Half-Dimension

My Lord

Draco hung behind Severus and Lucius as they entered the ever so painfully familiar shop. He hated this shop. He also loved this shop. Borgin and Burkes held just as many horrible memories as it held good ones. He could not say it was his favorite shop in Knockturn alley, but it was definitely not the lowest on his list. That was for sure.

Draco watched passively as Lucius rang that dingy bell, and waited idly for someone to come to the front. If it was Tom, that aided matters. If it was not, it would definitely complicate things. They had no idea if Tom was working today, merely hoped that he was and came in under the conclusion that he may be. They had no real knowledge of that, however. Lucky for them, it was a well dressed young man that walked stiffly to the counter, and not the old hunchback that made Draco cringe. He did not like Borgin. The old man was dumb at the best of times and suicidal at the worst. Then again, perhaps the Borgin in THIS time was a bit different.
Or maybe not. Draco could not find it in him to care. Not when he had set sights on Tom Riddle for the first time.

The boy was beautiful. It crossed his mind for a moment and Draco scoffed at himself for thinking he would be anything otherwise. The other was so...impressive. hair darker than the darkest night, eyes piercing the soul with their intensity, the lean form of the other leaning back on a chair watching them enter, just as Draco studied him. Well, more like totally checked him out but who would blame him? The man was literally a god amongst gods. Draco felt such beauty should not be hidden away from the world.

Lucius spoke to Tom softly, and with the older males preoccupied Draco found himself bored, as he always did. He sighed softly, quiet enough so that he would not interfere in the other's conversation and let his eyes roam. There were more interesting things in this universe's borgin and burke's. How unfair. Draco meandered through the various badly placed aisles, hand hovering over the deadly artifacts. A surprisingly morbid thought of what would happen to him if he touched them crossed his mind. Death was not something Draco was unaccustomed to, nor was it something he was scared or shied away from. How could it be?

Glancing over at Severus and Lucius, who still seemed to be in deep conversation with Tom, Draco began to regret the whole journey. He should have known that having those two meet a fellow classmate, a fellow Slytherin, to discuss revenge on something that happened to a slytherin was a bad idea. Now he was bored, with nothing to do but wander around and morbidly think of the various ways the artifacts here could cause his death. Simply dull.
Pausing over a strange artifact, Draco stopped. It was a necklace. At first glance, he would have mistake it for the one his aunt bella owned, but it was different. The chain was black, not silver, and the gems were onyx, not emerald. It held the same aura about it though. Draco hummed, adrenaline thrumming through him. He wanted to grab it. Glancing backwards, just to make sure that nobody was paying attention, Draco smirked. They were still deep in conversation. Turning back to the necklace, a sentence which had been embedded in his brain upon his first entrance to the shop suddenly rose to the fore of his mind.

The voice that he had grown to dread, the sound hissing as a dark look was gazed down upon him. "Don't touch anything, Draco." Draco grit his teeth as a sort of sick thrill gripped him, his rebellious streak stronger now. Hands, reaching out a dark glazed look in his eyes. Mere inches away from the disobedience he always craved to use. Rebellion etching its ways through his soul.

Soft skin encircled his own. Warm. Hot even. Draco himself ran cold, so it was no wonder whoever gripped him so suddenly caused Draco to feel as though he were being burned.
A light, barely audible, whine exited his mouth. Not that he would ever admit to such things. The warmth around his wrist was distracting in a way. Draco ground his teeth, annoyed. Why???
He tugged gently, expecting to be released, but the opposite happened. The fingers seemed to tighten minutely around his wrist, carefully, but firmly, holding him in place. A memory flashed through his mind.

Shock wound through him as Draco saw that blasted Potter. What was he doing here? Should he shout out? Call attention. Whatever his decision he had no time to do so as the familiar whistling air had him flinching, barely noticeable. Habitual. His eyes flared wide as he sw the metallic snake not centimeters from his face. He spun around.
"What. Did. I. Say.?" It was the tone which had Draco trembling. Fear coursed through him.
"Touch nothing," he spoke a bit softer. Almost whispering. It was not fair, he hadn't even touched the stupid thing. Why get angry?
"Exactly," Draco ground his teeth angrily. He hadn't touched it though. Swinging his cane at him. He hadn't even come close to touching the bloody cabinet.
"Sorry father," try as he might, he knew full well that the words were not as subservient as they should be. They were anything but that. Lucius knew it too, going by the raised eyebrow which Draco knew meant trouble, and the way he ground out his next words icily. "Come, Draco. We're leaving." Stupid commands. Even the way Lucius spoke it made it seem as though Draco where nothing more than some house pet. A dog, trained and disciplined. It irked him, but he knew better than to do anything as he followed his father out of the shop.

Yet, this also was nothing like that time either. Still, his breath was caught in his chest and he couldn't bare to look up and see who had grabbed him. If it was Lucius, he may just faint. If it was Severus, well, it would not be nearly so bad. It still had him shaking, he did not want to see.
He stiffened his body, forcing his muscles to stop their pathetic tremble, tensed every muscle within his body in the attempt. He felt two fingers, elegant from the look of the wrist (probably ?Lucius then. Draco knew his father's wrist better than he knew his own), tuck under the thin flesh of his chin. Draco closed his eyes, dread filling him. He had gotten to know this universe's Lucius, but who knows how angry the other was. There were similarities between the two, and Draco was horrified that perhaps their anger was one similarity that had not crossed over.
At first, Draco resisted the attempt to lift his chin, but with a growl of displeasure and an added bit of weight, Draco found his head being forced upwards easily.

Crystallized blue struck steely gray, and Draco froze. "Why were you about to touch the artifact?" Draco could not speak, his voice trapped somewhere where he could not access it. "I expect an answer..." Draco looked away as best he could.

"I just wanted to," Draco forced out.

"Really?" Draco closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry My Lord." He spoke softly, so soft it was almost incapable of being heard by human ears. The fingers on his chin stiffened and moved to grip the underside of his jaw.
"I...I was curious, my lord, it will not happen again. It was wrong of me to touch things without consent." Draco...in his panicked mind, was unaware of the fact that he was using his Voldermort's title. Yet, it was painfully obvious to this universe's Tom Riddle, who found he did not mind it all that much. A low chuckle exited from him unbidden.

"Mhm." Tom's free hand came up to card through the youth's hair.

"Good boy," Tom spoke quietly, feeling the boy relax.

"I-" the boy looked at Tom and Draco felt his blood run cold. He had called Tom 'my lord'. He had called this tom riddle by the title which the dark lord had ordered all to speak to him as. Fear flooded him. "I apologize, I did not mean to call you..."

"Shhhh," draco felt his throat freeze up as Tom gave to command. "It is nothing to worry about." He said quietly. The hand grabbing his jaw moved down to his neck, thumb running over the side of the limb in slow movements. "I find it rather...flattering." he said, eyes looking straight into Draco's own.