Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
- 14
- 15
- 16
Weee… expecting to hear some shit for this. >_< Sorry in advance for Voldemort.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

CH15

“You can’t possibly be considering it…?”
“Come on, he practically begged for it.” George hissed. “One look at that new pretty face Moldy was sporting, and he practically fell to his knees.”
Draco glared sullenly down at his feet from where he was sitting on the couch.
“He didn’t—!” Fred turned angrily to his twin. “He was just freaking out from his aura. Don’t pretend you didn’t feel it; it was horrible.”
“Yeah, so? I wasn’t kissing his ass like this git!”
“It was strategy.” Fred sighed, turning away before they started fighting. Voldemort had just swept in, waved some fancy, legal looking document, and casually mentioned that Draco would be marrying him at the end of the week. The most disturbing was that the twins hadn’t realized who he was at first. Oh, his magic screamed evil, corrupt, disturbed, bad, bad, bad, but they had been too busy staring at his new physique to care much at first. Then he had smiled and it had been so creepy that they had stopped breathing. He had gone with a hair-raising peck to Malfoy’s cheek, leaving behind an elaborate, expensive wizard’s robe that suited only one ceremony: a bonding.
Fred sat, trying to get Draco to meet his eyes. “You can’t do this.”
Draco blinked, looking up. His voice was calm, almost robotic. “What makes you think I have a choice?”
“There’s always a choice.”
Draco didn’t reply, just returned to staring at the floor.
George sighed; plopping onto the bed and crumpling the new fancy clothes Draco had gotten for them. “See. I bet he wants to marry ol’ Moldywarts. It’s all about power for his type.”
Fred watched, but if the words had affected him Draco didn’t show it. It looked grim; there was no doubt of that. But they could not allow it to happen. He gently pulled Draco’s face up, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You can’t bond with him. It will give him too much power and no one will be saved. I know you don’t want that.”
Draco frowned, red flashing in his eyes for a moment. “What the hell do you know about what I want? Just because I haven’t killed you these past two weeks doesn’t mean shit. Don’t pretend you know me.”
“Damn it Malfoy! We care about you, as stupid as you are. We’d have to be blind not to notice how you hate Snakehead. Stop playing the poor helpless princess and let’s think about this.” George growled.
“I’m not playing—!”
“We’re not pretending to know you.” Fred interrupted before a row could start. “But I know about you. You have a responsibility as Soul Vigil; you can’t allow yourself to be controlled by someone like Voldemort.”
“I’m just a candidate.” Draco bit out. “I have other responsibilities to see to like keeping my parents alive and making sure my new sibling is born safely, and not fucking dying.”
“How can anyone be safe with Voldemort running the world!” George suddenly shouted, punching the mattress in anger. “What kind of world will your little kid brother or sister be living in if everyone is afraid for their lives? Do you think he’ll leave it at that? Do you think he’ll stop at you? If your sibling has any affinity to power, Voldemort is going to either suck him dry or kill him incase he becomes another Soul Vigil Candidate or a possible threat.”
“Don’t you think I know that!” Draco snapped. “Shit!” He gasped, covering his eyes that had turned a dangerous red. “Just shut up already! I need to think!”
Fred got up and got him the dark pair of sunglasses Draco had left on his desk. They had found that staring into his eyes when they turned certain colors could have unexpected results. Red had a strong ability to paralyze and instill the overwhelming urge to run and, or, fight depending on Draco’s mood. If he subconsciously wanted the subject of his anger to cower away, then cower they would. Thankfully Draco had found the irrepressible ability annoying and he was more than willing to wear the shades when handed to him, especially at the times when his eyes started glowing silver.
Draco got up to pace, newly cut hair fanning out behind him. Everyone fell silent, minds whirling as they tried to make sense of it all.
One thing Draco was grateful for was that he had looked almost fully human when Voldemort had barged in. He hadn’t been able to do anything about his new glowy pallor and silver hair but wings, horns, tail, claws, ears, and anything else otherworldly that had to do with his Soul Form he was able to conceal naturally. Thankfully his eyes hadn’t gone too crazy during the short visit. They seemed to be a combination of his Veela and Scion ancestry and he was still having trouble controlling them. As long as Voldemort didn’t know how powerful he was Draco could be underestimated. It was something.
His first priority was preventing any sort of bonding ceremony with Voldemort. Fred was right; he couldn’t let his power be exploited like that. He’d have to worry about his family later, as difficult as that was for him.
