Love's Corruption

It's strange really, that I'm standing here now. I turn my head and glance into the mirror before me. Long flowing silk robes roll from my shoulders to slender hips and ankle. Beneath the ebony mass flared leather trouser mould to my skin like a lovers caress and dragon hide boots peek out from beneath them. A black silk shirt clings to my defined chest and pale skin peaks out and the open throat of both robs and shirt. About my throat a newly hatched emerald eyed basilisk coils herself delicately and lays her head in the hollow of my collar bone. She is young and light but in less than two months she will already be a burden to my strong, lithe frame. She will grow fast. I flick my head to the side and watch as magpie blue ripples along the ebony mass that is my ever untameable hair, my eyes are lined with heavy kohl and the lids are half lidded in a well used seductive tilt. I stretch my lips and the plump dark red appendages slip open to reveal perfect white teeth and a treacherous tongue. My milky skin and finely high crafted cheekbones bear no blush and the famous emerald eyes I sport glint a deadly Avada green. I'm not worried, when I am angry they will flash with magic and my followers will cower, but now I am at peace in my suite. Relaxed, or as relaxed as I will ever be in this life.

My nose is delicate and upturned but on my left cheek a thin scar runs beneath the length of my eye curled into a cruel spiral at the outside corner where once a knife laid it open those many years ago, along the bottom edge of the scar tiny blue inked dots follow it perfectly. This is my own artwork.

I stretch long, slim fingers over a flat and tight skinned belly as I breath deeply. It's been so long. Months and months since I've seen any of these people and I wonder vaguely if they'll recognise what I am now. There's a soft knock at my door and my lover slinks in. He's smaller than me, loose platinum silver hair dusting his jaw line where mercury eyes peek out from beneath his bangs and delicate features grace a beautifully effeminate face. He is almost elven in looks and a born leader. He was Slytherin prince and the Black Princes consort once upon a time but although those titles still grace his entrance at the political balls he just Draco to me. Just my Draco.

"Dragon," I lilt in greeting and my voice is lower now. Deep velvet and midnight air combined into an tenor voice that I know thrills along his nerves like molten metal. His arms slip round me easily and I feel the love rippling from him alongside the need for my touch and reassurance.

He is cold as ice but his barriers and walls fall for me. I see the emotion swirling in those storm grey eyes where others would see naught but contempt. I won him, he is mine, and I will never let him go. I always wondered really, what it would be like to be his lover. Ever since I was young. Young and innocent. I am not innocent any more and I feel the trust he has in me. Trust that I will not hurt him, will not leave him.

I will never forget the day he came to me and fell to his knees before me.

There were tears in those crystal orbs and for once I wondered at the possibility of being able to see the future in them. He was crying, tears marring those beautiful cheeks and terror in the once emotionless eyes. Now his eyes are confident but still I see the hesitant movements in his life. He fears that one day I will tire of him, one day I will return him to the cell in Azkaban rumour holds is still labelled for the Malfoy heir. Fears I will forget him and leave him to rot. Leave him alone. That is what he fears the most I think. The complete isolation.

He has always been a social person; he grew up in politics after all, but now I am his only lifeline to the world he once knew. The world that ripped him apart and left him to crawl to me for forgiveness. For help. For love.

And I do love him. I have never told him, but he knows. I see it in his eyes every time he lays at my feet upon the daises that is my throne. He lays to my left and curled into a delicate feline ball. His skin is naked for the world to see but it is his soul that calls my eyes to him. He wears naught but an emerald satin collar now, studded with a smattering of silver flecks and glinting diamante patterns. It is a beautiful thing and he cries when I remove it so he can shower in the mornings and at night. He cries when I return it too but those tears are joyful. I will never really understand his love for the supple band that proclaims my ownership. He fears that maybe one day I will not put the collar back on for him. But he knows it is a childish worry that will always plague him. He knows he is mine. He knows also that I love him dearly though I have never told him. He will understand one day why I have never told him.

I took this place as Ruler of the Wizarding world so I could tell him I loved him. I needed the power to protect him. There are still some who believe he corrupted me. Whether with his body or his soul is their preference, but they will never know, for I will never tell. It was I who corrupted him those few months ago. My corruption that spread to him. Loves corruption.

And one day I may tell him too.

So far this is a one shot but I may go back and write a novel length fic for it if I have time and get the encouragement, (this is where you and that little button down below come in). Only on those circumstances though. Any one who likes it as just a oneshot can tell me too though and I will see what I can do.

Hope you liked it.