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The First Horcrux	By : magentasouth Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 27246 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from any part of the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Tom smiled nastily, listening for the sound of the door or
the floo.� When it did not come he
instructed Draco, in a quiet voice, to close the door.� Draco grew even more frightened as he
complied, stammering at him while Tom was trying to concentrate on detecting
ambient spells in the room.
�What.. what
are you going to do to me?!� he quailed.�

Tom shushed him impatiently, struggling to concentrate.�

There were three different detection
and eavesdropping spells in the room.� He
had not even noticed Snape cast them.� It
took a further minute to destroy them, his eyes unfocussed as he struggled with
the ephemeral traces to disable them.�

Draco, thankfully, stood all the while frozen in dread. �The boy probably didn�t know what Tom was
doing, which was good � if he�d chosen to attack him then, Tom would have been
hard pressed to react in time and the other boy was physically far stronger �
as he remembered clearly from his last acquaintance with him � Tom would not
have been able to retaliate and throw Draco off while one of the detection
spells dropped by Snape was sniffing for magic.�

Finally satisfied that the room was no longer �bugged�, Tom cast a strong
sticking spell on the door and threw up a muffling charm.
�Now.. That�s better, isn�t it� he
said conversationally.� �How are you, Draco?� I have to say, I was beginning to wonder
whether you would return at all.. and,
to judge from your behaviour today, It does not seem that you were intending to
do so...�
Draco swallowed thickly and, with a miserable expression,
dropped to his knees, lowering his eyes.

�I.. I�m sorry.��
Truly sorry, I mean.�� For my..my
behaviour.. last time... I realise that I deserved to
...� to...�� he gulped
again.� �To.. die.. for daring to ..uh... take liberties.. that
is... not doing whatever you.. you ordered..� The Dark Lord p-punished me..
and.. and you can punish me.. I will make amends for...failing so
completely.
Tom smiled wider, delighted at the change in the arrogant
blonde.

�I am pleased to hear it.� Perhaps I will
punish you later.� Have you a message for me then?�
Draco nodded unhappily and crawled forward on his knees
reluctantly till he knelt on the floor beside the bed, at Tom�s feet.�

After a few seconds of hesitation, he reached for the waistband of his school
jersey and pulled it up and over his head, dropping it uncaring on the floor
beside him.� His school shirt followed,
to Tom�s fascination.�
Was this somehow the message?� Or was it perhaps hidden upon the boy
somewhere?��
His eyes took in the sharp pale regal lines of the youngest Malfoy�s
body, mentally comparing him to Harry, who he had been so recently
appreciating.��

If anything, Draco was more perfectly formed: taller, more powerfully built,
his shoulders broader, his muscles more defined, his
hair perpetually silky and impeccably styled.�

Touching Draco had not evoked the same pleasure as touching Harry though.� And Tom had always found himself more drawn
to brunettes.. (such as the rogueish Alphard Black.� He hoped idly that his other self had at some
point led the younger student to his bed.)��

Draco was, however, even if not his ideal type, certainly every bit as
aesthetically pleasing as he had been the last time Tom saw him, and his cowed
behaviour served to render him even more attractive.��
Frowning slightly, Tom wondered what the purpose of his
demonstrative disrobing had been.� If
there was a message, it did not seem to be written on the boy anywhere visible,
and he had ceased removing clothing now.
With an expression of pure dread, Draco lifted and offered
his left arm.�

�You.. you have to touch the
mark.� And order it to reveal itself in
Parseltongue�

It was curiously enticing, the way he appeared to brace himself as if expecting
a blow.
Looking down at the trembling seventh year, Tom felt exactly
the way he imagined children to feel while opening birthday presents.�
Gently he traced two fingers from Draco�s wrist, up the
length of the black, shifting mark, following the line of the snake and noting
the blonde wizard�s slight trembling below him.�
Moving them then to press gently against the snake�s head he hissed softly ::reveal yourself::
The words drew a pained gasp from Draco and then, at first,
a long drawn out whimper, which only built to an agonised wail, as the blonde
clenched his body, ducking his head and straining his muscles in reaction.�

Tom could see the cause of the torment.�

Bright raised burn lines were forming over the length of the other boy�s
back.� They revealed themselves as words
� handwritten words in a tiny, beautifully flowing script. It seemed as if they
had been made with a quill but they were too tiny and perfect � it had to be a
transfer spell of some kind.�� Tom
recognised his own handwriting.� �
By the time the process had finished, Draco was slumped and
snivelling pitifully while Tom gripped his wrist with one hand, holding his arm
in place so that his other two fingers could remain on the head of the
snake.�� Tentatively, when nothing
further appeared, Tom removed first one finger then the other from the snake�s
head.� The message did not fade.�

He slipped off the bed and moved to kneel behind the crouching, weeping
blonde.�

The angle was wrong, so he gripped Draco by his long silky hair and dragged him
gently but firmly to kneel upright, murmuring for him to be still when his soft
gaspy attempts to compose himself and brush his tears away made it difficult to
read the letter penned upon his back.
My own soul, the
message started.
Discovering you in Draco�s
memories was a rare pleasure. It pleases me greatly to learn that you have
escaped your confines.� Although I expect
you to doubt my sincerity - after all, you might imagine that I have had
sufficient time to locate a means of restoring you.� Indeed, I have had such means for several
years now.� Unfortunately, I have found
myself no longer welcome within Hogwarts and, naturally unwilling to reveal
your existence to potentially unreliable functionaries, elected to delay
efforts to reclaim the diary.� You have
become acquainted with Snape and the younger Malfoy � I assume you would not
have wished your fate entrusted to either?!�
While I have had and continue to have other more reliably loyal subjects
within Hogwarts, their capacity for effective action is limited. �I trust
that this assuages your concerns regarding my treatment of you.
Tom did not think that it did, actually.� The diary could have been retrieved by an
innocent first year student without too much trouble.��

No.. he rather suspected that
he had been left in his prison to serve as an object horcrux, whether against
his will or not.� His other self would never have retrieved him.. would never have released him,
if left to his own devices.� Even now �
it was more likely that he was simply seeking to acquire his loyalty in order
to prevent Dumbledore from gaining a potential weapon against him.�

Pursing his lips, Tom read on.
You are understandably
uninformed as to the course that the last decades have taken for me.� I will summarise the pertinent �highlights�
for you.

In fifth year I cemented ties with my Death Eaters � which you would recall as
Knights of Walpurgis. I created the mark � the operation of which you have
evidently already comprehended.� In sixth
year I learned of the location of the last descendants of our maternal and
paternal lines � both are now quite extinct. It is a particularly fond memory �
perhaps when you come to me, I shall share it with you. ��That was also the year that I sought to continue
Slytherin�s work by opening the chamber of secrets.� Unbelievable as it may sound, this culminated
in an award from Dippet for my duty to the school.� Specifically, in constructing a horcrux and
framing a fellow student for murder. It was an eminently satisfying year. �In seventh year, I was given the post of Head
Boy and succeeded in graduating with the highest NEWT results on record � that record
remains unsurpassed, I have been given to understand.� My other successes during that year were, to my
mind, far more meaningful, alas I shall have to wait until you are with me to
discuss them. You will understand my prudence, I think.
Following NEWTs, I
applied unsuccessfully for two positions � the first as a defence teacher at Hogwarts
and the second as an unspeakable.� Both
rejections were, I have confirmed, due to the influence of Dumbledore.� The irrepressible bastard single-handedly
confounded all of my career plans, souring those useful employers against me,
despite my impressive qualifications. �I
worked, for a time, at Borgin and Burkes, one of the
only places I could find employment.� To
think that I should be forced to become a glorified shop boy and procurer of
stock! �Oh it burned at the time � I swore
to destroy Dumbledore.� Unfortunately, as
we see � the goat has proven rather more difficult to dispatch than I might
have expected.� The position was also, I concede,
more useful than advertised. It enabled me to virtually disappear from the
public world; to build a number of extremely useful contacts and to access rare
dark texts and objects.� Subsequently I
travelled to Egypt, Romania, and finally Albania, in search of further
knowledge.� When I returned, almost a
decade later, I began my first campaign to cleanse the wizarding world.� My Death Eaters had served me well in my
absence and I found a veritable army of impassioned wizards and witches waiting
to heed the call.�

