Chapter Text
Despite everything he’d said over the last few years, Draco didn’t truly want the Dark Lord to return. Oh, he’d said the right words, pledged himself to his cause, publicly excoriated the mudbloods and blood traitors. But Draco knew what would happen if the Dark Lord ever returned. Father was most clear about how the Dark Lord was cruel and capricious to his servants as much as his enemies. Father and Draco both enjoyed the perks of being respectable citizens, influential lords, too much to risk having it all taken away from them by a madman’s whims.
In truth, Draco didn’t really care too much about blood purity. You just had to look at Granger and her insane amounts of academic success to know it was bollocks. What mattered was power. The purebloods had it and they intended to keep it and that meant keeping Muggleborns like Granger in their place. Draco had no compunctions about doing whatever was necessary to make that happen. If Muggleborns like Granger got into power, they’d bring Muggle ideas like equality and democracy into the public sphere, and then where would the Malfoys be? Why, they’d merely be outrageously wealthy instead of ludicrously wealthy and thus stunningly influential instead of ridiculously influential. It would be a step backwards, and Malfoys always went forward no matter what.
But Draco’s wants turned out to be irrelevant, because the Dark Lord had returned. Oh, the Ministry refused to believe it. But Harry Potter had said it was true, right after he’d emerged from the maze alone, traumatized, and with tales of the Dark Lord’s resurrection. And while Potter was a weak, naïve fool who believed in childish fantasies like goodness and honor and heroism, he was not a liar or insane. If he said the Dark Lord was back, the Dark Lord was back. End of story.
Draco had received a letter from his mother in a hurried, curt, urgent tone quite unlike her usual elegant, grandiose, and formal prose. It instructed him in no uncertain terms to align himself with Potter and Dumbledore and their so-called Light faction. Draco had seen just how “light” Dumbledore was when he sent all the Slytherins in the direction of a rampaging troll in his first year. Why Potter continued to show unswerving loyalty to a man who sent him back to abusive Muggles every year was a mystery. Probably compulsion charms were involved.
But Mother was insistent Draco align himself with Potter anyway. He supposed he could see the logic from her perspective. Potter was known to have defied the Dark Lord on multiple occasions. He’d failed to kill Potter as a baby. If anyone was a useful ally to have against the Dark Lord, on paper, it would be Potter. And if Potter vouched for Draco, then he was probably in good with Dumbledore for sure.
The Dark Lord, according to Mother, was furious at Father for losing one of his possessions, a very powerful object imbued with some of the strongest of dark magic. He needed Father alive to be his voice in the Wizengamot, so he intended to take his ire out on Mother. She feared he would gift her to some of his more brutal Death Eaters. Such a gift would be anything but an honor.
So Draco passed along a message to Potter, asking to meet him alone in an abandoned classroom after curfew. Potter, after all, had been dumb enough to fall for something similar in his first year, and from all accounts, he hadn’t gotten any smarter over the years. If him putting his name in the Goblet of Fire was an indicator, he’d probably gotten stupider.
Draco confidently made his way to the classroom, ready to do whatever it took to convince Potter. He had a whole song and dance he’d rehearsed about how he’d renounced blood purism, learned the error of his ways, seen the light. If there was one thing the so-called Light Side loved, it was a Death Eater who’d repented. Professor Snape was all the evidence one needed of that. He claimed to feel remorse, and Dumbledore let him run rampant around the school, completely blind to the fact Professor Snape clearly felt nothing of the kind. Those weak-minded fools would be so easy to deceive. He’d have them wrapped around his finger in seconds.
He stepped into the classroom and wasn’t surprised to find Potter waiting for him. He was, however, surprised to see him accompanied by his two constant hangers-on Granger and Weasley. He probably shouldn’t have been, but he was.
Draco nearly forgot to breathe when he saw the three of them arrayed against him. It wasn’t because they were scary. They were good people and thus inherently weak. Granger was scary if you pissed her off enough, but when all was said and done, they’d fall for his ‘repentance.’
