(no subject)
((OOC: Don't like dark stuff? You may not like this. Yet another slice of weirdness brought to you by Tom and Draco...and some chickens.))
Draco was in the shower. The shower was his Happy Place; it was warm, almost an overload of sensation (water everywhere every inch touching where the Cruciatus burned soothing peace), and noisy enough that he couldn’t hear anything outside his damp, porcelain womb. There was absolutely no reason to be anywhere else.
And then, Tom turned the water freezing cold, and Draco began to cry.
It was such a violation; how could Tom (of course it was Tom nobody else ever came here) do this to him? It was mean, it was cruel, it was -
Tom wrenched the shower door open. “Get out,” he said.
Draco stopped crying immediately. Cruciatus was worse. It didn’t matter if Tom wasn’t bored yet (would be eventually oh MERLIN how long was it going to take), didn’t matter what had been done to this refuge; saying no meant Cruciatus.
Then again, everything meant Cruciatus. Draco hitched a couple of times; he hid in his towel.
“Get dressed.”
Tom was being so concise; maybe this was the end?
“I've been thinking about you, Draco,” said Tom in a sultry tone, and Draco’s heart fell. That wasn’t the voice of a boy who was bored. That was the voice of a boy who was only getting started.
Draco shivered with fear as he pulled on his clothes.
Tom watched him dress. He watched the automatic application of boxers, drawstring trousers, a top (all silk, of course), and hairbrush. He watched the fear; the utter and complete destruction he’d wreaked on this child. There was no hope; there was nothing at all but anticipation of pain.
Well, that was both good and bad. Tom had, of course, attempted to destroy Draco; that was the whole point - you couldn’t rebuild unless you first destroyed - but this was just a little more thorough than he’d intended.
There really wasn’t anything left to rebuild. One could do only so much with ash. Ash and shower water made mud - ugh. Disgusting and annoying.
Draco finished his prescribed ritual “Do you want me to wear shoes?” he asked morosely, staring down at his feet.
Tom ignored the question. “Were you thinking of me?”
Draco didn’t answer immediately; his only thought, as usual, was how to avoid pain. “A lot of the time,” he admitted, hoping it was the right answer and looking at his feet in case it wasn’t.
“What do you think about when you consider me, Draco?” Tom drew out his wand; ah, there came the shivering. So predictable. “Truth, now.”
“Please don't hurt me,” Draco said instead, unable to keep the thought to himself.
“Tell me the truth.” Tom pressed his wand against Draco’s chin; and to his surprise, the truth came out. No bootlicking today, apparently.
“You’re cruel.”
Tom snorted. “Well, yes! Everyone knows that!”
Draco risked a peek; he hadn’t been zapped yet, so maybe he was supposed to say more. “I don't know why else you're here.”
“That can't be all you think about, though,” said Tom, moving away from him and studying the room’s symbiotic emptiness.
Fear now. That answer wasn’t enough? But it was the truth! “I don’t think I can please you,” Draco suggested. “Shouldn't even be touching me. It's really impossible to please you. I know it is. I try. I'll keep trying. But this is a game to you. It's going to end that way, and... no matter what, I'll lose.” Draco was looking at his feet again. “I'm not trying to win. But… I guess that's just how it is.”
That was exactly the answer Tom wanted to hear. “Indeed. Sit down.”
Draco did, then spoke again. “I can't please you,” he said, apparently so relieved to finally say it out loud that it bore repeating. “I can't.” Then, he crossed his hands in his lap, bowed his head, and waited for reprisal.
“Oh, but you can. And you will soon see how. For now, it's time to see your soul again.”
Draco was getting monotonous. “I read the book. I can't please you.”
“Shut up, Draco.” Tom sat next to him, and Draco flinched back; pain, pain, there was pain coming -
Tom brushed some of Draco’s hair away with his wand; Draco flinched as though Tom had done it with a branding iron, but didn’t dare pull away. This was really getting too predictable.
“Do you miss Potter?”
Whatever Draco had been expecting, it wasn’t this. He blinked. “Not really, no.”
Tom took the opening and drove forcibly into Draco's mind, looking for every single thing in Draco now that made him miserable and finding the one basic answer that had brought Draco to him.
Worthless…no potential…a failure.. Lucius had given up on him and that colored everything in Draco's perspective. There was no hope for improvement. There wasn't a hope for anything within Draco's fevered mind.
And that just wouldn't do. No, that wouldn't do at all. For how could anyone learn if they were still bound by chains? Tom had been thorough, but he hadn't severed that last chain around Draco, holding him back from achieving his true potential. It was time now to end the last remaining shard of Draco's life and his personality.
Tom's wand tip touched Draco's head ever so lovingly to match the sweetness in his voice as he whispered one word in Draco's ear.
"Obliviate."
Draco had just enough time to be startled. His eyes widened, open mouth so close now to Tom's own that if he just leaned forward enough, he could likely kiss the other boy. And then he went very, very still.
Tom went deeper still into Draco's psyche. In order to produce a rare and beautiful mineral, one had to change around the rock. Changing and banging and destroying would help. But oftentimes, one had to melt and polish down the edges to finish the job. There was no shine without a spark.
He sought out everything in Draco's mind that the boy had failed or succeeded with and took those memories out of Draco's head, obliviating as much as he could. The more he destroyed, the easier it was to move deeper. For memories were related to one another. Remove one and that ruined another. Forgot something and other memories and thoughts fell with it. Tom was only clearing out the debris, eliminating everything, even the garbage so that not a trace would be left to show to Draco who Draco really was.
Or used to be.
Draco made one low sound, responding to how the process felt, but without sufficient memories or understanding to react. His thoughts vanished like water evaporating in the sun until Tom finished his masterpiece and Draco, or what had been Draco, was fully, and completely, destroyed.
There was a change as Tom went through the business; a visible change in Draco's eyes. He stood, awake and aware, but he had lost all memories of himself, of things that hurt, of things that made Draco, Draco. The pain, so open and bare before, left his eyes and he relaxed. The hardest thing to let go of was the father issue but with that gone, his hands no longer clutched at one another. They fell out of his lap, sliding to hand at his sides. The nothingness in his mind left him smoothly blank. Even the good memories he had with his father were gone.