Those were great and dark years.� My
influence grew such that I became incontrovertibly the most feared dark wizard
since Grindelwald.�

Draco has related to you, in broad terms, the matter of the prophesy, which was
made to Albus Dumbledore and overheard by Severus Snape.� The fragment revealed that a wizard would be
born who would have the power to vanquish me, and suggested obliquely that the
child would be born to one of two families, the Potters or the Longbottoms. I elected, unwisely as fate revealed, to kill
the Potter child myself and sent several of my most loyal to kill the Longbottom child.� It
was, perhaps in part, my wish to reward Severus that led me to attempt to spare
Potter�s worthless mudblood mother.� The
cursed filth then stepped into the path of the Avada I had intended for the child.
I was infuriated and neglected to anticipate the probable result of her
actions. The old-magic of her sacrifice repelled my spell when I again sought
to kill the child. I was struck and my physical body destroyed.��
I spent the better
part of the subsequent decade a formless shade, angry and mindless, possessing
small creatures, before I finally came upon a susceptible human candidate.� Within the wizard�s mind, I grew stronger and
regained awareness, eventually overwhelming him.� In the attempt to steal from Albus Dumbledore
a magical object that might restore my physical form, I was obliged, rather
ironically, to pose as a defence teacher at Hogwarts, where I again met the
thrice damned boy who was responsible for my predicament.� Harry Potter � the obnoxious, ignorant, outspoken
wretch had become famous.. almost
beloved.. for his undeserved victory!�� Close to gaining what I sought, Potter�s
mother�s taint once again destroyed my borrowed body, rendering me little more
than smoke and shadow.�� It required a
further three years in this state for me to make contact with my living
servants and, through them, to acquire a temporary homunculus body.� After more than a year of suffering in that
wretched form, carted about like a child, all my time spent planning and
influencing events to manipulate Potter into a position whereby I might acquire
him; �it required, in the end, less than
ten minutes to take from him what I needed and create a new body � a body no
longer susceptible to the stain of old sacrifice.�
The body..� Yes. Draco�s
memories showed clearly how disturbed you were by my present appearance.� I was..somewhat
infuriated.. by your reaction, before conceding that
you could not begin to comprehend the circumstances surrounding its
genesis.� As one who has endured
intangibility and physical discomfort for so long, I am rather more circumspect.� This form is limited in some ways, and is
certainly not as attractive as our natural form; however it enables the
articulation of my will and, as a benefit, it terrifies even my servants.� I am quite certain that, once here, you will
adapt to my more serpentine features.
Which
brings me to present circumstances.� No doubt you have already
examined your environment carefully and devised plans by which you might elude
the barriers within them.�� I would warn
you that beyond the rooms in which you are confined, a complex mesh of
blood-keyed wards are in place which will call alarm and render you immobile.
Further out toward the periphery these become more lethal.� You will not pass Hogwarts external wards
alive.�

You have several options, as I see it.�
Firstly, you might wait, and in time I shall come and take Hogwarts by
force, recovering you, should you still live.�
It is probable that you will not, as certain events will occur in the
interim which may lead your gaolers to euthanize you in retaliation.� Secondly � and preferably, I will instruct Draco
to open a passage from the Room of Requirement into your chambers, through
which you might pass, and from whence you might leave Hogwarts, circumventing
the wards.� The room cannot, under normal
circumstances, evade the school wards and therefore escape will only be
possible for a brief period in the course of another task that he is completing
as punishment for his actions toward you.�
I have allowed him three months to complete it.� Finally, if you cannot wait, you might decide
to make your own way from the grounds.� I
can see few options for success.� It is
possible to floo from the headmasters chambers,
however that room is heavily warded and monitored, obviously.� It is perhaps possible to extort your release
by means of threatening the lives of the students.� I rather suspect that Albus would kill you
before he allowed you to escape if you chose to do that.� Should you have an alternate route in mind
and require assistance, I will provide it if it is possible to do so without
endangering my interests too significantly.
Finally, to Draco �
watch the boy�s memories. I orchestrated his punishment with your pleasure in
mind.� I think you will enjoy the
performance.� I have obliged Severus to
leave Draco with you, that you might take what the impertinent little worm
denied you upon your last encounter.� He
will be quite accommodating now.� It is
almost certainly unnecessary to remind you to obliviate
him of the events involving this message unless you wish to face unrelenting
interrogation as Albus and Severus attempt to divine its contents.
Respond, for the
moment, using the boy�s body.� �Coellopello�.� Wand: up diagonal right 6in. 1 cw, Down 1in, up diagonal left
3in, right 3in, flick down diagonal left. Tap parchment, Press wand to intended
site of transfer and hold till complete.�
To hide -use the mark and the parsel incantation �absorb�.�

I will look into a more convenient mode of communication for the future.�
L.V.

Tom sat back on his heels and blinked.� His other half had sounded far more rational
and reasonable than he had expected, from the short impression gained while
watching Draco�s memories.�� It did not,
by any stretch, mean that he would be safe
with him.� Lord Voldemort had expressed
dissatisfaction with his present body and Tom represented a likely opportunity
to improve his situation.�

As thought provoking as the letter was, it did not persuade him to immediately
invest every effort into escaping.� It
led him to understand how Harry might be despised by the other part of his soul..but it did not leave him determined to destroy said green
eyed boy either.�

Yes.. Harry was obnoxious and outspoken.. but he was also intriguing..exciting.. dangerous.� It had not felt half as good to touch Draco.� When he was close to Harry, he literally lost
his senses.� His mind unwound in the
pleasure of it.�

Of course.. if Harry was no
longer allowed within the chambers, then it really made no difference how
desirable he might be � Tom had lost his opportunity to remove him from the
world.
Sighing softly he turned his mind away from that
matter.� It remained to be seen whether Harry
would return or not, and if he did � well.. it was better to cross that bridge when he came to it.� For the moment he needed to decide what he
intended to reply to Lord Voldemort.�

Rising to his feet gracefully, Tom paced off to retrieve ink and parchment from
Hermione�s room, taking a moment to pen a brief response upon her desk.�
L.V
I thank you for your communique.� I have
not yet viewed Draco�s memories, however I anticipate that I will enjoy what
you have chosen to show me and appreciate the time you have procured for me
with the boy.�

I have made much progress toward defeating the internal restrictions within
these chambers and will think on the information you have given me.� More precise charting of the wards would be
of benefit, although as I do not at present see a way to leave the grounds
other than those you have listed, the capacity to leave the confines of the
room may only be of use in communicating with you.� I believe my best opportunity to leave will
indeed be when Draco completes his task, whatever it might be.� I imagine you have a reason for declining to
be specific regarding it�s nature
and will, at least for the moment, content myself with that.
I have met Harry
Potter several times now.� We duelled two
evenings ago.. or rather � he
attempted (rather pitifully) to attack me.�
He is almost entirely untutored.�
I could have killed him effortlessly.�

He is rather appealing however... I had intended to kill him but became
somewhat distracted upon discovering that contact with his skin evokes a peculiarly
pleasurable tingling effect.� It is quite
intoxicating.� He seems similarly
unwillingly drawn to me.� I would think
it a spell, were he not so ignorant magically.�
I suppose it may feasibly be something placed upon him by
Dumbledore.� If so, then it would appear that
our most loathed professor wishes Harry and I to develop an intimate attachment
to one another...�

I offered to �teach� Harry defensive spells, principally as a means of ensuring
his frequent return.� Today, prior to the
arrival of Severus and Draco, Harry learned five second year bubble shields and
was very proud of his achievement.� I
cannot fathom how such a helpless creature might vanquish either of us, now
that the effect of his mother�s sacrifice is no longer relevant.�

Are you absolutely, conclusively certain that the prophesy is both valid and
referencing no other?� Is it possible
that it has already come to pass through the destruction of your body?� What of the remainder of the
prophesy?�
Can you confirm
Dumbledore�s assertion that the mudblood, Hermione Granger, with whom I am
sharing the Head�s quarters, is the most gifted student to attend Hogwarts
since our time (or rather � your time, since I did not have the opportunity to sit
the OWLs or NEWTs.)?

