Draco was dressed and ready well before six thirty. He wore slim fitting dragon-hide pants with a wide belt buckle. His chest was bare but a simple leash and spiked collar finished his ensemble. A touch of kohl to enhance his eyes and he magically transfigured two books to his back for a workable set of wings. Take that McGonagall.

Draco sneered and tousled his hair to the desired effect. This is it, Malfoy. Best game-face you've ever had. No matter what. Draco nodded once to the mirror already singing his praises and lazily cocked his hip so he could push on the tattoo that was slithering around his hip at his touch.

Wassat? Oh…hi Draco. Early much? Wow..you look…very nice.

Draco smirked slightly and replied. I always look nice. But my mission is to entice the devil himself if need be. I just wanted to make sure you know what you're doing but you obviously do.

Of course I do. You're pretty nervous aren't you?

Am not.

Whatever. That's not important. Just make sure your Occlumency shields are up at ALL times do you hear? It's imperative that they don't pick up another presence in your mind.

Got it. Can you stay awhile and chat? I'm in need of a distraction.

Determining it was okay to let him know he was in the same year, Harry and Draco debated the finer points of one of the many long term potions assignments Snape assigned, making the summer holiday virtually impossible, especially since some of the potions they brewed would take daily stirring and careful conditions for most of their preparation process.

Six thirty rolled around, and it was no or never. Wish me luck, Link.

Stop being such a drama queen. You'll be fine. I'm here, remember?

Draco smiled softly as he put his feathered Death-Eater half mask and stocked on his emotional mask by the tenfold.

Ready to go.

Draco strolled into Voldemort's bedroom, deciding to make a joint appearance to influence his power-sway over the crowd. United we stand, or some shit like that. Draco mused. He allowed his thoughts free-flow, especially if Voldemort decided to become curious. Debating the pros and cons of blackmail and who and what exactly to influence most, he was deep in thought for his supposed take over of the Inner Circle when Voldemort chuckled amusedly. "My pet, it is time. Are you ready?" Draco smirked and kissed the older man's neck. "Are you kidding? I was born ready to take over." Tom issued a rare smile and took the proffered leash before dropping it. "Come my pet. You shall walk as my equal. I have a desire to see your power planning in effect. It shall amuse me when I grow tired of their bickering later on."

At that, Voldemort took out a small urn of floo powder and clearly said, "Sanctum Vitae." Draco laughed when Voldemort and thought cruelly, I doubt much life goes on in there. He shook his head for a minute and flooed to the correct location, reassured by a gentle wave of comfort from Link.

The Sanctum Vitae, or the Sanctum of Life, was truly magnificent. It seemed like it was an ancient worship place. Across the long gleaming onyx floor, a massive pure white altar stood proud made of the finest and purest white marble. The columns that held the place up were a deep mahogany, and gleamed in unsurpassed brilliance as one of the many torches from the walls hit them. The walls themselves were covered in moving frescoes dating well back to the Romans, as score upon score of heroic figures played out their history in the mythological wonderland displayed. That was, except for the wall behind the altar.

A ceiling that was charmed like Hogwarts had a soft night sky displayed. The night sky shifted, it seemed, down into the wall behind the altar, where steady waves could be seen. A variety of sea creatures swam and lurked about, as the coral swayed gently on the sea floor. A glimmer would flash by occasionally, which was an obvious deduction of merpeople.

Refocusing on the altar in a bored, appraising glance, he noticed that it had a red sheen to the top of the altar. Upon casting a closer look, he noticed that it wasn't a magically applied sheen. Nope, that was accumulated through good old elbow grease. He wondered just how many people have died in that exact spot. Hundreds, probably thousands, now that he was weighing the odds. This looks like a Roman temple, so that's thousands right there, and whatever other sadistic bastard procured it after that.

He applied an amused smile with a coy lilt to his voice. "Master, no slave girls? No harem? I'm disappointed." Voldemort smiled cruelly. "My pet, if you so wish it, you may travel the world to find a suitable harem for us. Muggles are ripe for the plucking. The time is now. Embrace our destiny to put them in their places." Draco laughed and nodded. "I'll take you on your offer my Lord. But there is one above all else that I would like on his knees before me…Harry Potter." Voldemort laughed and agreed. "After I am done with him, you shall be able to keep him as your pet, as long as you torture him significantly. Can't let him die easily, now can we? Adva kedavra is too nice of a spell for the likes of Potter."

Anger flashed through the bond towards Draco. What? Potter is pretty hot. I would like him on his knees. Then something akin to embarrassment and shock filtered through. Oh come off it. I'm a fucking flamer. You can't honestly tell me you thought I was straight.