He was left without memories, not knowing who he was, what place he was within and when he looked at Tom, there was no recognition in his eyes whatsoever. He studied the red eyes in front of him in an interested manner, glancing at the face and thinking that Tom looks very nice, indeed.
Tom smiled at Draco, knowing one part of his job was complete. He set to adding memories back inside Draco's head, giving him common sense, and slight details of his background. He allowed Draco to know he has a father and mother but kept them firmly in the background. He allowed Draco to know he's in Hogwarts because he's a Pureblood wizard. He didn't touch the memories circling around the book of Pureblood etiquette, wanting to keep those rules firmly in Draco's mind.
All in all, Draco was a bit confused by the process. There was no emotion attached to any of the facts about the book. Draco merely accepted the facts because they were there.
In the end, that's all Tom wished to give to Draco. Facts were so much easier than wading through lousy emotions.
The entire process took a good deal of time.
Emotions were now a virgin ground for Draco. They weren't developed at all. He sat there throughout, looking amiable enough, looking into Tom's eyes because he decided he liked doing that and he didn't bother to struggle as Tom added more and more of those facts into his mind.
Tom made sure to fill the boy in on the small details; who Draco was, his name, his background, keeping anything that inspired any huge emotions firmly in the back recesses of Draco's mind. It wasn't much but perhaps that was for the best. Draco would answer to his name but he would have no idea as to what it meant.
Finally, Tom added in the fact that Draco belonged to him and that he was there to show him the true way Draco was to lead his life. Essentially, Tom placed himself in the position that Lucius used to be.
And Draco, knowing that he was Pureblood and that was a great thing but unsure as to why, accepted everything, without thinking. Like a very small child who accepts whatever he's told.
Tom smiled and slowly withdrew from Draco's mind. He had a headache from concentrating and focusing his energies, but that was easily kept in check. There was such a difference in Draco's eyes now. From where there was a morose and depressive state before, his expression and his posture could only be described as a natural kind of cheerful. He felt content. There was a sparkle in his grey eyes that altered his look completely. He wasn't aware of the craftsmanship that went into him, Tom knew, but he looked more like old silver, polished, in a collection of flatware.
Right now, he was watching Tom, having decided that he likes to do that. The truly interesting thing that caught Tom's attention was that Draco wasn't projecting any thoughts. He had a natural talent for Occlumency and his hands were back in his lap, relaxed, and with such good posture.
"How are you feeling today, Draco?" He asked in a pleasant tone.
There wasn't even a memory of pain in Draco's mind. He responded automatically, not meaning the words. It was simply what he was supposed to say. "Very well, thank you. and yourself?"
Tom gave him an absolutely beatific smile. "I'm doing very well now that I'm seeing the real you."
Draco blinked, tilting his head a little. "The real me? What was I doing, wearing a disguise?" There was a little grin at the corners of his mouth. One that emulated Lucius' own, though Draco wasn't aware of it. He hadn't a clue what Tom was on about but it didn't bother him.
"Some might say." Oh, Tom was so very pleased with himself. "I have to tell you that you look utterly smashing today. The epitome of a Pureblood."
"Do I?" Draco looked down at himself. "I suppose I do. It's sort of my birthright, isn't it." Apparently, the cockiness wasn't a result of just nurture. He looked at Tom again, studying, thoughtful. After a moment, he made his decision. "I think I like to look at you. You don't mind, do you? Maybe I'd do it anyway even if you did." He added, mostly joking.
"Not at all. In fact, I think I would feel even prouder of you if you did."
"Really?" He sounded interested and pleased. "How come?"
"Because you're my own special project and the more you come together as such, the more pleased I shall be. We've a lot to get through today, Draco. Are you feeling up to learning?"
For just a second, Draco tried to recall...well, something. Some memory to connect to being Tom's special project, and comes up blank. But after a second, the worry coming with that goes away. He was far more concerned with the present, too content to upset himself by thinking about memories he should have. "Aren't I always?" His chin went up, a sparkle in his eyes.
"Yes, you are. But it is common courtesy to ask first, after all! Can't teach the unwilling."
"I've never been unwilling." Draco informed him, although he had no idea if he had been or not. It just seemed the thing to say.
"Oh, I know. Today, we're going to work on curses. I know you like them."
Draco brightened at that. "I do." And he does because he liked to hurt things. That was far too natural for him. He had been born with a sadistic streak but it had been so watered down, it was nearly nonexistent in the wake of all the other events in his life.
Tom spent the better part of the afternoon teaching Draco various curses, carefully measuring the boy's reaction to each of them. Tom noticed that Draco's instincts were far more powerful than anything he really had to show. Understandable, really, since they were so unformed.
Tom took note of the sadistic innocence as he demonstrated to Draco a few of the trickier and more violent curses. The boy could easily be a natural if he played his cards right and thus far, Draco was absorbing as much as a child. He needed Draco to know and understand the curses more than anything else. For when Draco screwed up, he would have to get a practical demonstration.
Draco seemed tireless, not throwing himself madly into a project but doing them without complications.
After several hours of teaching, Tom opted for a more hands-on approach. What better way to start then with the classics? "I want you to be one of the strongest wizards out there, Draco. Everything I do for you, I do because I want you to succeed. I will test you, take you to your breaking point, only to push you harder because I believe you can handle it. You'll show the world one day."
"Really? Draco sounded pleased now, having no idea what breaking points were and no concept of pain. "I like that idea." Strongest wizards? Yeah, he could go with that. Funnily enough, though, he wasn't asking Tom why Tom wanted that for him. He just accepted it.
"It'll be hard, of course. Nothing should ever come that easily."
Draco wasn't fond of that idea. "...Well, we'll see. All right?" He had every intention of finding shortcuts. Why shouldn't it come that easy anyway? Being a Pureblood came quite easily. It's like thinking you have to try to be Caucasian.
