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Dark Lord Rising	By : Sparrowbirdie Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6505 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, Midsomer Murders or Troy. I make no profit from writing this story. This is a work of fiction.

Chapter List
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Evening came. Draco and Hermione sat down for their evening meal. The children were off to bed. Wilhelmina had just had one of her tantrums again, not accepting Hermione's help at all. It had to be Draco. She was frustrated, and Draco felt to blame. They suddenly heard shouting outside. Both Malfoys stormed to the front door to see, and as they came out, they saw two winged eudaimons hauling a limp person between them, holding on to him under his armpits. The tip of his shoes made two parallel lines across the courtyard as they dragged him towards Melchior's home. Hermione shut the door, took Draco by the hand and dragged him after her.

“It's Snape!” she said, and that made him follow her short distance race over to them. She was right. It was Severus Snape! He was half unconscious, dirty and muddy. His face was pale, and his black hair plastered to it. Melchior opened his door wide and came outside, looking serious.

“Oh Alistair … what have you done?” he said loudly, but none of the eudaimons replied. Then he smiled proudly at Severus.

“My lord ..?!” Draco asked Melchior. His master glanced at him disapprovingly before he turned on his heel and shut the door behind him. Draco and Hermione was left standing in the dark.

“No!” Draco suddenly said. He marched up and tore the door open. He did not – could not – be shut out like this. He stormed up the stairs and turned abruptly to the left. They were just finishing installing Severus. He heard Hermione coming after him, shouting his name with a plea in her voice, afraid he'd do something to upset Melchior. They had installed Severus in the guest room where Draco had stayed during the Easter holiday in his sixth year at Hogwarts. How many times had he not sat on that bed and stared out the window, dreaming of a life with Hermione Granger. Now, he had something close to it. Melchior and another eudaimon – his name was Fionn, if Draco remembered correctly – were in the middle of dressing Severus down, stripping him of his wet and smelly clothing. Standing in the doorway, both Draco and Hermione got to see the black mark on Severus' belly as his shirt was removed. A swastika, with its tentacles swirling against the clock. It was huge, reaching below the hem of his trousers and upwards between Severus' nipples, to his metasternum. Severus was breathing labouredly, laying on the floorboards. He was weak, allowing them to handle him as it pleased them. Draco turned around and hauled Hermione by the arm, going downstairs into the kitchen area. Draco heated water, and found the biggest cup there was, adding plenty of sugar.

«Draco?» Hermione pleaded, «maybe we should go».

“No” he replied as mildly as he could. “That room – is where I spent my Easter during that … year. I sat there on the bed looking out and wondering if I would ever return to Hogwarts and see you again. I wrote my letters to you there. There'sa lot of memories connected to that room. And as for Severus …! Melchior's testing me now. His … rejection outside was deliberate, to see whether or not I'm going to just lay down and die or fight. I have to make this cup of tea for Severus. He has done so much for me, and if I don't do anything for him right now, Melchior's going to take it as a sign of weakness.”

“What can I do?” Hermione said, shifting nervously from one foot to another.

“You should go into Melchior's bedroom and find some fresh clothes for Severus”.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief for a moment. “I can't go in there” she said.

“Of course you can” Draco replied, pouring hot water into the cup. He rummaged around for a decent bag of tea and poured into the cup. “Just treat him as if he was me” Draco told her, winking at her. Hermione folded her arms above her chest and gave him a suspicious glare before she wandered upstairs with hesitant steps. Draco came right behind her, carrying the tea carefully.

Draco stood in the doorway for a moment, just observing the situation. They had stripped him now. Severus seemed not to care that he was naked, and they got him to bed. Draco took a deep breath and entered the room. Melchior was standing by the night stand, watching every step that Draco took.

“I figured you had that thing chained to your bed by now” Fionn said, nodding in Draco's direction. Draco could feel his icy stare drill into his back. His hands shook somewhat as he came close enough to Melchior to smell him, and he focused as he put the cup on the small table next to Severus, who opened his eyes weakly to glance at Draco. He went down on knee before his former professor and took his hand. It looked as if Draco was about to propose. Severus was pale. Paler than usual, and he had a crease on his forehead which Draco hadn't seen before.

“I made you some tea” Draco told Severus softly, and gave him a weak smile.

“I … don't think I can … hold the cup” the elder man answered. “I am glad you're … here” Severus said weakly, squeezing Draco's hand. He also pressed his lips together, indicating a weak smile. Hermione stood in the doorframe. She was holding a collarless shirt, v-shaped neck. White with thin blue stripes.

“Is that my shirt?” Melchior wondered, earning himself a sneer from his winged peer. Draco motioned for her to step into the room, and together, they helped their former Potions master on with the shirt. Fionn withdrew, still wearing a wicked grin. “I can see why he's not in chains” he told Melchior, with approval in his voice.

