Voldemort
turned to Draco first.

'Will you stay here with me Draco, while we sort this situation out? Or
would you prefer to go with your parents and wait for me at the
manor?'

Draco smiled at him cunningly.

'I'll stay with you.' He said in a matter of fact way, making it clear that
from this point onwards he was no longer going to be kept on the
sidelines.

Lucius and Narcissa were dismissed.

'Go back to your home.' Voldemort instructed them. 'Draco and I will
join you later.' Many people heard him. He made no secret of his
relationship with Draco. There was no need any more.
The work began. The death eaters far outnumbered the remaining
members of the Order of the Phoenix and it was easy work to round
them up and execute them there and then.

The school, or what remained of it, was to be used as a holding area

for the children, rather than carting them off to Azkaban. Death
eaters would be in charge of the area, and over the coming weeks,
each school child could be interviewed. They would be given the
chance to decide where their loyalties and allegiances were, and
what course of action they would like to take. Did they want a future
in the new wizarding world, or would they prefer a future in
Azkaban? They would be given the option. Voldemort was nothing if
not fair.

Voldemort announced these plans to the frightened crowds and

several death eaters began to round up the children.

Draco and Bellatrix, along with Grayback, walked with Voldemort

surveying the crowd. Any known trouble causers could be taken to
Azkaban immediately. Draco stopped when he got to Pansy and he
smiled at her. She looked frightened, but she smiled back once her
eyes met his.

'My Lord?' Draco spoke confidently, and Voldemort stopped and

turned to him.

'Yes, Draco?' He asked, his voice imperial and majestic.

'I know the true allegiance of some of the students. There are one or
two I'm sure we don't need to lock up.' Draco said.

'Really? Who is it that you have this much faith in?' Voldemort asked.

Draco gestured to Pansy, who promptly went as white as a sheet.

'This is Pansy Parkinson. She's a very good friend of mine.' Draco

almost laughed as Pansy attempted a curtsy, he legs shaking.
'Pansy helped me when I came to Hogwarts yesterday. In fact, it was
actually Pansy who found the item you wanted.'

Voldemort was intrigued, mostly because it made him aware of just

how little he knew about Draco and his life when they were apart.
How strange to imagine that Draco had a friend who could help him
with something like that. He had never mentioned any of his friends
individually before. There was still so much to learn about Draco!

Voldemort nodded and extended his hand to Pansy. He briefly shook

her hand in greeting.

'A pleasure to meet you, Miss Parkinson.' Voldemort hissed.

Pansy thought she might faint. Amycus, beside her, thought he might
too.

'Thank you, my Lord.' Pansy said nervously.

'Do you want to stay here, Pansy?' Draco asked her outright.

'Errrr…' She began, unsure what to say. She glanced at Amycus.

Draco grinned at her.

'Pansy will stay here, with Professor Carrow.' Draco said. 'She'll be
able to help with any work there is to do.'

'Does this arrangement suit you, Miss Parkinson?' Voldemort asked

her.

'Yes my Lord. Thank you my Lord!' She replied and Amycus nodded
in agreement.

Draco thought that introduction had gone very well, all things
considered.

Snape coordinated some of the death eaters. Instructing them where

to take the children and how to secure areas of the school. He
exchanged a few parting words with Voldemort, who spoke to him
very cordially.

When Voldemort turned to speak to Bellatrix, Snape took the chance

to approach Draco. They stood a few feet from the others and spoke
quietly.

'Thank you, Draco.' Snape said, shaking Draco's hand warmly.

Draco smiled.

'Thank you !' He replied. 'Thank you for so many things, and
especially for coming to fight with us in the end.'

'With us ?' Snape echoed, a smile forming on his thin lips.

Draco blushed and Snape nodded. Of course it was ' us '.

'My loyalties are with you.' Snape said firmly. 'With both of you.'

Draco grinned. 'I'll see you soon, Severus.' He said as he released

Snape's hand and returned to Voldemort's side.

The chaos at Hogwarts beaten into some semblance of order, they

went to the ministry. Draco insisted that he cast a cleaning charm
over all of them before they departed as they were all dreadfully
dishevelled after the battle. It was becoming obvious right away that
Draco had a mind for public and diplomatic relations.