This earned Draco a smirk "I'm glad you're seeing it in such a way. You will become a very brilliant wizard, Draco. Under me, you'll learn just about everything." With that, Tom reached out and ruffled Draco's hair, watching for any flinches.
Draco didn't flinch at all. He continued playing with the little rat corpse. Tom had summoned the thing into the room through a convenient hole in the floor and Draco had learned a good variety of curses via the rat until finally it had succumbed from too much pain. "Of course I will be. I should be, shouldn't I?" It was expected. "I think i'm already brilliant." There was something almost endearing about the weirdly innocent cockiness. Draco wasn't being aggressive.
Tom watched as Draco concentrated; pursing his lips as he made the rat's tail inflate, then pop like a balloon. It was followed by a laugh.
"Oh, you are. Otherwise, I wouldn't have anything to do with you."
For one second after Tom's statement, there was a ripple of unpleasantness in Draco. There was fear there, unrecognized fear that was gone in the next second "Yes, but I AM. ..So don't say that." He had no idea why he made that statement.
"Very well." Tom was slightly impressed as the kid was learning how to talk back, but he had to wonder just how far Draco would go.
Draco abruptly looked up to Tom. "I'm bored. We should do something."
Tom studied the brat. This had been the moment he was waiting for. "What is it you would like to do?"
"I don't know." It wasn't as though he had memories of any hobbies. He expected Tom to know what to do because, to him, Tom knew everything. "But we should. We should do SOMETHING."
"Yes, we should." He tilted his head to the side. "You've seen a chicken before, right?"
Draco had to think. He knew the vocabulary word and for a moment, the empty spaces in his mind bothered him. But only for a moment. "I'm sure I have," he said, confidently. "I don't remember just now. Why? Are we going to go find one?"
"Yes, we are. I know precisely where one is. Leftover from the ex-groundskeeper here. I think you should have some hands-on experience."
"Doing what? We eat chickens, don't we? I think I've had one in a salad or something.
Was it any good?"
"Very. You will quickly discover that a good deal of food products taste like chicken." Tom got up off Draco's bed. "Come with me. Follow closely and stay quiet."
Draco hopped up and started after Tom.
"Shoes, Draco. We'll be going outside for this."
"Oh." He paused for a moment, memory clicking in place. He went over to his wardrobe, looking inside and rummaging before making a very pleased sound and pulling out a pair of dragonhide boots. "These are dragonhide!" He beamed at Tom, as though that was just the neatest thing ever.
"Of course. You deserve the best, don't you?"
Draco pulled them on, clearly happy to have them. His fingers stroked the leather sensually. "Yes, of course I do, but these are simply spiffing." He admired them on his feet. "I think I should wear them all the time. Don't you?"
Truly Lucius' son there.
"Only when you need to put shoes on, Draco. It makes no sense to wear them all the time."
"Oh. Well... yes." He flushed a bit, feeling stupid for a moment. He hadn't meant it like that! But then the moment passed and he felt content once again. He made for an amiable kid and it was far too easy to see why he had been spoiled.
"Follow closely behind me." Tom ordered, heading out of the room. Draco followed, of course, and Tom found himself pleased that Draco was coming along so well. He led him outside and was even more pleased to not see Fenrir about. The wolf could practically smell innocence.
Draco looked around as though he hadn't seen the world outside before. With his lack of memories, perhaps he really hadn't. Open-mouthed awe met the sky as Tom took him down the pathway to Hagrid's old hut and around the back to the chicken coop. He followed, making certain not to trip. He was far more coordinated than normal.
"Those are chickens, Draco."
There weren't many of the creatures in the coop. Draco was remarkably unimpressed with what he saw. "Ugh, they're filthy!"
"Indeed they are. Fit only for food."
"Ew. I don't want to eat THOSE."
"Then you'd best do away with them, haven't you?"
Draco looked at Tom then back at the chicken. Do away with…He looked back at Tom. "What, I can do anything I want? Is there some sort of proper way to remove chickens?" He asked, making a face. There weren't any specific facts in his head concerning this matter but if there was a proper way to get rid of chickens, he wished to do so.
"No proper way, really. I tend to prefer snapping their necks but that gets the job done too easily. Why don't you decide what sort of curses you should use? Remember, these chickens are very dirty. Beneath you. How would you handle dirty things that are beneath you?" Tom asked, keeping his voice smoothly casual.
Draco made another face. "I don't want to deal with the mess if I just explode them. Although that much would be fun. There'd be shit everywhere." Oh, such a face he was making! "...I want to drown them."
The blond boy walked over to the trough. He used his wand to make the water pump, not wanting to touch the actual device, and made the trough fill with water.
Tom watched with barely disguised interest. "Will you drown all of them?"
"Yes. Unless it gets boring. I think I'm going to like how it looks."
"You might. But there is something to be said for creativity. You may enjoy other forms of extermination."
"No. No." Draco's voice was low, not breathless, but much more intense. "I want to watch them thrash."
And he did just that. In a second, he had all of the chickens with their heads under the water, using magic to hold them in place as he watched the chickens buck and writhe, fighting against their own demise. It was almost a pity that there was no way for dumb animals to break free of the controlling magic that held them.
A slight flush was in Draco's cheeks and he found himself breathing a little more quickly.
Tom's eyes were fairly glimmering. "Do you like making them suffer?"
The panic of the chickens, the slow loss of life, Draco's voice was definitely breathless when he could answer. "Yes." Two of the chickens he allowed to get some air before dumping them back under the water, prolonging the torture. He was focused in the task at hand, as focused as an average man would be watching a very good porno. Time passing didn't make a difference to him. He kept up the work until all the chickens were completely still, and then looked quite disappointed when the feathered corpses dropped to the ground. The fun was over too quickly.
"What will you do with the bodies?"
Draco had to think about that, a few serious ideas popping into his mind.
"Tell me what you're thinking." Draco wasn't making eye contact so Tom couldn't use Legilimancy. More than that, he did so wish to know the workings of Draco's own mind. Every little nuance mattered to him.
Draco wanted to do something interesting with the bodies. Perhaps put them in someone's bed. His gut said to scare Potter or Granger with them, but he didn't remember who Potter or Granger were. The effect was a bit confusing.