“Hey!” George shouted excitedly, halting Draco in place. “You’re a Candidate, right? Isn’t there some retreat you have to do to prove your worth or what not? Wouldn’t that take precedence to anything Voldemort has planned?” Fred perked up, meeting Draco’s hopeful eyes.
“…You check the one on Ancient Rites of the Scion Clan. I’ve got So, You’re a Soul Vigil Candidate.”
Draco hopped onto the bed with George and handed him a powder blue book concerning The Soul Vigil History. The sound of pages turning filled the air until Fred shouted, “Got it!” With a flourish he cleared the bed and placed the open book in front of Draco. “Voldemort may not care if you’re the real Soul Vigil or not but it’s in his best interest for the rest of the world to think you are, especially the Domin. The Candidate is required to traverse the Ancient Forest of Gates and… converse with the gods? Anyways, that’s when you’re supposed to learn if you’re the one. It’s the only way to prove your title and you know the Domin will be aware of it.” He paused thoughtfully.
“…They’re probably hoping that Voldemort will force a bond before I can take the trial. That way it will disprove him as Heir.” Draco said, realising where Fred was headed.
“It doesn’t matter what they want. You can’t bond with Voldemort.” George said.
“But if Voldemort is disproved then he’ll loose the Domin as allies. What’s more powerful, a bond with me or the Domin armies?” Draco mussed.
“Draco.” Fred spoke carefully, calling his attention. “You’re the Soul Vigil.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” Fred turned to his brother to back him up.
“It’s clear as day to us, Malfoy. You’re seeped in ancient magic. I can’t even consider you human anymore; you have the same constitution as the Fae I ran into. You’re barely a physical being.” George stated, completely serious. “It doesn’t matter how much you try to look human, we’ve seen the real you. You’re the real deal, kid.”
“I— I… how can you…? I don’t want this!” Draco stuttered, backing away. “You can’t know for sure!”
Exchanging a glance, the brothers dropped the charm they had concealing their ears. It wasn’t extreme, but the pointed red tips were enough to give Draco pause. “Think about it Malfoy. We have a bit of Black blood ourselves. It gave us a huge wham of power during our exritus. When it comes to deciphering magic, we know.”
“You don’t understand.” Draco groaned once George’s words sunk in. “If I’m the Soul Vigil everything changes. It’s one thing to pretend— the responsibility! If I am really the Soul Vigil, and I actually gain that title, then it will put me directly at odds with Voldemort! I’ll have to fight him! I’ll die! My parents will die! Everyone will die!”
Fred snapped the handy sunglasses onto the hysterical boy before his eyes could go white. White was worse than red, much worse. “No one is going to die. You’re not fighting anyone. You’re going to get the fuck out of here before he can bond with you.” He said firmly while George held Draco in place.
“I can’t… I can’t do this…” Draco whimpered, fear shaking him.
“You’re not alone in this, git. We’ve got your back.” George consoled him gruffly. They weren’t much help with their magic chained but they’d still fight beside the prat as long as he fought the good fight.
“You have to calm down.” Fred soothed. “This is a good thing. You have a way out from Voldemort’s thumb for a couple of days. What we need right now is a way to announce this turn of events. We need enough people to know that this is the only way to prove who you are so Voldemort can’t discard the trial. We’ll worry about the big stuff, like escaping, later.”
“Twee.” Draco finally whispered after a short bout of hyperventilating. They all turned when a loud pop sounded in the middle of the room.
“Yes, Master Draco?”
“Take this book to my father and make sure he reads this passage. Tell him I need something discreetly written in the Daily Prophet concerning that passage. Make sure you are not observed.”
“Yes, Master Draco. Was there anything else?” The little house elf squeaked.
“No… Wait. Bring us a bottle of firewhiskey and three glasses when you can.” He added tiredly.
Twee bowed low, long nose just missing the ground, and disappeared with the book.
“Are you sure he’ll do it?”
“Yeah. Father will understand what it means.” Although feeling like his world had caved in he was glad he had the twins to help him. They did seem to be determined to get him killed, but he expected no less from Gryffindors. “I’ll have to find a way to get you two in with me. Maybe something like personal house elves…” He mussed.
“We’re not—!”
Draco lifted a brow at George. “Did I say you were? You will pretend to be humble, and quiet, and completely submissive or it will never work…” He froze as he caught the sound of footsteps. Someone was walking down the hall outside his door.
“What?” Fred asked, following his gaze to the door.
Draco didn’t reply. With a growl he stalked across the room and threw the door open. Macnair stood on the other side, hand raised to knock. “You dare trespass?” Draco glared, his posture screaming aggression.