Point taken.

Now can you keep the theatrics down? I don't care if you're his fucking bride to be. Chillax.

Draco felt, rather than saw the nod that came through the other end. He turned and sat on the arm of the throne Voldemort deposited himself on, which was centered directly behind the altar on a raised platform, so that the tip of the chair's spikes just breached the gently turning waves crashing behind them.

Turning to Draco, Voldemort held his Dark Mark to Draco, which in turn Draco licked. Being of Voldemort's consort, he had the ability to summon every single Death Eater he wanted, with a mere desire. This measure was to protect "the chosen" from any harm, which in Draco's case would come in handy when the Order tried anything Gryffindorish, aka stupid and brave.

Instantly, black robes appeared, one by one. Looking, more like leering at them all behind the masks, Draco decided to try a little Occlumency and see for himself how these seasoned members shaped up. Nott was just plain horrid, not even realizing that someone was filtering through and it was several seconds before he drew up a shield. Draco saw a wisp of blonde hair, and narrowed his eyes slightly. Let's just see here… He waited about twenty or so seconds, then full forced pushed his mind into his sire's. A whirlwind of emotions, mostly fear and he thought for a second regret flashed through him. This happened in a flash of an instant, before his was mentally turned around and kicked in the ass out of Luicius' consciousness.

Draco sneered and told the Dark Lord audibly, "Your servants could use some work. They are definitely not the higher caliber I expected them to be." Voldemort glanced slyly at Draco, seeming to assess what exactly the blonde was trying to accomplish. "Ah yes, they may have some faults, but they are my children, and my most loyal, Draconis. You must at least give them that."

Voldemort commenced his meeting. "Through the fires of Hades I commend this meeting. It shall be most secret, most sacred, from every listening ear, traitor and spy that there is. To this, there will be death." He poured a single drop of dragon's blood into a steaming golden goblet with a clear blue potion. It turned blood red then a vile deep black color. He took a sip himself, and then handed it to Draco; This is it…fuck I hope I don't die. And he drank deeply. Nothing happened. Relief poured through his body and the link from his Link's side and his to his Link's. He passed it on to Goyle, who was standing nearby. After everyone had drunk, Voldemort started to talk about his newer of plans.

Two hours into it, Draco started getting these awful cramps, and they steadily got worse. Merlin, Link! I think I've been poisoned!!!

Shit! Is there any way you can ease the pain?

Send them to you. I know it's not fair, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you the next time you get the flu.

Harry braced himself and grimaced, dragging a trashcan near him. Give it to me.

Thank you.

Draco deftly pushed the cramps he was feeling towards Harry, and instantaneously he felt better and instead of battling with a grimace, he sharpened his skills on remembering, since his Link would now be incapacitated.

Finally, about an hour later, a shriek came through from the Link. Draco started to panic, Are you okay? It should have diluted whatever the poison was. Shit!

Gods…pain…oh dear lord the pain….

Wormtail suddenly dropped to his knees and screamed in agony. "Make it stop! Please, please dear Lord make it stop!" He writhed around on the floor, vomiting and clearly loosing his mind to the pain. "Finite Incantem."

The pain stopped. Draco could feel the dull pulsating pain instantly vanish from his side and his links. He could feel the relief pulsating through the Link, and mentally relayed about a thousand thank-you's before turning back to the scene unfolding.

Wormtail was on his knees before the altar, begging and pleading the Dark Lord for mercy. Voldemort disdainfully looked at the hideous creature before him, and replied after several minutes of stony silence. "Mercy is not good enough for you. Let us, take a trip down into the wonders of Peter Pettigrew's mind, shall we?"

Wormtail looked shocked and wary, unsure of whether this meant salvation or his death sentence. A small pill was tossed to Wormtail, which he warily put into his mouth and swallowed. Instantly his eyes dilated, and blood started to seep out of this mouth. A broken and slightly crazed smiled illuminated his face as he cried, "Thank you milord! Thank you! I feel so much better now!"

Voldemort smiled and flicked his wand in a lazy pattern to a screen of some sorts. It was blurry at first, but then it became clearer. Memories, all memories. Dreams, thoughts.

At first, they saw Peter as a small boy at four, when a pail was taken away from him. It was marked as the first time peter was evil, a private favorite memory of his as he hexed the boy with a jelly legs jinx when his back was turned.

It drifted in and out of his schoolboy years, seeing the pain and loneliness only someone as vile and wretched as Peter Pettigrew would ever have to experience. Draco saw Wormtail's initiation ceremony into the Death Eaters, the pride and triumph at delivering the Potter's to his Lord. Anger shot through the Link, white hot and heavy.

