Title: By Any Other Name, Part 2 of 5
Words: 1340 this part, ~12,000 overall
Genre: Adventure, Slash, Darkfic
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Non-con, Torture, Major HBP Spoilers
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I am merely a hobbyist/tourist visiting J. K. Rowling’s world, for the love, not for the money.
By Any Other Name, Part 2 of 5
by Ravenna C. Tan
Next morning came a miserable breakfast, made worse by the argument that broke out among the Death Eaters over the fact that none of them had any skill with domestic charms whatsoever. Snape, at least, could make drinkable tea, something that Amycus proved unable to do. Two more Death Eaters had arrived during the night, so there were now six of them holed up in the house. Draco, the low man on the totem pole, was bullied into doing the dishes. He was up to his elbows in soapy water–he being no master of domestic charms himself–when Snape stood suddenly.
“What are you waiting for?” he said to the others, who were still seated, finishing their burned toast. He tugged up his sleeve to show the Dark Mark, the blackness of it deep and glowing, crawling like a living thing on his skin. They stared at him.
“It’s only you, Severus,” said the gravelly-voiced man who had come in during the night. He had bushy, wild eyebrows and to Draco he looked like he could have been part owl, or hawk. “Only you are called.”
Snape’s cheek twitched unreadably and he shot a brief glance at Draco before he Disapparated. Was that a glance of warning? Draco turned back to the sink.
“Yaxley,” Alecto drawled to the bushy-browed man, “Have you met the boy here, yet?” Draco flinched as she snapped, “Malfoy!”
“So this is Lucius’ son?” Yaxley inquired, as Draco reluctantly turned. “Quite a mess your father made of things, didn’t he, boy?”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Draco snapped, his lips tight. “Before my time.”
Alecto chuckled, low in her throat. She was a squat woman, and Draco could not guess her age. “I suppose you think you’d’ve done better? But I think we all know the truth.”
Her brother Amycus echoed her chuckle. “You Malfoys–always trouble. Always putting yourselves above the others. But you haven’t got the stones.”
Draco felt his face flushing, but really what could he say? They had all been there last night on the Astronomy Tower, when he had not killed Dumbledore.
Alecto’s smile twisted her lumpy features into a hideous mask. “I’m sure Snape’s telling Him all about it right now. Do you think He’ll be pleased with what He hears?”
“I… I fixed the cabinet. I’m the one…” Draco began, but Alecto cut him off with a hex.
“Desnudis totalis!” she cried with a flick of her wand as she rose from the table.
Draco’s robes, his shirt, all his clothes, flew off like a flock of frightened birds. He threw his hands instinctively over his crotch. “What are you…!”
She cackled. “Time to teach you a lesson, Malfoy brat.” She seized him by one arm; her brother, who was almost as squat as she, took the other, and they dragged him into the parlor, the others following. Draco found himself on his knees, his hands bound behind him by Amycus who pointed his wand and muttered simply “Cuffs.” It felt as though his wrists were glued together.
“Let’s play a game,” Alecto said. “Do you know the charm Conflagrius Animus, Draco?” she said, drawing out his name. “Little dragon, I’m surprised, you ought to like this one.” She cast the charm and a tiny creature made of flames appeared in front of Draco on the floor. It was roughly dragon-shaped, about a foot tall.
It belched flame at Draco, and he stumbled back, feeling slightly singed. His legs fell open and the creature lunged toward his crotch. Draco scrambled backward with a cry, the flame close enough to curl his blond pubic hairs. The flame dragon pursued him, and Draco struggled to get to his feet, but the Death Eaters who ringed him kept pushing him down. Alecto cackled as she directed the fire creature with her wand, a jet of flame catching Draco across the buttocks.
Draco bit his lip. He would not scream in front of these cretins. They thought him a coward and if nothing else he was determined not to give them that satisfaction. But then he stumbled and fell, and the thing lunged for his genitals again, and this time Draco did scream. He couldn’t help it; with the feeling that teeth of flame were sinking into his balls, he screamed and kicked his feet.
Then the pain ceased, and he lay limp on the musty carpet. The creature had gone up in smoke. Draco looked up to see Amycus whispering something to Alecto.
Her laugh again was low. “Poor ‘iddle dragon, plays with fire, gets burned,” she said. “You should be grateful, Malfoy brat, for my brother here.”
Amycus knelt at Draco’s side and drew a vial from inside his robes. Draco heard Yaxley chuckle this time and he wondered what was in the vial. “Here you go, Malfoy,” Amycus, said, pouring some of the liquid into his large, meaty palm. “Make it all better.”
Before Draco realized what was happening, the squat wizard had smeared the liquid onto Draco’s singed buttocks. He gripped Draco by the hair then, and continued the smearing between Draco’s legs, until he had Draco’s penis in his grip. His tugged and pulled on the soft flesh. To Draco’s horror, he was beginning to harden.
The Death Eaters all laughed and one of them said “Like father like son, eh?”
That made Draco’s ears burn, but what could he do? His wand was upstairs on the side table. He knew better than to mouth off now. Amycus was pumping harder now, while they all laughed louder. Draco’s body writhed and he squeezed his eyes shut. The only thing he could do now was start plotting his revenge. Why wait until it was over?
In his mind, Draco’s wand appeared magically in his hand. With an upward slash, he imagined casting Sectumsempra, slitting Amycus open from gut to throat. He barely felt the big hand pumping him, barely felt his own body trembling, shaking with tension and mounting arousal. He imagined the blood fountaining out of Amycus’ throat and suddenly his own come fountained up out of him, spilling over the wizard’s hand.
“Ugh, what a mess!” Amycus said in an exaggerated voice and, with his other hand still tight in Draco’s hair, dragged him down. “Clean it up!”
He thrust his slimy hand into Draco’s mouth and Draco gagged, struggling. He was simply not going to lick his own come off Amycus Carrow’s hand, not willingly. The big wizard just laughed at Draco’s struggles, though, and wiped what was left onto Draco’s cheek, then threw him to the carpet.
Yaxley stepped forward then. “A shame to waste all that Pyranthus Oil,” he said, shrugging off his robes and loosening the belt on his trousers. “And such a lovely bum he’s got.”
“No!” Draco shouted, scrambling to his feet. He didn’t care if fighting them was going to make it worse. Some humiliations one could put up with. Being buggered was not one of them.
Yaxley’s trousers dropped to reveal a thick, veiny monstrosity that Draco barely recognized as a penis. “Come here.”
Draco ran, right into the arms of Alecto, who had moved to block him. The others grabbed him, they were forcing him now to bend over a musty ottoman.
“What’s going on here?” Snape was there. Snape, at last.
“Come on, Severus,” Alecto sneered. “You want a taste of this?”
“Leave him alone!” Draco was stunned by the vehemence behind that voice.
But Alecto was not. “Oh, I know you,” she hissed. “You want him all to yourself. Is that why you warded his door last night? Saving him for yourself?”
“Shut up, you miserable hag,” Snape said, and with a flick of his wand they all fell back as if Draco’s skin burned them. Draco curled over, holding his knees to his chest. “What I want is of no matter here. The Dark Lord requires young Malfoy’s presence. Now.”
Draco climbed to his feet, his hands free, and rubbed his arms with his palms. Snape waved his wand once more, and Draco found himself enrobed in an unfamiliar robe. And then Snape took him by the arm, and they Disapparated.