Chapter 10 – Ferret's suck in more ways than one.
The cloaked figure appeared out of thin air in the narrow, moonlit lane as the clouds floated sinisterly in the sky, casting dark foreboding shadows upon the cobblestone path. For a brief moment he stood quite still, wand tucked safely into his arm holster as silver eyes darted this way and that,as if expecting to be apprehended before making haste towards the equally mysterious shadow under the dim oil lamp. "News?" asked the taller of the two. "The best," replied Draco Malfoy. The lane was bordered on the left by shabby, crumbling, brick apartments, on the right by a high, poorly kept hedge that snaked up the wall of the alley.. The men's long cloaks flapped around their ankles as they walked along, clearly not wishing to be seen, even in this shady corner of London. "I knew I'd be late," said Flint, his blunt ogre-like features sliding in and out of sight as the shadows of overhanging signs and withered tree branches broke the moonlight. "It was a much more problematic than I expected. But I hope he will be satisfied. You sound confident that your information will be well received?" Malfoy nodded, but did not continue the conversation. They turned right, into a wide driveway that led out of the alley. The high hedge curved into them, running off into the distance beyond the pair of intimidating hammered-iron gates barring the men's way. Neither of them broke step: In silence both raised their left sleeves and pressed their wand into the others arm; passing straight through, as though the dark metal was simply a mirage.
The yew hedges muffled the sound of the men's footsteps as they approached the front door of the run down Victorian style mansion. There was a rustle somewhere to their right: Flint drew his wand again pointing it over his companion's head, but the source of the noise proved to be nothing more than a large brown feathered creature, gaggling on its merry way from one bush of weeds to the next.
"Shame, that" Flint thrust his wand back under his cloak with a snort. "I'm rather fond of pheasant stew."
The gravel crackled beneath their feet as Malfoy and his companion sped toward the front door, which swung inward at their approach, though though there was no evidence of physical assistance.
The hallway was large, dimly lit, and tastefully decorated, with a tattered, but no less magnificent carpet covering most of the cold, stone floor. The eyes of the pale-faced portraits on the wall followed the two as they strode past and halted at a heavy wooden door leading into the next room, hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, after which Draco turned the worn bronze handle.
The drawing room was full of deathly silent occupants, sitting at a long and ornate table. The room's usual furniture had been arranged carefully up against the walls, as if the owner took great pride in the interior of outwardly, unattractive home. A soft glow emitted from a surprisingly welcoming fire beneath the chipped marble mantelpiece surmounted by, what appeared to be a very recently shattered mirror. Malfoy and Flint lingered for a moment on the threshold as I waiting for instruction. As their eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light, they were drawn upward to the imposing feature that completed the scene: an apparently unconscious human figure hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope, and was reflected in the bare, somewhat polished surface of the table below. None of the people seated underneath this singular sight were looking at it except for a short hooded figure sitting almost directly below it; though, they seemed unable to prevent themselves from glancing upward every few moments.
"Flint," said a high, clear voice from the head of the table. "You are three minutes late."
The speaker was seated directly in front of the fireplace, so that it was difficult, at first, for the new arrivals to make out more than his silhouette. As they drew nearer, however, his face made itself known, hairless, snakelike, with a serpentine nose and gleaming ruby orbs that pierced through the souls of all those present. Lord Voldemort was, indeed in a poor mood.
"Draco, here," said Voldemort, indicating the seat on his immediate right with a seductive pur. "Flint – beside Yaxley."
The two took their allotted places. Most of the eyes around the table followed Draco, and it was to him that Voldemort spoke first.
"News on the boy." he demanded.
"My Lord, " Draco murmured, slowly gaining confidence with each word he uttered. "Harry Potter has formerly announced his engagement to the foreigner Slang Rodrego."
"That much i have learned from reading the Daily prophet, Draco." the snakelike man said, though by his tone, he cared not.
"Forgive me, My Lord." came the appology. "I have also noticed some strange changes in potter's behavior since they first...fornicated. His presence...forgive me once more, master...imitates your own; quite serpentine."
The interest around the table sharpened palpably: Some stiffened, others fidgeted, all gazing at Malfoy and Voldemort.
"His presence is serpentine you say?" muttered Voldemort. Crimson fastened upon Draco's silver with such intensity that some of the watchers looked away, apparently fearful that they themselves would be scorched by the ferocity of the gaze. Malfoy, however, looked calmly back into Voldemort's face and, after a moment or two, the man's lipless mouth curved into something like a smile.
"Good. Very good. And this information comes from–"
" – astute and constant observation," said Draco.
"My Lord."
Flint had leaned forward to look down the long table at Voldemort and Malfoy. All faces turned to him.
"My Lord, I also have news on the Boy's fiance."
Flint waited, but Voldemort did not speak, so he went on, "Rodrego, the exchange student, often times will take on an appearance similar to that of your own. He, as you already know, my lord, is a Parselmouth, and had let slip that his name is in fact a farce."
Voldemort was smirking now.
"Yes," Draco added. "We have reason to believe he may have been planted in Slytherin; but for what reasons we have yet to discover."
"I assure you, my Lord, We shall find the reason soon enough," said Flint.
