Passed Around Dark Lords

16

Draco was not really aware of just how his situation was until he had been promptly dragged all through London to the Leaky Couldron, that...bartender was still there. Or should Draco say, he was here even during the late 90s, considering Draco was stuck in the late mid 1900s. How...crazy to think of. Draco quickly shoved those thoughts away from him as Tom gripped his wrist and with no regard to him, yanked him forwards, leaving Draco rushing to catch up to the other. In his mind, he cursed himself yet again. Really the Dark Lord could not have possibly made me act so horribly different...right? He thought to himself, trying to convince himself. Yet he knew the truth. His time with the Dark Lord had truly fucked his body, brain, and habits. His Father being the coward that he was did not surprise Draco, but his disregard for his son's safety when being left alone in a house with a psychotic maniac? that was definitely a new low. It did not matter anyways. It was too late to change anything. Got some ptsd, clearly, but there is no way I could even go see anyone for something like this. I will just have to be careful. We definitely do not want a repeat of this morning again for the next...forseeable future. He felt his fingers begin to trace the bite on his neck, before he shoved his hand down, angry at himself.

"You are getting me a scarf," Draco muttered under his breath.

"I am getting you most of your things, as a matter of fact," Tom stated carelessly. Draco stared at him, blinking idly, as though he could not understand what was being said. Tom rolled his eyes. "You are going to be in my house. Beyond that, you are mine..." Draco did not really like the tone that Tom took when saying that, and couldn't help but shudder a bit, trying in vain to pull his arm away from the wizard. "Anyways," This was said louder, as though attempting to drown out the sentence before, but it was far too late. Draco had already heard it. Isn't it a bit early to be getting obsessive? Draco thought slightly hysterical to himself. I am truly beginning to understand why they did not want be to choose Wools, but it is too late, I can't very well do anything about it. Perhaps once I get to Hogwarts, he will let go of this...oddly possessive tone to him and his clearly obsessive nature. Though Draco also knew that he could not hold out hope for this. He had a quite...deep understanding about how awful obsessions could get. Take the Dark Lord for instance. His obsessions just slowly got worse until they took over everything he was. Even when he was alive, the few years that Draco had spent with the Dark Lord he had gotten slowly more and more obsessed with him and his father, and that was just...nerve wracking to even think of. He did not want to repeat something like that. He knew it was dangerous, but he also knew trying to just break such a tenuous thing could come back to bite him in the ass, particularly since he was stuck with Tom as a house prefect. He could not really afford to anger Tom, at least not yet. "You do not need to worry too much about how I will pay for things. I have had a steady stream of Wizarding money coming in since 1st year."

"Impressive," Draco managed to breathlessly bite out, trying not to show his panic. By the glint of Tom's teeth, he definitely failed. I really need to get the hang of myself. He isn't the Dark Lord, hell he may be psychotic, but I have had my own experiences with madmen, he is not anymore dangerous than the lot of them. I have to stop getting so wrong footed about him. It is ridiculous, and meaningless. It bodes no good will for me, and I need to keep my head straight with what is going on. "I will repay you...Eventually." Draco muttered the last part.

"There is no need for that," Tom stated, speeding up so that Draco once more was having to slightly jog to keep from falling behind. "After all I would not have suggested such a thing if I did not think it would benefit me one way or another. I do not need money." Draco felt a bit wary at that. He felt anxiety curve through his feet to his head.

"Then what is it that you do want?"

"You." Tom stated, his eyes darkening, leaving Draco trying to once more tug himself from Tom's grip. It was useless, he knew, but he really did not like the sound of that at all. it sounded...It sounded so much like...like... "Calm down. You are definitely not ready for that. Not yet, anyways." Tom clarified, leaving Draco to almost drop to the floor in relief, of a sort. It was not what he wanted to hear, but it was better than the alternatives. He felt cursed tears begin to sting his eyes. "I mean you are smart, and obviously powerful. You are a good ally, and I want to keep you before someone else tries to take you."

"W..."

"Now," Tom continued as though he had not said something horrible and then pretended it was almost nothing.

"I technically have to report to Grindelwald." Draco hastily continued not wanting Tom to get the wrong idea. Tom turned back towards him, lifting an eyebrow.

"And? You were dropped off by one of his people. Please, you probably were found by them and then housed, and then in order to make it back to London you had to cut the wizard a deal, am I wrong?"

"Well...no, but..."

"What was the deal." Tom continued, bulldozing over Draco as though he had not spoken at all. Draco felt a flash of annoyance, that was gone almost as soon as it was there. He did not have the energy for anger at the moment.

"I have to report on Dumbledore's allies."

"Easy, then," Tom said with a shrug. "I can help you there." Draco narrowed his eyes...gazing untrusting at the Slytherin Prefect.

"And why would you do that?"

"Come, now, Draco, don't be like this. It is tiresome. We must get to gringotts, much to be done, after all." He said, brushing off the question. It definitely left a bad taste in Draco's mouth.