Macnair scowled back. “I was given orders to check on your gift.” He stated stiffly even while his eyes traveled over Draco.
Draco wasn’t fooled for a moment. “No one is allowed in this corridor besides Lord Voldemort and my father.”
Macnair backed up but didn’t give in. “Normally. I was given orders. He wanted me to check their collars for any tampering.”
“So you can find an imaginary problem and drag them off, never to return, Macnair? I think not.” Draco drawled. “Lord Voldemort gave up all rights of ownership when he gave them to me, as he is well aware. It is within my rights to remove their collars, chop them up into bits, give them to another; whatever I wish.” Suddenly he lashed out, sending the man flying across the hall and into the far wall. With slow, deliberate steps he followed, standing over the fallen Death Eater. “If I ever catch you trying to take what is mine again, I will not hesitate to kill you.”
“You… have no right.” Macnair choked out, clutching his stomach in pain.
“I have all the right in the world.” Draco growled, pulling the man up by his cloak in a show of raw strength. “Within the week I will be Lord Voldemort’s mate. Do you think he will choose your side over mine when you seek to steal the sacred marriage gift he gave to me?” He tore off his sunglasses. “Get out. Now.”
Macnair gaped, pain searing through him from the two glowing points of red. With a broken cry he fell back, scrambling over the slick floor to get away. Draco waited until his form disappeared around the corner before turning back to his room and locking the door behind him.
“Shit man.” Fred gaped. “You lifted him right over your head.”
“I told you. You should have seen him when they first dragged us in.” George smiled. It didn’t mean he was any less awed. “Bloody brilliant, Malfoy.”
Draco just shrugged, more content now that he had gotten some of his aggressions out. “That guy pisses me off. Caught him feeling up some poor muggle boy; had nightmares for weeks. He cuts their fingers off.” He shuddered delicately. “Gods only know what he’d do to you two.”
George blinked, a slow smile appearing. “You actually care about us.”
Draco shot him a glare. “You wish. I was just protecting what’s mine, evil Weasel.”
“No, no, no. Everything you’ve got from Voldemort you’ve been quick to destroy.” Fred chimed in. “You actually care about our safety.”
“Shut up.”
“You don’t want us to die!” George slung an arm around the taller boy’s shoulder. “You’re our pretty, fluffy hero.” He sing-songed. “Our knight in shimmery dragon scales.” Fred teased, adding his arm to the other side.
Draco doubled his glare at the twins. “I hate you.”
“No you don’t!” They laughed in unison; quickly ducking the well-aimed punches but missing the sudden tail that wrapped around their legs.

*******

Malfoy Heir To Take Ancient Candidate Trial
Draco stared at the cover page of the Daily Prophet laying on the large desk in his father’s study. You’d think they could have found a better picture than his fifth year school photo. The newsprint did nothing for his complexion. Well, seems there was no going back now.
“I naturally assumed you knew, my Lord. It is well documented. The trial is required of all Soul Vigil Candidates.”
“It must have slipped my mind.” Voldemort said benignly. He towered over where Draco was calmly sitting. “Thankfully, it was caught before our bonding. How awkward that would have been.”
“Indeed.” Draco murmured, fixing him his best demure smile while trying to ignore the way his breakfast was fighting to come back up. He should have known better than to eat. “It would have voided both the ceremony and my credibility.”
“And we couldn’t have that.” Red eyes bored into bright grey.
“I was thinking of the garden for the ceremony.” Draco said airily. The pressure of Voldemort trying to break into his mind was not missed by him. He found it easier to block the demon out then control his eyes that were threatening even now to turn white. “Mother is so fond of the view; I think she must be the most excited out of all of us. Do you suppose we’ll move out? I think I’ll miss the Manor if we do.”
Voldemort smiled, his new handsome features twisting chillingly. He carefully picked up Draco’s hand from where it was resting on the table. “I believe we can stay for a while. The wards are quite sturdy here. As for the garden, I’ll have to check with the books. We must keep with ceremony after all.” Without warning, he slid Draco’s chair back and pulled him to his feet.
“My Lord?” Draco tried to remain calm; being cornered against the unmoving desk only seemed to incite his panic.
“Yes, pet?”
Draco blanched, his mind going blank. Pet? What the hell was pet suppose to mean?!?!?! …And what was happening to his personal space?
Hand still firmly clamped on the pale wrist, Voldemort slid his other up Draco’s arm and stepped closer. “They say that the Soul Vigil is one of the most desirable beings on the planet. I’m beginning to understand where that came from.” He whispered lowly.