I presume it was not your suggestion that Draco reside permanently with me
here?� Severus seems to want to remove
the mudblood (I believe he has some particular regard for her in fact) and
install Draco in her place.
T.R.

�
Draco was still kneeling, his arms wrapped around himself
unhappily, when Tom returned with the letter, warding the door behind him with
a speed borne of practice.��
�Almost finished, Draco� he informed him distractedly..looking down the expanse of the older boy�s back that
seemed perversely enhanced by the addition of the tiny, delicate, waves of
script over the curves of his lean muscles.��
Absently Tom walked to the balcony and retrieved Draco�s wand from its
hiding place within the lintel, pacing back to stand behind him and rehearse
the spell the letter had described.�

It was quite straightforward.� A practice
run was not possible in light of the fact that the spell was intended to
transcribe only to skin, however he was confident that it would not prove
troublesome.
�Stand� he instructed, considering where to place the
message.� It was not so very long but he
wished it to be as attractively displayed as the missive from L.V.
Draco bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment,
seeming to clutch himself more tightly, before he dropped his arms and pulled
himself to his feet.�

He did not turn � did not so much as move.�

Tom smiled, standing behind him and only eye level with his shoulders.� Stepping closer, he reached around the much
larger boy�s body, to the fly of his school uniform trousers.�

Draco barely flinched when he was unbuttoned.��
After sliding his zip down carefully and grazing his fingertips over the
heavy, albeit as yet flaccid, organ
beneath, Tom slid his hands to Draco�s waist and dragged both trousers and
boxers together down his thighs to pool softly around his ankles.
Beautiful..
Biting his lip, Tom pulled his eyes back up from where they
had wandered down the length of the blonde�s body.�

�Lie on the bed� he said, the command only the tiniest bit husky.�� His trousers felt somewhat more constrictive
than they had done a few minutes prior.

After a moment of hesitation, Draco moved forward and climbed onto the bed,
lowering himself down to lie on his stomach.

�No.� Lie on your back.� Tom
corrected.� �This will look most
effective over your abdomen.�
The blond began to cower again.� Tom watched as he steeled himself and then
pushed up onto his hands and knees, turning himself to sit and then, gingerly,
lowered himself down onto his back with a wince.�� Apparently the marks were still sore.�

Draco�s face was fixed in a resolute mask as he tried to contain his fear and
pain.� It was nevertheless quite evident
in the tension of his limbs, the tightness of his jaw.

Enchanted by the mute submission, Tom climbed onto the bed and crawled closer,
till he sat, clothed, over the other boy�s naked thighs.� They were warm and firm beneath him and he
looked forward to getting this part over with and obliviating
Draco so that he could move on to enjoying the rest of his time with him.� His eyes drifted over the lovely form
displayed, wandering down, with a small thrill, to the heavy organ lying
against Draco�s pale thigh.
�P-please..� the blonde stuttered
softly, hopeless despair in his voice.� �please..��

He didn�t clarify his plea, although Tom assumed that he wanted to say � please don�t do this.�� Tilting his head, he looked down at him with
furrowed brows.�

�There is no other way, Draco.� This is
as much for your protection as it is mine.�
Perhaps.. if you had
not forced your suit with me, a less painful spell might have been located. �Prepare yourself now.�
He was jolted slightly as the older boy took his words to
heart and tensed his abdominal muscles in preparation for excruciating
agony.�
Tom took a moment to admire the effect, tracing fingertips
over the warm muscles, before he reached again for the parchment and quickly
cast the spell.
Draco screamed like a thing possessed, his head thrown back
and eyes clenched while his hands fisted and struggled.� Clearly he wanted to grip his abdomen, where
tiny words were being written, raising themselves in angry red burnt
flesh.� Tom doubted that it would spoil
the effect but it was probably better not to take the chance.� He leaned forward and put his weight on Draco�s
forearms, pressing them down against the bed as the muscles within them
vibrated like plucked strings.�
The spell completed itself, leaving its human canvas again a
sobbing wreck.� There was something in
the youngest Malfoy�s gaspy weeping that sounded so
self pitying.� It succeeded in driving
away any concern Tom might have felt for him.��

The letter did look quite pretty
stretched over Draco�s taut abdomen though.�
Curiously, Tom leaned down and licked over the burnt lines.� Draco wailed and jolted in reaction.�

The taste was merely the salt of skin, although the surface did feel very
hot.��
Leaning back, Tom admired his handiwork for the last time,
before sighing and reaching for Draco�s left arm.�

it was eagerly.. almost impatiently offered.� The pain probably diminished when the words
were hidden beneath the skin, he surmised.�
::absorb::
�he hissed softly, watching as the
angry red markings sank gently, leaving Draco�s skin once again pale and
unblemished.�

The boy beneath him, after a few seconds seemed to try to compose himself
again, sniffing and wiping at his eyes with the arm not being held by Tom.
Reluctantly, Tom climbed off him and instructed him to stand
again, confirming that the marks upon Draco�s back had also vanished once
more.� The reverse divesto
had him dressed in seconds and then he was directed to kneel in the place he
had been kneeling after Snape had first left.�

Draco did not plead as he had before the transfer spell.� He merely gazed back at Tom with hollow
haunted eyes.� There was an aura of
hopeless resignation about him.

Tom�s murmured obliviate knocked the light out of his
eyes a moment later, leaving him staring emptily ahead.�
�Crawl to me�
The words jolted the blonde back into awareness.�� It was fascinating to watch Draco become, in
the space of half a second, as terrified as he had been before the pain of the
messages.� He blinked, as his mind
reconnected with its earlier state and then he crawled quickly to Tom�s feet,
resting back on his heels and looking up at him anxiously.
�Undress, Draco� Tom commanded softly.�� The blonde complied at once and after
shedding his uniform swiftly, with downcast face, resumed his devotional pose,
waiting for instruction.��

�My trousers.� Tom prompted.�

This command seemed to offer the blonde some kind of inexplicable relief, as if
he had been expecting to suffer punishment now.�
He reached at once, to unbutton Tom�s trousers, drawing them off him
gently and waiting again.�

The way that Draco wet his lips as he looked up at him was perhaps not solely
for the purpose of moistening them.� Tom
couldn�t help reacting to the transparent seductive gesture even so.�� He felt the tight tension in his groin
increase and knew, without glancing down, that his cock was moving swiftly
toward rock hard.�
�Do you want-� Draco started
softly, eagerly.
�No.� Tom interrupted hastily.� �No.. I want to view
your memory first.� Show me your
punishment.� I want to see
everything.� If you leave anything out, he�ll know, even if you manage to hide
it from me � and I imagine you will not enjoy his reproof.�
Draco cringed back as if kicked.�

�yes� he moaned unhappily.� �yes.� My mind is yours.� I won�t occlude again.�
Tom smiled, pleased, and reached out to stroke the silky
blonde hair gently, fascinated by the older boy�s slight flinch.