No, the reason why he was so affected was because he’d forgotten how bloody hot they all were. All three of them seemed to radiate power like it was an aura emerging from their body. They didn’t even know it – that was the frustrating part. If they let go, if they abandoned their precious light, they could wield power undreamed of. They could make the Dark Lord look like an amateur in time. That was more than enough to get Draco’s motor running. If they’d all looked like trolls, it wouldn’t have mattered. Power was the ultimate turn-on for a Malfoy.
But as it happened, they didn’t look like trolls. In fact, they were bloody gorgeous, all three of them, even Weasley. Potter was strong, well-muscled, especially with all that training he’d been doing for the tournament. His tousled raven locks made Draco just want to grab it and hold on for dear life. And that scar…a sign he’d done the impossible and defied the Killing Curse. Granger had been plain before this year, but she’d grown in both presence and beauty this year. Draco could not forget how in charge, in command she’d looked as she arrived at the Yule Ball on the arm of a Quidditch superstar. And even Weasley was just amazing, with his heavy dusting of freckles and that beautiful red hair and those radiant blue eyes.
“Oi, Malfoy, are you deaf?” Weasley said, speaking of the devil. “We asked you what you want!”
“I need your help,” Draco said. It hurt to say those words, to bend when every cell in his body told him not to bend to these naïve sods.
“No deal,” Weasley said immediately. “I don’t know what game you have in mind, but I’m not going to give you a chance to hurt my best mate.”
Draco laughed in his face. It was a bit rich hearing those words from Weasley, who had hurt said best mate much more than Draco could, by not believing him when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Not that Weasley was wrong, probably, but still. You just didn’t do that to your friends, not in public, anyway. Draco may not have had many virtues, at least in the eyes of those who considered themselves virtuous, but loyalty was one of them. “It’s no game, Weasley. We all know the Dark Lord is back. He’s going to hurt my mum, and I need your help to protect her.”
“Your mother made her choice a long time ago,” Granger snapped. Draco struggled to not roll his eyes. Granger was sanctimonious and self-righteous in the extreme. She didn’t understand that Mother, at least, did not have a choice. She was magically bound to the will of her husband under the terms of her marriage contract, as was the case for all such marriages. Not that Mother wouldn’t have willingly served the Dark Lord if she had the choice, but she did not.
“Please, Harry,” Draco said, crocodile tears forming in his eyes. He knew Potter was the weak link. Granger was stubborn and unmoving and Weasley hated him simply because he was a Malfoy. But Potter was forgiving and merciful, completely suborned to the stupid perpetual second-chances philosophies of Albus Dumbledore. “He’ll hurt her. You have to help me.”
Potter looked deeply uncertain. “I…I don’t know…how do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“He’s not,” Granger said. “Nothing short of an Unbreakable Vow to serve us would convince me, and that’ll obviously never happen.”
“I’ll do it!” Draco said before he could stop himself. He hated the idea of suborning himself to weaker people, but the three of them were softies at heart. Granger thought house-elves should be free. The idea of her ever misusing such a vow was beyond preposterous. They’d never even so much as make him do anything, and he’d get protection for his mother in the process. Not a bad bargain.
“What’s an Unbreakable Vow?” Potter, the dumbass, asked. Really. You’d think after four years of living in a different world with many, many dangers, he’d try to educate himself about basic things like that. What a moron.
Weasley proceeded to explain. Granger objected to the idea, despite it originally being hers, because apparently, she hadn’t been serious, and it was slavery and that was wrong, Harry, Ron, don’t you see?! But Weasley said it was the only way they could trust him (not inaccurate, for once). And Potter said it was just insurance against Draco ratting them out to the Dark Lord. All of this seemed very reasonable to Draco, but something about it didn’t seem right. These were the Golden Nitwits, as those in Slytherin house liked to call them. They weren’t exactly noted for their excess of reason.
Draco wondered if he should just abort the plan. His instincts were telling him something was wrong and he had been taught to trust his instincts. But that was stupid, as stupid as Weasley. There was nothing to worry about here. Potter had a hero complex a mile wide. He was a good guy. He wouldn’t…take advantage of Draco, no matter how much Draco very secretly fantasized about him doing so.
