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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Minerva McGonagall stood and watched, breathless, as the protective shield above Hogwarts dissolved. It was like watching cancer eat up the very humanity which tried its best to stay alive. The edges burning away like embers eating away at a piece of paper.

It seemed like such an absurd place to be doing it. Draco Malfoy nevertheless complied, allowing Melchior to come up on him from behind. The forest overlooking the castle was dark, and all thought it seemed quiet from where he was standing, Draco knew it to be filled with snatchers. Melchior had undone Draco's pants with greedy fingers. The eudaimon's experienced digits were currently snaking their way into Draco's underwear, freeing the growing erection hidden there from its confines. The air was filled with danger, with smoke and the scent of withered curses. He arched his head backwards as he felt Melchior's greedy lips on his neck. He shut his eyes, feeling the world turn into chaos. He focused on the hot breath on his skin, the immense explosion of electricity sending a thousand bolts through his skin, propelling down to his abdomen. Draco felt Melchior's hand roam downwards, engulf his manhood, gently but greedy massaging it. The other hand held his right arm tight. It was a crushing grip, telling Draco that this was a moment to hang around for. The eudaimon was having his way with his slave, not caring if there were snatchers around. Draco dropped his underwear, felt the chill of the evening against his naked skin. The eudaimon undid his breeches, and Draco could feel the rock hard erection caress the crevice between his cheeks. He reached down and put his hands on top of Melchior's, aiding him, goading him, encouraging him to stroke more.

“Give me more of this …!” Draco whispered hoarsely, “give me more of you …!” he continued to plead with lust brimming in his voice. The nocturnal air he breathed was about to lose its virginity. Before him lay a scene of a castle under siege, as it was being deflowered of its maidenhead. The last protection between good and evil. Draco felt the tip of Melchior's greedy manhood probe his entrance. He held on to Melchior's arm, spreading his legs, sensing his hole begging to be filled. Melchior was easy to tempt, and inserted himself gently into Draco's orifice. He allowed the young Slytherin a moment to adjust, before he began to thrust into the warm, wet and inviting entrance. Draco moaned out his pleasure at the intrusion, verbally welcoming it. Raw, unrestrained lust filled him, and he inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh air scented with pine and fresh dirt. Draco felt one with nature now, bent over and filled by his master. The thrusts came fiercely and in high tempo. The absurdity of being taken like this, here and now before the battle of Hogwarts commenced, was crystal clear in Draco's mind. But he didn't want it any other way. This was their ritual. This was how they started off every battle they had been fighting in. He shut his eyes, inhaled the crisp nocturnal air and then opened his eyes again. He could feel Melchior seeping into his veins, feel him inside his loin, filling up his hips, travelling down his legs. He watched an overwhelming band of snatchers cascade down the plains towards the roofed bridge. Had he seen right? Yes, there stood a lone figure. It was Neville! A jolt of fear shot through Draco and bloomed in his chest. He saw the remains of the shield flare up as several of the snatchers ran straight to their deaths. Melchior was pounding away now, and he had grasped Draco's hips with both hands. It all made perfect sense somehow, to stand here and be taken from behind whilst overlooking the madness unfolding beneath them. He saw Neville make a narrow escape. It would soon be the moment to take action. Melchior grasped a fistful of platinum hair and forced Draco's head backwards. Draco willingly obeyed, grasping for a hold of Melchior's body behind him. He wanted that body heat, wanted it inside, and he prayed for more. He felt one with nature, as if his body no longer had any skin. He felt the night, felt the forces of good and evil coarse through him, cling to his flesh and seep into his veins. Tonight, he would be fighting against everything his parents believed in. He would be fighting for Harry, for Hermione and for Ron's brother. He would be fighting for good, for Hogwarts and everything the school inevitably had given him as a home and as an institution. It had given him love. It had given him friendship. His thoughts went to Luna, her pale face shrouded by long platinum locks. Was she down there? Was she safe? He felt Melchior melt into him as the eudaimon came. The last thrusts were deep, as if the eudaimon dug into Draco's flesh with his erection, spurting his seed deep within. Afterwards, Draco's knees gave in, and he knelt in the grass on the ledge overlooking the castle. Melchior wouldn't take his hands of him, finding the boy's erection, stroking him off like mad. Draco came just moments later. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching as the last of the shield dissolve, watched as he came, seeing the swarm of Death Eaters as they commenced with their onslaught. As with all battles, it was a dreadful sight when knowing that the odds for the children of Hogwarts to beat an untold number of adult Death Eaters, were astronomical. It was going to be ugly and raw. He set the thought aside for a moment, allowing himself the warm embrace which Melchior offered, wrapping his arms around his young protégé in silent approval of their recent intimacy. Draco twisted around, crushing his lips with force and unrestrained love unto Melchior's. They caught each other in a lovers' embrace before the storm. Setting his garments back in an orderly fashion, Draco Apparated into the storm.

