Gringotts was the same as Draco remembered. It would seem despite being in another century it had not changed much. Still cold stone, freezing temperatures, and goblins guarding the wealth of the Wizarding world. For a job that was so incredibly important, he was surprised by the hate that Goblins often got. They were incredibly powerful creatures. The Dark Lord had managed to notice that almost immediately, if the rumors were to be believed, and they had sided with him and aided him greatly during the war. Then again, The Dark Lord had managed to gather a wealth of magical beings and creatures together in a sight that had not been seen ever before. It was partially what had him go down in the history books, more or less-considering everyone was too damn cowardly to actually talk about the things that he did. As much as the so called 'good' side liked to play at learning from their mistakes, they really did not learn from anything if they were too terrified to actually talk about what had happened.
Draco saw Tom walk rather primly to one of the Goblins standing close by the doors. "Hello again, I would like to access my vault," Tom stated clearly. Draco watched with some degree of curiosity as the Goblin seemed to almost...key word...smile as he saw Tom. He held his hand out for the key, which Tom instantly placed in his hand. The Goblin gave a nod and slid off his chair. "I would like enough to cover this years' expenses, as well as my friend's, here." Draco felt his wrist unceremoniously yanked, and he himself went tumbling forwards slightly in front of Tom, who then switched his grasp from his wrist to press tightly on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The Goblin stared at him, eyes narrowing slightly. Draco felt his body curve back into Tom's, though the other refused to let him move behind him. "Recently orphaned, during the war. It is a rather...sensitive topic." Tom said quietly, almost conspiratorially. The Goblin nodded once.
"I will get your funds, as well as this...young...master's funds from the Hogwarts Orphanage foundation." Draco flinched slightly at the words, ignoring the way they stung him. They were true...of a fashion Draco supposed. He still had no idea how he was going to deal with his Hogwarts Sorting, where his name would be called aloud for all to hear. Things were just going to become more and more complicated, and there was nothing to do about it. It is something he will have to deal with later, as he did not have the patience with himself to think it over. "Any specific amount you wish added to the funds from you own vault?" The Goblin questioned Tom.
"I think...perhaps twenty Galleons should do it, though if you think more or less is necessary please, go ahead. I am still getting used to the monetary value of things, after all, and you are far more well versed on the value of supplies and wealth than I am." The Goblin did smile at that, thanking Tom and bowing before hopping to the back. Draco allowed himself the weakness of letting himself fall into Tom, not wanting to think about what could happen if he was spotted by the wrong people. Not just the wrong people, but what would happen when he was in Hogwarts. Despite knowing there was little he can do about how things would unfold, he knew that it was not likely to be...pleasant. His first few months at Hogwarts was going to be...difficult. Then again, what could be considered difficult after his last couple of years? He had survived the Dark Lord in the midst of his madness, and somehow come out alive after two years, almost three. Then he met another Dark Lord, infamous, and yet less...cruel than his own. He had managed to survive both of them. He doubted anything that his first few months of Slytherin would top his experiences in terms of the worst things that had happened.
I have definitely changed more than I would like to think. Draco thought to himself as he and Tom awaited for their funds. I would never have thought that my reputation and the worry of what could happen to someone thinking I was falsifying my information, or being seen as a bastard, half blood, or something even worse would have ever been of little concern to me. Granted, I am still worried, but...before it would have been almost the worst of my thoughts...now...now it is very different. Things have changed so much after the Dark Lord lived with me...I used to only be afraid of angering father, now...things are so different. The realization was discomforting, and Draco shoved those thoughts away. He had changed, and a big part of him was worried what he had been molded into, because it definitely was not something good, even to his own pitiful definition of good.
The Goblin returned not too long after Draco's attempts to avoid his own mind, leaving him somewhat glad that he did not have to worry about that anymore. Tom gracefully took the money bag from the Goblin with a thanks and an incline of his head, when the Goblin stopped them. "I could...ensure that your...friend does not have some sort of inheritance waiting...if you would like." Draco's face paled greatly as his breath stopped.
