Chapter 26
Draco watched the youngest soldiers as they trained in front of their Prince. This training session was of unbelievable import to every soldier as well as Draco himself. Training the soldiers had been his first major assignment in his new, higher position for the Prince, and he was terrified of having displeased the irritable and unpredictable Prince. As Goyle missed yet another counterspell he barely concealed a wince. This was not going as well as he had hoped. He knew full well that each and every mistake would be taken out on his hide. As their primary training commander, it was his fault that they were unprepared.
In his defense though, he had only been given three weeks in which to whip this bunch of young adults (most of them barely post graduate) into proper shape to fight alongside the Death Eaters. Unfortunately for Draco, the Prince was highly unlikely to give a damn how impossible the task assigned to the Malfoy heir had been. The task had gone unfinished, and Draco knew there would be reprisals for that.
A stray curse hit a student from Beauxbatons, Ellis, in the head and he went down like a ton of bricks. Draco fought the urge to rub his forehead in consternation.
"Not a very inspiring lot, are they?" the Prince remarked dryly.
Draco stared at him for a moment, surprised that he was not faced with blind fury and a slew of dark and painful spells. "No," he said hoarsely before clearing his throat. "No, they are not, my Prince."
"Tell me, dragon," Dorian said amiably, still facing the young soldiers and watching the training rather than look at his subordinate. "Can their incompetence be placed on your shoulders, or does it belong somewhere higher?"
Draco paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. He knew well the danger he was in. If he tried to deny his own responsibility and place the blame elsewhere, he would look like a coward. If he accepted it all, then he would look as though he were the sole person responsible. He sent up a quick prayer that a slight equivocation would not be thought to be weak, and therefore worthy of punishment. "Both, my Prince."
"Do elaborate," Dorian said, amused by Draco's nervousness. He was well aware of the thoughts that had just flickered through the young Malfoy's mind.
"I will admit that I did not train the new recruits as thoroughly as I ought to have," Draco said carefully. "I have required eight hours a day, six days a week of training from all of them, regardless of previous talent level. From this display, I can see that I should have had them all move to the Manor to train full time."
Dorian nodded his head at that remark. "I somehow doubt that some of these…specimens…would be up to our standards, even with non stop training."
Draco nodded. "That is my thought as well. The results you see below are partially due to Dumbledore and Maxine, at Beauxbaton. Both of them depend entirely too much on the light magics, and both of them have become increasingly lax in their educational requirements. The standard for professors eligible to teach at both institutions have plummeted in recent years, and the requirements for graduating with a full diploma have decreased exponentially. What we have here are poorly prepared, undereducated students who had no business even leaving school, much less entering an army. My Prince," he tacked in hastily, realizing that he had just run on for entirely too long in the volatile Prince's presence.
Dorian nodded once more, turning the words over carefully in silence. After a further half hour of watching the pathetic display he started toward the training ground. "Walk with me," he ordered Draco.
Draco hurried after Dorian, relieved that he seemed to have escaped a punishment. Although he would certainly not put it past his leader to punish him in front of the new recruits, as an exercise in humility.
The new recruits stopped training immediately upon realizing their Prince was in their presence. They sunk to their knees to await his words.
Dorian looked over the sorry lot slowly. "That display was pathetic," he hissed. "None of you are remotely ready to enter into battle. You are liabilities when you should be assets. You," he snapped, pointing to Parkinson. "And you," he said, pointing to a young man he did not recognize. Both blanched. "You two are the only ones who showed enough talent to make this exercise worth while. You will assist Malfoy in training the rest of these creatures. Until you receive further notice, you will take his orders as mine," he said, making it clear that they reported directly to Draco.
Both soldiers nodded and stepped to Draco's side.
Dorian continued to divide the soldiers into groups, although this time he did not explain what each group would mean. When he finished, he paced through the groups slowly. "You," he said to the largest group, "are completely useless. You will move to Malfoy Manor until further notice. You will follow all orders from Malfoy and his assistants without fail, or you will be brought before the next meeting as entertainment. Should Lord Malfoy deign to instruct you, you had damn well better memorize every move he makes. You should be so lucky as to have such an instructor," he muttered.