Fear settled heavily in the pit of his stomach and clutched tightly at his chest. This had not been expected. “My Lord, please.” Draco stuttered, trying to remove himself from Voldemort’s clutches without getting himself killed. Come on, he had to be over sixty, new face or not! “This is not a wise— idea!” He yelped as suddenly all space between them disappeared and he was crushed in Voldemort’s embrace.
“And how’s that, pet?” Voldemort asked from somewhere around his neck.
Oh Gods— think brain, think! No, no, don’t throw up; think! “Errr…” Shit, he was starting to sound like Potter now! Work brain!
“Your skin is divine, Draconis. It nearly glows… I’m told this is one of the signs and I must say, I do enjoy it.” He trailed a finger down Draco’s cheek and neck, pausing at the collar of his shirt. With a sharp tug, the top three buttons came undone. “That’s better… very appealing.” His hands came to circle lightly around Draco’s bare neck, gripping somewhat. “It’s quite a wonder, this new body of mine. It really seems quite fond of you.” He ground his groin against Draco’s hip, burying his head into his slender neck and licking his way up.
“Lord, your magic,” Draco whimpered out, his eyes quickly fading to white. He was having trouble breathing, the body against his far too close; the hand on his neck far too tight. Worse was the suffocating, disgusting aura of overwhelming evil that was crawling over his skin, trying to force its way past his barriers. “You’re corrupting me…”
Voldemort chuckled lightly. “I wouldn’t go that far. We’ll have to wait for the ceremony before I get a chance to do that, pet.” He flicked another button open, pulling the shirt down to reveal Draco’s slender shoulders. “Let me be clear, that will be exactly what happens boy. You cannot be joined to me with such… purity.” He murmured, drinking in the trembling sight before him. “It frightens you, I’m sure.” With a wrench, he fisted Draco’s hair and pulled his head back. “It should, pet. It should.” He descended as if to kiss him but paused, eyes caught with Draco’s.
“That’s quite the trick.” Voldemort said tightly, pulling away ever so slightly.
“Forgive me, Lord.” Draco gasped, fighting the urge to tear apart the threat wrapped around him. His fear of the consequences was the only thing that kept him in check. “It’s instinctual. You’re magic’s corrupting me… and my body… wants… to fight…”
“…I see. As entertaining as it will be to take you against your wishes, this is not the time.” He pulled back slowly; eyes still locked with Draco’s void ones. “I think it’s time for you to calm yourself.”
“Back off.” Draco bit out. Blood was dripping from where his claws had dug into his fist. “Your magic is causing this.” Which was half true. The main cause was Draco’s absolute, complete, mind numbing fear but he wouldn’t give Voldemort the satisfaction of knowing that.
Voldemort complied slowly, his hand gripping his wand tightly. His posture was looking strained; as if a terrible weight was crushing down on him and a mere slip would bring the man to the ground. This was not the way Draco had wanted to experiment with the white eyes. He didn’t regret it for a moment if it got Voldemort away from him. After a few shuddering breaths, Draco was able to shut his eyes and break the battle of control lacing between them. He refused to open them again, not with Voldemort still in the room.
“Forgive me, my Lord. I am still newly formed. I have little control.”
“It is alright, Draconis. I’m relieved I didn’t have to destroy you; it would be such a waste.” Even now his eyes traveled over the boy distractedly. “You have till the end of the week for this trial. I’m afraid I cannot join you but don’t be alarmed. I’ll make sure you are well guarded. The Ministry is quite anxious to get their hands on you.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” Draco sighed. Sliding a hand over the center of his bare chest lessened his fear immediately, the familiar presence there reassuring him. “May I bring my gift? I don’t like them being left alone with the others. Macnair tried to steal them from me a few days ago.”
“As you wish, pet.” The smear of blood on Draco’s chest from the boy’s palm became his full attention. “…Anything else?”
“No,” Draco whispered, eyes opening when he caught the strange note in his captor’s voice. Voldemort was staring at him as if he wanted to pound him into the desk. He clutched at his chest but fear didn’t reach his brain. His mind was clear and strong. Now what had the twins said…?
“I await our wedding night, my Lord. Will you corrupt me then?” Draco smiled beneath long lashes, rocking his hips ever so subtly. To his surprise it worked; all that horrible training actually had a use. Too bad it was wasted on the horrifying beast leering at him.