Severus Snape felt sweat trickle down his back. He stood amongst the Death Eaters – on what definitely felt like the wrong side of the fence – and watched as the Death Eaters launched their attack. It had been years since he'd felt so cold, so dead inside. A few metres ahead of him, stood Voldemort himself, unaware of the traitor in their midst. When Harry had revealed himself to be in Hogwarts, Severus' own feelings for the boy had betrayed him. He had been relieved to see Potter alive and well. He had wanted to tell the boy everything, to voice his affection for him. It was with regret that he had to play out his part as a Death Eater, that he had to continue to keep up appearances. Had she seen it on his face? Severus feared she had been all too angry. Dumbedore had deliberately kept her in the dark, and he had made Severus swear to do the same once he was gone. If anything, at least the Carrows had been put out of the game.

It couldn't possibly hurt his assignment to take out a few Death Eaters on his way through the crowd, Draco Malfoy thought as he Disapparated and landed in the middle of the fight. He rushed ahead, stabbing a Death Eater here and killing off another Death Eater there. He was so effective that Minerva McGonagall quickly spotted him and how he met the giants head on, sending several of them to the ground in an instant. She watched him conjure up creatures from the very abyss of Hell, and he seemed in complete control as he ordered them to meet the spiders head on. It frightened her to see how easily he manipulated the creatures to his will, and for a heartbeat, she could very well see the next dark lord in him. He darted to the left, leaving the courtyard. He saw her there. Lavender Brown. She was being chased by the werewolf. She twisted and threw a spell. It missed. She slipped and fell, and he jumped at her at the same moment. Draco swung out his arm and hit Greyback while he was in his leap. The spell sent the werewolf reeling, but he was still alive. Draco climbed the debris, seeing in slow motion how Lavender struggled to get up. Greyback was already on his feet, showing off his fangs, ready for the kill. Draco swung his wand, met Lavender's eyes for a second, before the curse ejected. Bricks and debris came alive, flew through the air and were transformed into projectiles. It stopped Greyback, who raised his arms to shield himself. The impact of about twenty stones were eventually too much. He fell to his knees, and three of the bricks hit him in the head. Draco didn't stop until Greyback's head was bashed in. When there was enough blood flowing, Draco stepped down from the pile of rocks he was standing on, took Lavender by the hand and helped her to her feet. She had a nasty cut on her left temple but seemed otherwise fine. One objective down, one to go. He took her by the hand and dragged her through the midst of the battle, parting with spells of Fiendfyre setting Death Eaters ablaze, Stupefys and Sectumsempras. His heart pumped fast, adrenalin filled every nerve and his focus was high. Lavender was gasping, following as best as she could. She had courage, he had to give her that. Draco had to stop on his toes, dodging a spell. Lavender ran into him from behind, and they both fell to the ground. She landed on top of him, and for an instant they looked into each other's eyes. She was scared, but determined, trusting him completely.

How many nights had not Draco seen the same look in Hermione's eyes? He was reminded of the sobering fact that this was not some common war in Hell. Here was a class-mate who trusted him. These were real human beings he was dealing with. And Lavender was ultimately just a girl who had no real combat experience. A real maiden in distress. He got her back up on her feet. Sensing Melchior in the back of his head, he took hold of her hand and kept on going, up the stairs, dodging spells and collapsing walls. Lavender was barely hanging on, yet apparently grateful to have someone next to her. Rounding the corner to the makeshift infirmary, Draco and Lavender were nearly hit by a wall of friendly fire. He shoved her behind the defence lines, before he turned on his heel and ran for the stairs leading upwards.

Lord Voldemort winced and gasped. Somewhere in the castle, Harry Potter did the same, as the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw perished in the rogue Fiendfyre flames in the Room of Requirement. Lord Voldemort was scared now, really scared. He turned to stare at his army. One Death Eater approached him, and Lord Voldemort swung out with the Avada Kadavra. He wasn't thinking clearly, on the verge of panic, it seemed. He turned to his snake, and started walking. Moments later, they Disapparated. Severus Snape let out a sigh.

