Chapter Trigger Warnings: lewd comments/suggested rape, implied torture

Chapter 115:

Mentor Accords

Draco startled next to his girlfriend, without meaning to. He tried to smooth his robe down, cover his motions. It didn't quite work as well as he wanted to, given the odd look McGonagall gave him. Thank Merlin it was just McGonagall and not Carrow.

He wanted to remove himself from the room, answer the call, but he couldn't. It would raise too many questions. It doesn't help to cease his nervousness nor his concern. For the bond to be flaring now.

"Mr. Malfoy, my office."

Glancing up, he realized he had spaced again. Bloody hell, he was losing his touch; he needed to be focused, now more than ever. She was appraising him carefully. All others were seemingly working on their assignment, but he knew they were paying attention; eavesdropping.

"My office."

He stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder, moving towards his Professor's door.

"Mr. Malfoy; pull yourself together and solve what you need to. Quickly."

He nodded at McGonagall's murmured, firm statement.

It had only been a quick burn, telling him she hadn't actually had time to request help. But it was enough to let him know something was wrong. Dangerously wrong, given recent events.

He couldn't reverse it; not without alerting whomever she was with or making whatever situation she was in worse.

Ariella's pained gasp ripped through her pained throat as her pained body was thrust onto the marble floor.

"How was she?"

"Decent enough, for a talentless servant. I doubt she'll cause you much trouble anymore. If she does," a long, jagged fingernail ran down her cheek. She shuddered; a sob escaped. "I'd be more than happy to take her off your hands again."

"Noted. Now…get out of my house, you filthy mongrel."

"Later sweetheart."

"Now. Are you going to behave?"

"Yes, Sir. Please...I'll behave. Just…not again."

"You'll do what I ask now? Without complaint? Or challenge?"

"Yes, Sir. I swear it. Just…please don't send me back with him."

"Exactly what I wanted to hear. Now, go next door. It's time you furthered your service with me."

Draco waited. He wished he knew more, had better control. Over the bond and over himself. His aunt, his father had taught him better than this.

But when nothing happened, Draco knew he had to move on. He had another class to get to. One that would not forgive him for being late.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He turned. "Professor. Thank you for trying."

"You need to get to your next class. Lestrange will not be forgiving, as you well know."

"Why? Why help me do this, Professor?"

"You are my student, Mr. Malfoy."

"That can't be it. Many have been your students."

"You have not been lost."

"Pardon?"

"You took the Dark Mark to save your family. You care about a girl who by all accounts, you should despise, should not care for. Mr. Malfoy, I have had many students; I have also lost many."

"To the Dark Lord."

"Among other things."

"So why still help me?"

"You are still my student. We may not show it, but we do care for our students. We try to guide best we can."

He stayed silent for a moment as a woman he had admired and even slightly feared spoke. He turned, raising his head to meet her gaze.

"Thank you, Professor."

"Go on; before you're truly late for class."

All contact from the Manor had been reduced further. He wasn't sure whether to be concerned or grateful for the lack of contact. Then again, with how closely letters were being monitored, how closely all contact was being monitored, he wasn't fully surprised.

Still, he felt he had to chance it now. The bond had been sending him…alarm bells of sorts. Warnings, intermittently, for the last week and a half. It was enough. He knew the dangers of what awaited him at home. At this point, there wasn't a large difference in the dangers.

Going through the headmaster's floo, the first thing he noted was how quiet it was. Far too quiet.

"Koop!"

A familiar pop sounded in front of him.

"What is Master Draco needing of Koop?"

"Where is my father?"

"Koop is finding Master in study."

"And Ariella?"

"Koop is not knowing that, Sir."

Draco breathed out slowly. It wasn't the house elf's fault.

"Thank you," he said quietly, striding to his father's study, encountering less obstacles than he would have expected.

He rapped sharply on the door, before letting himself in.

"Draco? Why are you home?"

"We need to talk frankly, Father."

"You've grown bolder. Alright; what's so important you left your education?"

"You need to ask?"

Lucius leaned back, a sneer coming across his knowing face. "Our little pet."

"You're loaning her out now?"

"Just a few times. She needs to learn and hone her supposed skills, since the bond's recent changes. It also happens to be a beneficial tool to building alliances and bargains, especially now."

"I respect you, Father. I do. But we see very differently on how she is treated and trained. She has done everything I have ordered of her. She is not being purposely insolent. Not anymore. More importantly, Father, as you have repeatedly requested of her, she has obeyed every command of mine and served me in every way that both I and the bond have recently requested of her. Why isn't that enough for you?"

Lucius regarded his son silently. Never had he wanted his son to have to join a war effort like he had. Yet here they were. And for some reason, he considered their servant part of his family.

Then again, once upon a time, Lucius himself might have considered the girl family. But that was a long time ago. Much had changed since they had graduated Hogwarts, let alone between then and now.

"What is it you want, son? Last I checked, she is tied to all Malfoys, not just you."

"I'm not asking for that." Not now, at least, he thought privately, though he was sure his father could sense it. But that was for another time, if it even was a possibility. "I'm asking to allow her return to her original position of being a growing servant for me. She is still useful to me, can go places I cannot."

"What do I gain by doing that? By allowing her to return with you?"

"A better-served son. A set of eyes and ears where you cannot be, among those who don't trust you."

"And you think they'll talk around her."

"Their spells are far weaker than yours. She's more competent than you give her credit for. They'll talk because they, like you, think her inept."

Once again, Lucius regarded his son silently. His boy was growing, learning (finally) the lessons Lucius had attempted to instil in him from the start.

"I will allow her to return with you under two conditions. First – she comes when summoned. I still have use for her here."

"Fine. The second?"

"You provide proof of her obedience. And yours."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Proof that you are willing to fulfil the requirements, the demands of the bond. And that she'll comply, as you said, without fuss."

"Done," Draco replied, perhaps too quickly, if his father's smirk was anything to go by. He wasn't even sure precisely what he was agreeing to, but it had to be better than the current situation.

"She's in the middle of a task. I'll send her over once it has been completed. Now, I suggest you return before you're missed."

"Yes, Sir."

Draco turned and walked towards the door, back straight. However, just as he opened it, he paused, slouching just a bit. "Father?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."