A/N: Posting this again due to the fact that there seemed to be something wrong with the format on the last chapter.

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"Come on," DeLance tugged slightly at the leash and started on down one of the many corridors of the building.

Left with not much choice, Riddle followed him in an effort to avoid being choked by the collar. The only thing he was thankful for was that the Ministry seemed to be more or less deserted so close to Yule. Once more his thoughts drifted to his current predicament. Did the whole of wizarding world know about his fate or had Dumbledore and the brat spun some tale about his defeat and everyone thought him to be vanquished as the prophecy proclaimed? Then again, how would they explain that Potter was hauling around a slave at the end of a leash in public. The conclusion would therefore be that it was highly likely that the Wizarding world knew exactly how the powerful Dark Lord had been defeated.

Humiliation coursed through him at the thought of just how low he had fallen. Forced to obey both Dumbledore and the Potter boy unless he wanted to be constantly in pain. Forced to act as a slave in front of the world he was meant to rule.

Then again, he thought as he stared at the back of the man he was following, things could be considerably worse. The four months in Azkaban being tortured and abused by the man in front of him had made it clear to him that it could have been much worse than his current situation with Potter and Dumbledore. His thoughts unbidden went back to the time in Azkaban - the pain, hunger and utter helplessness and he could feel a slight panic creep along his spine as he thought of having to spend any more time with DeLancer.

Lost in thought he didn't notice they had arrived at what he assumed was DeLancer's office. There was a front office, which Riddle assumed was meant for the man's secretary. The desk looked like it was occupied, but perhaps the person (Riddle assumed it was a woman) was running errands. Another tug on his leash and he was led into the office beyond.

It was tidy and mostly void of clutter and papers. Only a few books and some scrolls gave the desk a feeling of actually being used. The brown desk was pushed towards the back of the office, facing the door. A large leather chair behind it and two visitors' chairs in front. The wall to the right was filled with bookshelves which was more or less filled with books. Windows on the opposite side let in the cold December light.

As they crossed the threshold to the office, they were met with a fireplace on the wall to the right with a low coffee table in front. A couch and two armchairs made up the rest of the furniture in the room. The floor and walls were made up from dark wood panels, while most of the floor was covered with a large rug.

"Down, pet," DeLancer said pulling at the leash to emphasize his words. Swallowing down the humiliation Riddle hesitated for a beat. The reaction from the man in front of him was lightning quick, however. The backhand across his face came as a surprise and Riddle ended up on the floor. A blooming pain across his face and along with the feeling and taste of blood his mouth made him wince and raise a hand to gingerly touch his chin. Before he could manage to move, a hand latched onto his collar and dragged him to his feet before slamming him against the wall. Despite his best effort, Riddle couldn't contain the groan from emerging as the wooden panels dug into his back.

"I don't know what Potter expects of you, but from your behavior it can't be much. It seems the boy is far to lenient with you if you can still be this defiant after everything I taught you." The last sentence was underlined by DeLancer pulling him forward away from the wall before knocking him back against it, making Riddle's head crash into the wall and stars appearing before his eyes. Great, just what he needed, a concussion.

Abruptly, DeLancer let go, and Riddle, still seeing stars, crumpled to the floor as he couldn't get his feet under him fast enough. He landed in an ungraceful heap and groaned, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. Merlin how he hated the blasted man. A thought of fear latched onto him at the thought of this being his day to day life, which it probably would, if the Ministry managed to find a way to take him back under the excuse that Potter couldn't control him.

A kick to his stomach sent him flying and he curled up trying to breathe through the pain. At the moment he wasn't sure who he hated the most, DeLancer or Dumbledore, the cunning old fool. There was no chance in seven hells that Dumbledore didn't know who DeLancer was. The question was if this was some elaborate plan to show him how much worse it could be if the Ministry managed to get him back, not that he could easily forget the four months in Azkaban, or payback for his 'poor' behavior.

If he still had been in possession of his powers and status, he would have been tempted to recruit DeLancer as one of his followers. The man's talent for violence and torture equaled several of Lord Voldemort's most fanatic followers. Speaking of which, he still didn't know what had become of his followers.