"The students have become quite taken with him." continued Draco, who waited for Voldemort to nod in acknowledgement. "and his young charge Anwen, whom I informed you by Owl has been drawing the entire school into the Gryffindor dorms to learn the so called 'History of the Slytherin bloodline', which she tells by heart. I have researched and found that she has filled many of the blanks in said tales of your great ancestor. But it troubles me to hear several implications that Rodrego is in fact an even more direct descendant than you."
"Foolish child. None could be the Heir but the man before us." said a squat man sitting a short distance from Flint; he gave a wheezy giggle that was echoed here and there along the table, though he seemed to be under the impression he could not be heard. "I'll enjoy watching you scream when he finds you a useless commodity like the traitor you have repla-"
"CRUCIO!" everyone present cringed visibly as the unfortunate death eater screamed and collapsed onto the floor in agony. It was a full thirty seconds before Voldemort lifted the curse and sat back down as if nothing had happened. His gaze had wandered upward to the body revolving slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought. The table was quite stunned that no action was taken against this appalling outburst.
"My Lord," Flint went on shifting in his seat, "A source of mine believes an entire army has begun to assemble in secret within the forbidden forest–"
Voldemort held up a large white hand, and Flint subsided at once, watching resentfully as Voldemort turned back to Draco.
"What do you know of this?"
"At the moment I have heard nothing of the sort," said the blonde. "The commotion that was heard, according to my own informant, was in fact Potter's engagement party. Remus Lupin, the now deceased werewolf, had attended without invitation and was mauled by Rodrego."
Voldemort listened, suddenly very interested. " It would take great strength and cunning to take down a werewolf as powerful as he. I suspect that there is more to this newcomer than meets the eye."
"Well, Flint?" Voldemort called down the table, the firelight glinting strangely in his red eyes. "Do you believe we have reason to suspect that this Rodrego is a threat?"
Once again, all heads turned. Flint squared his shoulders.
"My Lord, I am of the oppinion that we should attempt to infiltrate his private life. Perhaps,with coaxing we can find out more of Rodrego, and possibly draw him to our side, and even betray his fiance. I have – with difficulty, and after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Hermione Granger."
Many of those sitting around Flint looked impressed; his neighbor, Dolohov, a man with a long, twisted face, clapped him on the back. Draco sneered and stood up, surprising all who sat amongst him.
"Useless, when that mudblood is now being transported away to the States in attempt to bring some normalcy back into her beha-"
"SILENCE DRACO!" the Dark Lord hissed. The boy frowned with embarrassment and took his seat once more, his eyes downcast.
"This is indeed most valuable news" said Voldemort. "But Granger will be returning soon, and I shall then entrust her to you, Draco." he paused. "However... she is only one girl. Hogwarts must be swamped with our people before I act. One more failed attempt on the Headmasters life will set me back a long way." Lucius, who sat near the end spoke up, though his voice carried none of the confidence or pomp his son demonstrated.
"Yes – my Lord, that is true – but you know, as reinstated Head of the Hogwarts Board of Directors, I have regular contact not only with the entire staff, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have myself to subjugate the others, and then we can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down."
"That is no longer our goal, Lucius," said Voldemort with a disgusted sneer. "At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be penetrable until Hogwarts is mine. If we cannot touch the boy, at his destination, or the youth of the Wizarding world then we have nothing. Er allein, der die Jugend, gewinnt die Zukunft besitzt.* " the gathering around him nodded at the quote to the only muggle Voldemort had ever held in higher respect than the scum underneath his shoes.
Again, Voldemort looked up at the slowly revolving body as he went on, "I shall attend to the Foreigner in person. Draco, I believe you are still holding your annual Yule Masquerade?" the Draco nodded, smirking when his fathers face grew contemptuous at his son being recognised as the head of the family. "Good. Send Rodrego and his little pet an invitation; warm up to the boy, gain his trust. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs. But now...I will destroy him from within, starting with his lover."
The company around the table watched Voldemort apprehensively, each of them, by his or her expression, afraid that they might be blamed for Harry Potter's continued existence. Voldemort, however, seemed to be speaking more to himself than to any of them, still addressing the unconscious body above him.
"I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be."
At these words, seemingly in response to them, a sudden wail sounded, a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain. Many of those at the table looked downward, startled, for the sound had seemed to issue from below their feet.
"Wormtail," said Voldemort, with no change in his quiet, thoughtful tone, and without removing his eyes from the revolving body above, "Have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"
"Yes, m-my Lord," gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.
"As I was saying," continued Voldemort, looking again at the tense faces of his followers, "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."
The faces around him displayed nothing but shock; he might have announced that he wanted to borrow one of their arms.
"No volunteers?" said Voldemort giving a side glance to Draco, who was looking quite smug. "Let's see … Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."
Lucius Malfoy looked up. His eyes swimming with a jumble of emotions, most of which were directed to his son. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"My Lord?"
"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand."
"I …"
Malfoy glanced sideways at his wife. She was staring straight ahead, quite as pale as he was, her long blonde hair hanging down her back, but beneath the table her slim fingers closed briefly on his wrist. At her touch, Malfoy put his hand into his robes, withdrew a wand, and passed it along to Voldemort, who held it up in front of his snakelike eyes, examining it closely.