Voldemort’s pupils expanded, the red a mere ring in his eyes now. Any lingering suspicion disappeared as well as his uneasy posture. “I would have you now, pet, defiling your father’s study, if it was not for the need of ritual.” He hissed sharply, taking a step forward.
“I don’t think my father would approve, Lord.” Never breaking eye contact Draco shifted again, his shirt slipping lower. Not bad; make a little joke… now draw on his possessive side…
“Oh, I’m sure Lucius would be quite livid.” Voldemort growled, circling around Draco’s slim form. “He’s very protective… I can understand with such a, tempting heir.”
“Tempting, my Lord?” He asked slowly, looking confused. “…I suppose you may be right. I’ve had quite the few unwanted visitors to my wing these past weeks. They keep on insisting to draw me out on your order but I know you only call me through my father. I do hope they’ll behave when I’m at the trial.” A concerned little furrow to his brow completed the image. Genius.
Voldemort froze, his face a stiff mask of anger. “Have they now?” He eyed Draco possessively. “And you refused them all?”
“Of course, my Lord!” Draco gasped, offended. “Just the thought of being touched by such weak things disgusts me.” Well he couldn’t claim love, Voldemort wasn’t that stupid. “I would have killed them if I thought you wouldn’t punish me for it.” He waited, watching as Voldemort’s expression softened ever so slightly. Let him think he was in charge. Voldemort was the boss. “Was I wrong, my Lord? Should I have killed them instead?”
“Only if you have no other option, pet. I enjoy my Death Eaters even if they are fools. I will deal with them about this. It won’t happen again. …What of your slaves? They haven’t tried anything untoward, have they?”
“They’re perfectly subdued, my Lord.” Draco beamed; refusing to flinch from the hand that had found its way to the blood on his chest. “Your gift was ideal. I’ve enjoyed playing with them.”
“I would taste you but I think it would burn me.” Voldemort muttered, eyeing the blood heatedly.
“I wouldn’t recommend it, my Lord. Please, before I forget—.” Draco gasped from the hand that had grasped his behind and was pulling him tightly into his captor. “You must let whoever is to accompany me know that they can not enter the forest, ever. It will drive the gods away and ruin the trial.”
“Fine.” Voldemort rasped, breathing deeply of the sweet flesh. “I will have you, pet. All of you. Completely.” He raked his fingers up and down Draco’s lower back and slowly ground against him. “…If you give flight, believe me, your capture will be most pleasured… but only by me.” He grasped Draco’s slender wrist painfully but made no move to do anything else.
“Understood, my Lord.” Draco whimpered; doing his best to look weak, frightened, and incapable of doing anything other than being pretty. He had realized quickly that this was what had incited Voldemort’s passions more than anything else. Annoyingly, it also came rather easy to him. “Should I go prepare then? There is a ritual I must start and it takes a while to complete.”
“I suggest you do.” Voldemort nodded, pulling back discontentedly. “Make sure that you have that silly eye trick of yours under control the next time we meet, pet. The first time will be easier on you if you don’t fight.”
Draco nodded, fixing a grateful smile for Voldemort’s generosity to cover the taste of vomit in his mouth. “Thank you, my Lord. I look forward to it.” With shaky knees he carefully made his way across the office, out the door and around the corner where he immediately threw himself into his father’s waiting arms. They didn’t speak, just made stumbled quickly to Draco’s rooms. The twins looked up inquiringly from the couch, but fell silent as they saw the Malfoys’ combined expressions.
“It clings.” Draco whimpered, pulling at his flesh fitfully. “Can you remove it? It’s like his magic is eating through me.”
“Calm yourself.” Lucius chided, drawing his wand and quickly cleansing the remnants of Voldemort’s presence from his son. “Are you all right? Do you need healing?”
“No, I’m fine.” Draco sighed, looking anything but. In a flash he had latched himself around his father’s waist, biting back tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I have to do this.”
“Don’t be.” Lucius held him firmly. “I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you from this. The instant Voldemort saw your mother’s power we were trapped. We want you to fight; we need you to rise above this, Draconis. You have our support no matter what. Don’t live in regret… you’ve made us proud, son.” With a final squeeze he pulled away, his face threatening to break from it’s emotionless mask. “I can’t stay… Be strong little dragon.” He kissed Draco’s cheek and left.
Draco stared at the closed door, tears streaming mindlessly. He slowly dragged himself to his bed and curled up in a ball atop the covers. There, he let the pain drain out of him with each teardrop, clutching his chest the whole time until sleep finally eased his grief.
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Awakening To the Dream

Malfoy Heir To Take Ancient Candidate Trial