Chapter 58

July 4, 1997

"Draco, my lad," Voldemort greeted, his lipless mouth widening in mockery of a smile as Draco walked into the ballroom. "I'm so pleased that you were able to join us."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," Draco stated, feeling the Dark Lord tapping on his occlumency shields. He kept his face studiously neutral as though he felt nothing untoward at all. After the space of a few breaths, the Dark Lord pulled back.

"Such a dutiful boy," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes flashing. "I have a little reward for you." He gestured towards the six Death Eaters kneeling before him. Draco could practically smell the fear on them. He was pretty sure the one on the far left had pissed himself.

Pathetic.

"These Death Eaters have displeased me," Voldemort flashed his fangs at the men on their knees. Draco stood there waiting as that couldn't be all that the Dark Lord was planning to say, but the wizard liked to use silence like a bludger. "I need you to punish them for me. A cruciatius or ten should do."

Ah, so his reward was a punishment.

He felt his father's eyes on him from across the room, but he didn't bother to acknowledge the man who was the source of so much pain.

Draco raised his wand and began. After three hours, it seemed as though the Dark Lord's goal was for him to fail. He felt dizzy and like his knees were going to buckle, but he looked up and met Theo's eyes. The terror in them helped Draco pull a second wind. He couldn't fail now.

He doubted that he would survive the night if he did.

It would just serve as one more source of entertainment for the watchers.

*

July 5, 1997

"You've lingered in bed too long," Theo said, throwing open the curtains in Draco's pitch black room.

"I'm exhausted," Draco admitted with a groan, pulling his pillow over his face to block out the painful light.

"You need to build up your stamina," Theo advised sternly, refusing to be put off. "I've prepared a training room for us. We're going to start exercising and duelling whenever we aren't summoned to him. It's the only way for us to survive this. Can you imagine what he would have done if you hadn't been able to use the Cruciatus on all those sorry wankers?"

Draco shuddered. "I almost passed out, more than once. If it hadn't been for the bond…" He trailed off, knowing exactly what would have happened to him.

He would have taken their place on his knees. Their punishment would have been his own.

He rose from the bed, but his legs were shaking, so he immediately sat back down with a frown. "You are right. First off, let's get some food."

"I already had the elves bring some up; it's better that others don't see you weak like this. The Dark Lord has fucked off who knows where, so we have a little time to get you back to rights. You need to get yourself sorted out. That means three meals a day and sleeping every night. You've been burning the candle at both ends for months. And you can't die, my love. Hermione and I can't live without you."

Theo offered his hand and pulled him to the table that the house elves had prepared on the terrace with enough food to feed at least a dozen. Aware that his energy was currently limited, Draco leaned his head on Theo's shoulder and let himself be led.

*

July 17, 1997

Grimmauld Place

Rather than return to the Burrow, Hermione had just stayed at Grimmauld Place. The only people consistently in and out of it these days were Kingsley, Mad-eye (the real one) and Tonks. Amazingly, Mad-eye had interceded with Molly for her when the woman insisted Hermione return to the burrow.

"Molly, she's not your ward and she can't get into any trouble here," Mad-eye pointed out. "She just reads all day." His voice lowered. "Have you considered being in a house with so many lads is not best for her? What if there were any accusations of impropriety on your sons' parts?" He winked at Hermione and clucked his tongue through the floo.

"Why my sons would never…I run a light household Alastor…I can't believe that you'd insinuate such a thing!" Molly shrieked. Hermione covered her mouth to keep the laughter from escaping.

"Be that as it may, leave the lass be, Molly," Mad-eye said, focusing his magical eye on the other woman, then snuffing out the floo connection when she continued to make unintelligible comments.

"Thanks, Professor Moody sir," Hermione said. "It just was far too crowded for me there, and here I have my own room."

"I'm not your Professor," he groused. "And don't think that private room wasn't noticed by people in the Order. Won't be surprised if Black left you some portion of all these misbegotten gains. Molly's likely hoping this house will come to Arthur when all is said and done." The older scarred man huffed. "Just keep an eye on the bloody house elf and we'll be square. I'm not quite sure who his master is so I want to know that he's here and kept busy."

"That shouldn't be a problem, sir," Hermione promised.

"Perfect. Only a handful of people are even through here and no one you need worry about," Mad-eye was already sorting through the maps and papers he had spread over the large table. He seemed to forget she was standing there for a minute, and then bit out this eye turning wildly to look at her. "What are you still doing here girl?"