�Good.� Show me then.�
Draco tilted his head back and turned his despairing silvery
eyes up till they met Tom�s own blue ones steadily.
�Legilimens�
Tom incanted softly.
....the sensation of penetration was quite different this
time.� Whereas, while Draco had been occluding,
Tom had experienced a lot of sensory fuzz and distraction, his now unvarnished
mind felt crisp and sharp.�
Almost at once there was the hurtling sensation of a world
thundering down around him and he found himself immersed in the memory.
It was a vast dim room.�
It felt almost cavelike, if not for the ornate
interlocking pattern of an antique polished wooden floor.�� The chamber was of truly massive proportions
and the light emanating from the torches on the walls did not illuminate the
ceiling far above or the distant end of the room.� They threw into relief only the events at the
near end of the hall.�
Nine figures were standing in a half circle, cloaked and
hooded in black, faces obscured behind identical, cruelly formed, silver
masks.�� It was an ominous sight.
In the centre of the half circle, Draco was, in the memory-
as in real life, upon his knees.� He was
wearing his school uniform and looked like he might be ill at any moment from
fear.��
Before him stood the gestalt that Tom had only viewed once
before in Draco�s memories:� Lord Voldemort.� He was an unnaturally tall figure, dressed in
rather more lavish black robes than the nine others in the hall, with snow
white skin, bright crimson eyes and inhumanly serpentine facial features.� The strange flatness of his face repulsed Tom
anew � he had nothing more than two narrow slits over a slight bump where his
nose should have been.� Bald.. no, entirely hairless, his thin lips were smiling in a manner that
promised nothing good.
�The new Polyjuice, Severus� Lord Voldemort
commanded in a strange high breathy voice.�
�It is an unfortunate waste of potion, however I have no patience for
healing this wretched little worm and he deserves no restraint tonight.�
One of the cloaked and masked figures stepped out of the circle
and retrieved a small corked bottle from its pocket, stalking toward the boy
upon his knees.� With an impatient
movement he tore a hair from the youth�s head and, opening the flask with his
thumb, fed the long blonde hair into it with practiced ease. ��Draco looked up at him with wild eyes.�

Tom recognised again that pleading expression he had used on Snape when the man
had announced that he would be leaving Draco with Tom.�

Here too, it had no effect.� The masked
Death Eater simply proffered the bottle impatiently.

After a long moment, Draco accepted it delicately and, with a grimace of
disgust, brought it to his mouth, tossing it back.
Although he fell down upon his knees groaning and rubbing
his hands over his face, when he pulled himself back upright, there was no
change at all in his appearance.
Lord Voldemort smirked down at Draco and drew closer, till
he loomed over him, making him seem somehow very small.�

The juxtaposition only highlighted for Tom exactly how much larger than his own
fourteen year old body his other self would be.�� And whereas Draco was merely physically
stronger than he himself, Lord Voldemort � the other expression of Tom�s own
potential � would have a broader lexicon of spells at his disposal and would be
at least as magically potent, if not more powerful than Tom too
�Do not imagine that this is to be your only punishment, Draco.� No.. I believe I find myself prepared to dedicate
considerable time to educating you on the magnitude of my displeasure with
you.� And after you have been punished.. you will be trained.�

The dark leer on the alien face was disturbing to say the least.� Tom swallowed, trying to adjust his
perception to view the monstrous creature as the reasonable like-minded wizard
who had penned the letter to him.��

It was quite difficult.
The cursing began as soon as Lord Voldemort hissed �Begin�
and stepped away from the kneeling student, striding a short distance before
turning to watch the youth buffeted and tossed like a rag doll by spells from
every side.�

It was obvious that Draco was trying to endure the attacks silently, but it did
not take long at all until the blows and cuts wrung yelps and then pained cries
and screams from him.��

He shrieked and arched to an impossible angle as the cruciatus was thrown at
him; screams becoming wild and mindless as he twisted and clawed at
himself.�
Tom was barely aware of himself moving closer, fascinated by
the expression on the writhing boy�s face.��
The spell was released, leaving Draco sobbing and gasping in
pain.� He was given only seconds however
before the attack resumed viciously, a purple jet of light searing a thick burn
through his uniform shirt and across his chest, another yellow line slicing his
cheek and forearm open.�

He received no respite.� Organ twisting
and wrenching curses, freezing hexes, asphyxiation curses, it seemed that the
figures cast even more frenziedly as the time dripped away.�

Tom watched in wonder.� Although he knew
many if not most of the spells used, he had not had the opportunity to see most
of them used on another person.� The discipline
he had exercised over his little group of �knights� had been fairly
psychological in nature up until his interment within the diary.� He had used their weaknesses.. their fears and ambitions, to
manipulate them into supplying what he needed or behaving as he preferred.� It had been simple enough.� Perhaps once or twice, when he had been severely displeased, he had employed
minor, fairly harmless, hexes to frighten;� Hexes that were more damaging to the
ego than the body but got the message across.�
Those incidents had been increasing in frequency..but
this.. this
was an entirely different order of magnitude.�

What was happening to Draco constituted serious
damage!� The mess that was left of him in
the meantime would be more likely transported to St Mungo�s
than the infirmary.�
�Enough.�
Every Death Eater froze mid attack at the sound of Lord Voldemort�s
quiet command.� They retreated back to
their orderly attentive posture, although Tom had the impression that two in
particular had been chomping at the bit to release the curses they had had
ready.
Draco was a bloodied pile of wretchedness on the floor,
prone and limp in a puddle of his own assorted fluids.� ��
Silence reigned for almost two minutes and then the broken
figure twitched and gurgled a pitiful whimper.� Draco wailed then, shaking and clenching as
the polyjuice began to wear off.� Tom watched, astounded, as, in the most
miraculous manner, the injuries receded and vanished until Draco Malfoy lay,
exhausted but unharmed, filthy and sobbing in his own blood and piss.
�Again, Severus.�� Voldemort prompted with cruel
satisfaction.��
Draco seemed to find his senses at that, pushing himself up
onto his knees and crawling desperately toward the serpentine figure.

�No.. Please.. Please my Lord.� Not again!�
Please.. I�m sorry!� I didn�t mean to!� I won�t ever.. ever.. do it again.. please.. I promise!�
It seemed the Dark Lord was amused by the outburst from the
revoltingly soiled boy.� He tilted his
head, looking at Draco with satisfaction.�

�A blood replenishing potion too, if you would, Severus.�� He barely gestured with a finger and
scourgified the waste from the youth�s hair and body.�� A further twitch of his fingertips melted Draco�s
nearly shredded uniform like smoke.�

Draco, wimmering disconsolately, yelped at his sudden
nakedness and curled down over his knees protectively.� Tom caught his soft desperate whimper and
found himself frustrated by the desire to hear Draco make that sound while
splayed beneath him.� He so badly wanted
to press his cowering form down into the mattress and drive his cock deep into
him.
It seemed that Lord Voldemort was not similarly affected, as
he did not halt Snape�s preparation of the polyjuice.�

Draco, for his part, tried hard to pull himself together, blinking away tears
and snivelling as he took both of the potions offered.� Blood replenishing potion
and then polyjuice.��
The next round was even more brutal.� It almost seemed as if the Death Eaters were
competing with one another, each curse trumped the one preceding it.� Draco�s fingers on his left hand were severed
by one curse, his ankle broken by the next.�
A sickly green and orange spell had him coughing blood and the next blue
flash had him pissing boiling tar.�� At
one point Draco began to rip at his own eyes with his fingernails, trying to
tear them out, before another curse, that Tom thought might have been cast by Snape,
threw him back in a fit, causing him to foam at the mouth.�

It was engaging to watch, Tom decided.�
He had learned a truly vast number of curses and spells during the time
in which he was trapped in the diary, and he suddenly realised that he would be
quite eager to try them all out, one after another, at the earliest possible
convenience.
The time seemed to pass quickly and when the word was given
to stop, Draco was unrecognisable, seeming more a pile of body parts than a
wounded seventeen year old boy.�� He lay
limp and unresponsive.� He had not so
much as flinched in over a minute of hexes.�

The polyjuice wearing off resulted in the same
astounding transformation as in the first round, the difference being, that
during the course of this one, Draco did not whimper or move.� He remained deathly still and silent as he
became once again a beautiful bloodsoaked youth.� His eyes were closed and face slack.
Voldemort narrowed his crimson eyes, striding closer.�

�Enervate� he hissed impatiently.� When
the prone form did not react he drew his wand and pointed it at Draco.� Whatever he cast, was incanted silently and
could not be identified by the understated flick of his wand, but Draco at once
gave an almighty gasp and shuddered all over.�
His eyelids flickered a second later and then he opened his eyes.� The silvery grey stood out starkly against
the crimson in which the rest of his face seemed to have been dipped.�
�Severus. �Attend to
his condition.�

It was snapped angrily.� The death eater
that was Snape almost flew to Draco�s side, casting diagnostic spells and
hurriedly drawing several small phials out of its pockets.�� Draco swallowed them all docilely without so much as a sound before his grey eyes drifted away from Snape
and back to Lord Voldemort.

There was something like empty acceptance in them.� It was quite odd, Tom thought.�� Odd but strangely lovely.�
�Do you not wish to beg for mercy again, Draco� Lord Voldemort
asked softly, in his high breathy voice. �your pleas
are quite fetching...��

Tom waited avidly.
�No, my Lord.� Draco whispered.
�There�s nothing I can do.� If you want
me to suffer.. there�s.. there�s nothing I can do...�
his voice cracked slightly as he trailed off.
�Yes..� Lord Voldemort confirmed
with quiet approval.� �You will endure
pain if it pleases me to give it to you.�
You have been sufficiently punished when I deem it to be so.�

The crimson eyes glanced up at the array of death eaters waiting at ease.

�Take your pleasure with him.� Sate
yourselves upon his body...�� The
snakelike gestalt smiled cruelly.� �Every male will participate.� Severus.. more polyjuice.��
Tom watched as Draco seemed to pale as if suddenly drained
of all blood.� He turned his face toward
the wooden floor, nearly hyperventilating, and clenched his eyes tightly as if
it would shut out reality.�

The reaction among the black cloaked figures was also one of shock, as most
glanced overtly or surreptitiously at one Death Eater in particular.�
For the first time Tom noticed the silky white hair that was
visible within the cloak, beneath the silver mask.�

It was only natural that the elder Malfoy would be here.

He drew closer, trying to make out the features of Draco�s father.. Abraxas� son.� Lucius.� The mask hid all
but his slate grey eyes.�
When he turned, Snape was crouching, offering another phial
to Draco.� The youth was shaking his head
desperately, his arms wrapped around himself.
When Lord Voldemort stalked angrily toward him, Draco
retreated in wild terror, throwing himself onto his back, elbows and heels
scraping the ground in ineffectual panic, as he tried to drag himself away.

�You dare to defy your Lord?� the
inhuman gestalt hissed incensed.� �Your
punishment has been merciful, boy!..� Out of respect
for the loyal service of your father and his father before him � I am sparing
your life and graciously permitting
you to accept punishment.� I am seldom so
charitable.� Do not persuade me to
reconsider sparing you!� In my present
disposition, it would be most satisfying to bring your worthless little life to
an excruciatingly painful end tonight.�
Draco, naked, splayed and shaking, wore the wide eyed,
uncomprehending expression of one who is sailing toward madness.� His head turned to locate the cloaked form of
his father, but the complete absence of any reaction from that quarter led him
to turn away, his gaze darting here and there in hysterical panic, avoiding the
faces of all those surrounding him.��
Blindly he accepted the phial proferred by the
crouching Snape, and took the potion with a grimace, shivering through its
effects.�
�A wise decision.� Now.� On your knees, boy�� Lord Voldemort hissed coldly��
His face somehow frighteningly blank and wide eyed, the
seventeen year old struggled to comply.�
Tom could see his entire body vibrating in dread.
An unknown figure from the ranks stepped forward, his initiative
only slightly quicker than two others.�
He moved swiftly to place himself behind Draco, fumbling hurriedly at
his robes to free his cock.�

Tom�s eyes widened at the size of his organ.�
It was a weapon.� Draco, facing
forward with empty eyes, did not see what was coming, fortunately or
unfortunately.��

The Death Eater, stroking himself slowly with one hand, reached for Draco with
the other, running his thumb over the tiny dry pucker of the boy�s hole.�
�My Lord?� he gravelled, seeking instruction.
The tall alien form deliberated, his crimson eyes narrowing.

No.� No preparation.� Tear him open.� I wish to see blood stream down his thighs
Draco closed his eyes, shaking harder.
The man kneeling behind him nodded once and then dropped his
head, moving his mask only long enough to spit on Draco�s arse and then once
more into his hand.� He rubbed his length
brusquely even as the thumb of his other hand spread the spit over Draco�s
small pink rosette, forcing itself inside once, twice, before retreating.�

His hand on the young boy�s hip, holding him in place,
the Death Eater positioned himself and, without ceremony, viciously drove into
the unprepared youth.�

Draco made a sound somewhere between a choked scream and a sob, and fell to
panicked, messy weeping interspersed with pained cries as the massive baton in
his arse was forced in a series of brutal thrusts deeper and deeper, until the
man was fully seated.��

The first withdrawl and deep, slamming, thrust pulled
a full throated scream from the young wizard and then the death eater took to a
cruel rhythm, both hands on Draco�s hips, holding him in place to pound into
him without care.
Tom was not at all sure that he did like the �show� that his other self had put on for him.� He found himself frustrated that others were
taking Draco when he himself had not had the opportunity to do so.�

He watched as the man roughly fucking Draco quickly reached his completion,
thrusting deep to spill himself within him.��
Draco, a grimace on his tearstreaked, pained
face, remained still as a statue.�

Kneeling close beside him, Tom observed as Draco blinked miserably and another
slow tear slid down his cheek.�

It was breathtaking.�

The light caught it just right and transformed the suffering boy into an adonis.. a
burning effigy of himself. �Tom glanced
up at the pale Dark Lord, feeling a strange gratitude to him.� He realised that Lord Voldemort was as
transfixed by Draco�s agony as he himself.�
The creature�s face was hard and merciless..but
something in the way his red eyes lingered, glinting, told Tom that he was
affected
Almost sedately, the death eater kneeling behind Draco
withdrew and was replaced at once by another, one of the other two who had been
most eager initially.��

While the man moved to kneel, Tom shifted on his knees, shuffling toward Draco�s
rear to take in the damage.��

It was much worse than he had expected.�

Both of Draco�s thighs were indeed streaked with long trails of blood that was
dribbling down to pool beneath his knees.�
But his anus..
he looked as if he had been fucked with a blade rather
than a cock.� It was a mess.�� Deep red pooled and drizzled from it, with
little bubbles and strings of white intermingled, and the way it twitched ineffectually,
it seemed as if it no longer closed properly.