"Draco." Tom pressed, waiting for Draco to look at him. "Others may not understand your enjoyment with the chickens. They may feel sad that the chickens are gone."
"...Sad??" Why would others be sad? He shook his head a little, not comprehending this.
"They are fools."
"That's just disgusting, Tom."
"All the same, it's best not to let others see your work."
"...I want them to know what I did. I want them to WATCH!" This was a turn-on to him, although his mind wasn't interpreting those signals just yet.
"It is your work, Draco. Take pride in it, yes. But there are other powerful wizards here who may not like what you did."
A sudden idea came to Draco. "...Wouldn't it be fun to have somebody watching? maybe somebody afraid, who didn't know if I were going to do it to THEM next? I wouldn't, of course, because once someone's dead there's no use for them anymore, but THEY don't have to know that, do they?
The boy was definitely coming into his own quickly and Tom couldn't be more pleased. "Oh, I think that would be very enjoyable, Draco. That will have to wait until later. Dispose of the bodies."
Oh, but Draco didn't want to do that part! It smacked of work! "Can't I have somebody else do it?" It wasn't as though he didn't know how to dispose of the bodies. He just didn't wish to take care of his own messes. Like a child pouting once it has been told to clean its room.
"No. You must learn all of this first." Tom stayed adamant about this. Far be it from him to always be cleaning up after Draco. That wasn't what he was training him for.
Draco sighed impatiently. "Oh, all right!" He waved his wand and the air soon smelled of roast chicken. The bodies had been rendered to ashes, which pleased Tom all the more. This was complete incineration. Without any inhibitions, without any morals blocking the way, and with raw emotions, the magic would come easier to Draco, allowing him more control. The boy still pouted a little, nothing serious, though.
"Very good, Draco."
That helped Draco quite a bit. He glanced over at Tom.
"You've done well. Exceeded expectations, even."
"I have?" Draco perked up immediately. "Just for that? Really?"
"Really. We all have to start somewhere, Draco."
"..But I'm not starting. Am I?" He couldn't remember doing things before. He gave a puzzled look at Tom, looking for some sort of confirmation. "Tom?"
"Hm?"
"Was I born yesterday, or something?" He asked and the question would sound ridiculous were it not for the dead seriousness that followed it."
"No, Draco. You weren't. But you are coming into a new sort of awareness for yourself."
But now it was bothering Draco that he couldn't remember. He should remember. He should! But...it wasn't a healthy path for him to be wandering down and Tom didn't hesitate to quash that train of thought. "You should not dwell on it, Draco."
"What happened to my awareness before?" He asked, wanting to be distracted from his current confusion.
"You shouldn't ask such questions. You should be happy and content with what is."
"Oh."
The boy needed a bit more of a push. "Dwell on it any longer, and you will displease me."
While there were no memories of pain, Draco did know that he didn't want to displease Tom and didn't hesitate to tell him just that. "I don't want to do that."
"No, you really do not."
There was no fear in Draco and he didn't know why he didn't want to displease Tom. He just really liked pleasing Tom and preferred doing things that way. Displeasing was sad and made people feel bad. He didn't want Tom feeling bad. Not because of him.
"Let's go on back inside, shall we?"
"Okay." He was a bit uncomfortable, but he still followed Tom. He felt better and better the further they got from the chickens and the memory of potential displeasure.
As they walked up, Tom continued. "You will stay in your room, of course, until I'm done with you completely. When the project is finished. If you obey me, I will be most pleased and I will reward you greatly."
"Oh. Okay. Well...of course you will. What else would I do but please you? Really."
"That's what I'm counting on, Draco. I don't think you will let me down at all. But it is of utmost importance that you don't leave your room."
Well, that was easy. Draco hadn't a clue as to what he'd do if he did leave his room. "Okay."
Tom opted for a quick test. "What will you do when a House Elf brings you your food?"
"Eat it." An automatic answer was given with an odd look. "What else would I do, throw it at the walls?" He laughed a bit before another, darker thought came into his mind.. "...You say that like you're not going to be around to eat with me, though."
"Do you want me to be? I tend to be extremely busy at times. But I shall make more time for you if you desire it."
Draco immediately became distraught. "You mean you're LEAVING me?!" This hadn't occurred to him at all! "Don't do that, it isn't right!"
"Oh? Why isn't it?" Well, this was incredibly new.
Draco looked baffled as his mind tried to come up with an answer. "Because...it isn't how it's done! It isn't! You're with me and I'm with you, and that's how it's supposed to WORK, remember? That's how it's always been!" While he couldn't be completely certain about that, he did feel as though that was the way it had always been. There were no exact memories but he did know that his entire conscious life, he had been with Tom. The prospect of being away from him was terrifying.
This was also completely new to Tom. "You don't think you could sleep by yourself?"
Sleep by himself?? Draco couldn't picture being by himself at all at the moment. It wasn't a concept to him at all! "No!" He hoped Tom would stay. He didn't even remember sleeping himself, but he kept looking at Tom, imploringly, as though he could convince Tom to stay with him if he just looked at him long enough. "You're supposed to stay with me, that's where you're supposed to be! Please?" He added, his voice a bit tinier.
Tom smirked internally. Draco was almost too funny! "I wouldn't dream of letting you worry, Draco. I simply wish to make you become a bit independent. Responsible Purebloods normally are. I shall spend the rest of the day and night with you, showing you that there's nothing to fear."
Such relief shown on Draco's face at Tom's answer. "Well...good!" He said, as though he hadn't been worried to death a moment before!
"But I do expect you to learn quickly, Draco. You'll see me everyday, of course. I can hardly let that much time go past between us."
Draco didn't want to think about Tom not being there at all. "But not for a while yet, right?" He pleaded.
"No, not for awhile. You'll have to deal with my presence throughout the rest of the day and tonight. I can teach you a bit more as it were." Tom was being a bit more accommodating than usual but he supposed it was for the best.
"Okay. Okay." Draco could deal with that for a time now. He had Tom and that was what mattered. His mind continually thought of ways to keep Tom from leaving him as he was led back up to the tower.