“All right, against my better judgment, we’ll do it,” Granger said with a deep sigh. “But it’s still wrong, and we’ll release him from the vow when the war is over, okay?”
Granger, the know-it-all, proceeded to cast the spell as the binder, starting off with binding him and Weasley together. “Will you, Draco Malfoy, obey all of Ron Weasley’s orders, no matter if they’re illegal or unethical?”
“I will,” Draco said slowly, wondering why they would phrase it that way. But then again, they were no stranger to illegal shenanigans – one had to just look at their dragon smuggling – and they probably wanted to ensure Draco wouldn’t object to doing anything that was unethical from Draco’s perspective. Like Granger’s lunatic freeing house-elves crusade.
“Will you pledge to tell no one of what transpires in this classroom tonight, via any methods of communication, direct or indirect?”
That was more forethought than he was expecting from Granger, but she wasn’t routinely beating Draco in his classes for nothing, and in any case, the last thing he wanted to do was admit the weakness which had caused him to take this Vow in the first place, so he had no objections to agreeing.
“And, Ron Weasley, will you in return promise to protect Narcissa Malfoy from all harm?”
“I will,” Weasley said, sulking. “If I have to.”
“Which you do,” Granger said briskly.
They repeated the process again, with Granger bonding him to Potter and then Potter binding him to Granger. When they were done, Draco stretched his arms and thanked his lucky stars they were done. “Well, thank you for your help.”
Granger’s smile turned sharp and dangerous. “Oh, Draco. You didn’t think that would be it, would you?”
Without even saying a word, Potter locked the door to the classroom. The three of them walked slowly in Draco’s direction, and Draco realized to his horror they seemed entirely different than before. Granger moved with a languid, serene confidence. Potter was no longer the downtrodden, traumatized hero he always acted like. There was something sharper, darker, hungrier in his countenance. And Weasley was no longer the hotheaded, easily angered person he used to be, instead looking cold, confident, and utterly in control of the situation.
“I don’t understand.”
“What a tragically uncommon turn of events,” Potter said in a mocking tone of voice. “Little Malfoy doesn’t understand something. Truly unprecedented!”
Weasley looked at him and smirked, then suddenly swooped in and gave Potter a searing kiss. Draco’s mouth dropped open and he knew he was looking like a gibbering idiot, but this turn of events was just breaking his brain. Only one thought was passing through his head right now, and that was I wish that was me. Because Weasley didn’t look stupid anymore. He looked powerful, and Draco yearned for that power to be turned in his direction.
He looked over at Granger and if he thought his brain was breaking before, he had deeply underestimated the number of pieces it could shatter into, because instead of being annoyed or even wearily indulgent, Granger was turned on. That wasn’t Draco’s imagination talking either! She was blatantly rubbing her nipples through her robes. She wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“I don’t understand,” Draco repeated, because what else could he say?
“In truth, I’m not surprised. Not because you’re a moron – though you are – but because we’ve devoted a great deal of effort into making sure no one understands. Especially not Dumbledore.” She said that name with as much contempt as Father usually said it.
“When Voldemort attacked me,” Potter began, “he left behind a Horcrux, a piece of his soul in his scar.” Was that why Potter was acting this way? No, surely not. That didn’t explain why Granger and Weasley were acting the same. “Dumbledore believed the only way for Voldemort to die was for me to die in turn. He thought the Horcrux couldn’t be removed. He thought wrong. The goblins could do it – for a price, naturally. They’ve been most helpful. Removing the compulsions he placed on me, helping me get my lordship, getting me emancipated.”
Granger stepped over to the two boys and squeezed both of their arses with each hand, possessively. “He approached Ron and I before Harry even came to Hogwarts. Asking us to spy on Harry. Can you imagine?”
