Warnings: Death, Rape, Violence, warped view of a Master/slave relationship, Nothing Explicit.
Author’s Notes: Inspired by the amazing short "All You Have To Do Is Ask" by The_Minx_17 and written as a very belated gift for her birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!!
Please Review! Con-Crit is always welcome, but if you want to flame, please, go find a fire to jump on and leave me alone. Thank you for reading!
Diclaimer: The boys are not mine, they belong to JkR. I make no money off of this, and I promise that once I am done playing I will return them relatively unharmed...
The despair had not left me since I watched the Dark Lord fall. I had known, of course, that I was taking a great risk aligning myself with the Dark, but there was no other option for me. I had hoped that Potter would kill me before the war's end, condemning and saving me in one moment.
I knew that I would not be saved the moment the message came. The Order was moving in on the Riddle house, closing in on their prime target, and I was too close. Kneeling there beside my Master’s bare feet it occurred to me that all I need do to find my salvation was kill him- make yourself the only target and you are bound to be killed- but I couldn’t do it. No matter what else he may have been, he was my Master, the only one I had left, and his hold over me was too strong.
And so I knelt there. I watched as Potter stormed into the dimly lit room, followed by his own version of the Death Eaters- Dumbledore’s Army. I watched as Potter dropped his wand and reached behind him as his friends franticly blocked my Master’s attacks. I watched as Potter removed a hand pistol from the waist of his trousers and ended a generations-long war with one perfectly aimed shot between my Master’s glowing red eyes. And I prayed that he would do me the same courtesy as he turned his pistol towards me.
God had stopped listening to my prayers many years ago.
Inside my dark and dingy cell in the Ministry, as I awaited my trial, I found hope. As they beat me, raped me, tied me down and beat me again, I began to believe that I might have found what I was looking for. They called me scum, slave, boy. They indulged in all the dark fantasies that each longed for, but had long since given up hope of ever attaining because they are actions of evil- things that Death Eaters found pleasure in.
I was dragged into the courtroom, bloodied and broken, expecting to be sent to hell, hoping that someone would save me and send me to my death instead. As usual, I did not get what I wished for.
There was no trial. I was told that I would be handed over to Potter to live out the rest of my life as his slave. They snapped a collar around my neck and attached a metal chain to the cuffs around my wrists, handing the other end to Potter. Casting me a demonic smirk that would have shamed even the most evil of the Malfoys, Potter began leading me out of the ministry to my new life.
He never asked me why I did it- any of it- following the Dark Lord, spying, killing Dumbledore. He never had to ask. He had his answers that night, when he saw me at the Dark Lord’s feet- the perfect little slave. My life has never been my own. I cannot live with out a Master, for what is a slave without a Master? They are nothing.
And I have a Master.