Draco was in the shower. The shower was his Happy Place; it was warm, almost an overload of sensation (water everywhere every inch touching where the Cruciatus burned soothing peace), and noisy enough that he couldn’t hear anything outside his damp, porcelain womb. There was absolutely no reason to be anywhere else.
And then, Tom turned the water freezing cold, and Draco began to cry.
It was such a violation; how could Tom (of course it was Tom nobody else ever came here) do this to him? It was mean, it was cruel, it was -
Tom wrenched the shower door open. “Get out,” he said.
Draco stopped crying immediately. Cruciatus was worse. It didn’t matter if Tom wasn’t bored yet (would be eventually oh MERLIN how long was it going to take), didn’t matter what had been done to this refuge; saying no meant Cruciatus.
Then again, everything meant Cruciatus. Draco hitched a couple of times; he hid in his towel.
“Get dressed.”
Tom was being so concise; maybe this was the end?
“I've been thinking about you, Draco,” said Tom in a sultry tone, and Draco’s heart fell. That wasn’t the voice of a boy who was bored. That was the voice of a boy who was only getting started.
Draco shivered with fear as he pulled on his clothes.
Tom watched him dress. He watched the automatic application of boxers, drawstring trousers, a top (all silk, of course), and hairbrush. He watched the fear; the utter and complete destruction he’d wreaked on this child. There was no hope; there was nothing at all but anticipation of pain.
Well, that was both good and bad. Tom had, of course, attempted to destroy Draco; that was the whole point - you couldn’t rebuild unless you first destroyed - but this was just a little more thorough than he’d intended.
There really wasn’t anything left to rebuild. One could do only so much with ash. Ash and shower water made mud - ugh. Disgusting and annoying.
Draco finished his prescribed ritual “Do you want me to wear shoes?” he asked morosely, staring down at his feet.
Tom ignored the question. “Were you thinking of me?”
Draco didn’t answer immediately; his only thought, as usual, was how to avoid pain. “A lot of the time,” he admitted, hoping it was the right answer and looking at his feet in case it wasn’t.
“What do you think about when you consider me, Draco?” Tom drew out his wand; ah, there came the shivering. So predictable. “Truth, now.”
“Please don't hurt me,” Draco said instead, unable to keep the thought to himself.
“Tell me the truth.” Tom pressed his wand against Draco’s chin; and to his surprise, the truth came out. No bootlicking today, apparently.
“You’re cruel.”
Tom snorted. “Well, yes! Everyone knows that!”
Draco risked a peek; he hadn’t been zapped yet, so maybe he was supposed to say more. “I don't know why else you're here.”
“That can't be all you think about, though,” said Tom, moving away from him and studying the room’s symbiotic emptiness.
Fear now. That answer wasn’t enough? But it was the truth! “I don’t think I can please you,” Draco suggested. “Shouldn't even be touching me. It's really impossible to please you. I know it is. I try. I'll keep trying. But this is a game to you. It's going to end that way, and... no matter what, I'll lose.” Draco was looking at his feet again. “I'm not trying to win. But… I guess that's just how it is.”
That was exactly the answer Tom wanted to hear. “Indeed. Sit down.”
Draco did, then spoke again. “I can't please you,” he said, apparently so relieved to finally say it out loud that it bore repeating. “I can't.” Then, he crossed his hands in his lap, bowed his head, and waited for reprisal.
“Oh, but you can. And you will soon see how. For now, it's time to see your soul again.”
Draco was getting monotonous. “I read the book. I can't please you.”
“Shut up, Draco.” Tom sat next to him, and Draco flinched back; pain, pain, there was pain coming -
Tom brushed some of Draco’s hair away with his wand; Draco flinched as though Tom had done it with a branding iron, but didn’t dare pull away. This was really getting too predictable.
“Do you miss Potter?”
Whatever Draco had been expecting, it wasn’t this. He blinked. “Not really, no.”
Tom took the opening and drove forcibly into Draco's mind, looking for every single thing in Draco now that made him miserable and finding the one basic answer that had brought Draco to him.
Worthless…no potential…a failure.. Lucius had given up on him and that colored everything in Draco's perspective. There was no hope for improvement. There wasn't a hope for anything within Draco's fevered mind.
And that just wouldn't do. No, that wouldn't do at all. For how could anyone learn if they were still bound by chains? Tom had been thorough, but he hadn't severed that last chain around Draco, holding him back from achieving his true potential. It was time now to end the last remaining shard of Draco's life and his personality.
Tom's wand tip touched Draco's head ever so lovingly to match the sweetness in his voice as he whispered one word in Draco's ear.
"Obliviate."
Draco had just enough time to be startled. His eyes widened, open mouth so close now to Tom's own that if he just leaned forward enough, he could likely kiss the other boy. And then he went very, very still.
Tom went deeper still into Draco's psyche. In order to produce a rare and beautiful mineral, one had to change around the rock. Changing and banging and destroying would help. But oftentimes, one had to melt and polish down the edges to finish the job. There was no shine without a spark.
He sought out everything in Draco's mind that the boy had failed or succeeded with and took those memories out of Draco's head, obliviating as much as he could. The more he destroyed, the easier it was to move deeper. For memories were related to one another. Remove one and that ruined another. Forgot something and other memories and thoughts fell with it. Tom was only clearing out the debris, eliminating everything, even the garbage so that not a trace would be left to show to Draco who Draco really was.
Or used to be.
Draco made one low sound, responding to how the process felt, but without sufficient memories or understanding to react. His thoughts vanished like water evaporating in the sun until Tom finished his masterpiece and Draco, or what had been Draco, was fully, and completely, destroyed.
There was a change as Tom went through the business; a visible change in Draco's eyes. He stood, awake and aware, but he had lost all memories of himself, of things that hurt, of things that made Draco, Draco. The pain, so open and bare before, left his eyes and he relaxed. The hardest thing to let go of was the father issue but with that gone, his hands no longer clutched at one another. They fell out of his lap, sliding to hand at his sides. The nothingness in his mind left him smoothly blank. Even the good memories he had with his father were gone.
