This work is in no way related to J.K. Rowling and entirely my own plot line. This is a reposted work from a few years ago when I wrote on this site as EmiriiVamon. Unfortunately I can't access that account anymore so I'm reposting my work here. I will be updating it regularly, if you read it back in 2008 with new chapters.

Thanks for reading! Please review!

Chapter 2

The day had come to say good-bye to yet another successful transformation. Ron and Draco stood before the Dark Lord in their robes, hoods back. In the face of Voldemort's circle they were the only two who showed no fear by revealing their faces.

"Good work, gentlemen." Voldemort looked down at the kneeling child between his two most devoted followers. His voice was a cold hiss that matched the serpentine appearance and echoed throughout the underground meeting cavern underneath his newest war prize. The room was stone; heat seemed to be unable to get a good grip and stick around.

"Thank you, milord." The two men said in unison. Between them James knelt shaking. The thin pair of shorts he wore insufficient clothing for the icy temperatures assaulting his six-year old body.

"Your name child." Voldemort said pointing to James. The boys eyes went wide in fear. He had no name; at least not one he could remember. His masters had never given him one; they'd taken care of him. Taken the pain away. If they gave him no name then he had none. He looked up at Ron imploringly.

"What do I call you?" Ron said, giving the boy a reassuring smile.

That's right! He'd almost forgotten. They had given him a name. "Pet. My name is Pet." He looked up at Voldemort, pleased with himself. He could answer the snakeman.

"Your parents are?"

This time without hesitation Pet reached up and grabbed Ron and Draco's hand. "Masters." He presented the hands to Voldemort with pride. He had parents, proud parents.

A smile curved the Dark Lord's face in a strange split across his face. It was as close as he came to grinning. "Very good. Finish the final stage."

"Thank you." Ron and Draco bowed, retreating from the crowded chamber with their young charge.

Outside the chamber Draco picked Pet up and magicked a blanket to wrap around him.

"Was I good?" He asked snuggling close to Draco's chest in affection. It wasn't often he was treated with such blatant tenderness; he was going to cherish it. Ron wrapped a hand around the boys neck, kissing his forehead.

"You were perfect, Pet."

Ron turned his head slightly and gave Draco a full open-mouthed kiss. Pet didn't even shift; he was used to such displays from the two men and loved to watch them whenever they couldn't resist the urge to touch each other. He felt safe wedged between the two warm bodies—cherished.

They broke apart after a few more heated moments then continued down the curving stone corridors back to their own chambers. The men talked mutedly about future plans that Pet didn't understand. He heard them whisper about a new child and perked up. He didn't want to share them. They were his fathers. He clutched the expensive robes tighter, making Draco glare down. You don't wrinkle the material. Rule number one. Quickly Pet loosened his angered hold. They were his.

Back in their chambers two women stood next to the open terrace doors. The delivery service. Waist length purple hair hung the waists of both women; bright orange eyes confirmed they were twins. Shadow Stalkers was their official title; the last three children they'd taken had been delivered by these two women and returned a few months later back to their rightful homes. If no longer loved. Ron closed his eyes and took a breath. It was time to let another one go. At least he'd acquired someone new quickly. Draco's bruises hadn't yet faded from their last venting bout and he hated over using his lover.

"He's all set. Make sure is trip is comfortable." Draco said with a tight voice. This wasn't any easier for him. It didn't matter that they'd eventually return back to him. They were his children now.

The women bowed to Draco.

"Place this somewhere obvious. It'll take them forever to find it." Ron handed a sealed envelope with the Dark Mark the women on the left while the lady on the right reached for Pet. The boy began struggling in earnest as comprehension stretched across his tired face.

"NO! What did I do?!" He shrieked clinging to Draco with his life while staring at Ron with imploring eyes. Ron dug his nails into his fist till blood made the fingers slip out of their holding.

"Shhh..quiet now Pet. You have to go." Draco spoke calmly, brushing shaggy hair out of his face.

Ron took him away and sat with him on his lap.

"Listen, Pet. We need your help."

That got the boys attention and he stopped crying to sniffle, looking at Ron with interest. Anything to help his family. Ron continued,

"We need you to stay with these people for awhile. They want to hurt us, our lord and our home. Stay with them and be strong. Listen for information, trust no one," Ron stopped for a second, glancing at Draco, "except for a young girl. They call her Tanya, but her name is Kitten. She's your sister, she's helping us with information too. Let her know we're still coming. Give her news and comfort. Do you understand?"

Pet nodded. His masters were sending him away. He was finding it hard to think he hadn't done something wrong.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, hoping to make up for what ever he'd done.

Draco knelt down beside. "You've done nothing wrong. We will come back for you. We promise."

Pet swallowed the new wave of tears and looked at the only two people he could remember caring for him.

Ron handed him to the waiting Shadow Women.

"Remember" he said as they drifted out the window. "They are the enemy. Never forget that."

Pet smiled at them. They needed him, he thought. They NEEDED him. Nothing could be more important than that. "Promise." He said as the shadows swallowed him.

"Can we watch?" Draco inquired after Pet had vanished completely. He rubbed against Ron in a distinctly feline manner. Ron pulled him in tight, purposefully pressing on a particularly dark bruise. Draco hummed at the pain.

"If you want, love." Ron pulled him down on the couch to stare into the fireplace. He flicked his wrist and a replica of the orbs they sent to the parents rested on the coffee table. Stupid Harry never took them out of the house, which left them the perfect front row view of the goings on at his old mate's house.

