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

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
It was moonless. Clouds were clogged together, packed into a thick blanket. A sour wind swept across the rugged, flat landscape. The scent of salty sea hung in the air. It was a night on which lone ghosts prowled the fields, the bogs and the moors littered with remnants of ancient buildings, looking, searching, restless and in anticipation. They flocked to the tall light in the distance, seeking to warn the demon people living at the Lighthouse Farm. A wide kilometre away from the farm, several wisps of smoke formed, then materialized until there was a small army assembled. The wind swept across the field where they stood, breathless, adrenalin pumping in their veins, some with fear in their hearts. The wind whichtore in their clothing, swept by the beach and brought back a wall of sand which was hurled at them. Some wincing, some stood. The sand scraped against their skin, hurt their eyes. The Death Eaters began to move forward, on a silent command by their leader who was standing in their midst.

Draco arched his neck backwards and closed his eyes. It would soon be time. He just wanted to enjoy this, one last time. He spread his legs a little more, felt the silky erection slide in between his legs. Hungry lips found his neck, and a shower of kisses soon caressed the skin over the pulsating vein. As the the erection began to penetrate, his breaths became shallower, his pulse quickened, and his breath hitched. Relaxing, he focused on the hungry lips grazing his skin, biting carefully, nipping at the skin over his vein where it smelled faintly of blood. Draco was penetrated. He was weightless, stretched his arms out to either side. His pale skin glowed, a sharp contrast to the dark, slightly curled hair which fell down on him, bathing him with silky touches, covering his arms, shoulders and shrouding his head, mingling with his blond locks. His master put one hand behind Draco's neck, the other was slipped under his arms. Locking him completely, Draco felt as he he melted into the flesh of Melchior, truly uniting with him. As the eudaimon began to pump, Draco swung his arms around his master, holding him tightly. Those great, black wings heaved in the air above them, soon fell soon arose, shrouding them both, creating a cocoon into which they both could stay and forget about the world outside. Draco wished he could do more, bring his master more pleasure, be more for him. What if this was it?! Draco thought. What if this was the point in time just before everything went wrong, and he would lose it all? What if Voldemort somehow succeeded in bringing him down? What if Satan wouldn't keep his word? What if this was their final moment together? Suddenly, Draco regretted his coldness towards his master. He ought to put this ridiculous pride aside and make love to him. He ought to have done that ages ago. He should have changed his mind the day they lay eyes on one another and loved him! What of all of the children between them which never would live? Draco would go down in history as the one Childbearer of the eudaimons who never did just that. Bearing children. What good did it do, to have all this power and run around doing battle against demons and killing Death Eaters if there were no children he could give in return? Melchior had proven himself to be a good father. A bit distant at times, but when he was there, he acknowledged his son. Oh Draco would be remembered as a cheat, a disappointment! Back in the present, struggling with his conscience, he wrapped his legs around the small of Melchior's back, burying his face into the safety of Melchior's chest, smelling the familiar scent of man. Of demon. Of Melchior, everything that he was. What if this was their last moment together? Draco wanted all of him, all of him deep inside, wishing his body would open up and swallow his master. He felt Melchior suddenly tense up. He halted his thrusts, and liberated himself enough to look Draco in the eye. There it was again. The moment they made eye contact, Draco's head began to spin. Melchior's dark eyes widened, and in those eyes, Draco saw his own reflection, the blackness of his irises widening as well. The sound of wings beating through the air came from somewhere, and it became louder. Draco felt Melchior melt into him, into the black void which was his innermost being. He could literally see the eudaimon before his mind's eye, a miniature ethereal beauty escaping, flying inside him. This wasn't like being possessed by Melchior. It was rather as if Draco had sucked him in, opening himself up in a way he'd only felt once before. He wanted a piece of Melchior permanently inside him, scared livid to imagine an existence soon coming to an end without having truly united. As if he had been numbed, Draco vaguely registered that Melchior had begun to thrust again. This time with unrestrained passion. Sweat came from nowhere, pouring down the eudaimon's temple, plastering his silky smooth hair to his temples, trickling down the sides of his ribcage. The sweat on their bodies tingled, the air surrounding them brimming with magic at work. Demon magic.

