Drarry Oneshots

Reunited

Posted: December 26, 2020
AO3 Rating: Mature
[This one is a bit dark, but ends on a hopeful note. Trigger Warnings for rape and pedophilia. Not explicit, but implied and discussed in the past-tense.]

Draco held his breath as the door opened and Voldemort entered the dining room. All eyes turned to their master, with a few nervous glances at the enormous snake that slithered in after him.

"My Lord—" his father started, but he cut himself off with a strangled sound when Voldemort raised a hand.

Draco stood alone in front of the fireplace, while the rest of the Inner Circle sat at the table.

Voldemort stopped directly in front of him, his red-eyed gaze lingering on Draco's face, while his snake stopped near Narcissa Malfoy's chair, a none-to-subtle threat that made Draco's stomach turn. He had to do this. For Mother. She stiffened slightly, but otherwise did not react to the proximity of the reptile as it coiled around her chair.

Nervous under that cold stare, Draco's eyes flicked to his godfather, whose face was also completely impassive. He nodded imperceptibly, black eyes communicating as best they could: Use your Occlumency training, Draco. You can do this.

"Draco," the foreboding man in front of him spoke softly, his velvety smooth voice inconsistent with the hardness of his gaze, "look at me, please."

Long white fingers were placed on his shoulders, and Draco forcibly repressed a shudder.

Draco met his gaze, allowing Voldemort to peer into his mind, seemingly freely, but with several large omissions. That was the key, Severus had said— "Let him see into your mind without fighting, only block the important things, and he won't realize that you're using Occlumency at all."

After what felt like hours, Voldemort made a pleased sound. "Very good, Draco. I believe you are ready."

Draco lowered his gaze and spoke clearly and respectfully. "I am, my lord."

Harry will never forgive me for this.

"Extend your left arm, boy."

Draco did, and Voldemort's fingers circled his wrist. The other hand came up to stroke a finger over his forearm. "Such lovely pale skin you Malfoy's have," he commented, eliciting dark chuckles from some of the members of the circle. "I'm looking forward to marking yours." These words were accompanied by a leer, and Draco shivered.

"Oh, don't be nervous, young one, it only hurts for a moment." Another double entendre, and the snakelike man deliberately raked his eyes over Draco's body.

Draco stood still, swallowing nervously, his eyes dropping to the floor again, unable to bring himself to respond.

Without warning, Voldemort spoke the words of the spell and pressed his wand to Draco's arm. The burning sensation was excruciating, and Draco's vision blurred as he screamed in agony. He dropped to his knees, clutching his arm, whimpering pitifully until the pain slowly eased.

A sob escaped his mother's lips, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh Narcissa, don't fret, your son is fine— Look at him."

Draco stood shakily, eyes wet with unshed tears, staring at his new tattoo. His brand. It glowed brightly for a moment, then settled into the ugly black mark that Draco had seen on his father's arm for years. He loathed it already.

"You're mine now, Draco," Voldemort said softly. He trailed a finger down the side of his cheek and smiled cruelly. "Mine."

Draco forced himself to keep an impassive expression on his face even as he fought down the urge to vomit.