It was Draco, in fact, who made the first contact at the ministry.
Voldemort knew this would be safe as the upper echelons of the
ministry had been under his control for some time. They would meet
no resistance. However, to the masses who worked there, this
takeover would come as a shock. Voldemort arrived with Bellatrix,
Yaxley and McNair as an entourage, Grayback as a bodyguard and
Draco acting as an ambassador. Draco was a wonderful combination
of assertive and charming.
The ministry visit was as brief as it could be. It was simply to
establish control and make sure that the Daily Prophet ran the story
in the correct fashion. The real takeover would happen the following
day and the public knowledge of it would be very closely controlled in
the first instance until a firm grip had been well and truly established.

Exhausted as he was, and desperate to be able to be alone with

Voldemort, Draco actually found, to his surprise that he enjoyed this
visit to the ministry. He was delighted to discover his natural strategic
talents and found himself looking forward to the future with renewed
enthusiasm as he pictured a life in which he played a role that was
interesting and engaging to him.

However, he was beyond delighted when they left the minister's

office a little after 4pm and were at last able to depart! Voldemort
dismissed his followers.

'Go now, and celebrate the victory in whatever way pleases you.' He
hissed. Draco shot Bellatrix a knowing look, having a clear idea of
how she and Grayback were likely to celebrate!

Once they had left, Draco and Voldemort simply wrapped their arms
around each other and apparated in unison to the manor.

They arrived in the hallway, the sound alerting Draco's parents to

their arrival and they rushed from the drawing room to meet them.
They need not have bothered as it happened, as Voldemort and
Draco stood facing one another, oblivious to anything else that was
taking place around them.

Sometimes emotions are so overwhelming that there are no words

that do them justice. Draco and Voldemort flung their arms around
each other. The gasped for breath under the weight of all that they
were feeling. They were both laughing and crying at once.

Draco buried his face in Voldemort's robes, breathing in his smell,

loving the feel of his strong arms around him. Only hours before
Draco had wondered if he would ever want anyone to touch him
again. Now he knew the answer. He did. As long as it was
Voldemort. Back in his arms, in the folds of his robes, in his musky
aroma, Draco was back in his safe place. He was back on steady
ground. He felt alright again. He felt like he had been to hell and
back, but now, in this moment, everything was alright.

Lucius and Narcissa began to wish they had not been so hasty to
rush to the hallway, as this hug was a million times more awkward to
witness than the one that had taken place on the battle ground. They
were both relieved when Draco and Voldemort were shaken out of
their embrace by a loud hiss from the drawing room door.

Draco looked round, his eyes wet with tears, an exalted smile on his
face.

'Nagini!' He cried as he set eyes on the great snake. He ran to her,

dropped to his knees and flung his arms around her.

Narcissa was possibly more troubled by this than she was by seeing
him with the Dark Lord.

'Nagini! You bad snake!' Draco chastised, tears of relief in his eyes.
'We told you to stay here! You could have been killed! I'm never
letting you out of my sight again!'

Voldemort suppressed a chuckle. Even if Nagini had understood

Draco, she was about as likely to obey him as Draco was likely to
obey his parents. Voldemort hissed something in parsletongue and
Nagini slithered back to the drawing room.

Draco wanted to know what he had said. He got the feeling that they
were talking about him from the way Voldemort smiled at him as he
spoke. He did not get the chance to ask.

'We took the liberty of having some food prepared for you both. It is
set out in the drawing room.' Narcissa informed them. 'You must both
be exhausted. Lucius and myself are extremely tired but we wanted
to be ready to greet you on your return.'
She seemed so nervous and was behaving so formally. Draco felt a
rush of emotion and ran to her and hugged her. Voldemort smiled.
Draco was so emotional!

'Thank you, Narcissa, Lucius.' Voldemort hissed softly. 'Draco and I

are also very tired. We will eat and then rest. I suggest the two of
you rest also. There will be much work to do in the coming weeks.'

'Thank you my Lord.' Lucius replied. 'We will leave you and Draco in
peace to relax a little.'

With that, he took his wife's hand and they retired upstairs, much in
need of sleep. The rightness of leaving their son alone with his lover
was far from Narcissa's mind. They had all been through so much in
the last 24 hours, she had no energy left to worry about such trivial
matters. They were all alive. They were all safe. Nothing else
mattered, not really.

