JK Rowling owns everything, if she wants the credit for this story she can take it, i'd be honoured. Otherwise im not making any money from this. They belong to her, i just like to make them do naughty things.

A/N- Hi I'm not sure whether there's a place out there for this story but i hope there is, there will be sexual situations between our boys and others if this makes you angry or, well, if you don't want to read it, don't. I wont mind. Promise. It also contains strong sexual situations, Mpreg and a very Dark!Harry. If that's your bag, take it!

Also, a big thanks to my wonderful beta cluelesschase!

"That boy is dangerous, My Lord."

Lucius sat in his study. A snifter of cognac was in one hand and something similar to a cigar in the other. Across from him, in a winged leather chair much like his own, sat Voldemort.

"Indeed he is. But we need him, and I have a plan." Voldemort's hands were empty, crossed over each other on his lap. He refused the vices that could mar his new, perfect body. After three years of slitted eyes and the lack of a nose, he had developed a method of obtaining a body very similar to the one he would have possessed had he never come across Potter. He now carried a knowledgeable air only enhanced by the beginnings of lines defining his face and the spattering of grey hairs that traced his auburn hair locks; his features were refined.

"Would you care to enlighten me as to what that plan is? Your followers begin to lose patience. They won't fight this war forever, My Lord." Lucius' tone was respectful and inquisitive. He reminded Voldemort of a faithful hound sometimes.

"They must have faith; I refuse to coddle anybody. I will tell you only what you need to know."

They sat in the study for long hours discussing what Voldemort was willing to reveal, in great detail. Finally, in the small hours of the morning they began to wrap up.

"It will be difficult to break off the arrangement with the Parkinsons. They were relying on this match to return some credibility to their weakened name."

"Nevertheless it shall happen. I require Draco; no one else will do. Can you make him agree, Lucius?" The glare accompanying this question was penetrating.

"Of course My Lord; he is your servant. Though perhaps he does not need to be pre-informed?"

"Potter!" Draco was sprinting after Harry down the corridor. "Potter wait! The Dark Lord wishes to speak with us." A week had passed since Draco had witnessed Harry pounding Aden into the mattress.

Harry stalled and turned to face the messenger. "Now?"

"Of course now! When did you think?" The question was sarcastic.

"Malfoy, putting up with your lack of humour was not a requirement of the deal."

"That wasn't humour, Potter, it was exasperation. Now come on. I would rather not keep him waiting." And with that, they once again made their way to the tactical room, this time seating themselves in the two chairs available at the table.

"Potter, I have called both you and Draco here today so that we can discuss an act of faith. Something that will prove our loyalties to each other," Voldemort sat at the head of the large impeding table that was much too large for the room in which it was placed. Harry was not the only one who favoured rooms built to intimidate.

"We have an arrangement. Is that not enough?" Harry did not want to assist them in binding him to their cause with another rope.

"It was. But now my men fear that you are given too much freedom and that you may wish to turn against us."

"Then your men are stupid. What use is turning against you to me?"

"Many of my men are simple. They do not see things as they are. To them, you are still Dumbledore's man."

Harry rose from his chair, eyes flashing a frightening neon green. He pointed down the table at Voldemort, "Never mention his name in my presence again!"

"Of course; my apologies. I did not mean any disrespect."

Harry lowered himself back into his seat, though his eyes did not turn back to their normal shade.

Voldemort continued, "This arrangement is mutually beneficial. I believe you will see it as agreeable."

"I will be the judge of that. What is it?"

"I wish for you to accept Draco as your consort."

Silence reigned through the room for many minutes. Harry and Draco both were shocked, though only those who knew Draco well could tell. He had his mask in place, but inside he was in turmoil. So this was to be his path; Potter's wife. He had been given as a sign of goodwill. No doubt the Dark Lord had plans for him; he was probably going to spend the rest of his days lying in Potter's bed, whispering plans and lies to him. Manipulating him to do Voldemort's will. He hated it. But he had no choice; he would serve his Lord faithfully. His reverie was broken by Potter.