Hermione, wisely, made herself scarce.

*

July 19, 1997

Malfoy Manor

The training room had been stripped of everything of value and the floor covered in rugs that had permanent cushioning and indestructibility charms woven into their fabric. The long gallery was adequate for what Draco and Theo needed it for, perhaps not as perfect as the Come and Go Room, but they were more than able to make do.

"Again!" Theo commanded with a yell that echoed through the room. "Again!"

Draco shot off another volley of hexes, rolling this way and that as Theo sent his own dark spells back with gusto, deviating from his favourites to keep Draco on his toes.

They were both shirtless and drenched in sweat as they cast again and again. Theo knocked Draco off his feet with a Bombarda, and the blonde went tumbling to the floor, the air knocked out of him for a minute. Crossing the duelling ring, Theo kneeled next to him with a smile.

"Do you yield?" Theo grinned with a mischievous wink in his eye, pulling Draco up as he stood. They wrapped their sweaty arms around each other's waists, Draco pressing a kiss into Theo's throat.

"I yield," Draco murmured into Theo's skin, ready to yield more than the duel. Theo's hot skin against his was slick and he thought they both might be ready to take a long shower together, when clapping began from across the makeshift gym, sending them both whirling, wands clenched in their outstretched hands.

Lucius and Thoros Nott stood there, their expressions as blank as slates, but both applauding softly. Their long elegant perfectly manicured hands hitting each other just the right amount to not be considered gauche.

"Well done, Theodore," Lord Nott said, with a measured look. "I honestly didn't think that you were capable. You'll rise in the Dark Lord's ranks quickly if you show this much enthusiasm on missions."

Draco felt overly aware of their partial nakedness. He stood as still as he could fighting the urge to summon a shirt or cover up in some way.

"And while, Lucius and I can clearly appreciate the closeness of your friendship." The word wasn't dripping with scorn as Draco might have imagined and his surprise was erased when the words that followed left Theo's father's lips. "After the war you will both take separate virginal Pureblood brides. You aren't like the Lestrange brothers, so you simply won't be allowed to share a wife."

"Paternity spells exist for a reason, father," Theo pointed out with an unconcerned expression, denying nothing, but acting as though there was any possibility of them marrying anyone other than their soul-bonded witch. As though this conversation wasn't based on an absolute moot point.

Thoros pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in warning. "While triad marriages are common enough in the Sacred 28, or were prior to the last Blood War, I don't want you two to imagine that your friendship will ever be more than what it is."

*

Theo didn't bother arguing, for the bride that he and Draco wanted would never be permitted by their fathers.

"You are the heirs to two of the most Ancient Houses of Wizardkind," Lucius commented, his tone blasé. "If you want your friendship to continue, you will remember to do as you are told." The words made Theo feel the threat in his bones.

Lucius wasn't above torture, spells, potions or an Imperius curse to get what he wanted done. Draco's father was still a little rough around the edges from being in Azkaban, but his knowledge of the Dark Arts was nearly unmatched. Neither young wizard wanted to test him.

If Lucius even suspected that the two young men were in a relationship with Hermione, it would be deadly for her. And Thoros would assuredly help slaughter the witch Theo and Draco adored.

Even if one of their secrets was revealed, then the other needed to be guarded all that much more seriously.

Both young men nodded, the vision of obedient scions of their house.

Their performances needed to be impeccable going forward.

"Clean yourself up and then attend me, Theodore," his father ordered. "I'll be in Lucius' office."

"Of course, father," Theo replied, hoping he would be ending the night crucio'd into a fetal position. He rather thought it was a fool's hope.

*

July 20, 1997

Full Moon Revel

The werewolves howled outside the Manor. The occasional woman's scream was always cut off suddenly and Draco tried not to think about what was happening outside. He kept his occlusion walls strong, hiding his nerves at attending their first Revel.

Thankfully his father was not in good enough standing to attend, but Theo's father was across the Manor foyer looking in their direction.

Crossing the room with a scowl, Thoros grabbed Theo's arm and pulled up Theo's sleeve roughly, revealing the snake and skull embedded into his flesh.