"That is not necessary," He grit out tightly, and, ignoring the look on the Goblin, and the curious gleam in Tom's eyes, as well as the growing dread of what was going to happen with his upcoming actions, he did not hesitate as he shook himself from Tom's grasp, gripping his arm and practically dragging him from the bank. His breathing was picked up and almost frantic as he crossed from the shaded steps of the bank to the paved steps of Diagon Alley. He did not stop until Tom shoved him off and proceeded to haul him by the collar to a small alleyway between a couple of stores.
"You need to calm down." Tom stated. Draco barely even heard him over the thump of his heart in his ears. He felt as though his lungs were caving in, and his vision was shaky at best. He dropped to the floor, unable to keep himself steady on his shaking legs. For a moment, it was as though he was entirely suspended through nothing but his raspy breaths and yet simultaneous inability to breath, his head fuzzy and stars echoing through his sights. The next moment he was screaming out as he felt blunt teeth slice through his flesh once again. Tom had bit down on his neck again causing blood to drip from his neck into Tom's mouth. Tom, slowly, pulled himself away, and Draco felt an odd feeling roll through his bones as he saw the flecks of blood on Tom's teeth. "You good now?" Draco paused, unable to really figure out what the hell had just happened but...
"Yes, actually," It was surprising. This was what...the third time he had been bitten by Tom, but he could not deny that every time it had managed to drag him from that weird panic induced fog that seemed to happen every time his heart went crazy and his breathing was hard and almost nonexistent at the same time. He was not sure he wanted to look more into that, and he definitely did not want to know if Tom had known such a solution-how he had known if he had known-or if he had just wanted to bite him the first time and happened to realize that it was an effective solution.
"Good, we have things to buy."
"A scarf first...I would hope." Draco growled out, fingers touching the raw flesh on his neck and flinching simultaneously. Tom huffed amused, hauling Draco up from the floor and nodded.
"Fine, a scarf first." Draco felt himself pulled up to his feet, steadied by Tom's arm around his waist before it moved to gently pushing him forwards. That alone left Draco unsteady from the flip. One second Tom is brutally biting into his neck like a damned Vampire and the next second he is guiding him around Diagon alley with a gentle touch. It was almost too much for his mind to truly make out. Either way, with Tom moving him gently, they found themselves to a Robes shop. Draco did not recognize it, so it was likely one of the shops that had gone out of business, though whether that was because of the war or something else he had no idea. "They are not the best, I admit, but I don't feel like walking through Knockturn alley at the moment." Tom said with a shrug. Draco did not really bother with that. He had gone through Knockturn alley about a thousand times with his father, carting dangerous magical artifacts to and from the alley. Then again there was no telling how it had changed. "They are cheap, but good quality. Again, not the best, even in Diagon alley, but it will do." Draco nodded once, too tired and stunned to even bother disagreeing as he was promptly steered into the shop.
Draco had this sort of twisting feeling in his gut but could not place the feeling. He hung back as Tom charmed the worker, ordered their robes, causal wear, and then an additional scarf for him. Draco stepped back abruptly at the woman suddenly standing before him. She stared at him with narrowed eyes before turning back to Tom and muttering a few low questions that Draco did not care to put any effort into hearing. Tom hummed but shook his head muttering something else to her, which she nodded with a 'good idea'. Though what was a good idea, Draco did not catch, and did not really bother to ask about.
Moments later he was being prodded by pins and needles, he closed his eyes, ignoring the discomfort that it gave as they began to pin the sleeves up...He ripped his left arm up to his chest, ignoring the stares of the woman and Tom both at him. He swallowed stiffly. "I don't like my wrists showing..." He stated thickly. The woman quickly gave him a smile and a small wave of her fingers had pinned the fabric back down below his palms. Draco felt a flood of relief so strong he almost fell backwards. He knew he would have to probably answer to that but at the moment he did not have the ability to feel anything but relief.