“Everyone thinks I’m stupid,” Weasley said. “I can’t say I blame them. I’ve worked hard to give that impression.” He sure had with his anti-Slytherin rants at the drop of a hat and his horrific table manners and his utter denseness at anything vaguely involving tact, all of which Draco was now starting to realize was a clever ruse. “But I’m not. I’m very, very smart. I could have gone ahead and spy on Harry. And that would have gotten me money and maybe in a few years, some power too.
“But Dumbledore is an old man and his time would be running out simply by virtue of his age, even if we weren’t planning on killing him sooner or later,” he went on. “Whereas Harry is young and powerful and famous. He’d control the zeitgeist of the magical world for generations without even trying. So we revealed the truth to Harry and we decided to fool Dumbledore. We made him think we were jumping through his little hoops for years, and all the while, we were building our power base.”
Potter planted a kiss just as intense as the one he’d given to Weasley onto Granger. Clearly, the three of them were a triad. Nothing wrong with that, despite what Muggles might say. “Dumbledore’s time is almost up. He’s going to be jumping at shadows for the next few months. Everyone will see him as a senile crackpot. Because Voldemort didn’t return. I lied. But thanks to the help of your dear cousin Dora Tonks, he’ll be making some appearances anyway…so he can kill the people we need to kill in preparation for our ascension. Just as she made her first performance to your father and his fellow Death Eaters.”
“And then what?” Draco asked, interested despite himself. He hadn’t suspected any of this for a second. It was almost intoxicating, hearing the Savior of the Magical World practically announce he intended to be a Dark Lord.
“And then we ascend,” Granger said in a mocking tone which was frighteningly similar to that Aunt Bella was known to use. “One does not establish a dictatorship to safeguard a revolution; one makes the revolution to establish the dictatorship. The object of persecution is persecution. The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power.”
Draco closed his eyes, knowing he wasn’t long for this world. Of course they’d decided it was time to get rid of their greatest rival, the biggest threat to their power. “Make it quick, then.”
“Oh, the ego you’ve still got on you, Draco,” Weasley said and Draco opened his eyes to glare at his nemesis’s boyfriend. “We’re going to rid you of that soon enough.”
“We didn’t make you Vow to serve us so we could just kill you at the first post, Draco,” Granger said, sounding irritated. “You’re a bigoted piece of trash, but you still have at least a meager brain in your head. We made you Vow to serve us so you could serve us. Sexually.”
Draco’s heart sped up. “You’re going to rape me?”
Potter laughed, not a mocking laugh this time, but like he’d said something genuinely funny. “I don’t think we have to bother raping you, Draco, when you clearly want it.” Draco looked down and was mortified to find Potter was right. He had a raging boner, straining the outline of his robes.
Draco was embarrassed, but not surprised. As he had noted before, power was a turn-on for the Malfoys, and the more Potter and the other two secret Dark Lords had power in spades and were clearly posed to win the war that was coming, probably before the other side even knew there was one. It wasn’t surprising in the slightest that Draco was more aroused now than he’d ever remembered himself being.
“We will not rape you,” Weasley swore. “We could. Very easily. You swore to obey us in all things, after all. We could command you to fuck us or die. But we’re not going to do that. Rape is so unnecessary, so uncreative. It’s like winning a chess match by putting a wand to the other person’s head and forcing them to resign. No artistry to it at all.”
“But you’re going to be our bitch nevertheless,” Potter promised, and Draco believed him. “Because if you do, you can be part of our inner circle, our most beloved sex slave.”
“There are others?”
Granger nodded approvingly at the intuition that comment had displayed. “You won’t be the first and you won’t be the last. Corner, Lovegood – you wouldn’t believe how good seers are at sex – Zabini, Abbott…that’s just a small taste of some of the names you’ll encounter in our harem.”
Potter was suddenly in front of him and his hand was on Draco’s cock and he gave a full body jerk as Potter started to gently rub it. It took Draco’s full self-control to avoid cumming. “We can show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams…you can have everything you’ve ever wanted…and all you have to do is keep saying yes. What’ll it be?”
“Yes,” Draco said, and he fell to his knees in front of his masters and mistress.