"What is it?"
"Elm, my Lord," whispered Malfoy.
"And the core?"
"Dragon – dragon heartstring."
"Good," said Voldemort. He drew out his wand and compared the lengths. Lucius Malfoy made an involuntary movement; for a fraction of a second, it seemed he expected to receive Voldemort's wand in exchange for his own. The gesture was not missed by Voldemort, whose eyes widened maliciously.
"Give you my wand, Lucius?" his lifted a non existent eyebrow. "My wand?"
Some of the throng snickered and Draco looked as if he were to piss himself with glee.
"I have given you your liberty, Lucius, is that not enough for you?" lucius opened his mouth, hesitated and closed his lips once more. "Hmmm...I have noticed that you seemed have less than happy of late … What is it about your son by my side as Heir that displeases you, Lucius?"
"Nothing – nothing, my Lord!"
"Such lies Lucius …"
The soft voice seemed to hiss on even after the cruel mouth had stopped moving. One or two of the wizards barely repressed a shudder as the hissing grew louder; something heavy could be heard sliding across the floor beneath the table.
The huge snake emerged to climb slowly up Voldemort's chair. It rose, seemingly endlessly, and came to rest across Voldemort's shoulders: its neck the thickness of a man's thigh; its eyes, with their slit pupils, unblinking. Voldemort stroked the creature absently, still looking at Lucius Malfoy and ignoring the slight flush on Draco's cheeks as he watched those long, thin fingers.
"Why do the elder Malfoy's look so unhappy with their lot? Is my return, my rise to power, not the very thing they professed to desire for so many years?"
"Of course, my Lord," said Lucius Malfoy. His hand shook as he wiped sweat from his upper lip. "We did desire it – we do."
To Malfoy's left, his wife made an odd, stiff nod, her eyes averted from Voldemort and the snake. To Voldemort's right, his son, Draco, who had been glaring in his direction, glanced at Voldemort and away again, smirk only growing as he announced for all to hear.
"My Lord," he said very clearly, his voice constricted with emotion and pride, "It is an honor to be sharing sharing your bed. There can be no higher pleasure, no greater a privilage..."
His eyes wandered to the woman beside his mother, as unlike her in looks, with her dark hair and heavily lidded eyes, as she was in bearing and demeanor; where Narcissa sat rigid and impassive, Bellatrix leaned toward Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness which had been openly rejected.
"No higher pleasure," repeated Voldemort, his head tilted a little to one side as he dismissed the harlot like behaviour from the female. "That means a great deal, Draco, from you."
His face remained dignified, though his cheeks flooded with color, as he bowed his head in reverence.
"My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth..."
"Most assuringly…" Voldemort's lips played into a very small smile as his hand reached under the table to stroke the young boy's thigh, who took great effort not to keen in appreciation.
"How fares the family, Bellaxrix?"
She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused.
"I don't know what you mean, my Lord."
"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has supposedly dissappeared, seemingly into thin air. You must be quite vexed."
There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The giant snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys' humiliation. Bellatrix's face, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.
"She is no niece of ours, my Lord," she cried over the outpouring of mirth. "We – Narcissa and I – have never set eyes on our sister since she betrayed the family, joining the Order. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor her disappearances with whatever moodblood she chooses to whore to."
"What say you, Draco?" asked Voldemort; his voice was quiet, and it carried clearly through the suddenly silent room, stroking an irritated Nagini. "What do you think has become of your esteemed cousin? Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring, "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest."
"Yes, my Lord," purred Draco, and Bellaxrix' eyes swam with tears of greif at the loss of her Lord's favor. "Though would it not be more productive to seduce them back to the correct order of things?"
"You astound me with your eloquence, Draco." said Voldemort his voice tinted with lust. "And what a novel suggestion."
Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowly revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds.
"Do you recognize our guest, Nymphadora?" asked Voldemort suddenly glancing at the figure to his left. Her hood lowered to reveal a young dark skinned girl, seemingly no older than eleven. Nymphadora tonks – in the guise of a young Cayne.
Yellow eyes blazed through the darkness and raised to the upside down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as though they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Anwen! Help me!"
"Ah, yes," said the lookalike as the prisoner turned slowly away again.
"And you, Draco?" asked Voldemort, stroking the snake's snout with his wand-free hand. Draco shook his head uninterestedly, more focused on the hand that now massaged him between his legs.
"But you would not have taken her classes," said Voldemort. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
There were small noises of comprehension around the table. A broad, hunched woman with pointed teeth cackled.
"Yes … Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles … how they are not so different from us …"
One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Charity Burbage revolved to face Tonks again.
"Anwen… please … please … you're such a sweet girl. You don't have to-
"Silence," said Voldemort, with another twitch of Malfoy's wand, and Charity fell silent as if gagged. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defense of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the pureblood's is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance … She would have us all mate with Muggles … or, no doubt, werewolves … I am sure that Lupin would have been quite happy with that, now wouldn't he?"
The laugher rang out like a siren, everyone catching the gag at his obsession with the Potter boy. For the third time, Charity Burbage revolved to face Tonks once more. Tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair. The ex auror looked back at her, quite impassive, as she turned slowly away from the woman again.