He was left without memories, not knowing who he was, what place he was within and when he looked at Tom, there was no recognition in his eyes whatsoever. He studied the red eyes in front of him in an interested manner, glancing at the face and thinking that Tom looks very nice, indeed.
Tom smiled at Draco, knowing one part of his job was complete. He set to adding memories back inside Draco's head, giving him common sense, and slight details of his background. He allowed Draco to know he has a father and mother but kept them firmly in the background. He allowed Draco to know he's in Hogwarts because he's a Pureblood wizard. He didn't touch the memories circling around the book of Pureblood etiquette, wanting to keep those rules firmly in Draco's mind.
All in all, Draco was a bit confused by the process. There was no emotion attached to any of the facts about the book. Draco merely accepted the facts because they were there.
In the end, that's all Tom wished to give to Draco. Facts were so much easier than wading through lousy emotions.
The entire process took a good deal of time.
Emotions were now a virgin ground for Draco. They weren't developed at all. He sat there throughout, looking amiable enough, looking into Tom's eyes because he decided he liked doing that and he didn't bother to struggle as Tom added more and more of those facts into his mind.
Tom made sure to fill the boy in on the small details; who Draco was, his name, his background, keeping anything that inspired any huge emotions firmly in the back recesses of Draco's mind. It wasn't much but perhaps that was for the best. Draco would answer to his name but he would have no idea as to what it meant.
Finally, Tom added in the fact that Draco belonged to him and that he was there to show him the true way Draco was to lead his life. Essentially, Tom placed himself in the position that Lucius used to be.
And Draco, knowing that he was Pureblood and that was a great thing but unsure as to why, accepted everything, without thinking. Like a very small child who accepts whatever he's told.
Tom smiled and slowly withdrew from Draco's mind. He had a headache from concentrating and focusing his energies, but that was easily kept in check. There was such a difference in Draco's eyes now. From where there was a morose and depressive state before, his expression and his posture could only be described as a natural kind of cheerful. He felt content. There was a sparkle in his grey eyes that altered his look completely. He wasn't aware of the craftsmanship that went into him, Tom knew, but he looked more like old silver, polished, in a collection of flatware.
Right now, he was watching Tom, having decided that he likes to do that. The truly interesting thing that caught Tom's attention was that Draco wasn't projecting any thoughts. He had a natural talent for Occlumency and his hands were back in his lap, relaxed, and with such good posture.
"How are you feeling today, Draco?" He asked in a pleasant tone.
There wasn't even a memory of pain in Draco's mind. He responded automatically, not meaning the words. It was simply what he was supposed to say. "Very well, thank you. and yourself?"
Tom gave him an absolutely beatific smile. "I'm doing very well now that I'm seeing the real you."
Draco blinked, tilting his head a little. "The real me? What was I doing, wearing a disguise?" There was a little grin at the corners of his mouth. One that emulated Lucius' own, though Draco wasn't aware of it. He hadn't a clue what Tom was on about but it didn't bother him.
"Some might say." Oh, Tom was so very pleased with himself. "I have to tell you that you look utterly smashing today. The epitome of a Pureblood."
"Do I?" Draco looked down at himself. "I suppose I do. It's sort of my birthright, isn't it." Apparently, the cockiness wasn't a result of just nurture. He looked at Tom again, studying, thoughtful. After a moment, he made his decision. "I think I like to look at you. You don't mind, do you? Maybe I'd do it anyway even if you did." He added, mostly joking.
"Not at all. In fact, I think I would feel even prouder of you if you did."
"Really?" He sounded interested and pleased. "How come?"
"Because you're my own special project and the more you come together as such, the more pleased I shall be. We've a lot to get through today, Draco. Are you feeling up to learning?"
For just a second, Draco tried to recall...well, something. Some memory to connect to being Tom's special project, and comes up blank. But after a second, the worry coming with that goes away. He was far more concerned with the present, too content to upset himself by thinking about memories he should have. "Aren't I always?" His chin went up, a sparkle in his eyes.
"Yes, you are. But it is common courtesy to ask first, after all! Can't teach the unwilling."
"I've never been unwilling." Draco informed him, although he had no idea if he had been or not. It just seemed the thing to say.
"Oh, I know. Today, we're going to work on curses. I know you like them."
Draco brightened at that. "I do." And he does because he liked to hurt things. That was far too natural for him. He had been born with a sadistic streak but it had been so watered down, it was nearly nonexistent in the wake of all the other events in his life.
Tom spent the better part of the afternoon teaching Draco various curses, carefully measuring the boy's reaction to each of them. Tom noticed that Draco's instincts were far more powerful than anything he really had to show. Understandable, really, since they were so unformed.
Tom took note of the sadistic innocence as he demonstrated to Draco a few of the trickier and more violent curses. The boy could easily be a natural if he played his cards right and thus far, Draco was absorbing as much as a child. He needed Draco to know and understand the curses more than anything else. For when Draco screwed up, he would have to get a practical demonstration.
Draco seemed tireless, not throwing himself madly into a project but doing them without complications.
After several hours of teaching, Tom opted for a more hands-on approach. What better way to start then with the classics? "I want you to be one of the strongest wizards out there, Draco. Everything I do for you, I do because I want you to succeed. I will test you, take you to your breaking point, only to push you harder because I believe you can handle it. You'll show the world one day."
"Really? Draco sounded pleased now, having no idea what breaking points were and no concept of pain. "I like that idea." Strongest wizards? Yeah, he could go with that. Funnily enough, though, he wasn't asking Tom why Tom wanted that for him. He just accepted it.
"It'll be hard, of course. Nothing should ever come that easily."
Draco wasn't fond of that idea. "...Well, we'll see. All right?" He had every intention of finding shortcuts. Why shouldn't it come that easy anyway? Being a Pureblood came quite easily. It's like thinking you have to try to be Caucasian.
This earned Draco a smirk "I'm glad you're seeing it in such a way. You will become a very brilliant wizard, Draco. Under me, you'll learn just about everything." With that, Tom reached out and ruffled Draco's hair, watching for any flinches.
