Lord Voldemort is a well-known alpha, famous because of his lust for power. Draco Malfoy, the son of one of the Dark Lord's followers: Lucius, is an omega. The Malfoy Lord, ashamed of a Omega son, has done everything in his power to keep his son's s...
Previously on When The Devil Falls - Draco's sleepless night was filled with a sense of foreboding, his mind plagued by the memory of the youngest Weasley's threat. With Nico nestled in his arms, he sat in the dimly lit room, his senses alert for any sign of danger. Every creak of the floorboards and every whisper of the wind outside sent a shiver down his spine, amplifying his anxiety.
As the days passed, the Order's cruelty only intensified. They denied Draco food, leaving him weak and famished, his stomach gnawing with hunger. Their beatings were merciless, each blow landing with bone-crushing force, leaving bruises and welts in their wake. The Crucio curse was a weapon they wielded with sadistic delight, sending waves of agonizing pain coursing through Draco's body, leaving him trembling and gasping for breath.
But perhaps the most insidious form of torture was the relentless humiliation heaped upon him. They stripped him of his dignity, reducing him to nothing more than a pawn in their twisted game. They taunted him with cruel words and mocking laughter, their eyes gleaming with malice as they revelled in his suffering.
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The dimly lit room cast long shadows across the walls as Mad-Eye Moody stood over Draco, his magical eye spinning madly as he interrogated the young wizard. Draco sat bound to the chair, his hands tied tightly behind his back, his legs secured to the legs of the chair. His eyes held a steely resolve as he met Moody's gaze, refusing to show any sign of fear.
Moody's voice was like gravel as he barked out his questions, each word laced with menace. "What are his plans?"
Draco remained silent, his jaw clenched tight as he stared defiantly at Moody. He knew the consequences of divulging such information—death, not just for himself, but for his son as well. He would protect Nico at all costs, even if it meant enduring the tortures inflicted upon him.
With a snarl of frustration, Moody lashed out, delivering a brutal slap across Draco's face. The force of the blow sent Draco's head snapping to the side, a sharp pain flaring through his cheek. But still, he refused to speak, his lips pressed together in a thin line.
Enraged by Draco's defiance, Moody lunged forward, his hands grasping Draco's shoulders as he slammed the blonde's head down onto the table with a sickening thud. Draco's vision swam with stars as pain exploded behind his eyes, the metallic tang of blood filling his nostrils.
"You think you can defy me, boy?" Moody growled, his voice dripping with malice. "You think you can keep your precious secrets hidden? We'll see about that."
With a sadistic grin, Moody unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, each blow landing with bone-crushing force. Draco gritted his teeth against the pain, refusing to cry out, refusing to give his tormentor the satisfaction of hearing him beg for mercy.
