Once again this chapter was co-written by the Maiden and the Crone!

The characters we are maltreating don´t belong to us! And lucky they are...

Chapter 12

Carnivore

Draco looked around at the preparations for the feast that he was holding in honour of Lord Voldemort honouring him; that was, when the Dark Lord would formally acknowledge him as second-in-command that very night.

The Hall had long dark tables laid out in much the same manner as a medieval meal; two or three were put end to end on each side of the stone room whilst one, draped with a black cloth, stood on a dais with a large throne behind it; the cushioning and décor of it matched the rest of the place perfectly. There was a smaller, plainer chair beside it as well, just like the others behind the tables.

A feeling of pride welled up inside Draco Malfoy, though where from he was not at all certain. He mused on it and wondered whether it was the sense of being powerful again that created it, though eventually he shook his head of the matter and turned around to stare into the roaring fireplace. It was there that a large, hulking figure, reminiscent of the physiques had by his old school friends Crabbe and Goyle, and he supposed that he was now looking at the father of one of them. It was the latter one he decided, as the facial expression, akin to the look of a stupefied troll, gave the game away.

"That pig looks awfully odd, Goyle," he noted a bit absently. "Smells a bit strange too."

"Er…" the dull eyes looked at him wonkily.

"Where the Hell did you get it from?"

The huge Death Eater struggled for a moment to co-ordinate his lips and tongue together to form speech, but when he managed it at last he slurred "…pig…?"

Draco sneered at the man somewhat disgustedly.

"You know, porcine animal, four legs, makes the same noises as you and offspring do? Oh, forget it…"

He turned to look at the thing on the spit; it was a golden brown colour and it dripped with fat that sizzled deliciously. The head was missing as it already had been lopped off clumsily at some point, and it was probably where the bloodstains in the cobbled yard outside came from, Draco thought. His eyes strayed to the small mousy boy who was struggling to the turn the beast over and over in the hot flames; he was skinny and red-skinned from the infernal heat, and whenever he stopped Goyle senior would hit him hard with a none-too soft fist.

"Get rid of the mudblood," Draco told the large oaf, "before the others see."

He had spotted the Death Eaters coming up the corridor for the pre-arranged meeting, although he supposed at the same time that Voldemort had summoned them via the Dark Mark as well. Where the Dark Lord was though was a mystery.

The men and few women entered the room in silence as they sat themselves down in ran order; when they had established that their Master was not going to appear out of nowhere and curse them all they relaxed and started chatting. Draco overheard threads about everything; Avery for one was yakking on about what he had done to the little muggle girl who lived just down the road from him, and someone, in all likelihoods Macnair, chuckled over a rent-boy or other and what had happened between them and his axe. It was all pointless talk and Bellatrix was loudly spouting off another rendition of torturing the Longbottoms to boot.

Draco looked to his right; the corridor that his fellows had entered the Hall by was empty, but when he looked to his left he saw with a start that the Dark Lord was already very nearly present. With some speed he pointed his wand at the ceiling and let off some sparks that were like purple firecrackers. It caught the attentions of the others who all looked at him irritably, but as he waved them to stand they got the hint.

They stood in silence and Voldemort swept in, staring around at his followers with a slight sneer. Draco bowed to him and muttered a reverence, acts which the rest of the Death Eaters hastily took up. They watched as their Lord and Master swept up to the top table and throne there; he did not sit down but bade the young blond and the black mass of wizards to do so instead. Only once he had the attentions of all and a quiet that one could hear a pin drop in did he start to talk.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," he said without needing to be loud, "such prompt appearances! We have a guest of honour tonight," his eyes flickered towards Draco, who was unabashed at the number of eyes that turned to him, "Our young friend here, Mr Malfoy, has received a great honour that I myself have bestowed upon him. He is now my second-in-command, and you will treat him as such on pain of great torture!"

The sounds of faint muttering started up around the Hall with the last few words, although most of the envy and frank disbelief was expressed in the usual gormless stares and dagger-deadly glares. Draco though just smirked, revelling in the fact that he was yet again one better than the majority of the population.

"I believe the main course is ready for this feast I have held for you, my Lord." He said quietly.

Voldemort smirked and signalled for Goyle senior to bring the strange shaped roast down to the Death Eaters. It had been manhandled onto a large platter with the spike of metal still thrust up inside of it, and it seemed like the great hulk of a man had even burnt his hands in the process. All the same, he lifted up the meal and carried it up to the Dark Lord and Draco, who speared slabs of ready carved meat off of the 'pig'; the latter was still pretty uncertain if it was one. However, nobody else, Draco saw on looking around, really expressed concern over the peculiar beast that they were now hacking into and dissecting. He shrugged and looked at his Lord; the snaky man was civilly cutting his serving into small pieces and was carefully chewing it, though his slitted eyes belied that he knew something to be amiss with the animal. He was still eating it though and taking small sips from the jewelled goblet at his elbow every now and then. Sometimes he picked at the bread that had also appeared from nowhere.