He knew that the mark would not have any significance in this time, of course it had not even been created yet...of all things...but that did not mean he wanted...
"I know you are more than capable, Draco," He couldn't help but shiver at the voice that whispered behind his ear. The feeling of the Dark Lord hovering over him was never something he could really throw off, and it was more than terrifying. "You would be the youngest I have ever marked, typically I would wait until your seventeenth birthday, but think of this as...another test." Draco almost whimpered. He had really thought that they were just going to do over the crucio curse again. He had been becoming quite good at it, something which surprised him and made the Dark Lord more than happy. They had been practicing the imperius before, but Draco was very good at that, Crucio was his...difficulty. He even managed the Avada, but for some reason Crucio was more complex to him than either of the others. It would seem the Dark Lord was determined that Draco become proficient at it before he was sent off to school, which meant that he had only a few more months to perfect it.
"My Lord, I am not sure I am prepared...or ready for such an Honor..." Draco whispered. He felt his face lifted and his eyes boring into red.
"I say you are...or are you questioning me?"
"Of course not, I am just overwhelmed, my lord, is all." Draco uttered quietly.
"Good..." Draco felt the cold clammy fingers drag his arm out. He closed his eyes, body tensing and preparing. "This will hurt..." The Dark Lord whispered softly, almost regretfully, if Draco had thought that he could feel such a thing. "But afterwards, you will be marked...as one of my own, finally."
Draco's mind was ripped from the memory as he felt arms curve around him and his body dropped into something warm. His breathing was heavy, his eyes stinging with tears. He felt breath against his neck and his fingers unconsciously gripped the shoulders of the person holding him up tightly. He felt the arms about his waist tighten imperceptibly in response.
"I am sorry madam," He heard Tom's voice delicately pass over his ear, his breath against his neck. "He was just recently orphaned, and well, the memories...are somewhat unpleasant." Draco did not hear the response, only ignoring the small voice in the back of his head and his instincts that screamed at him that this was a bad idea and he needed to pull himself away before he did something he regretted later, he allowed himself to drop his head against Tom's neck, letting his weight drop against the other's own, who just effortlessly held him up.
Draco seemed to almost float as Tom paid for them, and he was dragged out of the shop. Moments later Draco was sat down at a table, and a bowl of soup was shoved in front of him as Tom moved in front of him to tie the scarf gently around his throat. "Eat, you need it." The words barely registered, but Draco numbly did as he was told. Slowly, the soup seemed to warm him and calm him, leaving the oh so recent occurrence to drift from his mind. He had no idea how he was supposed to navigate Hogwarts, let alone Slytherin, if he was like this. "You got major triggered, Draco," Tom muttered under his breath, staring at him with unreadable eyes. He ignored the look staring down at the soup that he continued to eat. "I will not read your mind..." How kind. Draco thought sarcastically. "I will say, though, that I do no want you far from me for long. If something like this happens again..." Tom seemed to sigh. "Well, I do not think either of us want to test how the other Slytherin's would take advantage."
Draco shrunk back with wide eyes at Tom. He knew that the others would definitely take advantage, he did not need to know that, and definitely did not want to think of the different ways that they would, particularly since some would be under assumptions to be contending for the Heirship.
"I will, however, keep you safe, after all, I cannot very well allow the Slytherins to mess with my pets." Tom muttered under his breath, almost too quiet for Draco to hear. He felt a discomforting feeling roll down his spine once more at those types of words. He did not like them. They were too...possessive. It reminded him a lot of how the Dark Lord often spoke about his followers, and the Malfoy and Black family in specific. "Do not worry, we will figure things out," Tom drew his gaze down to his wrist. "Although I must say I do not particularly like self harm...and I do not want you to do it again." Despite the discomfort in the way Tom talked about him when he did not think Draco could hear or was listening, he did feel a bit of relief that he only thought Draco was harming himself. At least he was not going to try and check, although Draco would have to be careful about that.
He did not want anyone knowing, even if it meant nothing.