The new Death Eater wasted no time in freeing his cock and burying himself to
the hilt in the bloody maw.�
Tom wasn�t sure what to think.� It felt as if an internal argument had
ignited within him.� There was a part.. a large part of him that was fascinated..entertained..
utterly absorbed by the brutality��

The raw violence and abuse.. it was..amazing.� He�d never
seen anything like it.�

The closest thing he knew to this exultant hungry dark feeling were the little
things he�d done to some of the other children in the orphanage, such as
killing Billy�s rabbit and hanging it on the beam in the hall for him to find
...or the day that Dennis and Amy had followed him into the cave by the seaside
and he�d found he could make them
obey his commands.�

That day he�d been thrilled by it when he�d understood that they couldn�t help
doing what he wanted.� Though at first it
had started with simple disgusting things � making Dennis eat a dead jellyfish,
making Amy swallow sand by the handful - he�d warmed to the feeling of power
and grown more creative.� He�d made them
hold their heads underwater in the shallow pool near the back of the cave until
they were close to drowning.� He�d done
it again and again, enjoying their panic.�
Then he�d had Amy bend her own finger back until it broke.�

The way her finger had looked, so wrong,
pointing upward at an impossible angle.. had made him feel something that was faintly like what he
was feeling now, watching this.� A hot, sickening excitement.�
A hunger.
There was another
part of him..(a part that he
thought might just be the indoctrination of society.. and specifically � of Dumbledore and others like him.) that protested that what was happening was wrong...� That he did not want this.� But it was an uncertain little voice,
compared to the growing hungry curiosity.

It made him feel hot and shivery and strange to watch the panting, cloaked and
masked man pumping and slapping wetly into Draco�s ravaged arse, while the
blonde�s arms shook so much that he struggled to stay upright.�� Draco�s skin was covered in a sheen of perspiration and he had bitten his lip so hard
that it was bleeding.

Tom knew that he would never have even considered doing something like this to
the boy.� He had only wanted to touch him.. have him..� He wouldn�t have tortured him.�

Consequently, if it hadn�t been for Lord Voldemort - he would never have seen Draco
so fragile, damaged and lovely as he looked now.�
After a while, with the Death eater grunting and slamming
into the kneeling boy, his hands gripping and clenching at him in animalistic
fervour, as if greedy to take more of
him somehow, another sidled forward.��

He moved to Draco�s head, fingers stroking the damp white silky hair, before he
lowered himself gracefully to his knees before him, and took out his dripping
member.��

Draco, whining softly in misery, was nevertheless as pliable as a doll as the
man wound long slender fingers in his hair and urged him down to suck.� The boy fell to his task with neither
enthusiasm nor overt resistance until the death eater gripped him more tightly
by the hair and dragged him up and down his length, forcing him deeper,
unheeding of his choking.� Then he struggled ineffectually for air.
At some point while Tom watched the rape of Draco�s mouth,
the wizard fucking his arse finished and retreated, to be replaced by
another.�� It proceeded much the same as
before, at least until Draco suddenly wailed around the thick cock in his
mouth.�

- The wizard riding him had reached beneath them both for the boy�s own flaccid
cock, stroking and massaging it to a weak arousal.� Draco was reacting with renewed resistance to
the forced pleasure and tried to reach back to pull the hand gripping him
away.� His wrist was caught and pulled
onto his back to be held by the man�s other hand, before he returned to
stroking Draco as he fucked him.

The sight seemed to viscerally affect the one taking Draco�s mouth and the
youth struggled even more violently, suffocating and coughing as his airways
were unexpectedly filled with thick viscous semen.�
He was manhandled back into servicing position by a
different wizard at his head and given a brisk slap to bring him to focus,
before his mouth was roughly plugged with a new cock.��
The wizard behind him, finding Draco�s cock remained only
half hard, no matter how he plied it, gave up on his efforts and turned his
attention back to fucking the boy for all he was worth.
While Tom watched, Draco�s arse was taken by two more
wizards and his mouth by three, the last of them the Death Eater with the
massive tool, who had first broken Draco in.�
His cock was still streaked with drying blood and darker matter.�� Draco did
try to refuse him, but, after a few slaps and a couple of heavier blows with
the man�s closed fist, the broken youth relented, submitting and almost
vomiting as he was choked by the foul organ.
The elder Malfoy had been lingering back, standing
inscrutable and still while Draco was brutalised.� Now though, with time running short and all
others having taken their turn, he stepped forward with seeming reluctance as
the wizard in Draco�s arse finished and fell back.�
What was revealed was obscene.� Draco�s arse resembled a gaping bloody
tunnel, drooling pink gobs of cum down over his balls and onto the ground
beneath him.�
Tom, kneeling beside Draco, watched as the boy�s father
scourgified away the rests covering and surrounding him and then, drawing
nearer, lowered himself gracefully to his knees and placed the tip of his
black, snake handled wand at his son�s ruined passage, scourgifying him within
also.��

With a practiced wand movement the death eater dissolved the silver mask upon
his face, revealing to Tom the face that he had been so curious to view.�

Lucius Malfoy, his good friend Abraxas Malfoy�s son, was a silkily attractive wizard in his prime,
his features refined, every expression and gesture elegant, yet the bright
unnatural fervour in the slate grey eyes as he looked down upon his son
rendered the aristocrat�s features base, debauched and twisted.
That Draco realised who exactly was behind him now was
discernable in his tightly clenched eyes and the sudden droop
of his shoulders.�
Lucius murmured a soft lubrication
spell before reaching beneath his robes and freeing himself.�

Tom�s upper lip curled slightly when the parted robe revealed that the man was
hard and more than ready to sodomise his son.�
Disturbingly, the older wizard seemed to take his time,
running his fingers lightly over Draco�s shaking
thighs and up the line of his back.�� Draco
shivered and whimpered around the cock in his
mouth.�

His father rose up then on his knees and, positioning himself, thrust in.�

The soft exalted groan of pleasure he expressed was unmistakeable.� He moved slowly, rotating his hips and
pressing deeply, his breath heavy with excitement.��
After the wizard fucking Draco�s mouth had finished, and no
other moved to take his place, the boy dropped, sobbing, his head buried in his
arms as if he wanted to hide, while his father leaned even closer, moving in
him faster now.��

Gripping his son in what resembled a lover�s caresses more than a rapists�
restraints, Lucius� moaned and bent over his
back.�� Gently but implacably he reached
for Draco�s shoulders, dragging him back up onto his hands� and curling his own body around the smaller
one below, one arm around the seventeen year old�s
collarbone, holding him in place, as his black cloaked arse circumscribed small
rotations and short delving thrusts.�

Draco wimmered in horror.� His lips forming the word
�no� over and over again soundlessly.�
�Draco..� Lucius
breathed against his son�s neck, making him flinch away.� Lucius ignored it
and bowed his head, kissing Draco�s nape and then languidly licking the sweat
from his shoulder.

Draco whimpered pitifully and ducked his head, trying, and failing, to evade
his father�s perversely seductive attentions.�

Lucius� hand, that had been
lingering on the youth�s hip, now wandered lower, stealing over Draco�s abdomen
toward his cock, which was limp, Tom noted.�

Realising the goal of the hand, Draco started to yelp in blind panic,
struggling frantically to escape.� His
father�s hold on him was iron however and soon Lucius
had the object of his foray gripped in his well manicured fingers and was
stroking in slow deliberate movements.
�Stop� Draco wailed hysterically.�� Please.. father!!� My Lord.. oh please.. someone!!� Someone.. stop it.. I can�t..�
�Hush� Lucius panted behind him.�
�Don�t fight the pleasure..�� You are so beautiful..
My Draco..�
Draco did not seem to be listening, in his panic, but the effect
of his fathers� skilful ministrations was inescapable even so.� Tom watched as Lucius,
eyes closed in euphoria, increased his efforts, fucking Draco harder while his
hand stroked him faster.� Draco�s cock
was soon weeping and his hips winding helplessly as he sobbed.