Draco didn't flinch at all. He continued playing with the little rat corpse. Tom had summoned the thing into the room through a convenient hole in the floor and Draco had learned a good variety of curses via the rat until finally it had succumbed from too much pain. "Of course I will be. I should be, shouldn't I?" It was expected. "I think i'm already brilliant." There was something almost endearing about the weirdly innocent cockiness. Draco wasn't being aggressive.
Tom watched as Draco concentrated; pursing his lips as he made the rat's tail inflate, then pop like a balloon. It was followed by a laugh.
"Oh, you are. Otherwise, I wouldn't have anything to do with you."
For one second after Tom's statement, there was a ripple of unpleasantness in Draco. There was fear there, unrecognized fear that was gone in the next second "Yes, but I AM. ..So don't say that." He had no idea why he made that statement.
"Very well." Tom was slightly impressed as the kid was learning how to talk back, but he had to wonder just how far Draco would go.
Draco abruptly looked up to Tom. "I'm bored. We should do something."
Tom studied the brat. This had been the moment he was waiting for. "What is it you would like to do?"
"I don't know." It wasn't as though he had memories of any hobbies. He expected Tom to know what to do because, to him, Tom knew everything. "But we should. We should do SOMETHING."
"Yes, we should." He tilted his head to the side. "You've seen a chicken before, right?"
Draco had to think. He knew the vocabulary word and for a moment, the empty spaces in his mind bothered him. But only for a moment. "I'm sure I have," he said, confidently. "I don't remember just now. Why? Are we going to go find one?"
"Yes, we are. I know precisely where one is. Leftover from the ex-groundskeeper here. I think you should have some hands-on experience."
"Doing what? We eat chickens, don't we? I think I've had one in a salad or something.
Was it any good?"
"Very. You will quickly discover that a good deal of food products taste like chicken." Tom got up off Draco's bed. "Come with me. Follow closely and stay quiet."
Draco hopped up and started after Tom.
"Shoes, Draco. We'll be going outside for this."
"Oh." He paused for a moment, memory clicking in place. He went over to his wardrobe, looking inside and rummaging before making a very pleased sound and pulling out a pair of dragonhide boots. "These are dragonhide!" He beamed at Tom, as though that was just the neatest thing ever.
"Of course. You deserve the best, don't you?"
Draco pulled them on, clearly happy to have them. His fingers stroked the leather sensually. "Yes, of course I do, but these are simply spiffing." He admired them on his feet. "I think I should wear them all the time. Don't you?"
Truly Lucius' son there.
"Only when you need to put shoes on, Draco. It makes no sense to wear them all the time."
"Oh. Well... yes." He flushed a bit, feeling stupid for a moment. He hadn't meant it like that! But then the moment passed and he felt content once again. He made for an amiable kid and it was far too easy to see why he had been spoiled.
"Follow closely behind me." Tom ordered, heading out of the room. Draco followed, of course, and Tom found himself pleased that Draco was coming along so well. He led him outside and was even more pleased to not see Fenrir about. The wolf could practically smell innocence.
Draco looked around as though he hadn't seen the world outside before. With his lack of memories, perhaps he really hadn't. Open-mouthed awe met the sky as Tom took him down the pathway to Hagrid's old hut and around the back to the chicken coop. He followed, making certain not to trip. He was far more coordinated than normal.
"Those are chickens, Draco."
There weren't many of the creatures in the coop. Draco was remarkably unimpressed with what he saw. "Ugh, they're filthy!"
"Indeed they are. Fit only for food."
"Ew. I don't want to eat THOSE."
"Then you'd best do away with them, haven't you?"
Draco looked at Tom then back at the chicken. Do away with…He looked back at Tom. "What, I can do anything I want? Is there some sort of proper way to remove chickens?" He asked, making a face. There weren't any specific facts in his head concerning this matter but if there was a proper way to get rid of chickens, he wished to do so.
"No proper way, really. I tend to prefer snapping their necks but that gets the job done too easily. Why don't you decide what sort of curses you should use? Remember, these chickens are very dirty. Beneath you. How would you handle dirty things that are beneath you?" Tom asked, keeping his voice smoothly casual.
Draco made another face. "I don't want to deal with the mess if I just explode them. Although that much would be fun. There'd be shit everywhere." Oh, such a face he was making! "...I want to drown them."
The blond boy walked over to the trough. He used his wand to make the water pump, not wanting to touch the actual device, and made the trough fill with water.
Tom watched with barely disguised interest. "Will you drown all of them?"
"Yes. Unless it gets boring. I think I'm going to like how it looks."
"You might. But there is something to be said for creativity. You may enjoy other forms of extermination."
"No. No." Draco's voice was low, not breathless, but much more intense. "I want to watch them thrash."
And he did just that. In a second, he had all of the chickens with their heads under the water, using magic to hold them in place as he watched the chickens buck and writhe, fighting against their own demise. It was almost a pity that there was no way for dumb animals to break free of the controlling magic that held them.
A slight flush was in Draco's cheeks and he found himself breathing a little more quickly.
Tom's eyes were fairly glimmering. "Do you like making them suffer?"
The panic of the chickens, the slow loss of life, Draco's voice was definitely breathless when he could answer. "Yes." Two of the chickens he allowed to get some air before dumping them back under the water, prolonging the torture. He was focused in the task at hand, as focused as an average man would be watching a very good porno. Time passing didn't make a difference to him. He kept up the work until all the chickens were completely still, and then looked quite disappointed when the feathered corpses dropped to the ground. The fun was over too quickly.
"What will you do with the bodies?"
Draco had to think about that, a few serious ideas popping into his mind.
"Tell me what you're thinking." Draco wasn't making eye contact so Tom couldn't use Legilimancy. More than that, he did so wish to know the workings of Draco's own mind. Every little nuance mattered to him.
Draco wanted to do something interesting with the bodies. Perhaps put them in someone's bed. His gut said to scare Potter or Granger with them, but he didn't remember who Potter or Granger were. The effect was a bit confusing.