Draco finally opened his eyes as the orgasm passed. It had been another one of those sky-rocketing, high-flying ones which just kept on going and going, filling him from head to toe with the sense of being afloat on clouds. It had ridden him so hard he had tensed up in every limb, and he had no way of controlling himself as it had come across him as a shock wave. The only thing he stayed focused on, was the eye contact with Melchior. Before his mind's eye, he saw the ethereal Melchior inside of him melting together with a small, shining ball of light, until it was one shapeless mass of pulsating matter. As the orgasm ebbed out of him, the vision dissolved. Draco remained where it had begun, sprawled on the sitting room floor. The children were still asleep. It was past midnight.

Draco went up to the bedroom of the children. He stood there, breathless in the half dark, watching their resting bodies. His body was on edge and he kept checking his nervousness. He stole a glance through the curtains and saw shadows moving past the corners of the house. Death Eaters. He tightened his grip around his wand. Standing still, he listened to steps in the hallway down stairs, hearing how the front door was opened, then shut. Voices shouted, then Draco thought he heard a loud pop. Silence. The hairs on Draco's arm stood up as another presence materialized down stairs. Satan.

Heart was racing fast now, within Voldemort. The blood in his veins pulsed hard to meet the increased demand for oxygen as adrenaline soared. Draco Malfoy now stood among them, surrounded by thirty wands with their tips trained at him. He was quiet, calm, dressed to the nines as per usual in black suit, black tie. Cropped platinum hair. He glanced about at them, staring them down with cold, grey eyes. He had grown taller taller than last time he had stood before Voldemort. He hadn't aged a day, it seemed.

"How unfortunate that it had to come to this, young Malfoy" Lord Voldemort began. "With the proper attitude, I'm sure you would have become a capable colleague. But you see, there can be only one dark lord to rule this world, and that is going to be me! Avada Kadavra!" Voldemort flung out with his wand, aiming for Draco Malfoy. A jet of deadly green shot forward. Malfoy raised his hand in defence, and the spell stopped just inches from the flesh of his palm, where it rebounded in a sharp angle. Death Eaters leapt to either side to escape the death magic. Voldemort looked at Malfoy in disbelief and anger. He watched the boy's appearance melt away. Wings unfolded from the shoulder. Great black wings.

Two seconds passed before Voldemort comprehended that he had been set up. The eudaimon which now materialized in front of them, was clad in red leather. His long, bronze-coloured hair floated about his head in the strong wind. On either side, Death Eaters began to scream before they exploded from within. A shower of pulp, blood and body parts coloured the bystanders. In their panic, they cast the killing curse towards the predator in their midst, but as the curses rebounded, their neighbours fell dead to the muddy grass. Not once did the eudaimon lose eye contact with Voldemort. Those handsome, ethereal features were soon shrouded by blood. Bones flew, chests were severed and the smell of fresh blood filled the nocturnal air. Death Eaters began to Disapparate, and their ranks were quickly thinning out.

"Your master gave me his word!" Voldemort shouted through the mayhem. The eudaimon laughed in return, staring at the dark lord with evil in his black eyes.

"Aye" he finally replied, "he did. And that word has been kept. Draco's master is not here. Nor has he lifted a finger to aid Draco Malfoy."

"You're not his master?!" Lord Voldemort mumbled.

"I am his master's brother, baka!" the eudaimon retorted, spitting out the Japanese word for 'idiot' at the end. Seeing his defeat, Lord Voldemort then Disapparated. The last thing he saw before vanishing, was another of his followers burst open.

Draco opened the curtains a bit more. There was nothing outside. He felt Melchior's hands on his shoulders, reassuringly. "He wants to speak to you" his master whispered. Draco obeyed, and his master escorted him down the stairs. Satan was still there in the sitting room. Now, he eyed Draco as he entered, and said: "You're going to Hogwarts. You must save Fred Weasley and Lavender Brown from dying."
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Dark Lord Rising