Draco ignored this, and kept his eyes on the screen, intent on learning as much as possible. He saw when Voldemort was resurrected. He also saw some dreams. He saw Harry Potter on his knees, doing lewd things with Peter, only to drift into another fantasy of Peter fucking the Dark Lord. Things went downhill, flashes of women on large wood X's being whipped then raped brutally.

Disgust was traded back and forth between the link. Things only took on a truly horrific light when Peter's mind turned to his one main fantasy. Draco Malfoy. Dozens of images filtered through, Draco crying and bleeding, then being raped. Being forced to suck things Draco would never under any circumstances go within fifty feet of, let alone suck.

Merlin. He's a sick fuck isn't he? I mean, I know everyone wants me but Merlin. That's a little overboard don't you think? Ugh. I need to shower. Many many times.

He's a fucking prick who deserves to die. I would not shed a tear even if I was the one to kill him in cold blood. He tortured lied and betrayed so many for what? His feeble grasp on power? That man should die many deaths.

Draco felt the anger and sorrow and he let these emotions affect him. His mask steeled itself. "My Lord? I think that's enough of this drivel. Would you allow me to do the honors?"

Voldemort looked surprised and pleased at the same time. "Of course my pet. He shall learn what isn't his can't be taken, or even dream of being taken. Another simple finite incantem should do the trick."

The screen was whisked away, and he was led behind the alter, kneeled on the ground with a foolish grin still plastered on his face. Draco looked regally down at him and said the simple counter-spell.

It was so damn gratifying, both Harry and Draco thought, to see realization, shock and utter horror appear on the man's face completely unguarded.

That's for you mum and dad. Harry thought wistfully. It sure helps me a lot, don't know about you guys.

At once he just started to bawl like a baby, knowing he had a snowball's chance in hell for getting out of this unscathed, or even alive. This is the end. And for what? Wormtail thought bitterly. I ended up alone, feeble, with no power to speak of, and I have to face my deeds. Merlin. I wish I had a drink.

Draco looked down and sneered, "What's the matter Pettigrew? Afraid of what's to come? No worries, I won't let you get there until your throat is bleeding from screaming. Adva Kedavra is too good for the likes of you."

Peter cocked his head to the side, as if not understanding, as he was hauled up onto the altar, laying across it so that his head was directly over the edge. "Cruor incidere."

His face tensed for a moment, then relaxed as nothing seemed to happen. He stayed that way, almost about to jeer at the consort, when a shocked expression came over his face. A low, loud scream coming all the way down from his bowels issued forth from the man as thousands of tiny cuts inside and out started oozing with blood. It was a truly horrific sight, but Draco maintained an air of indifference as he made it look like he was bored with the scene instead of completely revolted.

Voldemort seemed to perk up after a few minutes of enjoying the show and continued on with the meetings, stroking Draco's back every so often, and once even pausing to kiss Draco's hand.

The Death Eaters were shocked almost into an uproar when this happened, but Voldemort stemmed any protests with a simple statement explaining that Draco is his equal and he shall be treated as such. A cruel smile was brought to his lips when he met the shocked expressions of the elder Death Eaters.

Bingo.

No, they definitely don't like those apples.

No I don't suppose they do Link, do they?

The meeting ended with a formal flair, and the others took off, leaving Peter in his death throes. As they watched the last breath, Voldemort allowed for a small smile. "My pet, you have passed the test. I am very proud of you. I know where your true loyalty lays, and now you have my trust, guarded as it is."

Draco smiled and kisses the corner of the older man's mouth. "I already had it. As soon as you saw me in leather, you know you've wanted it." Voldemort laughed again. "We shall soon see me get it, my pet." Draco put on a brave face and grimaced. "Nasty old perverted men. They're all the same." With that, he left the Sanctum to return to his rooms with the sound of laughter following the whoosh of fire.

As he plopped into bed that night, a sudden tug on the other end of the link caused him to stay awake. Think I've got everything Draco. Anything else you want to add to the message?

Yeah. That Dumbledore is an old coot who needs to be put out of his scheming misery.

Completely agree with you on that. Shall do. After a few minutes, a softer reply. You did good today you know. Really damn good. I'm proud of you and very thankful.

It was nothing, Link. No worries, yeah?

Yeah. Night Draco.

Night Link.

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a/n: Well hello! I rather like how this is going on, don't you?

I'm still torn if I should speed things up, or get more into the details of Harry/Draco's Link and see them grow.

I think that would be in order. Hmm.. yeas yeass… rubs hands together