Draco Malfoy felt confident. His master was with him, whispering to him in the back of his head, guiding his feet. He slashed open the throat of a Death Eater who was unfortunate enough to Disapparate virtually next to him. He made a sweeping gesture with his wand, and the staircase beneath another Death Eater's feet obliterated. Draco found Fred Weasley slightly off course. That was the challenge of being guided by a mind who stood outside the battle. He got hold of the overall picture, but the details around the specific moments could vary greatly. Fred was engaged in a duel with a fierce Death Eater who fought with a true passion. Draco saw the incoming spell coming from Fred's left, from somewhere down at the courtyard. Fred was fully occupied with the Death Eater whom he was barely able to handle. Acting on instinct, Draco jumped forward, caught Fred around his waist and Apparated them both away. For some reason, Draco had begun to think about Fred's mum. The worst possible outcome would have to be to stand in front of that woman and tell her he had failed to save her son. Now, they both fell on top of her. Like a cat, Draco immediately rolled to his feet with elegant movements. Mother and son struggled to disentangle themselves from one another, and Fred was showered with a mother's verbal concern and then immediately scolded for his recklessness since he had come out of the blue with none other than Draco Malfoy. Draco heard her barking all the way to the front entrance, and he couldn't hold back a grin, knowing Weasley was in trouble. Sweeping through the air with his wand, Draco opened a portal and summoned two of his favourite beasts, ordering them to stand guard. Being the strongest magical creatures of Hell, they put up shields just by imagining it. Then he caught glimpse of Harry, Ron and Hermione who darted across the courtyard. It struck him that Hermione had no idea he was here, and if she found out and guessed who was minding their children, Draco would have greater reason to fear her vengeance than that of any Death Eater. Ouch. He fought the impulse to chase after her, making sure she was fine. This was a critical point now, when Harry and Voldemort needed to play out their parts. Draco checked his impulses and reminded himself of his objective. He turned on his heel, found Lavender and brought her resolutely over to where Fred was standing. The red-head didn't get it yet. Draco had to take him by the shoulders and sit him down next to Lavender. Draco then placed himself in front of them, looked them down his nose, folded his arms above his chest and said: “Do not move”. Molly Weasley was the first to get it. When her son tried to get up to object and say: “Now look here, Malfoy”, she hit him over the head only the way a mother can. Getting the message, eyeing them both and then Lavender Brown, it dawned on the twin that he had just been saved from something. Something life-threatening. Draco had learned the hard way that Fate had a funny and uncanny way of slithering its way to where it was supposed to be. Saving Fred from one explosion didn't mean that the boy couldn't die in another just moments later. Draco's presence had to be there all of the way for Fate to be sidetracked.

Severus Snape felt as if his final hour had approached. He stood before the dark lord, summoned as he had been to the boathouse beneath Hogwarts castle. This was nothing new, really. Many times in the past, he had been summoned to attend the dark lord alone. Gradually, such meetings had enabled Snape to build the much needed confidence and trust which had gotten Dumbledore and Severus to where they were today. Voldemort was walking back and forth, obviously concerned. Severus tried to appear calm and confident, aiming to calm the increasingly erratic dark lord. To no avail. Severus had a bad feeling about this. He watched the dark lord clutch the Elder wand, only to release it and nearly throw it away, as if he had no idea what to do with it.

“You have performed extraordinary magic with this wand, my lord, only in the past few hours alone.”

“No!” the dark lord retorted, pacing back and forth, “I am extraordinary. But the wand resists me.”

“There is no wand more powerful. Ollivander said so himself” Severus continued, his gut more forewarning than moments before. He wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was going. “To night, when the boy comes, it will not fail you, I'm sure” Severus continued. “It answers to you, and to you only.” Severus tried to remain calm, and he focused on keeping his voice calm and natural. He folded his hands behind the small of his back, wondering what would come next. Reassurance had usually been his best trick against the dark lord's unpredictable temper. So far.

“Does it?” the dark lord answered. He had walked up to Severus, and was standing so close Severus could see all the details of his mutilated face, the red rims around the eyes and the swollen skin beneath them from countless restless nights. The defiant eyes and the way those irises were speckled with different shades of blue. This rhetorical question combined with the dark lord's behaviour which told Severus that he knew something Severus had missed, unhinged him. The dark foreboding he could feel, combined with the stomach cramp which had lasted all day, was highly unsettling. Severus actually began to doubt he could keep it together.