Voldemort took Draco's hand and led him to the drawing room.

The room was only dimly lit, which Draco was glad about. It was
calming and relaxing like this. The fire was glowing and it cast a
warm soothing light over the room. Nagini was coiled up beside the
hearth, enjoying the heat as a substitute for the warmer climate she
had once been used to.

'Are you hungry, Draco?' Voldemort asked.

'Yes.' Replied Draco. Normally somewhat apathetic about food,

Draco was aware that he had not eaten for some time and that his
body was struggling to recover from the trauma of the past day.

They sat down beside one another, so close they could probably
have shared one chair. They ate in silence. Draco felt the food
beginning to normalise his blood sugar and adrenalin levels. He
began to feel more lucid and focused and the reality of what had
happened that day began to become clearer.
Once they had eaten, Draco led Voldemort to the sofa by the fire and
they sat down. Voldemort wrapped his arm around Draco who
snuggled into his chest gratefully. He was suddenly aware that he
had not slept in nearly 36 hours.

'I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that, my love.' Voldemort

whispered as he stroked Draco's hair.

Draco sat up a little and turned to face him. He was tired, but he
wanted to talk far more than he wanted to sleep.

'I am glad I was there with you.' He replied. 'I will be from now on,
you know.'

'I have already realised that.' Voldemort said with a smile. 'I need you
to be with me I think. You are far better with people than I am. You
have a talent for public relations that I don't have.'

Draco laughed. 'Maybe.' He said.

'You don't have to tell me anything, love, but something happened to

you in the first part of the battle, didn't it?' Voldemort asked, stroking
Draco's face gently. He had felt Draco's pain intensely when their
minds had connected, but with all of the emotional interference going
on around them he had not been able to get a clear sense of what
had happened.

Draco froze, but only for a split second. He nodded.

'Two things.' He said. 'One of my best friends was killed. Pansy and I
were lucky to escape, but my friend Blaise was killed by fiendfyre.'
Draco had thought he would keep it together, but he began to cry.

Voldemort pulled him into a powerful hug. He didn't understand. He

had never had any friends, he couldn't really picture what Draco's
friends meant to him. But he loved Draco and he hated to see Draco
sad, so it mattered. It mattered very much, even if he couldn't
understand it.
Draco collected himself and sat back from the hug.

'The other thing.' He began. 'Potter. He assaulted me.'

'Did he injure you?' Voldemort asked with great concern, checking

Draco for any visible marks or wounds.

'It wasn't like that.' Draco said, tears filling his eyes again. 'He said
he wanted me… I thought he was going to…' Draco stopped
speaking and simply looked frightened. It was as if he were
confessing something dreadful that he himself had done. That was
how it felt.

Voldemort was not perhaps as surprised as he could have been. He

had at last figured out that Potter had been a horcrux. Perhaps that
was where any desires Potter had for Draco had stemmed from?
Potter had certainly been reading his mind from time to time, had he
acquired the emotions that way? It didn't matter. Either way, Potter
had hurt his beloved Draco yet again. This made Voldemort's blood
boil. However, Potter was dead, defeated, destroyed. He could never
hurt Draco again.

'I'm glad I killed him.' Voldemort hissed. 'I only wish it could have
been slower. Oh, Gods, Draco, are you really alright?' He almost
sobbed.

Draco nodded.

'I am alright now I am with you. Now I am with you and Potter is
gone, none of that stuff matters any more. It's the future that matters
now.' Draco said passionately.

' Our future, Draco.' Voldemort smiled and kissed the top of Draco's
head softly.

Draco and Voldemort didn't make it up to Draco's bedroom that

night. Instead they fell asleep on the sofa in each other's arms,
bathed in the warm red light of the fading fire.
When Narcissa wondered downstairs the following morning she was
rather taken a back to see them there. She stared for somewhat
longer than perhaps she should. The Dark Lord reclined against the
sofa arm and Draco lay against him, his head resting on his chest.
Draco's hand reached up and held on to Voldemort's shoulder lightly,
and Voldemort had a protective arm around Draco, keeping him safe
and secure. At length, Narcissa smiled and tiptoed out of the room,
leaving them to wake in private.

