"Tell me, is there anything specific that draws them out?" Tom questioned, to which Draco just shrugged. He was not really sure. It was all some odd sense of disassociation and panic that tended to send him careening into past memories, which never went well because Draco did not have good past memories, and most of the memories he did have that were decent were mere manifestations of either his Father or the Dark Lord's manipulations. He had gotten better at seeing such things whilst he got older, but when he was younger it was impossible to notice and he fell for it almost every time. He had to admit, he still sometimes fell for the pretty words. It was because he was so weak, emotionally, and that was not a good thing. Both Father and the Dark Lord saw the weakness inside of me. Draco thought distantly to himself, and they both tried to stamp it out, though the Dark Lord was less obvious about it, but then again he was quite the sadistic bastard anyways...and it was not as though anyone could do anything against him. He was incredibly powerful. "No? Interesting...Well pain, at the very least, seems to work quite well in reigning you in." Tom stated with no sense of propriety. Draco stared at him, startled for a reason he could not explain. Tom had never quite shown care or any regard in caring about what was proper anyways, he could not possibly expect he would speak with any sense of it. He just...he did not know. There was something that seemed to be siphoning Draco, and whatever it was caused him to not be as...as sharp as he normally was.
Which was just a fancy way of saying he had some major trauma, and likely some large case of PTSD, in Tom's own opinions if he were to have heard Draco's thoughts aloud-though his eyes did quite a good job at conveying his thoughts when he was alone with Tom-that he did not thin that Tom should have spoken in such a way. It was not as though Tom cared anything for the Pureblood social manner. He never had, though he was good at imitating it. He behaved how it suited him, and when it did so, though there was definitely some...unique situations, such as with young Draco here. Though it was obvious that he was not fond of Tom speaking such blunt plainness about certain topics, he did not question him. Tom would chock that up to the trauma. He was not sure exactly what it was that Draco had suffered, but it did not take much to know that he had. The fact that he had started out at the Orphanage when Tom and him met was enough of a clue. He knew for most people, particularly older, the death or abandonment of their parents took a great toll on them, though Draco seemed less concerned about that and more concerned about...something else.
He was not quite sure what it was, after all Draco's Occlumency was quite impressive. Tom did not want to break through forcibly, though he knew he would be capable of it if he tried. That would merely breed a sense of resentment, and Tom did not want to make his little toy resent him yet. It was far too soon. There were small cracks though, and since Tom was so often tuned in towards Draco, he could catch glimpses, though there was little more. Flashes of green lights, screams, and pleas that sounded so delicious coming from Draco's mouth. He could only hope that soon enough he could get to hear those pleas formed in person rather than through glimpses of shadows. For now, Draco's obviously unbalanced mental state was fun to play with. Tom was having quite the delightful time, and his enjoyment was only getting deeper the more Draco attempted to push back. He knew, a part of Draco was dangerously rebelling against whatever it was that haunted his past, but he knew that there was more to what was going on than what any would understand.
He had seen the mark on Draco's arm, after all, and there would be no reason for there to be a mark on Draco's arm...when Tom barely had finished designing it himself this year. It worked exactly the way that he had intended it too, as well. Draco was quite young, but considering his own personal current fascination with the Malfoy boy, he would not hesitate to believe that his older self did not feel in a similar way to him and had gone ahead to mark him early. Perhaps those thoughts were about him...Tom did not know, though if they were that would make the revelation even more sweet. It was almost...laughable. Tom was manipulating an unstable mind that he himself had aided in creating. Though he could not give himself the whole credit here, he had seen the nightmares plaguing Draco's sleep, and only a portion of them had to do with an ominous figure, many of them had to do with long hair, and thin fingers upon a snake's cane. Tom would credit that was his father.
He did not know exactly how Draco had managed to come so far in the past, because the apparition that Draco saw in his minds' eye was not Abraxas, but it was clearly his father, so there was at least one generation between Tom's and Draco's own. Still, he was not going to question it. Tom himself was quite adept at dark magic, rituals that had been forbidden for centuries, and he had a great wealth of information, with the Malfoy and Blacks' information at his fingertips, literally. It would not surprise him if he had managed to find something that called for a travelling ritual, particularly since, from what little he had gleaned in what he had read, those rituals essentially reworked the fabric of time. Tom himself would not be able to come, it was mere folly, but he could send someone else...though that had never been done before. Though he could not necessarily take credit. The world of Magic alone, and ancient magic besides, was quite fickle, and often could and would do strange things that none could predict.