"Avada Kedavra"
The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs. Bellatrix fell out of hers onto the floor.
"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders onto the polished wood. He turned to face the young woman beside him and nodded.
"You know what to do Nymphadora." he said, ignoring the slight tensing of her shoulders. She nodded and left the table, lifting her cloak over her head.
By the time Dumbledor had returned from the back room of his office, harry had already gone. Confusion peaked in the old wizards mind as he looked around, as if harry would be hiding for some reason; that is, until he saw the letters that had been scattered over his desk, piled neatly in the centre, where a letter opener had been embedded through them and into the desk.
"...oh dear."
Sirius lay asleep, curled up under the sheets of the bed as he struggled against his nightmares. The room around him was simple, plain and poorly decorated, typical of a cheap London motel. In the trunk inside the closet directly beside the door to the loo, were several stacks of letters, photographs, books, and the charred remains of the destroyed horcruxes.
A tapping on the window of his third floor room quickly woke him from his fitful sleep and in one swift, fluid motion he jumped out of bed and opened the window, allowing the snowy, white owl to set itself down.
"Hedwig?" he tilted his head, receiving an intelligent nod from the bird who shook her leg, urging him to take the letter. He knelt down and untied the small envelope before conjuring up a dead rat for her to feast on, to which she ruffled her feathers in delight. Slowly, he noticed the redness of the envelope which had begun to smoke at the corners.
"...oh shit."
Anwen skipped into the Slytherin common room in the lower level dungeons stopping in her tracks when she saw harry standing in front of the tapestry which blocked the way to the girls dormitory, eyes dark and accusing.
::...oh fuck.::
Sirius gulped as he unfolded the letter. He was definitely not looking forward to what it said.
Albus sighed and peered over his interlocked fingers. He would have a hard time explaining this one...
Anwen backed away slowly as harry's face contorted with rage, having read her guilty expression.
::I have one thing to ask you before dragging you up to the astronomy tower and tossing you out the window, you bitch.:: he growled, eyes aglow with killer intent. ::Does Sheka know?::
Sheka sat silently in his Harry's, bed anxiously awaiting his return as he closed closed his eyes and rolled onto his back with a smile on his face. Things were finally improving for them and he doubted anything could ruin his day.
::...N-no.:: she stuttered, her back hitting cold stone. ::He knows nothing. Only Albus, Severus, and Hermione know anythi-::
::WHAT?::
Neville, Ron and Sheka all looked at each other and the roar that echoed through the Castle.
"you think it's"
"Yep." the three boys burst out of the room instantaneously, hoping to find harry before he killed someone...and not quite in figurative terms.
Sirius quickly covered his ears at the very moment the letter began to shriek out its message.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON SIRIUS! WHERE THE FUCKING BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THE LAST TWO FUCKING YEARS! HOW DARE YOU ABANDON ME AND LEAVE ME TO DEAL WITH ALL THIS SHIT ON MY OWN! WHAT HAPPENED TO 'YOU CAN COME AND LIVE WITH ME.'? WHAT HAPPENED TO 'I'LL NEVER ABANDON YOU.'? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY HAVE MADE YOU LEAVE ME FOR THOSE DAMN HORCRUX THINGS! HOW DARE YOU NOT VISIT ME WHEN YOU CAME TO HOGWARTS! HOW DARE YOU? HOWFUCKING DARE YOU! I SWEAR TO FUCKING WHATEVER GODS ARE UP THERE THAT WHEN I GET AHOLD OF YOUR MANGEY ARSE I WILL RIP IT TO SHREDS! YOU MISSED MY COMING OF AGE! YOU MISSED MY WEDDING! YOU HAD BETTER HAVE A DAMNGOOD FUCKING EXPLINATION AND APPARATE YOUR ARSE OVER HERE TO THE HOGWARTS GROUNDS OR ILL FUCKING KILL THAT LITTLE BINT YOU PLANTED HERE TO WATCH ME! JUST SEE IF IM BLUFFING, YOU SICK FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!
...AND WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT BULLSHIT IN THE MINESTRY! CALLING ME JAMES? I'M NOT MY DAMNED FATHER YOU PUSSY LICKING MUTT! HEDWIG! GOUGE HIS EYES OUT IF HE DOESNT PULL OUT A QUILL AND PAPER RIGHT NOW!"the letter exploded in mid air, ash flying everywhere.
As if on cue, Hedwig's crystal blue eyes darkened and her head nodded slightly, her feathers ruffling and fluffing up intimidatingly. Sirius, in a panic, tore out his wand and conjured up a pen and paper, jotting down a quick.
"I'm on my way." and allowed her to snatch it from his hands, taking off without hesitation. Sirius groaned and rubbed his eyes before suddenly remembering his threat. He apparated away on the spot.
"HARRY!" Sheka screamed as he burst into the dungeons; Ron and Neville close behind as he struggled to pry Harry's hands from Anwen's throat. "HARRY WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
"SHE FUCKING NEW!" harry roared, struggling like a cornered tiger against the strong arms that strained to pull him away. "SHE KNEW THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME!" harry wrenched an arm out of his Mate's grip and clawed madly at a terrified Anwen as the Slytherin's gathered around, too stunned by the scene to help their comrades. Neville rushed over to the girl and hugged her closely as she massaged her throat, eyes watering in pain.