�Please!!..�
he whimpered again desperately in a choked breathless voice.� �Yesss� Lucius groaned against his back. �Come, Draco.� Come for me.�

And, as if on command, he did, crying out in miserable, unwilling pleasure as
he covered his father�s hand in hot slithery jets of white liquid.��

Lucius reacted with a groan of raw lust, bowing his
face against Draco�s back and thrusting into him erratically before gasping out
his own release, clamping Draco to him possessively in the afterspasms.��
It seemed to take a long time before Lucius
finally uncurled his arms from his son�s abused body and drew back
reluctantly.�

Draco, as soon as he was released, folded himself down into a huddled ball,
weeping and shaking.
�Draco..� his father murmured
guiltily, still lingering behind him.

Tom narrowed his eyes at the man in disgust.
�That will be enough, Lucius� Lord
Voldemort interrupted coldly.� �Leave him
now.��
Lucius hesitated, his eyes tracing
over Draco�s spine longingly.�

�Of course, my Lord� he murmured quietly, replacing his cock in his robes and
gliding smoothly to his feet, returning once more to the half circle of death
eaters.�
The Dark Lord�s crimson gaze hovered over the ruined weeping
boy as if he were an exquisite work of art to be admired.�

�Your assistance is no longer required, my servants.� He hissed softly without
gracing them with any more than the bare minimum of his attention.� �-You may leave us.�
There was barely a moment�s pause before the cracks of disapparition rang out in the dark hall.�

Snape seemed to be one of the last to leave.�
He lingered uncertainly for only a few seconds before disapparating with the others.��
Lucius remained standing.
�My Lord..� he began in an
entreating tone. �Might Draco not-�
�No.� He may not.� Voldemort
cut him off sharply.� �Leave, Lucius � or I shall obliviate you
of the memory.�
The blonde wizard hesitated only a moment before departing
with a soft crack.
The cavernous hall seemed suddenly even larger in the
silence.�
�Get up.� The pale serpentine wizard commanded, not entirely
unkindly. �I am satisfied for the moment.�
You have been punished sufficiently.�
Stand.� I wish to apparate us elsewhere.�
Draco, still snivelling softly moved to drag himself
up.�� His arms were weak with tremors and
he crumpled again on his first try, emitting a gaspy whimper.� The sudden rippling of the polyjuice wearing off stopped him from trying again.� When the effect had ceased, Draco, once again
whole and exhausted almost to the point of collapse, successfully pushed
himself shakily to his knees and then, with slow, painful effort, to his
feet.�

It seemed that his nakedness was no longer of any significant consequence to
him.� His bowed head and dull eyes fixed
on the ground gave him the appearance of a broken puppet..
a beaten animal.

He stumbled in the direction of Lord Voldemort and was caught in mid fall by
the imposing wizard and drawn effortlessly against him.� One arm wrapped around Draco�s lower back and
then the memory shifted strangely to a new location.�

It wasn�t like the sensation of apparition.. more like being twisted and thrown forcefully into a new surrounding.

The richly appointed, if somewhat dark and austere
bedchamber appealed to Tom at once.� It
was undoubtedly Lord Voldemort�s.�� The
large bed within it faintly resembled that within the head boy�s room.� Its carvings were somewhat more ominous
though � there was the vague impression of a multitude of tiny carved figures,
both human and beast, entwined in pleasure or torment, but it was too dark to
make out the detail.�

A black marble fireplace burned with a high dark-red flame and before it was
placed only one dark green armchair.�
This room was not intended to entertain guests, Tom supposed.� It was functional.� A retreat.�

There was a desk, only a few bookshelves, no windows.� The wall hangings � magical tapestries �
depicted, variously, battle scenes, intertwining mythical creatures and
maps.�
Lord Voldemort, having appeared in the room quite close to
the bed, dragged the weak boy in his embrace the two steps to its edge and
tossed him down upon it to land on his back, legs partly hanging off the
side.�

The movement was not particularly gentle, however neither did it appear to hurt
Draco.�

No.. his pained, terrified expression
was due to the realisation of where he presently found himself.��

He started to struggle to sit up, but the pale, long fingered hand that quickly
pressed down upon his bare chest halted the panicked movement.�

Lord Voldemort leaned down over him, his red eyes flicking over Draco�s body
suggestively.
�Do not struggle, Draco.�
As I informed you before your punishment began � It would be made clear
to you how considerably your behaviour displeased me..
and then you would be trained in how you are to comport yourself ..when
you come to my bed.�
This information, Tom could see, had confirmed Draco�s
fears.� Curiously, instead of struggling
further, he seemed to become absolutely limp all of a sudden while his face
crumpled into desperate horror.��

He looked utterly broken.
The snakelike face smiled darkly. �Much
better, boy.� I would have you
obedient, first and foremost.� As you
would serve me, that is how I wish you to serve my
horcrux.��

The smile faded disturbingly as the pale flat alien face grew cold and hard �
almost seeming bitter. ��

�You were granted an honour, Draco.� He allowed you to be the first to know his
body.. and you defiled him!�� I cannot ..begin.. to
express how that vexes me.�� He deserved
more than a quick, sneering, hand job and attempted rape by an arrogant,
ignorant, inbred little whelp such as
yourself.�
The blonde on the bed seemed to cringe even in the midst of
his own apparent mental breakdown.��

�I..I didn�t mean..for it to
happen that way� he wailed pleadingly, clenching his eyes closed. �I..I didn�t know it
was his first time.. and then
I..I.. just wanted
him so badly.. I�m sorry!!!� I�m so
sorry!!� I forgot w-who he was!.. He was just..just.. pretty..and different than
I expected.� Gentle and..
so.. so ..excited.. The way
he responded.. I..I just knew
he�d love it..he�d
scream in p-pleasure...� I thought.. if I could just �
�Silence!�

It was an icy hiss.�

�Your thoughts were not of him.� You
wished to dominate him.. to
take him by force and render him weak in order to satisfy your own traitorous
resentment of your service to me.�

Do not lie to me, Draco.� I can see everything
you hide in that dry ache you call a heart.�

Pitiful wretch!� You might, had you
behaved as a Slytherin, have won his affection.. you might even have succeeded in becoming his lover..and in
so doing, have gained much favour in my eyes.�

Now... you will be a whore.. Nothing more than a serviceable hole � a receptacle for the seed of any wizard that I
see fit to send you to.��

Lucius, I am quite certain, will be among the first
to request your services and it will please me to send you to him often.� He will fuck you so frequently.. and so capably...that I have
every expectation you will come to believe yourself equally enamoured of him
soon enough.� I will enjoy knowing that
you have been utterly despoiled..that you are craving
your own father�s body within you, begging him upon your knees for his
essence.�� It will, in the end, be the
only truly fitting punishment for ruining
my ..innocent..
horcrux.
Draco was sobbing again desperately.� Whispering soft mindless
pleas.� He collected a ringing
slap that tossed his face to the right on the bed.� The sobs took on a hysterical hiccoughy sound.
Lord Voldemort withdrew a few steps and began to
disrobe.�
Tom was not sure he wanted to watch this. If his other
self�s face was so disturbing, what might the rest of his body look like?!
The answer, when it was shortly revealed, was a relief.� Aside from the snow white colour and absence
of hair, Lord Voldemort�s body seemed quite normal.�

He had a pleasingly trained and well proportioned physique.� His genitalia did not evidence an extra
forked tongue, scales or webbing.�

It did seem to be several times
larger than Tom�s own equipment, however.��

He reasoned that his own body was still technically only fourteen and would
continue to develop.� Should it develop
to the dimensions of the organ wielded by the creature his other self had
become, Tom felt he would be quite content.��

Although.. there was perhaps
reason to expect that Lord Voldemort�s body might differ slightly from the one
he had occupied when he had still been Tom Riddle � his face probably wouldn�t
have been the only part of him to have been altered in the creation of this
strange white form.� Perhaps Tom himself
might never attain such an impressive size.
�Wipe your face!� I do
not wish to see aversion.� You will show desire, Draco!� To be permitted to be this close to my person
is a privilege rarely offered.� the Dark Lord growled softly.� �It would be in your interests to seek to
redeem yourself with me.� Perhaps.. if you are sufficiently
persuasive.. I may be swayed to alter my plans regarding your fate.�

The pale wizard had been gliding closer and now placed one knee upon the bed,
mere centimetres to the left of Draco�s thigh��
The blonde lay looking up at him with wide, petrified, tearful eyes.
Slowly, almost as if he were seeking to still a flighty
animal, Lord Voldemort leaned closer, placing his hands upon the bed to either
side of Draco�s shoulders.� The tiny
panicked whimper that the boy couldn�t quite smother made the much larger
wizard pause for a moment before continuing to lower himself over him.

