Abused Massacre

Chapter 23 The Mark

He urgently rapped on the large wooden door. Hearing permission granted to enter he swiftly opened the door and rushed into the circular room.
“Ahhh, Mr. Malfoy, what do I owe this pleasure?” Dumbledore asked.
“Professor, I’ve just come from a meeting with my mother. My father is alive.” He nearly yelled loosing all composure. Dumbledore stood from his seat and pressed his long fingers against the birch wood desk. “He wants my mother and me to be double agents for the Dark Lord. His death was staged and my father infected my dreams to make it appear as Liaisonity. My mother was informed that my father had not been killed when she went to go visit her sister during the holiday. My Aunt was involved in the plot as well. After, my mother was commissioned to fool you and appear to want to fight against the Dark Lord. With my father hiding with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, everyone assumed that he really was dead.” He rushed to say. The words spewed out of him like verbal diarrhea. As soon as he finished a girl came bursting into the room.
“Professor! You have to know something! Draco isn’t going to betray me, but his mother will…” Hermione yelled through labored breaths.
“Miss. Granger…” he interrupted.
“No! After you told me to talk to Strats I went down and she told me that he was true to me…” she continued as her distress level intensified.
“Miss Granger…” he said a little louder.
“And she told me that Draco would be the victim of the betrayal and distrust…”
“Miss Granger, that is enough.” He said more sternly. “Mr. Malfoy has informed me of what is happening presently. You are welcome to join us.” He said more calmly. She looked around and spotted the young man sitting in a large arm chair. Rushing over she threw herself at him and embraced him tightly.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you!” She sobbed into his shoulder. Though confused at her confessed distrust, he consoled the weeping girl tenderly. Once calm both adolescents resided in large arm chairs and each relayed their story of distrust and betrayal. As they proceeded to leave, he stopped and told the girl to go down with out him. She looked at him curiously but went down the stone steps.