"Harry! Please! Stop!" Ron came forward to help draw harry back. Tears of rage, and anguish streamed out of his eyes as his energy dwindled, and he gradually grew limp in their arms. Slowly but surely, his screams turned into gasping sobs and he clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he bent over in defeat.
"...He...he fucking left...me." he choked, betrayal consuming his heart for the second time in a month. "Th-that s-son of …a bitch...left me..."his body heaved with each laboured breath as he slowly fell out of his adrenaline high and into a crash of misery.
All Sheka could do was wonder who harry spoke about as he held the broken boy protectively in his embrace, not noticing the silently weeping ex convict in the doorway.
A/N: okay for those who aren't into violent bloody cannibalism type sex then your outa luck here. For those of u who squee for it? Go nuts :D
"Stunning..." Voldemort whispered lustfully as he gazed at the nude boy who knelt before him. Blonde hair had been washed clean and draped down over sliver eyes in feathery plumes, contrasting the slight blush on his cheeks.
"You never cease to amaze me, Draco." Voldemort sauntered over to the boy step by lingering step, making sure to let those beautifully innocent eyes wander over him in fascination. The boy's gaze never faltered, drinking in the sight of his master as if he were the most addictive of narcotics.
"Do you find me so appealing, that you cannot look away?"A smirk twisted over his thin lips.
Dracos eyes only seemed to glaze over at the sound of his voice and he nodded absently. Voldemort questioned weather or not he had even comprehended what had been said.
"I need you amongst the living, little dragon." he chuckled, though still managing to sound as sinister as he normally did. Draco nodded and forced himself to gain back some form of mental competence. He knew what the Dark Lord meant, and he found himself anticipating every last moment with unrelenting enthusiasm.
His master had everything he had been hoping for, ever since he had first seen, and immediately pined for Lord Voldemort, it had been his sole ambition to earn the position oh his heir and consort; he had done everything he thought would help, and by merlin it had payed off. Ruthless, conniving, unafraid to take risks, or make sacrifices for what he desired; that was the powerful snake above him in a nutshell. The desire to feel those claw-like nails down his back, to experience the caress of the forked tongue he saw slither out with every syllable the man uttered, to be tortured in whatever manner his master, no...his god, pleased; oh, he wanted it all!
Voldemort heard every last thought that ran through Draco's head and had to catch a smile before it broke over his lips. Such devotion not even Bellatrix could compare too, and it pleased him...it pleased him greatly. He lowered a hand under the chin of the boy, lifting his face up just enough to see the glowing obsessive passion in his heir's expression. It was enough to drive him wild, and he absently unfastened his cloak, letting the light, silk folds of cloth flutter to the floor.
Finally, Draco dared look him in the eyes, those handsome blood red eyes, as he removed his cloak, revealing a pale, lean body, not much unlike his own if not perhaps more...generously endowed. Voldemort's smirk grew as he leaned upwards, silently begging him for contact. Draco's heart thumped loudly in his ears when his cautious advance was mirrored and they finally connected.
The kiss was immediately rough, teeth clashing and tongues searching about the other's uncharted territory as deeply as they could manage. Each felt the others tongue probing sharply into their mouths, wrapping around each other, licking the gums and caressing the inside of their cheeks in a fast paced and aggressive tango of lust. Draco slid a hand around the back of Voldemort's neck to pull him deeper, and deeper he went as the two stumbled to the floor in a moaning, writhing heap. Sharp teeth bit a soft bottom with a vicious snarl, drawing blood, then wiping his tongue over the wound, mopping it up with a delighted and appreciative purr. Not a word passed between the two, none was needed, and the two sank into the depths of the mindless, animal drive that had been clawing its way to the surface of the two since silver eyes first met red, two years ago. Voldemort grabbed a fistful of Dracos hair and pulled down, angling him for better access as a high pitched whimper escaped the throat of the teenage boy. Draco's moans echoed into his lords ears like music and he forced himself break away from those deliciously swollen lips, leisurely ran his tongue up one flushed cheek and allowed his right hand to "caress" the inside of his left thigh, his nails digging shallow scratches which beaded with blood and ran down his legs in a soft trickle.
Draco cried out and arched into the chest above him, throwing his arms around the man's neck gripping and tearing at his back in an attempt to draw out more of that wonderfully sadistic nature from his master. The Dark lord's feral, husky growl of pleasure filled his ears, while a pale, spider-like hand moved down the chest above him fingering his nipple relentlessly, tugging and tweaking as hard, demanding kisses were trailed over his jawline and neck. His nails sank once more into his thigh, though this time on the outside of his right and he spread his legs in an unconscious, non-verbal plea for more.