Hermione and Draco worked together so Severus could sit. Draco helped him with his tea, steadying the cup, bringing it to his lips. They watched as colour returned to his cheeks.

“Draco?” Melchior suddenly said, “downstairs now”. It was an order.

“Can you do without me?” Draco asked Severus. “I believe you're in the capable hands of Hermione. All right?”

Severus nodded. Draco gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving her.

They were waiting, downstairs, talking as he came down.

“My lord?” Draco said, eyeing Melchior, then glancing swiftly at Fionn. Melchior reached for him, and Draco extended his hand, offering it to Melchior. The eudaimon immediately pulled him closer, so closer their bodies were pressed towards one another. Letting go of Draco's hand, Melchior commenced to unbutton Draco's jeans. They fell into a pool around his ankles, and before he could wriggle out of them, Melchior was pulling down his underwear. He gasped in shock. Melchior slipped from his seat and pushed Draco down on the couch. He knelt on the cushions, bracing himself. This was happening quickly. It wasn't the first time it was happening in front of other eudaimons. It was simply something he just had to deal with. Melchior swiftly freed his erection from his confines. When did the eudaimon not have a hard-on going? Draco thought to himself.

“My lord, I haven't coated myself” Draco objected.

“Too bad” was the short reply.

“Please! I'm still sore from yesterday!”

“That's not really my problem” was the obviously disinterested answer. Draco gritted his teeth, gathering that he would just have to get through this pain somehow. He had objected as much as he could, and knowing that Hermione was upstairs with Severus, made him bite down the pain. He whimpered as Melchior's erection, all stiff and loaded to the fullest with blood in every corner of the veins, forced its way inside his sore entrance. Determined to hold back, Draco flinched and tensed. He would not cry. He would not scream! The pain was intense. Melchior had no intention of being forgiving, just as he hadn't shown a hint of mercy at all these past days. Draco knew he was paying the price for his sloppiness. There was no other word for it. The intercourse – or punishment – was next to unbearable. But he had to bear it – for Hermione! He could not scream. It felt as if Melchior's erection had turned into a grater, grinding at his insides. There were no good feelings. No lust, no willingness from Draco's body. It was only pain. It occurred to him that he was truly trapped now. An eudaimon in his belly, and a eudaimon taking him from behind.

When he heard her come down the stairs, Draco hid in the kitchen and pretended to be very busy. He sighed in relief as she left without inquiring after him.

He could hardly walk after Melchior's escapade with him. On his way back, he thought about how demeaning it was, and a stubborn wilful spark lit up in his chest. He felt used. Stained. Unloved and disrespected. Draco opened the front door and walked inside. He could hear she had visitors. It was Harry and Ron. Draco remained in the small hallway when he heard his name being mentioned. He ignored the impulse to just march in and surrender himself into her arms.

“ ...see? You're wearing yourself out! And for what?! Where is Draco now?!” Ron nearly shouted at her. “Whenever I see you, you're always alone with the kids. And he's always out chasing … someone or something.”

“It's not someone! There's no mistress …!” she retorted angrily. Draco shut his eyes and shoved away the impulse to march in and punch Weasley in the face. Cornering his wife like that …! Weasley was incurable.

“Back at Hogwarts you admitted to me that you felt like running. That you felt like a prisoner –!”

“ – I know I said it!” she bit back at Weasley. “I'm so tired I don't know what to think any more.”

“Can't you see he's using you? Do you love him?!”

“I – I don't know –!”

“ – do you love me?! Look me in the eye and say that the kiss we shared in the Chamber of Secrets during the battle of Hogwarts, was more than just a kiss. Cause I know it was! You still love me!” Ron sobbed and shouted. The desperation in his voice was heart-wrenching.

“Draco is a good father. He is kind, and warm, and passionate – !”

“ – and he's also the next dark lord, Hermione!” Ron retorted with hurt and concern in his voice, desperate to make her see his side of things. “You're married to the bloke who will become the next Voldemort!”

“Not if I stay married to him!” she bit back immediately. From where he was hiding, Draco could hear the internal struggle she was facing in her words, the way her voice quivered.

“I do love you, Ron. But if I leave him now, he'll head onto the path which will make him just that. A dark lord.”

“You're his counter-weight” Harry commented quietly. He had been listening passively to the argument so far.

“Who told you that? Did Draco tell you that?” Ron said, ignoring Harry.

“The eudaimon told me that” she retorted angrily. From his secret spot in the hallway, Draco listened to this, knowing it all too well to be true. The feeling that she was trying her best to fit in, to be his wife and the mother of his children but not quite putting her heart into it, was more evident in him than ever. He knew that his love for Hermione was true. As good as gold. Her commitment was one hundred percent, but still there was a sadness in her which she wouldn't share with him. And it had a name. And it was Ron. She had given up her love to rescue the world from the dark lord rising. She was being the heroine, as per usual.
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Dark Lord Rising