Chapter 5

Draco Malfoy woke up slowly and painfully. For a few moments he couldn't remember where he was, and that was more than disconcerting to him. As he opened his grey eyes to see one of his house elves leaning warily over his still form, he began to remember. Everything, all of it, Voldemort and that room, the snake, he remembered all of it. He opened his mouth and began to scream. The elf quickly covered his mouth; gently though; so as not to hurt him.

"Yous mustn't scream, Master, yous mustn't!" she said quietly. "It will brings him back, it will!" she whispered in his ear. Draco did his best to swallow the sound that he felt would burst his larynx if he didn't release it. The young elf watched his eyes closely and held her warm, dry hand upon his mouth until he had it under control.

"I's been watching over you, Master, for the whole night, and we's not much time now, Master, not much at all!" she whispered in his ear again. She waved towards his wardrobe and a loose-fitting outfit winged its way over to the large canopied bed. Draco watched in utter amazement as she managed to dress him without so much as moving him. He then gasped in shock when he saw one small bag had been packed for him.

"What are you doing?" he whimpered in fear. She looked at him calmly. Her large blue eyes filled with tears and hatred and fear.

"The old Master told me to watch over you, young Master," she said softly. Her voice seemed rough with unshed tears. "'Lilac,' he says, 'watch out for my grandson' he says, 'because my son is an idiot' Old Master said it, he said it he did!" she seemed as if she were going to burst with the need to punish herself.

"And you are allowed to repeat what he said, Lilac" Draco whispered, so she wouldn't have to punish herself. He knew he was going to have to digest this information, yet now was not the time. Potter may think that Draco was dim-witted and slow, but even Draco knew how dangerous this situation had become.

"He said it, and he meant it, Master Draco. He meant it because HE was NOT a bad man. He didn't want you to belong to him!" Suddenly, they both heard footsteps coming along the bare corridor outside his rooms. Lilac hid his bag and began helping him to sit up in the bed. Her eyes held a warning he didn't need. There was no way he was going to let anyone in the Manor know what she was going to do, or what she had told him.

Even under the Imperious he would die first.

His mother came sauntering into his bedroom, carrying a tray. The sight surprised Draco. His mother never did any kind of menial task when she had House Elves to do it for her. He looked up into her eyes and saw . . . pride. She was proud of him, but why for, Draco couldn't begin to guess.

Narcissa Malfoy was going to tell him, though.

"Draco, my son, you have pleased the Dark Lord well," she sighed, happily. Draco hadn't needed to look into the mirror over his dresser to know what he looked like. He could feel the bruises on his face and chest. He remembered, vividly, what Voldemort had done to his back with the whips.

He was afraid that the only reason he could even sit was because his butt was so damaged he'd lost all feeling there.

And Narcissa was HAPPY! Draco felt the urge to scream again, this time in rage and betrayal. She was his MOTHER! She was supposed to STOP what had happened, not encourage it! Draco started to open his mouth, but caught Lilacs' eyes upon him, and the look on her face helped him gain control. It would do no good to rail at her, it would only cause him to come back and do it all again.

"He is pleased?" Draco asked instead.

"Indeed, he has allowed your Father to come back to the Manor, he isn't even going to punish him, isn't that wonderful, dearest?" Narcissa leaned in and lightly kissed her son's temple.

"I know it was painful, dear, but the worst is over now," she caressed his arm lightly. She went on and on about how it wouldn't hurt so much the next time, because Dracos' body would know what to expect.

"As long as you don't make him angry, dearest, he won't even use the cat on you so often," she seemed to think that Draco understood what was being asked, nay demanded, of him. After everything Voldemort had done to him, Draco got the feeling he should understand what she was saying.

He didn't, though. He suddenly felt like he was breathing under water. He couldn't hear his mothers' words very well; it was like they were coming from far away and above him.

"After all, Draco darling, you're the Dark Lords' lover. This is a GREAT honor!" he heard these words and their meaning began to sink in. Then Voldemorts' words came back to him. Lucius had bought his freedom with his sons' body. Draco began to scream, then, and neither Lilac nor Narcissa could make him stop. He didn't stop until he lost consciousness.

When Draco woke this time, he remembered where he was and what had happened. He remembered because it was happening again, only this time in his own bed.

He was tied with his arms above his head and his knees under his chest. There was a bar between his knees, keeping his legs separated, painfully. His head was turned toward the door to his room, presumably so he could breath. He could see his mother and father fondling one another in that doorway as they watched their beloved Dark Lord sodomize their supposedly beloved son.

Draco wasn't sure why he wasn't screaming still, he only knew his throat hurt as badly as his butt. Draco felt Voldemorts scaly hand pumping his penis vigorously. Draco didn't even wonder why he was getting hard this time; he was too tired to care.

He didn't even whimper when Voldemort began pounding into him.

Draco did his best to help Lilac clean him up before she redressed him, in different clothes. He knew she was going to get him out of the Manor, although he didn't know how. He also didn't know where.

"Where are we going, Lilac?" Draco asked hoarsely. His body ached so badly, he wasn't sure he could move.

"Yous not going to like it, Master," Lilac said warily. Yet there was a steeliness in her voice that let Draco know she would not be gainsaid. Then Draco understood what she was saying. Before he could even begin to argue, she grabbed his bag, jerked his hand with it, and snapped her fingers.