Harry hadn't slept in two weeks, not even dreamless sleep potions were working. Hermione was back at his house again, curled up on the living room couch. It had been four months. They were waiting now. Wondering if they'd follow pattern. She knew that if they did it wouldn't be his son that came home. Harry had been a nervous wreck since the four month mark. Any day now he should be returned. The aurors thought that was the best idea; catch them during delivery. Hermione doubted it would work since they'd tried the same thing when Tanya had been returned.

"We'll get through this Harry." Hermione said; she didn't believe it for a second, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. Earlier that week Tanya had become violent, attacking anyone who came near her or called her Tanya.

"Kitten! My name is Kitten!" was all she kept repeating, spitting it in people's faces like venom.

After that Ministry officials had sent her to Mungo's to be officially identified as Tanya Granger-Krum. She was—physically anyway. Mentally her mind was shattered, unable to remember a time when she hadn't been known as Kitten.

"James will be fine Hermione. I'll fix him. And Tanya too. I'll figure out a way."

Hermione smiled, she knew he couldn't. In this situation the great Boy-Who-Lived was going to fail. At least one of them still had hope.

A few hours of tense silence later a crash resounded from upstairs. James' room.

Wands out the two rushed upstairs. Harry was in front an eager expression on his strained face. Harry threw the door open and rushed inside the Quidditch themed room. The rack of broomsticks along the far wall had fallen down. Six broomsticks were scattered across the floor; one for each birthday his son had celebrated.

"Who's here?" Harry said rushing to the center of the room. Wood cracked under his feet, which he ignored. Hermione hung back. She knew this scene.

A whimper came from the closet. Harry ripped the doors off to reveal James curled up in the farthest, darkest corner. He was shivering in fear as Harry got closer. Hermione swore he was glaring at him.

"Oh, James. It's okay now son. Daddy's here."Harry said creeping closer. The bundle tried to back away from Harry's outstretched hands.

"Harry…" Hermione said nervous.

"Shhh…" Harry said, "It's okay James."

Ignoring the obvious whines and struggles Harry pulled James out of the closet. He began struggling doubly when he was forced into a hug.

"It's me James. Your dad."

The young boy stilled, staring up at Harry with searching green eyes. Hermione almost allowed hope in that he would remember his father.

"No." was all he said before renewing his struggles.

Harry tightened his hold, tears beginning to fall. "James.."

"NO!" James screamed this time, clawing at harry's face.

Hermione had to turn away. It was the same, nothing. She was so tired of nothing. No recognition, no love, no nothing.

"Tanya."

Hermione spun back to stare at James. "I wanna see Tanya."

Harry could only stare at the being that bore his son's face. Black hair, green eyes, emancipated body. He was filthy and matted, yet managed to sound spoiled and superior.

"Okay James. Okay."

The boy winced when Harry said his name but didn't renew his tantrum. Without a word Hermione apparated home to retrieve her daughter. It was going to be another sleepless night.

Draco Malfoy lay naked on the four-poster King size bed he shared with Ron Weasley. Black silk caressed his heated back, a deep red comforter lay pooled at the foot of the bed. Pillows were scattered everywhere, some ripped. Next to him Ron was asleep on some of the remaining intact pillows. With a wicked smile Draco rolled over and straddled the red head. He traced lazy patterns over his pale flesh with a sharpened nail. The Dark Lord had given them a week of rest, but Draco didn't feel much like resting. With their new acquirement enjoying solitary confinement he and his love were Actually off duty—that never happened. Ron mumbled a curse in his sleep and tried to roll away form the roving hands. Draco laughed to himself. This was the best part of the day, waking Ron up. Draco was a notorious mid morning person, while Ron was a definite afternoon, sleep until 2 kind of person.

"Wake up Ron." Draco leaned down to breathe in his ear.

"Fuck off." Ron mumbled, attempting to roll away again. Draco clenched his thighs, holding his in place.

"it's 11:30 love." Draco's hands roamed lower, tangling in coarse hair.

"Too early." Ron wriggled in an attempt to escape. Draco watched realization chase sleepiness of the freckled face. As realization of what was holding him in place dawned like the well risen sun Ron forced his eyes open. The blond he'd forsaken everything for grinned down at him with a wicked gleam. Tiredness disappeared altogether at Draco's sudden thrust. The friction forced his body to reciprocate and soon they were both sweaty.

"Devilspawn." Ron grouched pulling Draco flush against his quickly heating body. They lay there chest to chest, kissing open and hard. Tongues battled for dominance. Ron won as usual. Impatient with the bottom position Ron flipped them over to renew his attack on Draco's body. With enough force to bruise he gripped Draco's hips to grind down.

Draco was in bliss—this was his greatest pleasure. In front of everyone else Draco was a hardcore sadist with no heart, but with Ron that changed behind closed doors. The clingy masochist inside him escaped and clung Ron like a lifeline attached to his sadism. In private he acted like a cat, purring and rubbing up against him in contentment and need. He begged for any attention, good or bad, it was routine. When it came down to loyalties they only truly answered to each other. Ron pulled the blonde's hair roughly as he entered him. "Mine."

Draco bit his neck. "Yours." Desperate for contact Draco raked his hands down Rons back shredding skin. Together they rolled across the bed, leaving droplets of blood behind.

A/N

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