Voldemort gazed down at his companion and finally noticed the tingling of his back where draco had all but torn it apart, groaning as those delicate fingers caressed the open wounds, spreading a fair amount of blood over his back. He shivered with delight and in reward, he began his quest for the feel of the boy's nipples between his lips, nipping, sucking and licking in pre-existant patterns over the baby soft, but slightly muscular chest running his teeth along the soon to be scarred flesh. Finally, when draco thought he would no longer be able to bear the lack of contact to the most sensitive spot on his body, voldemort clamped his mouth over a pert nipple and sucked, swirling his tongue around the light pink bud with ravenous hunger forcing a piercing shriek to echo throughout the room. Adolescent toes curled into the plush carpet and his back rose so high off of the floor that the only parts of Draco's body that made contact was the back of his head, his bum and feet.
Then without warning two fingers shoved themselves into his virgin heat driving a cry of pain and pleasure from his vocal chords, while rough, dominating hand grasped his painfully throbbing length, finally giving him what he had silently begged for. Draco gasped, digging his nails into his Master's chest, dragging them down to his lower stomach. Delicate ears listened to the deep throaty, growl that replied to his forceful touch as blood began to well up from the minor wounds slowly dripping down those softly defined abdominals. A third finger entered him as reward and all three pounded inside of him, making him scream and cry and beg wordlessly as he wiggled his arse into them in attempt to work them deeper. Finally, when his efforts became fruitless, Draco took some initiative and flipped himself over, so he was now kneeling over the Dark lord. He bit down hard on that pale neck drawing out a feral snarl from his partner. He sucked wantonly, flickering his tongue over the wound lapping up the spilt blood as it flowed into his mouth, aflame with the dark magical signature.
"Deeper!" he finally managed to beg and pushed back on those unrelenting fingers. Voldemort obliged and dug his fingers into his arse as far as he could manage, twisting them about in the heated, now slightly wet ring of muscle*, and in a great scream of rapture the blonde threw his head back, mouth hanging open as a sliver of drool dripped from the corner of his plump lips. The serpent practically lost all controll at that delicious sight and lifted his torso off of the floor, sliding the boy into his lap and began grinding their throbbing sexes together biting into that soft, untainted shouder.
"Deeper!" voldemort lifted an invisible eyebrow of amusement, wondering how the boy thought he could take the rest of his hand, which was at the moment the only way he could manage to drive his fingers any further.
"No!" draco whimpered, as if understanding the dilemma. "the bite! Make it deeper! Please! Make it hurt! Make me bleed!" Voldemort grinned and once again acquiesced without question he bit the same delicious spot of flesh and tore through his skin to the muscle tissue ripping out a small chunk.
"Ahhhhhyessss!" Draco's eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out in an insane wide mouthed smile. Voldemort closed his mouth over the wound and let the blood flow into his mouth drinking it thirstily as he swallowed the flesh he'd torn from his little Draco's neck. He felt around for the opening with his tongue, combing the surface until he found the depths of the gash and slid his tongue into the wound digging inside it as he raked his talon like fingers down the soft, supple chest under him, relishing in the flesh he now claimed to be his and his alone to devour in any way he pleased.
Voldemort smirked when his Draco began to rut frantically up into his cock, wrapping those graceful legs around his waist and inserted the rest of his tongue probing in and out of the wound, searching for the spot he knew to be just below the surface of the torn muscle.
"AHHHIIAAA!" Draco roared into the night at the touch to the suddenly exposed nerve and the heavenly sensation shot down his spine sending waves of pleasure to his groin. He climaxed violently and his juices shot out in thick ropes all over his masters chest before slumping, though no less hard than before.
"heh." his glazed, bedroom eyes lifted to see the satisfied expression of his master as he licked his lips, cleaning them of the spit that had messed over his chin. His breathing came in short gasps and ever so slowly, he lifted his hips and took his masters cock in hand.
"You want my pretty arse master?" he purred, stroking the thick head, collecting the precum and lifted it to his lips. He licked the sticky white substance from his fingers and growled appreciatively. "Mnnn or do I have permission to drink more of you?"
Voldemort gazed hungrily at those pink lips watching as that inexperienced, yet instinctively skilled tongue slide over those cum drenched digits, and he knew exactly what he wanted. He smirked; the boy would have to be patient if he wanted to taste him again.
"You still think you are in control of me, my lord?" draco suddenly mirrored his masters expression, surprising the snake. He knew what it would do, and he wanted it; he yearned to see his masters angry side.
As predicted, Voldemort snarled at his impertinence and within seconds Draco was pinned to the wall, his hands held up over his head as enraged flames of lust burned into his soul.
"You~ little~ slut~." he hissed barely understandable through the parseltongue accent. "I control every inch of this body." he grasped Draco's neck, squeazing it as tightly as he could without breaking his neck and grinned maliciously when the boy whimpered in pain, cheeks flushed embarrassedly. "I can make you scream and writhe like the whore you are by merely looking you in the eye."
"please..." draco gasped, his chest heaving violently bucking against the stationary hand that held him. It was all he could manage to say with his limited oxygen flow.
