Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord

A/N: I extend my thanks to all of you who have reviewed and I apologize for being late in this addition. In life, we have little setbacks. I am no exception.
This chapter segways back toward the story line, a little. With this I aimed back toward Hogwarts, soon to be prevalent.

Chapter Four: Options


Oliver had been moved from a cell and was now on hands and knees atop a table, his legs spread and his ass open for use.
It had been days since his capture and he couldn’t count them as they swam in his mind, all similar and each just as terrible as the last.
His entire body hurt from the combinations of abuse as well as the daily scrubbing by the two relentless subservients and the poor sleep he got in the bare cell.
He began to wish for the release of death as his next session of torture and rape began.
Voldemort was absent as the other death eaters gathered around, but after only five had taken Oliver, the Dark Lord arrived and all activity stopped.
“Take this one to the showers and clean him well. I have other plans for him.” Voldemort said waving an arm in Oliver’s direction.
The former Gryffindor noted the finality of the statement and he was certain this would be his last day. He all but sighed in relief.
After a thorough scrubbing, that again darkened his bruises and opened old wounds, the two men doused him with the chemical smelling liquid and left him alone.
Oliver heard them talking about the other two boys as they left and he felt sorry for them, but his life was his main concern at present.
He stood there dripping into the drain for over five minutes before the door opened and Voldemort came in.
Oliver cringed as the Dark Lord held his chin in his hand and turned his face to the right and left.
“They will miss you here, boy. But perhaps you will choose to stay, hmm?” The Dark Lord said as he turned away and crossed the room. On a bench near the wall there was a pile of clean towels, a stack of clothes, complete with a pair of boots and a black cloak hung from the wall. Voldemort took a towel off the pile and brought it over, wiping at the water that dripped from Oliver’s body with gentle strokes. “I wish to offer you a chance at another life, boy. You will have to be more than just brave, it will require a touch of deviousness and some amounts of deception. Can you manage these Slytherin traits, Gryffindor?” he asked, by now reaching his prey's back and drying the mounds of Oliver’s ass.
“Eradicus!” the Dark lord chanted and Oliver felt as if a hard brush had scoured out his rectum, brutally scratching it clean. “Bend over and hold your knees.” The older man added as he shoved a different toy in and it molded to Oliver’s insides. “Now, stand and turn and I will tell you my offer. I want you to become the son of Lucius Malfoy. I will give you a potion that will make you look like the boy and they will be told that your mind is suffering from shock. You will have to play the part and be very believable or Lucius will surely torture and kill you. If you decline this, I will send you back to your waiting admirers and you will not even be allowed a break for sleep.”
Oliver was shocked but not too far gone to find the words to form a question. “Why do you want me to do this?”
“That is my business. Yours is to stay alive and please me. What is your answer boy?”
“I’ll do it.” Oliver said, thrilled at the chance of escape.
“It isn’t that easy,” Voldemort said raising his wand, one flick and the tube embedded in Oliver’s penis began to work its way loose. “While we do this, please me one last time boy.” Voldemort said pushing Oliver down to his knees.
The Gryffindor took the Dark Lord’s cock and sucked it into his mouth, waiting to see what the man wanted. The steady warm stream of urine was his answer and he swallowed the bitter sweet liquid readily.
His hands rose and held the moving bulge at the man’s middle, rubbing in the way he had learned Voldemort enjoyed.
When the man finished, he pet the boy's head, cooing softly. “You see. You are a good little slut. Now, use your tongue. Give me the pleasure I want.”
Oliver rolled his tongue around the ridge, coaxing the lax organ to a firmness that would soon be torturing his throat again. He could do this, once more, if it meant freedom. By the time the tube had worked free and Oliver could feel his internal muscles working to hold back his flow once more, Voldemort was rock hard and thrusting deep. Soon after, he was adding his semen to the urine in Oliver’s stomach.
“Good boy, my little Gryffindor slut. Very well done. Now, one last thing to drink. Open your mouth.” and the Dark Lord lifted a vial and poured the contents into Oliver’s mouth.
It tasted like old tire, dipped in battery acid, and after all he’d been through it tore into his throat like a set of knives.
He gagged a little but the Dark Lord was holding him up, keeping the liquid in his mouth as he continued to empty the vial.
Finally, the container was empty and so was Oliver’s mouth. And then the pain began.
His muscles stretched and his insides wrenched, rebuilding him into another shape with different features and a leaner frame.
He could feel his hair grow and his legs cramped as they thinned out and tapered.
Then, it was over.
Oliver looked down at himself and knew he was no longer the Scottish Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.
“You look perfect. Now, this is to keep you true to your agreement.” Voldemort said waving a wand that made the black tube twist around itself until it looked like an elaborate burned pretzel. The thing snapped toward him and captured his groin, wrapping around his balls and twisting up his cock, snugly but not too tight.
“If you do anything against me, right down to the smallest thing, this will happen.”
The coil tightened until Oliver was thrashing on the floor.
“Now,” Voldemort began and the coil loosened again. “You will follow these instructions. No one is to have you without my permission, not woman, man, girl or boy. And you will not waste what I have given you. Collect your wastes and drink them again. Never let one drop leave you for more than a few minutes. Eat only rare meats and raw vegetables and fruits. No sweets, milk products or alcohol. Do you understand?” the man asked and Oliver nodded. “Good. Then, get up and dress, Draco Malfoy. Your parents are waiting.”
The transformation had changed Oliver into the perfect representation of Draco, except that his bruises and cuts showed through, making him look like a very abused Malfoy. This didn’t bother Voldemort, as he delivered the boy to Lucius with a warning that more of the same awaited should he fail so miserably in the future.
The Dark Lord had told the man that his son was involved in a raid on a family in Scotland and after delivering a killing curse, he had been struck by a sense of guilt that had paralyzed him. It was up to his family to help him get over this and Voldemort had chuckled about their son feeling so bad he had begun to call himself by the dead boy’s name.
Oliver Wood.
Lucius had heard about the death of the Wood family, so had not questioned the Dark Lord further. He took his son home to the manor with his silent wife, Narcissa.