Draco sighed and started eating. He was alright with the meal itself once he got used to it, as were the Death Eaters, some of whom were getting up and taking second or third servings. The atmosphere remained rather relaxed; there was a moderate level of nattering about everyday things and mercifully the likes of the Lestranges were more interested in eating than boasting, for once. Even Draco managed to settle down and enjoy some small talk with Voldemort-or at least, did until a man with a long and twisted face held up a scrap of meat on a fork, eyeing it closely.

"This nipple is human," Yaxley finally said aloud to the Hall.

Everyone froze.

Then, not unexpectedly, the gathering erupted in a tumult of reactions. Some of the Death Eaters visibly turned green and started retching; they dared not to be physically sick in front of their Master and nor did they try to leave without his consent. This only made them look all the more ill as they tried to hold down the nauseous dinner in their guts. The likes of Avery were among this group, whilst there was another that just pushed their plates away, looking politely unwell. As for the rest, Bellatrix paused momentarily and then cackled maniacally; she threw aside her table manners and started to wolf down the meat without decorum. Yaxley was the same; he just shrugged and ate the nipple that was on his fork before he continued with his meal, as did Crabbe and Goyle senior.

At the top table on the dais the Dark Lord had stopped moving all that much. He had just swallowed a mouthful of the human flesh before he put his cutlery down slowly. He had picked up a napkin instead and then taken a sip of wine as he stared all the while around at his men. He placed the goblet down carefully and looked at Draco, who had himself stopped in his tracks.

The blonde was suddenly scared that he was going to be killed for such a thing happening. Having a human instead of a pig for dinner…he had no idea how his Master was going to take such a thing. Would it appeal to his warped and sadistic sense of humour or would it-?

The Dark Lord was laughing his typical high and cold, mirthless laughter. He leaned back on his throne an actually clapped his approval as well, which surprised his new second-in-command greatly.

"Bravo, Draco! A most excellent jest! Was it a mudblood or a muggle?"

Draco sat up suddenly and spluttered, "A…a mudblood, I think, my Lord. Greyback was not kind enough to give us a muggle for your meal."

Voldemort laughed and stood again, not noticing that several of his followers looked half-dead with biliousness. Still with a tight leer on his face, he said also, "And remember, any disrespect towards young Malfoy here and you will find yourself wishing you were never born!"

He started to dismount the stage and head for his chambers.

"Come, Draco!"

Draco scrabbled to his feet and followed hurriedly, yet he remembered to keep an arrogant poise as he followed his Master into the night.

Once in his Lord´s bedchamber Draco was forcefully thrown onto the large bed by the means of wandless magic, the mattress shaking under him like waves of the sea, the motion almost turning his stomach to free it of the offending meal. Within the blink of an eye he was naked and the Dark Lord crept slowly closer, a cruel grin on his face.

"Do you know, what you did to me, Draco?" he asked, his crimson eyes shining in the twilight, emphasising his sinister look.

"No, my Lord. Did I do something?" Draco asked nervously.

"Yes, you definitely did. Your jest was so very...stimulating." As if to prove his statement, the Dark Lord pressed his, now freed of his black robes, body against Draco"s to let him feel exactly which part he had stimulated. "Human flesh...it feels like an aphrodisiac to me. I can feel it rushing through my veins, filling me with strength and need. I feel like a beast of prey. I want to take you like an animal, Draco. Get onto hands and knees!"

Draco hesitantly complied, fearful of the strange gleam in his Lord´s eyes. He was not aware of what beast he had unleashed with his carelessness until the Dark Lord´s member ploughed into him without restraint. There was no foreplay, no preparation, no lube, no love, just pure, unadulterated want. It had been a long time since he had last been taken in such a brutal way, and his pained screams filled the room and echoed off the uncaring stone walls.

He did not dare complain or beg, for he knew that it was his own foolishness which had caused his Lord to cross the last boundary of humanity. Tears of regret formed in his eyes. He forced his shaking body to obey, as slightly tanned hands pulled him back until he came to rest on his knees, his head resting on his Lord´s shoulder. One hand held onto his hip while the other sneaked around and started to stroke his only half-erected member. Draco moaned with grateful pleasure when the sparks of ecstasy slowly eliminated the agonizing feeling of his torn muscle being pulled apart with every ferocious thrust.

Strong, white teeth sunk into Draco´s flesh, right in the curve of his neck, and elicited an anguished cry from him. His Lord´s tongue greedily licked over the stinging wound, lapping up the bloody tears his broken skin cried, while he continued his ruthless pounding. The sensation sent a thrill through his body, a thrill only the absolute submission to his Lord could create, a thrill which set his middle on fire until he spurted hot liquid onto the silken sheets. The youthful voice groaned in tortured pleasure beside Draco´s ear, as his muscles contracted around the hard shaft inside him, pulling him deeper as if his body tried to swallow the other alive.

