Passed Around Dark Lords

51

"Well, what do we have here?" Draco felt his body freeze in place as he heard Tom's voice cascade over him. Frustration warred with his internal instinct, the latter eventually fighting everything else out, and he backed away from the Black heir. I don't know what I was thinking! He chastised himself. Honestly, he had no idea where all these annoying impulses were coming from. First Grindelwald, now I am out submitted dueling proposals to those who would effortlessly kill me? Where the hell is my self preservation? Because I had thought my agreement with Grindelwald was an effort of that, but it is obvious now that I am just...Draco cut off that thought immediately, flinching outwardly as he got so close to saying...it.

Tom almost winced, but he was far better a person, much less a wizard, than to do something so obvious as his mind was once more assaulted by Draco's memories. A part of him was salvating for it. It had been quite some time since he had caught a glimpse into Draco's mind...well, sort of. Granted it was only this morning in Transfiguration when he panicked and Tom got glimpsed after the whole Dumbledore fiasco, but those were shadows. Figures not quite seen. Emotional feeling, not really any clear cut picture.

"The blacks are not well known for their sanity, are they Draco?"

"No, My Lord," The words were hushed, and the boy was trembling before his master.

"I cannot quite imagine that Bellatrix's methods of teaching are, therefore, any use to you...after all, those who lack sanity are hardpressed to make good educators."

"I am making do quite well, My Lord, if that is your worry."

"Oh I am aware," Red eyes struck icy grey. "In fact, Bellatrix has informed me that she has had to train you very little, in fact, and that you seem to have been quite a natural, or previously taught..."

"None...Nobody, taught me, My Lord, not until you ordered it to be done. Father never thought it necessary, and..."

"That is quite alright, Draco, I do not need an expose." The words were harsh, sharp, and illiceted the coveted wince from their barbed edges as they dug through.

"Yes, My Lord." Pale fingers gripped an even paler wand.

"Bellatrix has told me, that you seem to be almost as good at Occlumency as Regulus." Draco stayed silent, nerves tingling. "Of course, they all taught themselves. Since you are leaving soon, I felt perhaps it is prudent to test your defenses myself. After all, they will need to withstand Dumbledore..."

The scene was interesting. Tom had no idea who Bellatrix was, nor Regulus, but he was definitely the one speaking. It was clear that this Bellatrix was a member of the Black family, further down the line. He was unsure if the Regulus character was as well, but he was willing to stake a hefty bet on it that he was. Tom's inability to see anything but specific attributes was interesting. He had still seen nothing of his future self other than eyes, and now fingers. It also told Tom exactly what it was Draco was focusing on so heavily. It was almost always eyes or fingers.

"Your training has been quite good, but it was as I feared." Draco was shivering, hair sopping wet from strain as he had tried-and failed-to keep his Lord from his mind yet again for the infinite time in just as many hours. "You are not strong enough yet. Strong, yes, but not enough. You will return here tomorrow, at this same time, and I shall train you myself. Bellatrix is simply too far gone to be of use in this task, I fear."

-

"You are not going!"

"Why not?" Draco's eyes were bright, and glazed. Narcissa was staring at him, and was as close to nail biting as a pureblood could ever get with her fingers just slightly closer to her mouth than was proper. "Why? Because once again you refuse to allow it? What is with you and..." A loud smack was heard, and Narcissa flinched violently, while Draco's emotions fled from him almost immediately, fallen onto the floor as he did not even bother to get back up.

"You will not act like this! There are already enough crazy people in this family, I will not tolerate any more!" Lucius' words were loud, and reverberating.

-

"Baby Draco!" A woman with long, tangled, and practically dead black hair, twisted from wand twirls entwining through strands, came rushing towards Draco. A warning look from his mother had him standing still, a hesitant returned embrace, even as he was trembling. "It has been so long...so long..." The woman laughed, a sharp and cutting thing.

-

Draco felt himself forced into the present once more as his left arm flared in burning, stabbing pain. He shrieked, trying to yank his arm towards himself, only to fail miserably. He felt his body tugged forwards, and pinned down, a voice murmured into the room, but he was too out of it to hear what they were saying. He screamed as the pain began to get worse, and worse, the longer the fingers were pressing on his mark. Tears streamed down his face and he felt his cheeks getting red and blotchy. His father would be absolutely horrified if he saw him right now. In fact, had Draco been able to think clearly, he would have been able to tell himself that he would be horrified at the state of himself. As it were, pain was the only thing he could think about, and it was blinding.

Finally, the fingers took themselves away from the black ink, and Draco yanked his arm to his chest, curling over it, trying to protect it, as if that would do anything to stop Tom. Tom was staring at him, impassively...and it shook him, trembling as he tried to scramble to safety, away from Tom, only to be yanked into a forced hug. Draco felt as if his world was collapsing in around him, and he could not help but heave air, as desperate as it made him seem.