"No one without a Mark is allowed at a Revel. Revels are a reward for the Dark Lord's most loyal servants," Thoros hissed at his son. "Don't embarrass me while you are within," before returning to the rest of the inner circle who were awaiting the opening of the doors to the Malfoy Manor ballroom. Draco's fingernails bit into his palms. Someday he would make Thoros Nott pay, but not tonight. Tonight, the Dark Lord's elite would be enjoying an evening of their preferred entertainment.

What happened at the Dark Lord's Revels wasn't a secret. Death Eaters bragged about their crimes over tumblers of fire whiskey. Draco and Theo were prepared to do whatever it took to keep themselves above any kind of suspicion. And that meant blending in with what the other dark wizards were about.

The doors opened and the Death Eaters, maskless and unafraid, strolled into the ballroom as though it was a holiday gala. The room already smelled of blood and piss, the offerings lined up along one the walls were hardly in the best of condition. Blood splattered faces and clothes. Those that had been wearing kohl or whatever Muggles wore around their eyes had it streaking their cheeks. It was from them that the stink of piss emanated. Draco didn't even have to fake his sneer of contempt when he looked over them.

Young nubile girls and boys were offered for 'entertainment' during revels, and many of the Death Eaters fed off of their feelings of fear. The Muggles had no idea what was in store for them, even if they'd been snatched by Greyback. The Death Eaters wouldn't hold anything back tonight.

And the Dark Lord, sitting on a throne on the dias, surveyed all of it with what passed for pleasure on his snake-like face, especially when darling Aunt Bella placed herself on his lap suggestively. Draco looked away from the sight, his face as blank as occlusion could make it.

Dolohov licked a girl's tears in sick pleasure, euphoric at her terror. The bloody pervert looked like he was going to finish in his trousers. The poor girl was shaking, but unable to escape him. Dolohov's dacryphilia would be the least of her problems tonight, it would be too much to hope that he'd kill her quickly. She'd beg for death before he was done playing with her.

Draco hadn't forgotten that he still owed Dolohov for Hermione's injuries that night in the Department of Mysteries. He shook it off, because he needed to wait to make the bastard suffer.

The row of bound Muggle and Muggle Born girls were clearly hysterical, and Draco felt Theo blanch next to him, so he carefully whispered in his ear, "Let's walk around and survey the kind of games that are being played. Talk to a few people, compliment their methods and then grab one by her hair and drag her out to play with in private." Draco looked about at the crowd, they were the youngest in the room by a good decade or more, and no one really wanted them there. Next Revel, Crabbe and Goyle would be Marked. He had no idea how quickly they'd rise in the ranks, they were both desperate to please their fathers. As he had been once upon a time.

Theo gulped. "And if it doesn't work?"

"I'll use the Cruciatus a few times on whoever argues and we throw the girl over my shoulder and walk out." Draco lacked any kind of doubt in his voice as he spoke.

Theo nodded, concerned their private conversation would draw attention. "No brunettes," he muttered.

"No brunettes," Draco agreed without hesitation, his eyes leaving Theo to survey the room and heading toward the bar on the opposite end of the room.

Theo followed in his wake, their plan quickly moving into action. They both just had to pretend that they weren't struggling with nausea as other men tortured and raped all around them.

Once they had one of the blood soaked girls in the privacy of Draco's room, then Theo spent a good hour or more puking while Draco healed her. He vomited until his stomach was empty and the heaving was dry, his body wracked in pain.

When he finally finished, Draco was sitting next to the unconscious girl with his head in his hands.

"Dragon, love," Theo murmured. "What's wrong?"

"Beyond the obvious?" He didn't even look up, palms digging into his eyes. "I don't have any kind of plan to get her out. She'll have to go back into the dungeons. She'll be played with another night or any time someone gets bored during guard duty."

Theo nodded. "We need to come up with a better plan before the next Revel."

Draco huffed in agreement, pulling his coin from under his shirt and sending a message.

Missing you.

*

July 21, 1997

Summer holidays continued their trend of being literal hell on earth for Draco and Theodore, both considered rising stars amongst the Death Eaters. They'd put buildings to the torch in Diagon Alley and elsewhere, threatened Wizengamot members, tortured, maimed, whatever the Dark Lord ordered. Thoros bragged about their duelling prowess and that just made the demands placed on them even higher. They couldn't falter, couldn't fail.

They were invited to nearly every event that the Dark Lord hosted, to their carefully concealed horror. Today was the entire extended crowd, even Lucius and Narcissa were in the room.

