Passed Around Dark Lords

24

"Tell me, is there anything specific that draws them out?" Tom questioned, to which Draco just shrugged. He was not really sure. It was all some odd sense of disassociation and panic that tended to send him careening into past memories, which never went well because Draco did not have good past memories, and most of the memories he did have that were decent were mere manifestations of either his Father or the Dark Lord's manipulations. He had gotten better at seeing such things whilst he got older, but when he was younger it was impossible to notice and he fell for it almost every time. He had to admit, he still sometimes fell for the pretty words. It was because he was so weak, emotionally, and that was not a good thing. Both Father and the Dark Lord saw the weakness inside of me. Draco thought distantly to himself, and they both tried to stamp it out, though the Dark Lord was less obvious about it, but then again he was quite the sadistic bastard anyways...and it was not as though anyone could do anything against him. He was incredibly powerful. "No? Interesting...Well pain, at the very least, seems to work quite well in reigning you in." Tom stated with no sense of propriety. Draco stared at him, startled for a reason he could not explain. Tom had never quite shown care or any regard in caring about what was proper anyways, he could not possibly expect he would speak with any sense of it. He just...he did not know. There was something that seemed to be siphoning Draco, and whatever it was caused him to not be as...as sharp as he normally was.

Which was just a fancy way of saying he had some major trauma, and likely some large case of PTSD, in Tom's own opinions if he were to have heard Draco's thoughts aloud-though his eyes did quite a good job at conveying his thoughts when he was alone with Tom-that he did not thin that Tom should have spoken in such a way. It was not as though Tom cared anything for the Pureblood social manner. He never had, though he was good at imitating it. He behaved how it suited him, and when it did so, though there was definitely some...unique situations, such as with young Draco here. Though it was obvious that he was not fond of Tom speaking such blunt plainness about certain topics, he did not question him. Tom would chock that up to the trauma. He was not sure exactly what it was that Draco had suffered, but it did not take much to know that he had. The fact that he had started out at the Orphanage when Tom and him met was enough of a clue. He knew for most people, particularly older, the death or abandonment of their parents took a great toll on them, though Draco seemed less concerned about that and more concerned about...something else.

He was not quite sure what it was, after all Draco's Occlumency was quite impressive. Tom did not want to break through forcibly, though he knew he would be capable of it if he tried. That would merely breed a sense of resentment, and Tom did not want to make his little toy resent him yet. It was far too soon. There were small cracks though, and since Tom was so often tuned in towards Draco, he could catch glimpses, though there was little more. Flashes of green lights, screams, and pleas that sounded so delicious coming from Draco's mouth. He could only hope that soon enough he could get to hear those pleas formed in person rather than through glimpses of shadows. For now, Draco's obviously unbalanced mental state was fun to play with. Tom was having quite the delightful time, and his enjoyment was only getting deeper the more Draco attempted to push back. He knew, a part of Draco was dangerously rebelling against whatever it was that haunted his past, but he knew that there was more to what was going on than what any would understand.

He had seen the mark on Draco's arm, after all, and there would be no reason for there to be a mark on Draco's arm...when Tom barely had finished designing it himself this year. It worked exactly the way that he had intended it too, as well. Draco was quite young, but considering his own personal current fascination with the Malfoy boy, he would not hesitate to believe that his older self did not feel in a similar way to him and had gone ahead to mark him early. Perhaps those thoughts were about him...Tom did not know, though if they were that would make the revelation even more sweet. It was almost...laughable. Tom was manipulating an unstable mind that he himself had aided in creating. Though he could not give himself the whole credit here, he had seen the nightmares plaguing Draco's sleep, and only a portion of them had to do with an ominous figure, many of them had to do with long hair, and thin fingers upon a snake's cane. Tom would credit that was his father.