“My lord?” Severus replied, suddenly unsure of the dark lord's next move. Severus tried to sound positive.

“The wand. Does it truly answer to me? You're a clever man, Severus. Surely you must know. Where does its true loyalty lie?” the dark lord said, circling around Severus like a predator about to fall down on its prey. Severus felt the hair on the back of his neck stand as the dark lord swivelled up behind him. Keep it together now. Keep it together.

“With you of course, my lord” Severus answered which as much level and naiveté as he could muster.

“The Elder wand cannot serve me properly because I am not its true master. The Elder wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Dumbledore, Severus. While you live, the Elder wand cannot truly be mine.” Here, the dark lord paused. He watched as the words sank into Severus' brains. Severus felt how his breath quickened. His heart began to race, and the feeling of sickness came over him. He realised where the dark lord was going with this conversation. He realised it was nearing the end.

“You've been a good and faithful servant, Severus.” Lord Voldemort paused to look at Severus, his face however mutilated, speaking volumes. This was serious. This was his inner thoughts. And he was ready to sacrifice Severus at any cost. “But only I can live. Forever.”

Harry Potter had been following the conversation from the outside. Crouched against the window, he had held his breath and listened to every word. He too, could tell from the words alone where it was going. He braced himself for the inevitable.

“My lord …!” he heard Severus say. Then Severus gasped, or had it been Voldemort? Then came another, louder moan, a sort of gurgle, and Harry Potter could not stem his curiosity any longer. He stole beneath the window despite Hermione's objections, and peeked inside through the door. His heart pounded so hard in his chest that the pulse drummed in his ears. Voldemort was staggering backwards, clutching his throat. Bleeding. Voldemort stared at Severus in disbelief, and his eyes spoke volumes. Had they been able to talk, they would have shouted 'traitor!'. The snake hissed, curled up for an attack and then lunged at Severus. The headmaster stumbled backwards, and he slipped and fell against the window. Those big jaws of the snake opened wide, and the fangs came closer. And closer. Severus' belly clamped up in a knot. It went hard, then something pushed on the inside, and Severus felt the magic shield leave his body. Nagini came at full speed, Severus reached for his wand but she was too close. The, some ten inches from his belly, she hit something unseen and was rebuked. She bounced backwards, momentarily shaken by the impact. The big snake did not hesitate to try again, and slung herself forward swiftly. Severus flinched, thinking he couldn't possibly be so lucky a second time. Again, the snake bounced off. Voldemort, who had recomposed himself after the initial shock, was clutching his wound. He looked infuriated, directed his wand at Snape and shouted : “Avada Kadavra!”

The world stood still. Severus felt the blood in his veins pound, like a church bell ringing at the end of a funeral. He saw the green jet of deadly magic spurt out from the Elder wand, saw it come his way, and he thought to himself that this – this was the end. He was one second later than Voldemort to lift his wand in defence, and that one second – was now costing him his life. He heard the snake hiss, watched the slithering form coil up, getting ready for another attack. The jet of green came closer, until green was all he could see. Severus closed his eyes and turned his head away on impulse. Magic rippled through the air and there was a loud cracking noise. Green flared, even behind his eyelids.

Severus opened his eyes again. He was still in the boathouse, still sitting against the wall where he had slipped. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the jet of green magic fly past Nagini's head before it ended. Voldemort stared at Severus in disbelief, his mouth gaping. Nagini lunged forward, and bounced off again! This time, she made no further attempt. Instead, she slithered over to her master and coiled up next to his feet.

“You have betrayed … me –!” the dark lord snarled.

“ – You lost my allegiance the day you murdered Lily Evans!” Severus heard himself retort. It was a snarl which ended in a sob. His brains were trying to work out how he came to still be alive. The swastika! It had to be the swastika.

“You betrayed me to Dumbledore! That fool!” Voldemort continued, enraged and furious.

“You murdered the only person whom I've ever loved” Severus shouted, pointing his wand at Voldemort. He couldn't keep his hand from shaking. This was the moment he'd never dared to dream for, and here he was. Right in the middle of it.

“Why is it that you're able to resist the killing curse?!” Voldemort snarled. His anger was only matched by Nagini's hissing. “Only demons can resist the killing curse!” he continued. Then came realisation. “The Malfoy eduaimon …! How long have you been his servant?!”

