Dark Lord's Pet

Draco's Wish

Harry

Harry watched apathetically as the meeting began. There were more Death Eaters than had been in the graveyard, perhaps 55-60 of them, and each had crawled up the steps to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes before arranging themselves in some sort of order before Voldemort.

It was with an emotionless gaze than he surveyed them, even whilst seeing his professor and fellow student arrive, he didn't so much as bat an eye. He was a bit disappointed, it appeared that the Dark Lord wished to lord his victory over Harry while he was still alive, and that meant he would be forced to go on existing for a while longer.

What if someone tried to hurt Harry again? Images of his uncles flashed in his mind, and a shiver ran over his body, covering him with goosebumps. He figured it was thanks to the soft pajamas that he didn't go catatonic from the memories of pain, after all, they proved he was out of there. His relatives would never have let him have such comfortable clothing.

Making his first movement since the Death Eaters had arrived, he sat up, uncomfortable with how tight the leash was, and pressed himself into the bars beside the Dark Lord so the slightest bit of slack could be felt. He put his furry legs up to his chest and tucked his chin over them, gazing instead of at the crowd to the tall, white person, with eyes that flashed homicidal crimson and magic that practically crackled from his skin.

The sight comforted him, knowing he was with the one who would kill him soon, and he let his eyes droop contentedly shut.

"My Death Eaters," Voldemort said, breaking the silence that had been impenetrable a mere moment before, "Today, we are here to welcome a new apprentice into our midst. Draco Malfoy, come forward."

Harry slit his eyes open to dully watch as the blond, the boy who'd tormented him through his school years (which he now wished had resulted in his death so he'd not have had to suffer at his relatives' hands) came towards the steps of the dais. He looked scared, grey eyes wide and unblinking. They flicked over to him for a second, and Harry blinked once before turning his attention back to the man he hoped of gaining his freedom from.

Voldemort would give him peace. He would give him death.

Harry watched the tall, pale-skinned man with slitted nostrils and intense eyes as he addressed the young Malfoy.

"Why do you seek to join my ranks?"

Draco's adams apple bobbed. He was a young man, a bit of baby fat still in his cheeks, but Harry could see the shadow of the adult he would become.

"I only wish to serve you, My Lord," he said, bowing low to a ninety degree angle.

Harry frowned at this. Why would he lie? Something in Draco's body language hinted that this was not the truth

"Lies," the Dark Lord hissed, voice dangerous, eyes flashing. A frisson of fear and comfort raced down Harry's spine at the contained power in the voice. He only wished it were directed at him, that it were his death being plotted. 

"Crucio!" came the spell from the lips of the man.

The Malfoy boy's knees buckled beneath him, and he writhed on the floor, trained well enough not to scream, but not strong enough to stay on his feet. Yet. Harry had no doubt that after long enough in Voldemort's service the boy would be better trained.

"Tell me the truth," the red-eyed man said, piercing the boy, fifteen years old, with his glare.

"I- I want to kill Dumbledore," the boy said, body curled in on itself, voice trembling.

Harry sat up in interest for the first time since. . . well, he hadn't really been interested in anything since the revelation that Hogwarts was not truly his home. His green eyes fixed on the child sprawled before him. He may not wish to be alive anymore, but he did wish Dumbledore dead.