He could say that Draco being here was quite the asset. It was obvious his magic was immensely powerful, though for some reason it seemed to...curve inwards on itself around Tom. He had noticed, after all, how Draco did not do anything to defend himself against Tom, and against his attacks, and how his magic, though volatile in many ways, did not beat or shove him as it often did to everything, and he would hazard to assume, everyone else. Despite Draco's mind, a part of him trusted Tom...which was hilarious if he did say so himself. This would be of great use in the future. Draco's wealth of information on the future was...of little consequences to Tom however. He did not need it, and therefore had no reason to interrogate the young Malfoy on it. After all, if Magic had sent Draco here, assisted or otherwise, it was because Tom had likely begun to fail in whatever it was he had been attempting to manage. Considering it had been at least two dozen years of Tom's efforts, it was clear that he had not managed to succeed, at least...not entirely. Therefore, what need would he have...he could tell based of Draco's reactions, obviously, and once he managed to coax Draco into a more comforting position with him, Draco would tell him almost anything he wanted.
The boy was loyal to a fault...though that seemed to be mostly with family, to himself, and Tom presumed an extent to his friends. Which meant Tom needed to cement himself as something...in-between all of those. Not easy, by any means, but it was not the first time he had toyed with lovers to gain access to materials. However, he could not treat Draco the way he often would as a sort of...way in. Draco was obviously not used to kindness, clearly did not trust it, and wanted nothing to do with any who showed it...likely feeling as though they were hiding something. It ensured Dumbledore would not be able to get his mitts on Tom's pet, which was definitely reassuring, but it also meant that Tom had to play about it a different way. He did not mind it, his ability to drag Draco from whatever numbness his mind sends him towards, and tumbling upwards from whatever hole that it had dropped down using pain was quite effective. He saw it in the way that though Draco grumbled, he did not protest. Draco feared him, that was obvious, but many people feared him, even the more powerful, so it was not surprising. It was more interesting to see how Draco reacted to fear...and it was delicious.
Tom honestly would not mind putting Draco in terrifying situations more to see the beautiful stormy grey eyes littered with tears and the shaking of his body, compared with the beautiful whines and whimpers...not to mention the submissiveness that Tom was awarded in such situations. His Magic could completely overwhelm Draco, though he was careful to ensure it was only slightly. He would have to walk a more delicate line than his other pets, however. Draco was fragile, but in such a Slytherin manner that it would be easy to shatter him with the wrong words or intents. It was clear he did not mind slight physical pain, nor physical dominance. Tom had tested that repeatedly. He did not question Tom's biting him, drawing his blood through his teeth, nor did he fight Tom when he manhandled him, or threw him around-at least not when he was sentient enough to recognize him. Draco's magic not responding against him in anger-likely due to his exfuture self-made it quite easy to do. However, cursed pain may bring about entirely different results, and Tom did not just mean Crucio. Literally any sort of magical pain would likely cause him severe distress, and rip any sense of loyalty that Tom managed to cause.
Such a fine line was difficult to walk, balancing pain, harsh cruelty, and his desire to hurt Draco and see him beg him for mercy, with a sort of apathetic kindness. It was a challenge though, and Tom quite liked challenges. Draco's mind rebelled against kindness, but took a sense of perverted comfort in pain, it relaxed him but terrified him at the same time. A rather unique disposition. Tom was curious as to how his project would continue to flourish under his painful fingers.
Picking up the book that had dropped from Draco's fingers as Tom had traced the mark he made, he handed it back to the boy. "Do not worry about it too much, my dear," Tom said gently, letting his fingers drift to the side of Draco's face, watching his eyes widen minutely, his pupils shaking slightly. "I am sure we can figure things out at a later time, for now we just wait until tomorrow. I am sure the school will be quite thrown about with your presence." Draco nodded slowly, not sure what to do...cautious. Tom gave him a slight narrow of his eyes and amused quirk of his lips. "Come to the bed now, let us rest."
"Th-The...but there is only one. I am fine with just...just resting on the floor, certainly there is no need to..." Tom ignored the slight stuttering of Draco's words, grabbing him once more around the left arm, the marked arm, and yanking him forwards roughly, depositing him on the bed, and crawling in himself, gripping a slightly frantic Draco's shoulders and waist and pulling him against Tom's own body.
"Calm yourself," He spoke in a more soothing, lilting manner. Draco's heart was racing beneath his fingers. "I will not do anything to stain your precious purity." Yet, he thought with amusement as Draco slowly, but hesitantly, relaxed in his arms, falling asleep almost immediately.