Draco felt himself harshly being pushed onto his stomach, his skin sticking awkwardly to the puddle of cum underneath him, as the one on top of him thrust into him in a frenzy, filling his torn tunnel with his slimy seed. Their harsh breathing was interrupted by Draco´s pained hiss when his Lord, after having come to a stop already, suddenly pushed forcefully into Draco again, sneering at his reaction, before he pulled out. He was surprised when the mattress dipped, indicating that the other one had gotten up and within seconds a once again dressed Lord stood beside the bed.

"Get up, Draco! We have plans to make. Pleasure before business," he chuckled darkly.

Draco struggled to get up, wincing at his sore backside and the disgusting feeling of cooling sperm sticking to his skin in the most indecent places. He waited in vain for a quick cleaning spell of his Lord and grudgingly cast an insufficient Scouring Charm onto himself and dressed as fast as possible into the by the spell discarded clothes now lying in a heap on the floor, before he hurried after his Lord with as much pride in his stride as possible, considering the raw feeling between his legs.

They went through another door, which revealed itself by the touch of the Dark Lord´s hand, and entered a dim library, which was dominated by a large desk, covered in maps and parchment scrolls. Draco gaped at the many Dark Arts artifacts lined up on the shelfs between books on all kinds of magic. He had always thought that his father was having the most extended collection on Dark Arts, but his was nothing compared to what was stored in this room.

"This is my working room. Once I took you inside with me you can enter this room on your own also. You may study in here as long as you want and whenever I don´t need your services in other areas," his Lord leered at him.

They went to stand in front of the large desk, where Draco started to look over the maps laid out. They mainly showed areas of London, both Muggle and wizard, Hogsmead and the area surrounding Hogwarts, as well as some other areas in the south and west of Britain.

"I dealt the Order of the Phoenix its most painful blows already by killing their leader and taking over their..." the Dark Lord sneered evilly, "...knight in shining armour. It will not take much more before the Order falls and wizarding Britain is finally fully under my control. After Snape has turned out to be a traitor we have no spy within their ranks again, but we must find out the best way to decimate their numbers. According to my information there are no more than twenty of them alive at present. Here is a self-correcting list of the Order members we know to be alive."

Draco was handed a worn parchment, listing mostly Weasleys, some Aurors and a small number of people Draco had never heard about.

"They have a headquarter as far as I know from Snape. Why don´t we attack that one. We have more people fighting on our side." Draco asked, dropping the list on top of the overflowing mess of papers again.

"It is protected by a Fidelius Charm, but we know the area it is situated in - a shabby street in Muggle London. I believe it is the former Black residence they are using as headquarters. Unfortunately the house is invisible and unplottable because of the Fidelius on it." the Dark Lord snarled.

Draco frowned for some moments, before he addressed his Lord again. "Well, what if we would simply destroy the whole area. Like that we should be able to blow their headquarters up along with the Muggle houses. The Muggles have something called, uh, bombs, I think, which can destroy a whole building and even a whole street. And many of the Weasleys seem to be a part of the Order. We should raid their family house as well. That filthy vermin should anyway be exterminated."

The Dark Lord stared at him for some seconds before an evil smile twisted his face again. "Very good, Draco. I knew you have potential. The second task is to overtake the Ministry of Magic. Scrimgeour is somebody we have to take more serious than Fudge, the old fool. We have two of our people in the ministry, but nobody is close enough to the minister for an assassination to succeed for sure. He would not step down and as the former Head of the Auror Office he is trained in combat. We could try to use bombs as well in the ministry, but I am not sure how good their Detection Spells are. Basically the Aurors and Hit Wizards as well as the Order members are ready to fight against us. Alltogether their numbers should not exceed onehundred, whereas we have about the same number of Death Eaters."

"My Lord, I don´t want to be offensive, but I think many of our people need better training. The Aurors are trained for battle, as well as most Order members. Our people surely have experience, most of them at least, but they did not really undergo any form of training like the fighters for the light side." Draco remarked.

"You are right, Draco. My people revel more than fight. You are the second-in-command and I hereby assign you with the task of training our men, as well as the recruiting of new Death Eaters." The Dark Lord stared at Draco with a dangerous light in his eyes. "Don´t be mistaken, Draco. I want to see results, and I will not be reluctant to show you my displeasure if you fail your task."

Draco shuddered shortly, before he met his Lord´s malicious glance with fortitude.

"I will not fail you, my Lord!"

Coming ahead in the final chapter of Ad Finem - Until The End:

Warfare and desperate deeds in the name of love. Conclusion.

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The Bloody Wretched

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