The assembled soldiers rustled nervously at this announcement, uncertain whether moving to Malfoy Manor would be a good thing or not. They were all fully aware that they were inexperienced, and that they needed to gain experience, but somehow none of them had ever expected it to come like this. By the same token though, gaining experience in a hard core training camp was a hell of a lot better than being thrown into the field blind, and praying they could survive.
"You," he said to the next largest group. "You will all report to Malfoy Manor by no later than 9 a.m each morning. You will remain until 7 p.m. Should any of you wish it, you may instead move into the manor with the other group. That is not a requirement for you, as you all seem to retain some modicum of ability."
He waited for them to nod their understanding before continuing. "You," he said to the smallest group. The four soldiers fell to their knees again, certain that they would all be forced to leave the army. Crabb, Goyle, Essex and Wolff were quite aware of the fact that they had the least talent of anyone present. And they were all equally aware of the fact that they were unlikely to ever get too much better.
"Your talents are better used elsewhere," Dorian said, hiding his amused smile at their fear. The terror left the small group immediately at his words though, ending his amusement as well. Pity. "Should you choose, you may continue to train with the others. I would recommend coming instead to train at Headquarters. Those of you who choose this option will report tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. Questions?"
"What will these four be doing, my Prince?" Draco asked nervously. He knew that Crabb and Goyle were struggling in his training camp, but he was worried about what the Prince would do to them.
Dorian understood his motivation for asking the question and turned back to the four young men in question. "There is a very small portion on the Death Eaters and Elite who serve in a manner different from the average soldier. Crabb, Goyle, your fathers are two of these members. My godfather, Remus Lupin, is also one. All told, there are only ten members at the moment, although I believe the four of you will fit in well. I can reveal no more information at this time. Lupin and Goyle will provide details tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, my Prince," Draco said, bowing low.
"Carry on," Dorian replied, turning to leave the training field. "Draco, follow me," he ordered when it was clear the blond did not realize he should accompany his Prince.
Draco rushed to catch up. "How may I serve you, my Prince?"
"Are you pleased with my orders?" Dorian asked blandly.
"Yes, sir," Draco said immediately. "The additional time to train will be well used."
"If it is not, I will take it out on your hide," Dorian said calmly, not betraying the slightest hint of irritation. "I will come to reinspect within the month. There will be a marked improvement by then."
Draco nodded eagerly. "Of course." He paused for a moment, trying to drum up the courage to ask his next question. "Might I bring in other assistance in training them, my Prince?" he asked hesitantly.
"Whom would you bring to the Manor?"
"My aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. And Rodolphus Lestrange. I cannot think of any others at this point."
"You may bring both Lestranges in, whenever they wish it. You will seek my approval or Lord Voldemort's before bringing in any others. You may inform the new recruits that if they do not pass my inspection, your replacement will be Walden Macnair. I trust that will encourage them sufficiently," he said, raising an eyebrow at Draco.
Draco nodded fearfully again. Merlin, Macnair would slaughter the young soldiers. They would be lucky if a handful made it through his training alive. "Thank you for your trust, my Prince," he said humbly.
"You may return to your charges," Dorian said, waving him away. Draco left as quickly as he could, making Dorian sigh in pleasure. Merlin he was pleased to be away from that lot. He couldn't wait to get back to his Master's rooms. The week that he was completely out of commission due to the mating urges had thrown everyone for a loop. He now felt massively behind schedule. He had originally planned to be in Hogsmeade by the end of this week, but that would have to be pushed back at least a few days.
He reached his room and pushed open the doors eagerly. Severus looked up from his book, setting the thick tome aside and sitting up in his chair. "How did it go?"
Dorian started shrugging his robes off. "They're pathetic. I don't know if they'll be ready to enter into active duty before this whole thing is over."
"That bad?" Severus asked; shocked to think that the war could possibly be over before the new recruits would be ready to fight in it.
Dorian nodded and slipped to his knees to his Master's right. "A handful aren't too bad, but the rest…" he sighed. "Draco certainly has his hands full. Thank Merlin I gave him that task instead of taking it on myself. I would have killed half of them by now."