When the potion was near completion, the Dark Lord returned to the lab and checked it carefully. He smiled at Severus and placed a wooden case on the table nearby.
“When you have completed this, fill each bottle and bring them to me. Wormtail will return to clean this station, so you needn’t worry over that. And Severus, you may keep the parchment. I know this potion perfectly.”
Snape nodded as Voldemort checked another cauldron before leaving the room.
He had still been unable to locate Narcissa Malfoy and no matter how thrilled he was by the new potion, he felt trapped by the demands of its brewing.
He would be finished before dark, then he hoped to return to his search of the lower corridors.
If he’d had no luck, then he would go to Lucius and tell the man his news.
As the potion turned a soft beige color, he added three drops of eucalyptus extract and watched it bubble up.
He was now finished, so he opened the case and began dipping out the cream colored brew. Forty two bottles later, the box was full and the cauldron was empty. The door to the room creaked open.
Wormtail looked much less strained then the last time Severus had seen him, but the collar was still attached to his neck with a chain dangling down his chest.
“The master is in his sitting room,” the little man said as he lifted a rag and began to wipe at a spill. Severus lifted the case and left without speaking to the animagus.
Voldemort’s sitting room was near the throne room and consisted of three couches and a roaring fire. There were no tables, drapes, pictures or tapestries. The floors were bare wood and worn thin in places. The Dark Lord sat, or more like lounged, on one of the couches with his feet on another. He looked up when Severus entered.
“I have decided to forgive Lucius for his failure. Without his wand, he is currently worthless to me and I want to let his family return to repair their home. I have called all of the death eaters out of it and have them returning here.” he said without moving.
“That is very generous of you, My Lord.” Severus said.
“Is it? There is still the matter of their son and his failure, but you have made that easier to overlook.” Voldemort said and Snape cringed at the pointed reminder of Dumbledore’s death. “I have sent them home and by tomorrow they should be resettled. I do hope little Draco will be able to return to school in time for his NEWTS.”
“They are some time in the future, My Lord.” Severus said.
“Ah, but the boy is in no condition to return, as yet. A traumatic thing it is for some, the first time they kill.” and at this point the Dark Lord chuckled. “Put the case down, Severus. Then, go and enjoy the last of your break. There are two boys out there ready to please.”
“Two, My Lord?” Severus said after putting the case on the end of a sofa. “I thought you had acquired a third?”
“A sad thing. He was not able to adapt. We’ve had to put him down. That is how the Malfoy boy was so traumatized. It seems he knew the slut.” and having spoken, Voldemort waved Severus away.
Snape managed to control his reaction to the news of Oliver Wood’s demise until he was in the hall and away from view.
“Oh, Merlin. Draco, what did you do?” he said under his breath as he leaned against he wall. “How will I explain this to your mother?”


So, 'Draco' goes home and will return to school, and what of the Dark Lord's soon-to-be son?
Another Chapter comes on Monday.

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