"Get up."

Riddle drew in another deep breath and pushed his hands against the floor. The first attempt failed miserably, but at the second try he did manage to push himself into a half sitting, half kneeling position. Lifting his eyes, he glared at DeLancer. He regretted the action a second later when a hand grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head backwards. Hissing in pain he clenched his teeth.

"If it hadn't been for the fact that your master will be picking you up in a couple of hours, I would be tempted to bend you over my desk and teach you a lesson in manners." The implication and flashback to Azkaban made Riddle freeze, his breath caught in his throat. Panic slowly uncurling as he watched the man's magic twirl and twist as it darkened with ill intent and that strange color that normally was present in the Minister's magic every time Riddle met him. In that moment he suddenly realized what it was, desire.

"Of course, there are always other ways of doing so," the man smiled as he brushed his hand along Riddle's chin and over his lips. The panic bloomed and Riddle snapped his teeth trying to bite. The horrification of what he had been stupid enough to do hit him when the bond sent a strong wave of pain through him at his attempt to harm, just before the red flash of the Cruciatus curse hit him.

He managed to keep silent for a couple of seconds, but when the man didn't let up on the curse he screamed, clawing at the carpet on the floor. The pain was not as bad as the pain from the bond, but it was enough to render him flat on the floor once it was lifted. He gasped and curled in on himself. A part of his brain wondered why the Auror's weren't storming into the office until he came to the conclusion that using the curse on an object wasn't illegal and by law he was currently considered nothing more than a possession.

The hand returned to his hair and his head was once more pulled back. "Don't ever try to bite me again or I will pull out your teeth. Understood?"

Riddle drew air into his lungs, trying to get enough to speak. DeLancer, however, didn't seem to have the patience to spare and shook him. "Understood, pet?"

"Y… yes," Riddle finally managed to force out through gritted teeth.

"Yes, what? This is getting tiresome, and you know better than this." The tone was mocking and it grated. The feeling of helplessness washed over him again along with the feeling of despair. For the first time he actually hoped Potter could hurry up with the meeting and come and get him.

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." DeLancer finally let go and walked over to his desk. Sitting down he pulled a scroll towards him along with a inkwell and a quill. A strange sound of paper scraping towards the floor made Riddle twitch slightly as a paper mouse came crawling through the space between the floor and the door. It was followed by several others. Once they were on the right side of the door they transformed into airplanes and sored through the room before landing on DeLancer's desk where they turned into flat papers once more.

Riddle assumed the different colors represented the different departments at the Ministry, but they could of course also represent different degrees of urgency. His mindless pondering was cut short by the door opening and a young witch entered. Her sand blond hair was pulled tightly back into a knot and she was dressed in pretty blue robes that showed of her curves.

"Sir, would you-," she stopped short when she caught sight of Riddle curled up on the floor with a split lip and what he assumed was a rapidly forming bruise on his cheek. "Sir?" she asked with uncertainty, apparently not expecting to find a bruised and bleeding man on her superior's office floor with a collar and leash.

"Melinda," said DeLancer. "There is nothing to worry about. I'm simply babysitting Lord Potter's pet while he is in a meeting with the Minister. I can assure you he is quite harmless. Or he can bite so I would not advise you to try and pet him." Riddle could feel humiliation run through him at the words. Slowly he tried to get back up to a half sitting, half kneeling position. He assumed that any attempt to trying and stand would not be well received.

"I- but… sir, is that..?" The woman had turned white as a sheet and was trembling slightly. Her eyes were huge as she stared from Riddle to DeLancer and then back. Riddle lowered his eyes to the floor, feeling slightly sorry for the poor woman.

DeLancer cut her off before she could ask again or flee the room. She seemed torn between the two options. "Melinda, he can't hurt you." Then turning his eyes towards Riddle he commanded: "Come here, pet."

Knowing that disobeying would only lead to more pain, Riddle slowly managed to get to his feet, picking up the leash with one hand and moving over to where DeLancer was sitting. Once he reached the chair he slowly knelt back down, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"So obedient with the right motivation," teased DeLancer. Riddle clenched his fits but managed not to react much more than that.