Draco's public speaking and tactical skills came in enormously useful

in the weeks that followed the battle. Voldemort's rule was fractious
at first, but Draco was instrumental in bringing calm and order. He
spoke to the people effectively and became the perfect 'acceptable
face' for the new political ideals. It was well known that he was the
Dark Lord's lover, but he had the charm, charisma and beauty which
are expected of a leader's spouse. People warmed to him and he
won the hearts of the masses.

Voldemort did not become minister for magic. Instead he established

a new role, above the minister, allowing himself absolute power, but
meaning that the day to day running of things could largely be
handled by his subordinates. After years of fighting and struggling,
there were more pleasurable ways in which he wanted to spend his
time now.

Pansy finished school with excellent NEWT grades. Amycus

proposed to her in the summer that followed her exams, and after a
conversation between Pansy and Draco, Amycus was offered a
comfortable office job in the new ministry. This suited him, as
teaching had never been a vocation for him. It suited Pansy too, as
fashionable London life appealed to her far more than being a
teachers wife in a remote school in the countryside. She was nearer
to Draco this way too. They were good company for each other,
making up for lost time and missed conversations over the last few
years. It was not uncommon to regularly see photos of the two
friends appearing in the style pages of various wizarding magazines.
Of course, the death eaters had sustained some losses during the
battle of Hogwarts, among them Rodolphus Lestrange. Bellatrix did
very little to mourn his passing beyond buying an extravagant new
gown to wear to his funeral. She vowed to honour his memory by
never marrying again. For a woman who had pledged to remain
single, she often had a suspiciously satisfied expression on her
face… particularly around the time of a full moon.

Snape remained at Hogwarts. Teaching was a vocation for him.

However, his life outside of his work became more diverse and lively.
In the holidays he made an effort to socialise with Lucius and
Narcissa, and to see Draco whenever he could. They formed the sort
of friendship that Snape had longed for. He also became friendly with
Pansy and Amycus. He found that he had somehow gone from being
very much a loner, to someone with a vibrant circle of friends. He
had to make an effort to balance his work and his social life these
days!

After the war, Voldemort began a formal courtship of Draco,

observing every pureblood tradition, paying him all of the courtesies
and showering him with all of the expected, traditional gifts. This
pleased Narcissa greatly, and although she has not yet been able to
make use of the large dining room for the type of event it was
designed for, it is likely that she soon will.

The air was warm and balmy and sunlight streamed through the
windows of the elegant townhouse that Draco and Voldemort stayed
in when they were in town. It was ideally placed in one of the nicest
residential areas of magical London.

Draco sat up on the bed. It was early morning and they had nothing
in particular they needed to do that day. Draco watched Voldemort
sleep. It was unusual. He knew Voldemort watched him sleep from
time to time, but he himself did not see the attraction. It was more
fun when they were both awake.

He leant in and began to kiss his neck gently.

'Wake up!' He whispered, pawing at him. 'Wake up, Voldy!'

Voldemort opened his eyes and gave Draco a disapproving look.

'If anyone ever hears you call me that… !' He warned scornfully.

Draco giggled.

'I'm sorry.' He said unapologetically. Voldemort sat up and stretched.

'No you're not.' He smiled.

'No.' Draco admitted. 'I need something to call you other than 'my
Lord'. 'Master' is only appropriate at certain times…' He gave a
saucy grin. 'And 'Voldemort' is kind of a long name to say.'

'I have never told you my old name have I?' Voldemort mused
wistfully.

'No.' Said Draco.

'Tom' Voldemort said, with no emotion in his voice. 'My name was
Tom'

Draco turned the name over and over in his head.

'You don't like it though, do you?' He asked at length.

'No.' Voldemort replied. 'It isn't really who I am any more. It doesn't
feel like me.'

'Well I can't call you that then.' Draco concluded. He paused. 'Voldy it
is!'

'ONLY when we are alone!' Voldemort clarified sternly, making Draco

giggle again.

'OK. I promise.' He said. 'It can be our secret. We're good at those.'
He smiled.
'Yes, I suppose we are.' Voldemort replied.

With that he took Draco in his arms and kissed him good morning,
losing himself in a moment of pure bliss. Voldemort felt Draco's lips
curve into a soft smile and he thought for a moment about just how
far they had come, just how wonderful this was. Life could not be any
more perfect than this.

Perhaps it was never meant to be like this, yet somehow, all was
well.

* * * The End * * *