"My consort? I wasn't aware I was in need of one."

"It would prove your goodwill to me. Offering my General's son to you is a great honour. It will aid appearances greatly."

"It's a control technique. I accept; but do not think that you can use this to heel me."

"I never thought I could. You shall be bound in a fortnight."

"As you wish." Harry rose to leave. Halfway to the door he turned back to the occupants of the table. Draco's face was blank, Lucius' gaze lowered to the table. Only Voldemort met his eye.

"I will be in my rooms. Do not attempt to speak to me for the rest of the day." He paused, and shifted his eyes to Draco. "I will be... busy."

He felt no need to elaborate. Everyone in the room knew that his concubine would be receiving a thorough workout.

"Of course." Voldemort dismissed him.

Later that night Harry lay in bed, eyes drooping from exhaustion. Aden had indeed received a thorough workout, and was currently curled into his side, sleeping deeply. Harry had no idea why this new turn of events was affecting him so. It wasn't like he had to love Malfoy. He was just a symbol. They would be sharing a bed but Harry was not required to sleep in it every night. He would still have his playthings. But something about it was disturbing him and he couldn't sleep.

Untangling himself from Aden, he donned his robe and left the cold chamber.

On the other side of the manor, Draco was also still awake, thinking over the day's events. After the meeting with the Dark Lord, Lucius had taken Draco aside and explained the situation. He would indeed be required to manipulate Harry from their bed. Not only that. He was required to become pregnant as soon as possible. He had no idea what his Lord wanted the baby for. Perhaps another manipulation technique. His father had been cold and forthright. This was Draco's duty and he was to treat it as such.

After that discussion Draco had made his way to his rooms, only to find his mother waiting there for him. "Draco darling, your father has informed me of what is to happen."

"I'm sure he did," Draco headed straight for his personal liquor cabinet. Removing a decanter of Ice Gin, he poured himself a large glass and sat at his desk. He took a large swill, hoping that as the freezing liquid numbed his body, it would numb his mind and emotions too.

"There is much I have to teach you. Normally, consorts are trained their entire lives for the purpose. As this is not the case, we must work through an intensive program so that you can learn how to execute the Dark Lord's plans for you."

Draco poured himself another large glass, having already finished the first. "Mother. This isn't the time. We can discuss it tomorrow." He skulled the second glass as well, savouring the feel of the frigid liquid sliding through his body. Ice Gin was similar to Firewhisky; it maintained a constant temperature, though its purpose was to decrease feeling instead of enhancing it; as was the aim of Fire Whisky.

"Draco, be reasonable. We must start immediately. Put that awful drink away. You have little tolerance for alcohol and we have much work to do."

"Don't tell me what to do. I am no child." Draco's tone was not angry but subdues.

"You're remarkably good at pretending then. Put the liquor away and come here. We shall start with the hard part and move backwards. That way you won't be stressing about sex the entire time."

She didn't notice as Draco's hand tightened around the glass. Ice Gin also moved into the bloodstream at an astonishing rate.

Narcissa continued, "Now as you know you will be the submissive partner of the relationship. Hence the title Consort instead of-"

"Get OUT! Now, mother! Leave and come back tomorrow. I will not discuss this with you now!" Draco interrupted her.

When she failed to move, instead treating him to the patent Malfoy death stare, he decided to augment his statement by throwing his empty crystal glass at her, barely missing.

"DRACO! I will not suffer your immature temper tantrums. Calm down!" Her actions spoke differently however, as she made her way slowly to the door.

"Leave! I will talk to you tomorrow!" When Narcissa still failed to open the door and exit, Draco picked up the decanter and flung it at the wall next to her.

His message got across this time, and she fled, leaving Draco to wallow in his misery without the comfort of gin. And so now, he was still lying on the bed wondering where the moment of temporary insanity had come from. There would be repercussions tomorrow. Deciding that he needed fresh air to clear his head, he departed his rooms.

A/N hope you enjoyed; please let me know what you think!
-Andy