"Yes, sir, if you say so." She sounded all but assured that she was in no danger, but at least she did manage to complete the sentence. "I-I just wanted to know if you would like lunch brought up?"

The thought of food made Riddle realise how hungry he was. The meagre breakfast he had managed to get down before they left hadn't been much. However, the chance of DeLancer feeding him he assumed was zero.

"Yes, please, Melinda."

Riddle couldn't see Melinda, but he presumed she had turned to leave.

"What-what about … him," she suddenly asked. How considerate of her Riddle thought.

DeLancer glanced down at him. Riddle held his breath wondering. He knew Potter would give him something to eat later so it wasn't like he would be going hungry. Considering how often DeLancer fed him in Azkaban Riddle didn't actually believe he would give him anything now. Which made DeLancer's words even more surprising. "Bring something for him too."

"Yes, sir." The sound of the door closing told Riddle she had left.

"I guess it wouldn't do to let Lord Potter think I haven't looked after his pet." The muttered words almost made Riddle snort. Looked after?

Suddenly DeLancer stood and pulled Riddle up by the leash and over to one of the walls. There was a filing cabinet in the corner. Tall with seven draws. On top and on the floor in front there were tall stacks of files. "I guess it would be best to keep you active, so you have less time to consider being disobedient. If you can manage to sort and file these correctly, I'll let you have something to eat. Your master will be busy for most of the day with meetings, so you have plenty of time. Get to it."

Riddle sank back down to his knees with a sigh. Great, more menial tasks. Be thankful it's not more torture a small voice in his head whispered.

By the time Potter came to collect him Riddle had managed to finish the job DeLancer had set him to and had eaten a couple of bites of a ham and cheese sandwich which DeLancer had hand-fed him. The only reason he hadn't refused the food was because he assumed that would lead to more pain and he had had enough for one day. Combined with the lack of sleep due to the nightmares and the stress of pain, he was starting to feel sleepy and the last hour he had been kneeling beside DeLancer's chair and almost dozing.

The sound of the door opening brought him back to full awareness. The sound of heels against the wooden boards announced the presence of DeLancer's secretary. "Sir, Lord Potter is here for his," she hesitated, "eh… slave."

DeLancer put down the quill he had been writing with. "Of course, please send him in." Standing up he pulled at the leash. Closing his eyes briefly, Riddle stood to follow him. The man moved over to one of the armchairs by the fireplace and Riddle knelt down beside him. A couple of seconds later Potter swept in the door. Riddle glanced up and watched the exhaustion and frustration that twirled in the boy's magic.

"Mr. DeLancer, thank you for looking after Tom." The boy stopped and Riddle could see him taking in the still forming bruise on Riddle's cheek which added to the bruises from the day before and the split lip. "I hope he have behaved himself?"

DeLancer crossed one leg over the other and leaned back into the chair. Riddle had a sudden urge to run over to Potter. "He has been relative obedient except from trying to bite me. You will have to excuse the bruise; I am afraid I reacted before I could think."

"Is that so," Potter said, his voice turning as dark as his magic as he moved his eyes from DeLancer to Riddle. Riddle swallowed. The memory of the punishment Dumbledore had administered the last time flew through his head and he shivered.

"Other than that, he has been well behaved. Amazing to consider he is the darkest wizard of our time. Without his magic, followers and free will there really isn't much of Lord Voldemort left.

Unfortunately, Riddle could agree with that sentiment, considering how far he had fallen in the last five months. He could barely recognize himself.

Potter nodded. "Yes. I do apologise for his poor behaviour. I would have thought his latest experience would have discourage anything like this. Tom, come here." At the order Riddle could feel the bond come to life and push at him to obey. Rising slowly, he walked over and knelt in front of Potter. The familiar warmth washed over him. Greet your masterthe annoying and unhelpful voice whispered in his head.

"Oh, don't worry, My Lord, he's still pushing at his boundaries. I'm sure he'll settle eventually. He just needs someone to take him in hand and set some rules and limits. Until next time."

Riddle wanted to strangle the man so bad his hands twitched. Potter bid him goodbye and picked up the leash. "Come, Tom."