Hand in hand the couple walked slowly to their common room.
“So what is this distrust?” Draco asked.
“Well, that day that you told me that Dumbledore wanted to see me I went up to talk to him. When I got there he told me of how only two people have ever talked to Strats the squid.”
“Wait, you talked to that giant piece of seafood?”
“Yes, and she is very nice. Anyways, Dumbledore told me that she is very good at reading the stars and can tell the future from looking at them. I guess he had gone down to see her and she told him that you would betray me, or so he thought. But when I went down there to talk to her she said that you would be the one who would be betrayed. Not believing her, I followed you to the Shrieking Shack. I thought that maybe you were meeting another girl there or something… I almost wish you did. What’s going to happen now with your father? Do you have any plans?” She asked. He shook his head slowly. Stepping through the portrait hole, he went to draw a bath. Wanting to meditate in his thoughts he silently went to his room to disrobe. Sensing his desire for solitude Hermione did not join him in the now lukewarm water.
Resting his head on the edge of the tub, he closed his eyes and replayed the events of the day in his head. Chills ran over his body as he saw his father step into the light. The sneer and disgusted look on his face made him feel like vermin. How could he be related to such a vile human being? Opening his eyes, he lifted his right arm out of the sudsy water. Looking down, he viewed the large burn of the Dark Lord. He was being deployed as a slave for a murderer. Prodding it gently he winced at its tenderness. Never had he known that a Death Eater was prohibited to draft a newcomer as his father had done a mere two hours past.
Dragging himself out of the icy water he dressed and made his way to Hermione’s room. Flinging himself on her bed he inhaled the sweet scent on her pillow.
“Granger.”
“Malfoy.”
“I love you.”
“I know you do.” She replied.
“Do you love me too?” He asked as she crawled onto the large bed.
“Yes, you know I do.” She said as she nuzzled her head into his neck.
“Then if I show you something you won’t flip out?”
“I don’t know. Show me and I’ll tell you.” She said with a smirk. Heaving a heavy sigh he slowly lifted his shirtsleeve and turned his arm. Her eyes widened with horror. “Oh Malfoy! How did it happen?” she asked as she gently touched his burn.
“My father.” Was all he said. Looking at her he flopped backwards on the bed. “I talked to Dumbledore. He said that I could be like Snape and be a double agent. No doubt that is what my mother is doing.”
“But Malfoy, with your father alive, do you still have incentive to fight against Voldemort?” She asked. He cringed at the sound of the name.
“Yes. I hate him as much now as I did when I thought that my father was dead. He’s destroyed my family and now I want to reciprocate.” He said flatly. His face felt like marble. Conjuring a brown leather strap, he fastened the accessory around his forearm tightly. Pushing his hair out of his eyes he grabbed Hermione and dragged her down on the bed. “We are going to destroy that bastard.” He grumbled to himself as he pulled the heavy covers over their tired bodies.
Kissing Hermione’s bare back, he glided his fingers over her smooth skin. Brushing her hair off of her back, he let his lips glide over the curve of her shoulder blades. Lacing her fingers with his, he brought her fingertips to his mouth and lightly kissed them. Releasing her feelers, he gently grazed the length of her body with his rough paws.
Rolling over, she lifted her hand to brush a stray hair away from his eyes. Being with her was like being cast in a spell of dreams. Leaning towards her, he took her pink lips with his. Pulling her closer to him, he pressed his hand at the niche in her neck. Her scent tantalized his senses. Becoming aroused, he bombarded her mouth with his tongue and sought out hers. Gliding his hand to the small of her back he felt her shiver as he rolled a top her slender body. Moving his focus to her neck, he inhaled the sweet smell of her skin.
“Do you remember the first time we were like this on the train?” he inquired. She giggled.
“Yes I do.”
“You weren’t so accommodating then, now were you? I had to work for any pleasure that I got that day. But like always, I got my way.”
“I beg to differ. I remember you getting slapped more than once that night.” She retorted with a small smile and peck on the nose.
“Uh, huh, but I won in the end, did I not?” he said with a confident smirk.
“Yes, sir, I believe that you did but if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face I’ll knock it off.” she replied with a grin.
Curving his body towards her, he ravaged her mouth with his. Embracing her tightly he rocked her back and forth as he pressed himself on her through their minimal clothing. Groaning with frustration, he stripped her of her scanty clothing and took her with a passionate force. She raked her finger though his hair as she climaxed and screamed his name in ecstasy. Reaching the pinnacle of sensation, he burst within her cavity. Kissing her feverishly, he rolled off of her exhausted.
“Malfoy” she huffed.
“Yeah?” He asked as he kissed her shoulder.
“I love you too.”

The next morning he woke with a start. Pain seared through his right arm. The burning blinded him with unspilled tears. Beads of sweat appeared on his creamy white skin as he fumbled with the buckle of the strap. Pale as a ghost he struggled to release himself of the binding band.
“When your master wishes to speak to you he will touch his mark to signal his desire to converse with you. You will feel it.” his father had said.
“But how will I get there without being caught?” he asked.
“You will write to him and give it to your owl. Do Not address the letter to the Lord. Do you understand me? If need be, you will label it to come to your mother but tell your owl otherwise.”
“Yes, sir. What if the letter is intercepted?”
“I’m getting there you idiot boy. The Dark Lord has given you an enchanted quill who’s ink can only be seen by the sender and its recipient. You will correspond with our master through that. If anyone questions you, you are to say that your aunt is ill and that you are frequently inquiring of her health.” His father had elaborated.
Blinking back tears, he had finally liberated his arm from its constricting cuff. Staring down, his mark was a dark ink color. Feeling the burning recede as he looked intensely at the mark he thought of what to do. Should I go straight to Dumbledore? Maybe I should see what he wants first. Carefully climbing off the bed as to not wake Hermione, he retrieve a piece of parchment an the quill.

Yes my Lord? You beckoned me?

Looking out the window, his faithful owl was already at the sill as if he were given a mark as well.
“To the Dark Lord.” He whispered to the bird. He watched as it swooped out into the cold morning air.


A/N: Thank you guys soooo much for reviewing! I hope you guys like this one too.