“Long enough, it would seem, since he found it prudent to protect me from you.” Severus watched as the words seeped into Voldemort's mind. Then the dark lord Disapparated with a snarl, along with his snake. Severus shut his eyes, let his hand and wand fall to the ground before he rested his head against the window. He exhaled for a very, very long time.

Draco Malfoy seemed to be the only one who was not affected by the gruesome, grinding omni-voice of Voldemort. Just as every body cringed in pain of having the dark lord's voice in their heads, the Malfoy eudaimon appeared in their midst. Malfoy made a courteous bow with his head, showing his master the proper respect. A part from that, he seemed fearless to be standing in the eudaimon's commanding presence.

“Change of plan” Melchior said, overlooking the congregation of red-headed Weasleys, though he was speaking to Malfoy.

“You're to go to the house of Wilhelmina Marie Goldenbar, and save her.”

“From what?”

“Her death.”

“And the Weasleys? And Brown?”

“It's over” Melchior said, reassuringly. Fate would leave them alone. Draco had no further questions. Saving individuals had been a part of his training. It was one of the things he did best. And it felt so much better to save someone's life instead of taking it. He Disapparated just in time. A few seconds later, Harry and Ron walked in through the door. They flanked professor Severus Snape, and behind them came Hermione. She was looking exhausted, with dirt on her face and tears in the fabric of her clothes. When he saw her, Melchior turned to the Weasley twins with a disturbed look on his face and said: “Malfoy was never here, understand?”

Draco Malfoy moved through the thicket. He stopped where the heavy shadows of the trees still shrouded parts of the lawn. He looked up towards the large house. It was almost a mansion, richly adorned with Doric columns and friezes. The little he knew about the wizard family was that they apparently descended from Greece, but Draco paid this little notice. The Goldenbars were infamous for their riches, for their love of art and relics from Ancient Greece. They had been Gryffindors since the dawn of time, and their unbroken line of pure-blood descendants was equally old. They had never been a particularly large family, they never meddled with politics and generally lived large, spending their vacations on the French Riviera. There was always some article in the Daily Prophet during the summer, about the Goldenbars and where they were enjoying their summer holiday. Draco remembered an article he'd read once, in which Gilderoy Lockhart claimed kinship with the family. Those were the days when he'd still been sane. Before Hogwarts. Draco shoved the thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. He needed a way in without being caught. But the front door was wide open. Closing in, he could hear screams. He decided to fly forward, Apparating directly into the sitting room. As he materialised, he stumbled on something and fell backwards rather inelegantly. It was the body of a dead man whose eyes stared wide and empty into the ceiling. Out of nowhere lunged none other than a great snake, and Draco was just in time to cast Stupefy. The snake hissed and cringed, retreating momentarily. Draco had to look twice. It was Nagini.

Draco got up on his feet, still shocked to see the familiar snake. If she was here, then her master wasn't far. There was a thump sound from the first floor as something heavy fell down. Kind of like when a human body fell. Draco aimed his wand at the snake and shouted 'Reducto'. The snake took a direct hit, reeled and retreated beneath the sitting room table. There was no time to lose. Draco ran upstairs. His knees nearly buckled beneath him as he saw a familiar person standing in the doorway of the room down the hall. He was standing over a dead woman. Lord Voldemort turned on his heel as he heard Draco, spun and swung his wand. Draco felt Melchior's mind in the back of his head setting off foresight, giving Draco the extra edge he needed. He swung his arm, aimed with his wand and flicked it. The wand in Voldemort's hand flew out of his fingers and to Draco's empty hand. For a moment, Draco stood perplexed, wondering how he'd done that. He had disarmed Voldemort. On impulse, he directed both wands at the dark lord. There were frantic wails coming from the nursery. Lord Voldemort was positively growling.

It was a big house with a fairly large hallway at the first floor. On either side were doors. This narrow space was not made to contain the atmosphere which was currently packed with the dark magic of the dark lord at present and the dark lord to be. It was explosive, thick as butter, and therefore Voldemort needed no wand to elope. A loud POP, and he and the snake left. The last thing Draco saw of him, was his dark expression of face and the words he hissed out.

“When I'm done with Potter, you're next! There's only one dark lord, and that's Voldemort!”

Draco strode into the nursery. There, he fell in love all over again.
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Dark Lord Rising