Draco squirmed in panic , his head turning first one
way, then the next, as if looking for escape.
Tom, kneeling on the bed next to Draco�s shoulder, could see
what was going to happen before Draco himself realised it.�

Voldemort, still half standing, was subtly positioned between Draco�s rather
haphazardly splayed legs and, in lowering himself, his pale muscular thigh was
moving closer to the seventeen year old�s groin.�

When skin brushed Draco�s limp cock unexpectedly, he squeaked, almost jumping
out of his skin, and in a sudden flurry of hysterical motion, propelled himself
upward and backward across the width of the bed, scrambling to get away.

A white, long fingered hand caught his calf effortlessly and tugged, spilling
him, off balance, onto his back again.�

The larger wizard was atop him, straddling and holding him down, before Draco
could even get purchase on the bed to sit up again.
�You are ..yet again disappointing,
Draco.�� Voldemort hissed with narrowed
eyes.� �Have you no sense of self preservation?!�
Apparently Draco did not, Tom
observed when the terrified boy squeaked out �you�re so cold!�
Voldemort snarled momentarily, appearing frustrated, before
the expression was controlled once again.�
He shifted slightly in his straddle over the younger wizard, sliding
further up Draco�s thighs, skin against skin.

�My temperature is cooler than the average witch or wizard�� The Dark Lord conceded
impatiently.� �-It is however not
possible to apply a warming charm.� You
will adapt.�
Draco, trapped beneath him,
goggled, wide lunatic eyes rolling in panic.��
He opened his mouth but seemed beyond making coherent verbal
response.� All that came out was a faint
gurgle.�
Tom frowned slightly.�
Yes, Draco was overwrought and traumatised at present, but he was
behaving insultingly.� How dare he
respond with ...

...For a moment the memory of Harry�s earlier comment returned to him.� The older boy had made him feel that he was
unappealing.. no.� more than that.. that Tom�s touch disgusted him.�

Draco�s hysterical reaction to Lord Voldemort right now was making him experience
that sense of inadequacy again.

His other self apparently faced the same problem that he did � an unacceptable
physical form.�

Unlike Lord Voldemort, however, Tom knew that he would age.. whether
naturally or artificially, and could remedy the difficulty if he were to leave
Dumbledore�s little containment area.�

He suddenly felt something for his
other self beyond wary suspicion.� It
wasn�t much, but it was there.� The last
fifty years for Tom had been maddening, terrible, indescribable � but he had not
reached, with difficulty and sacrifice, what seemed to be a pinnacle of success
and power only to be destroyed by something as ridiculous as an infant.. he had not been forced to live
as a incorporeal parasite.� He had not
been forced to assume the chilly, monstrous form currently dominating Draco.�
Lord Voldemort seemed to half sigh in impatient irritation
and then he moved his hand from Draco�s forearm to his forehead, pressing the
tips of his long spidery fingers to the young wizard�s left temple��

Draco was nearly catatonic with fear.�

Then, from one moment to the next, the blonde changed.�

His eyes, which had been showing the whites all the way around the pale grey
irises, softened and became half lidded.�
His pupils dilated and he swallowed, licking his lips in nervous lust.�
The Dark Lord above him relaxed slightly and half
smirked.� �Much better..�
he murmured.� �You are a lovely creature,
Draco.� You would have been eminently
suitable for him.� It is a pity that you
are so foolish.��

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, appearing to concentrate upon something and
then gently slid his fingers away, trailing them down Draco�s cheek.� The hunger in the silvery eyes did not
falter.
�I�m sorry, my Lord� Draco responded at once in something
between a whine and a purr.� His unrestrained
hand moved to touch the thigh of the man above him but stopped, hovering only
an inch above his white skin, trembling.

�May I touch you?� he asked anxiously, and it sounded very much as though he
wanted nothing more than to do so.
�You may.� The Dark Lord answered quietly.� �Show me your devoted worship, Draco.�� He sat up, releasing Draco�s other arm and
sitting upright, straddling the younger wizard�s upper thighs.� His hard member bobbed slightly, hanging at
an angle above Draco�s groin, where the blonde�s own growing arousal was
evident.
Draco sighed happily and the hand that had been hovering
continued on its path to touch the tight muscled thigh lightly.� Draco�s other hand rose to mirror it and then
both stroked slowly upward, skin barely touching skin, fingertips ghosting over
the bony pelvis and slender taut abdomen, as Draco slowly lifted himself into a
sitting position.�

Lord Voldemort passively allowed the exploration, crimson eyes glinting as he
followed the boy�s movements.�

Draco�s nails skated over the dark wizard�s ribs, evoking a slight pleased
twitch from the man, before they continued their path beneath the white arms,
curving over his back upward, slowly becoming a gentle, awe-filled embrace as Draco
leaned in closer and began to press small lingering kisses to the larger
wizard�s chest.�
After a while, the Dark Lord moved to embrace Draco in turn,
stroking him like a well behaved pet as the boy began to tongue and suckle his
upper chest.�� Draco could reach no
further and thus, with slow pressure, the larger wizard pressed Draco back down
onto his back on the bed, curling over him.�

The overall impression reminded Tom incongruently of an animal feeding on
prey.� He could see Draco applying
himself eagerly to the pale column of the Dark Lord�s throat, wearing something
like excited joy upon his face, but the impression was nevertheless quite
predatory on the part of the older wizard.
He watched the ensuing pairing with mixed feelings.�

It disturbed him.

Lord Voldemort.. his other
self.. was obviously a skilled lover.� Even as brutally as he had taken the
seventeen year old, he had brought him to pleasure.�

He had not kissed him at any point and his gestures of affection to the younger
wizard were few and far between, but he had
allowed Draco to kiss and touch him.� The sounds that Draco made when he was being
fucked were so different to the sounds he had made in that other hall.. His squeals and groans so far from the miserable
sobbing.� Even the whimpers of pain were
different.� Draco had begged the Dark Lord for more.

It made Tom uncomfortable.�

For a brief moment he had felt.. But
no.� The thought was
repugnant.�

Very very briefly, he had..perhaps..
for only a second or two.. envied Draco.�

Not envied his other self for taking the boy, but envied Draco.�

For a fraction of a second he had imagined how it might feel to be panting,
pressed down on his stomach against the mattress, strong hands intertwined with
his own, while the inhuman wizard pounded into his body.�

The thought had hardened him as his thoughts of taking the blonde himself had
not.
When, even after releasing with a growl of satisfaction into
Draco�s body, Lord Voldemort did not appear to be finished and dragged the
blonde around to suck him, Tom had seen enough.��

He thought that it might possibly be more politik to
watch the entirety of the memory but he simply did not want to view
anymore.�

The reaction it caused in him was unpleasant and he refused to waste any
further time subjecting himself to the sensation.
Author note.
Review replies can be found at
http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/18725-review-replies/
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The First Horcrux