"Draco." Tom pressed, waiting for Draco to look at him. "Others may not understand your enjoyment with the chickens. They may feel sad that the chickens are gone."
"...Sad??" Why would others be sad? He shook his head a little, not comprehending this.
"They are fools."
"That's just disgusting, Tom."
"All the same, it's best not to let others see your work."
"...I want them to know what I did. I want them to WATCH!" This was a turn-on to him, although his mind wasn't interpreting those signals just yet.
"It is your work, Draco. Take pride in it, yes. But there are other powerful wizards here who may not like what you did."
A sudden idea came to Draco. "...Wouldn't it be fun to have somebody watching? maybe somebody afraid, who didn't know if I were going to do it to THEM next? I wouldn't, of course, because once someone's dead there's no use for them anymore, but THEY don't have to know that, do they?
The boy was definitely coming into his own quickly and Tom couldn't be more pleased. "Oh, I think that would be very enjoyable, Draco. That will have to wait until later. Dispose of the bodies."
Oh, but Draco didn't want to do that part! It smacked of work! "Can't I have somebody else do it?" It wasn't as though he didn't know how to dispose of the bodies. He just didn't wish to take care of his own messes. Like a child pouting once it has been told to clean its room.
"No. You must learn all of this first." Tom stayed adamant about this. Far be it from him to always be cleaning up after Draco. That wasn't what he was training him for.
Draco sighed impatiently. "Oh, all right!" He waved his wand and the air soon smelled of roast chicken. The bodies had been rendered to ashes, which pleased Tom all the more. This was complete incineration. Without any inhibitions, without any morals blocking the way, and with raw emotions, the magic would come easier to Draco, allowing him more control. The boy still pouted a little, nothing serious, though.
"Very good, Draco."
That helped Draco quite a bit. He glanced over at Tom.
"You've done well. Exceeded expectations, even."
"I have?" Draco perked up immediately. "Just for that? Really?"
"Really. We all have to start somewhere, Draco."
"..But I'm not starting. Am I?" He couldn't remember doing things before. He gave a puzzled look at Tom, looking for some sort of confirmation. "Tom?"
"Hm?"
"Was I born yesterday, or something?" He asked and the question would sound ridiculous were it not for the dead seriousness that followed it."
"No, Draco. You weren't. But you are coming into a new sort of awareness for yourself."
But now it was bothering Draco that he couldn't remember. He should remember. He should! But...it wasn't a healthy path for him to be wandering down and Tom didn't hesitate to quash that train of thought. "You should not dwell on it, Draco."
"What happened to my awareness before?" He asked, wanting to be distracted from his current confusion.
"You shouldn't ask such questions. You should be happy and content with what is."
"Oh."
The boy needed a bit more of a push. "Dwell on it any longer, and you will displease me."
While there were no memories of pain, Draco did know that he didn't want to displease Tom and didn't hesitate to tell him just that. "I don't want to do that."
"No, you really do not."
There was no fear in Draco and he didn't know why he didn't want to displease Tom. He just really liked pleasing Tom and preferred doing things that way. Displeasing was sad and made people feel bad. He didn't want Tom feeling bad. Not because of him.
"Let's go on back inside, shall we?"
"Okay." He was a bit uncomfortable, but he still followed Tom. He felt better and better the further they got from the chickens and the memory of potential displeasure.
As they walked up, Tom continued. "You will stay in your room, of course, until I'm done with you completely. When the project is finished. If you obey me, I will be most pleased and I will reward you greatly."
"Oh. Okay. Well...of course you will. What else would I do but please you? Really."
"That's what I'm counting on, Draco. I don't think you will let me down at all. But it is of utmost importance that you don't leave your room."
Well, that was easy. Draco hadn't a clue as to what he'd do if he did leave his room. "Okay."
Tom opted for a quick test. "What will you do when a House Elf brings you your food?"
"Eat it." An automatic answer was given with an odd look. "What else would I do, throw it at the walls?" He laughed a bit before another, darker thought came into his mind.. "...You say that like you're not going to be around to eat with me, though."
"Do you want me to be? I tend to be extremely busy at times. But I shall make more time for you if you desire it."
Draco immediately became distraught. "You mean you're LEAVING me?!" This hadn't occurred to him at all! "Don't do that, it isn't right!"
"Oh? Why isn't it?" Well, this was incredibly new.
Draco looked baffled as his mind tried to come up with an answer. "Because...it isn't how it's done! It isn't! You're with me and I'm with you, and that's how it's supposed to WORK, remember? That's how it's always been!" While he couldn't be completely certain about that, he did feel as though that was the way it had always been. There were no exact memories but he did know that his entire conscious life, he had been with Tom. The prospect of being away from him was terrifying.
This was also completely new to Tom. "You don't think you could sleep by yourself?"
Sleep by himself?? Draco couldn't picture being by himself at all at the moment. It wasn't a concept to him at all! "No!" He hoped Tom would stay. He didn't even remember sleeping himself, but he kept looking at Tom, imploringly, as though he could convince Tom to stay with him if he just looked at him long enough. "You're supposed to stay with me, that's where you're supposed to be! Please?" He added, his voice a bit tinier.
Tom smirked internally. Draco was almost too funny! "I wouldn't dream of letting you worry, Draco. I simply wish to make you become a bit independent. Responsible Purebloods normally are. I shall spend the rest of the day and night with you, showing you that there's nothing to fear."
Such relief shown on Draco's face at Tom's answer. "Well...good!" He said, as though he hadn't been worried to death a moment before!
"But I do expect you to learn quickly, Draco. You'll see me everyday, of course. I can hardly let that much time go past between us."
Draco didn't want to think about Tom not being there at all. "But not for a while yet, right?" He pleaded.
"No, not for awhile. You'll have to deal with my presence throughout the rest of the day and tonight. I can teach you a bit more as it were." Tom was being a bit more accommodating than usual but he supposed it was for the best.
"Okay. Okay." Draco could deal with that for a time now. He had Tom and that was what mattered. His mind continually thought of ways to keep Tom from leaving him as he was led back up to the tower.