The Dark Lord was holding court in Malfoy Manor's dining room, every eye on him or on the parody of a guest hovering bound in spells above the dining table.

His commanding voice was dripping with disgust as he continued the monologue that had been going on for some time now. "Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the pure-bloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance... She would have us all mate with Muggles..." the Dark Lord's disgust at the Muggle Studies professor was apparent as the sobbing woman floated above the dining table.

The blood had fled her face and the tears ran down her cheeks, dripping on the table top.

"Severus, please. We're friends," the witch sobbed, looking at Snape who stared back with a blank expression.

Voldemort had it with Burbage and cast, "'Avada Kedavra." The flash of green killed her instantly. Nobody flinched.

"Nagini, dinner," the Dark Lord cooed to his beloved pet.

The sickening wet sound of the giant snake striking again and again made Theo's gut clench, and then the Dark Lord let the professor's body fall to the table top with a horrifying crunch. The snake slowly unhinged its jaw and swallowed the crone while all the Death Eaters watched on.

Bellatrix was clearly enjoying the depravity, but even sick fucks like Dolohov had Adam's Apples bobbing anxiously, clearly unnerved by the snake's ravenous appetite. There was no one there who'd be safe from Nagini if the Dark Lord wished it otherwise.

Theo believed that was his intent, and as he carefully gazed about the room, he saw that their master had been more than successful.

*

July 25, 1997

Hermione felt anticipation mounting in the calm early hours. Harry had been sent back to his aunt and uncles after she'd left the Burrow and tonight the top calibre members of the Order would be going out to retrieve him. With Harry around, her current retreat wouldn't be quiet for that much longer

She rose early and wandered through Grimmauld Place. She straightened the name signs on each door, sitting in Regulus' room for a bit and wondering what possessed him to move against the Dark Lord as she often did when she was alone.

She sat with her feet out one of the second floor windows watching Muggle London slowly wake up. She knew that this had been a quiet lull for her, no Weasleys, no drama, no Harry around to piss her off.

That morning Remus and Tonks showed up at Grimmauld and surprised Hermione, who was reading in the lounge with Kreacher busily serving her breakfast. The elf was so grateful for some direction that he only complained for a few seconds now before stomping off to do as she asked. He complained the entire time of course, but he did it. And honestly that was all Hermione wanted.

She'd nearly spilled her tea all over the priceless blood magic tome she was studying when the two of them walked into the room holding hands. She blinked repeatedly, sure that she was somehow seeing things.

"What's this about?" Hermione blurted, her confusion surely on her face.

"Remus and I've gotten married," Tonks proclaimed, flopping down next to Hermione on the sofa. "At the Ministry this morning. Height of romance an elopement is, you know."

Snorting, Remus added, "We're practising the hand-holding bit to sell the whole thing."

"Can't be looking awkward and uncomfortable when we tell the rest of the Order can we." Tonks sighed. "What I want is a bloody drink, but that's shot to hell now isn't it."

"I feel like I'm missing some important information here," Hermione offered, closing her book with a dull thunk.

Remus tiredly sat down across from the witches, looking at Tonks briefly before informing Hermione, "Dora is pregnant and her on-again off-again lover can't claim their son."

"Can't. Won't. Is being a bloody coward about it. Gryffindor my arse. Should have been a Slytherin. Self-serving son of…" Tonks cut herself off at Remus' stern look.

"So I've stepped in and will pretend to be the little one's father and that we are madly in love."

Hermione tried to hold back her snort, looking at the two of them as if they'd gone mad. "Is this really necessary?" Her gaze darted between the two of them.

"Being an unwed mother isn't an option in the wizarding world, Hermione. Not if I want to keep being an Auror. And being a stay-at-home mum was never a dream of mine." Tonks shrugged. "I wasn't planning this, but here we are."

"Hermione," Remus began, taking her hand. "You are the only person we are telling the truth to. And we are trusting you to keep it to yourself. I've told Dora that you can be trusted. I have to believe that Sirius would want me to do this." Tears lingered in Remus' eyes as he looked at her beseechingly. "I can't have you angry with me."

"Oh Remus!" Hermione hugged him, "I couldn't be angry with you. Either of you."

Hermione steeled herself, trying to find some of the courage that had gotten her sorted into Gryffindor in the first place. "Tonks, I have a secret or two to share with you too."