"Will you and Ginevra be ready to move to the shop by the end of the week?" Severus asked, stroking his pet's dark curls soothingly.
Dorian shook his head. "I don't think so. By the middle of the next week though, we should be able to. When do you have to go back to Dumbledore?"
"In two weeks," Severus said heavily. "We have been lucky thus far in our reprieve. From what I can tell, Dumbledore's popularity has faded with each week that he has been unable to present the Boy Who Lived to the populus who is even yet clamoring for his presence. No one seems to be able to decide if Harry Potter is dead, or has been kidnapped by Voldemort or if he is being hidden away by Dumbledore. At any rate, their blind trust has been shaken. It is the perfect time for the Death Eaters to begin to make their move."
"We have already infiltrated the hospitals and the Ministry. Ginevra and I are working on the students. We need to make a big push into the general public as much as possible. We need a Death Eater working in as many businesses as possible. We need them to be spreading discontent in as many markets as can be reached, talking up the shoppers at every turn. We need—"
"I know," Severus said, resting his hand gently on his overworked pet's cheek. "Tonight though, you can do no more. You and Voldemort have prepared as many Death Eaters as possible and they should be ready to move into place soon. You have done all you can to prepare. Now it is time to relax for the evening."
Dorian sighed but conceded the point. His Master was right, as always. No need to get worked up this late at night.
"How are you doing, pet?" Severus asked gently.
Dorian shifted restlessly. "I don't know, Sir," he whispered. "I am…happy that I carry your youngling. And I'm scared. And mad."
Severus laughed lightly. "All of which are legitimate feelings, given the circumstances. I have been working with the Elite in an attempt to halt the pregnancy safely. If we cannot halt it…well, we will deal with that in a few months."
"You won't make me abort it?" Dorian asked softly, his fear evident.
Severus gripped his chin and forced the boy to meet his eyes. "I would never ask such a thing of you. Nor would I allow it. This pregnancy is ill-timed; I am the first to admit that. But it has happened, and there is no going back now. I am pleased that you are carrying my child."
Dorian searched his eyes for a moment, before smiling. "Me too," he said softly.
Severus reached over to the table and lifted up a long, thin box. He presented it hesitantly to his pet. "In celebration of the conception of our child," he said, holding it out to Dorian.
Dorian's stared at the box with wide eyes, before reaching out to take the box. He ran his long fingers up and down the white box for a long moment, enjoying every moment of this rare treat. Gifts were rare in his life, and even rarer still from his Master, who usually preferred physical gestures of appreciation as opposed to gifts. "Master," he said, words failing him in his attempt to express his pleasure and his thankfulness and his unworthiness of whatever the gift might be.
"Open it, pet," Severus said, smiling his understanding.
Dorian drew the lid off of the box slowly, and gasped loudly when he saw the gift. A thick, heavily bejeweled collar fit inside the box, the gold and emeralds glinting in the firelight. "Master?" he asked hesitantly, feeling even more uncertain of such a beautiful gift.
Severus reached down and lifted the heavy collar from the box. "It has been charmed to remain invisible to all but those who know the truth of our relationship." He ran his potion stained fingers over the jewels that spelled out "pet", feeling the spell throb under his fingertips. "You may apply your own concealing spells on top of mine, should you wish." He knew that it was unlikely for anyone to be able to break through his spells, but it would be impossible for anyone to break through Dorian's spellwork.
Dorian nodded, his eyes still glued to the sparkling, beautiful collar.
"Turn around," Severus said. When Dorian made no move to obey he chuckled and pushed the boy around. Before Dorian could move again to look back at the collar he slipped it around his neck and fastened the latch so that it fit tightly around the boy's neck. "There," he said, handing him a mirror so he could see it again.
Dorian gasped at the sight of the collar around his slim neck. "It is so beautiful, Master," he whispered, fingering the letters on the collar. "Pet doesn't deserve this."
"Hush," Severus said, petting him again to keep him calm. "Are you going to question your Master over every little move he makes?"
Dorian shook his head frantically and handed the mirror back. He leaned against Severus' knee with a contented sigh, his hand still stroking the beautiful collar.