"please what?" the dark lord growled, loostening his grip just enough to allow a small intake of breath. Dracos eyes burned into Voldemorts, and without a second thought they broke into another ravaging kiss. The elder man ground his naked hips into his little concubine removing the hand that clutched that soft neck and pinched one of his erect nubs as Draco whined and cried in need thrusting and bucking desperately, the friction heightening his senses to insane levels as he arched into his master. Voldemort took his dick in hand and promptly slid it into the boys crevice, sliding it over his puckered hole causing them both to hiss in anticipation. They growled into the others mouth at the electric sensation and without warning draco abandoned his mouth and bit the flesh under his master's ear ripping and tearing at it with his teeth with an appreciative moan when voldemort did the same to him. The blonde dug his knees into his masters sides,hoisting himself up and the head of that wonderful manhood entered his arse ever so slightly, causing them both to gasp in eagerness. Voldemort thrust once and Draco's tight opening squeezed him from inside. He purred huskily as his little servant wiggled his torso, inching him in further. But the man pulled away wanting to make his favorite little cock whore beg for him. His efforts were fruitless and draco plunged his arse down impaling himself with a scream of ecstasy, muffled by the neck he had sunk his teeth into as his master lost control. Voldemort yelped at the uproar of tension that shot through his spine, and though he didn't notice draco smirked into his neck. Oh yeah...he knew who was really in charge here.
Voldemort was panting now as he pounded into that tight, throbbing arse in quick repetitive thrusts. It had been so long, he'd forgotten the intensity of it all, this amazing, insane pleasure that consumed every cell in his body. He began to scream out, completely loosing himself in Draco, who jammed his mouth over his masters, muffling it possessively so only he could hear how much he pleased his lover. He moaned into that lipless mouth, their tongues clashing and entwining with obsessively frantic movement, they just couldn't feel the other enough. Voldemort roared in frustration and hammered harder, and harder unable to control himself as he angled himself for deeper penetration smirking when draco threw his head back in a wild shriek. He'd finally hit the boys prostate.
"Master!" Draco tightened his legs around Volemort's hips as a great all consuming heat filled his tightening balls, pooling in his stomach and inner thighs. He sped up as fast as he could, knowing from the slight change in his master's pace that the man was drawing near as well. Voldemort captured his lips just in time to stifle both of their screams as he came. He swore he had never felt so enraptured with anyone else as a spasm vibrated down into his groin filling his precious Draco with his hot white essence. Draco bit down sharply into the dark lords tongue, tasting blood as he came a second time, panting and struggling against the hand that pinned his wrists to the wall above him.
Then, slowly; very slowly, they relaxed, each panting against the lips of the other as cum gently flowed out of Dracos insides, running down his legs. They both looked at each other grinning widely, drunk off of their own raging hormones and one thought ran through their minds.
'more!'
It was around four thirty in the morning, when Bellatrix woke up with a start. Her mood was dark and dreary, as it was every morning as she took her shower and got dressed in the usual revealing clothes setting off to wake her Lord as she did every morning. She was just about to turn the last corner when she heard a blood curdling scream from within the room. A smirk spread over her dry lips and her tongue snaked out in insane satisfaction. Oh, how she adored the sound of torture. With a giggle, she leaned her head against the bedroom door and listened closely making out two voices who were no longer screaming. What happened? She had been so looking forward to possibly bearing witness. As quietly as she could, she pulled out her wand and cast a purposefully weak blasting charm; the small burst of air making a bullet shaped hole in the door. Curiously she peeked through it, closing one eye for better vision and froze in disbelief and irrational anger. There was Draco naked and covered in a sheen of sweat and blood straddling the hips of her master who was holding the writhing child into his chest, both looking as if they had never seen more pleasure in their lives. Draco rose and fell whining and moaning in eustacy as he rode the Dark lord's cock with unrelenting enthusiasm, tears of pain and pleasure rolling down his flushed cheeks. Voldemort, she saw, was gnawing at the boys neck which was marred and torn apart, like the rest of him, the only unmarked areas of his body being his groin, face and the flesh over his jugular vein. Bellatrix gasped into her hand when the dark lord suddenly conjured two blades, draco taking one and they carved them deeply down each others chests to the point where even Bella, in her insane state of mind cringed in phantom empathy. Voldemort angled himself to dracos chest and began to suck on a nipple drinking the blood that dripped over the light skinned chest
"Try something," Draco gasped pleadingly. "different this time." Voldemorts deep chuckle rang throughout the room.
His voice rumbled in a gruff laboured breath and he bit down savagely, grabbing the edge of the wound and much more slowly than before, began to tear into his chest, massaging the abused and bruised skin between his teeth.
"yes! Oh! Nnnahh master!" his eyes glazed over with lust and the snake let go a hiss of pleasure as they both came, evidently too exhausted to make much noise in their rapture.
"Draco..."voldemort purred into the boy's ear seductively, realizing that his pet still had not been satisfied with the taste of his cum as he had pleaded for several hours ago.
"mn?" moaned the boy, looking up with bloodstained lips.
"bend over." he ordered. Draco's eyes cleared, only enough to give evidence that he understood and with a whimper of discomfort, he lifted himself away from his masters astoundingly still rock hard arousal. With a surprising display of gace, he bent over on his hands and knees, lowering to his elbows, knowing what his master wished to do, wanting it, and all but keening for it.
Voldemort huffed as he placed his hands on Draco's behind, spreading his arse cheeks gently not wanting to rush himself. Every fiber of his body was humming with pleasure as he placed his lips over his little blond's entrance and sucked as softly as he could, knowing that gentility would be the most torturous of punishments. The body under him shivered and pressed against his mouth with a keening wail.
"ohhhh! ohh master...ahhh please, more!" Draco whimpered and pressed into the tongue that slid over his swollen anus.
Voldemort sucked all the harder, encouraged by that beauteous sound, pouring every ounce of his energy into drawing out the salty bitter taste of himself, running his tongue over the heated wet hole as his seed trickled into his mouth, finally decoding to give the boy what he was begging for. Draco cried out as Teeth scraped the ring of muscle between his cheeks and sucked ravenously, the thick forked tongue probing him as deeply as it could manage. He moaned as his eyes rolled from the glorious feel of his master as his back arched head tilting to the side as drool once more dribbled down his chin. Then, just as the sucking became too much to bear, he felt himself being pulled around and into a hungry kiss, Voldemort sucking on his tongue, and allowed draco to finally taste him. He growled throatily and pulled the moaning slut deeper into his embrace as they exchanged the salty liquid from mouth to mouth, gasping with desire. The Dark lord lifted his mouth away to flicker against the younger boy's begging tongue, allowing the remainder of his essence to slide onto it.
Bellatrix watched with insane jealousy, but could do nothing but watch as her master grabbed his servant's throbbing cock, caressing it in an almost loving way. They leaned onto the ground incomprehensible words spilling from their mouths as they ground their naked hips together revelling the glorious friction.
"Master!" he gasped throwing his head back. "Merlin, please more!" The serpent pulled away and spread the lithe legs under him taking a nipple between his teeth and pulled. "Ahhhh master!" the dark lord slammed himself into the boy and made haste into a bruising fast paced rhythm, pounding inside him so deep his thighs smacked against the body beneath him noisily.
"hhhhhhhaaaahhhh...Draco...so beautiful." he hissed. "Let me hear you scream...scream for me Draco."
"MASTEERRR!" the Malfoy child shook in a tearing orgasm, his essence jetting over them both as Voldemort's thrusts quickened fircing himself even deeper, his grunts and moans vibrating through to his ears.
"Gahhh! Ahhh! You want it inside, slut?" he growled wolfishly. Draco shook his head gasping and pleading to the man like a whore.
"Master...ohhh master...please...I want to taste more of you." draco squirmed under him, removing the appendage from himself, and slowly but surely eased around so his head was positioned between voldemorts legs. He shivered at the answering growl as he sucked the the tip of that delicious cock, his masters hips bucking into his mouth. He dragged his tongue up the underside of the pulsing shaft and took its entirity into his caving cheeks and contracting throat, finally tasting the flesh he had been pining for. Voldemort rolled them over and took the boy into his mouth as reward for his inginuity bobbing his heads over and over,lips pursing over his teeth in to increase suction as he reached up and shoved his fingers into Draco's hole, sending moaning vibrations up the child's cock. Merlin he was almost there! In an instant, he rolled himself over again and stood up as Draco lifted his head obediently and opened his mouth in invitation. Voldemort gave his member a final tug and roared out, spilling into the open mouth as it closed over him sucking with gusto, milking him, and swallowing every last drop of what he had to offer. He dropped to his knees, exhausted and captured his lover once more in a kiss bringing Draco to his completion with a single stroke over his fingers. Both of them, at long last, had gone flaccid.
Reluctantly, voldeomort pulled away, a string of saliva connecting their lips for a split second more and Draco collapsed into his master's arms nuzzling into his chest affectionately.
"Mine..." he crooned, purring as the Dark Lord ran his fingers through the child's hair a hidden, but nonetheless adoring smile of agreement ghosting over his lips. He was glad that nobody could see.
"Your's..."
alrighty so there you have it. I know it prolly wasnt what you expected (the smutty part) but I was like, shit...i cant fit smut into this now...i made it too serious. But then I was like, fuck it! I promised smut and the nine hells be damned im givin ya smut! So there you go :3.
*He alone, who owns the youth, gains the future. ~ Adolf Hitler.
* okay so for those of you who read this. I'm just throwing out there that we can, in fact, get wet there. Do NOT ask me how...but we can. Not even I understand it...so yeah. there's a little anatomy lesson for all you fangirls drooling over this. :P
* and another side not. Just in case you didn't catch it. It is not actually anwen at the death eater meeting, its tonks disguised as her.
just for shits and giggles.
Extra: the full and complete dialogue of the simultaneously occurring "oh." scene.
"...Oh, dear." ...-_-'
"...oh, shit." OxO
::...oh, fuck.:: o...o'
"oh, Ron!" ^O^
"oh, Nev!" ^o^
"oh Snape!" -/-
"oh Fillius!" +/+
"oh snape and fillius!" -/o/-
"oh seamus!" x'D
"oh seamus!"x'D
"oh GODS! MY EYES!" X.x...
~oh Filch!~ x3
"oh, mrs. norris!"xO
"oh... hi minerva." o/o
"oh good god! Not again!" T^T
"oh, Draco!"x]
::oh, Master!:: x'O
"oh wow..." '
"oh my god! Bellatrix get OUT!" DDDDx