Chapter Text
┈┈⊱⸸ ・𓆗・ ⸸ ⊰┈┈
CH 1
Whisper, give me your life
Yeah, we're both sinners
Your body is close, your tongue lingers
You feed me the taste of your fingers
–࿇┈ ⸸ ┈࿇–
The air felt stale with every labored breath he took; time, the cruelest master of them all, dutifully calling for his end. Though he knew that Death was relentlessly on its approach, Abraxas held no fear, not as he ran his shaking hands over the front of the weathered leather journal. He knew the truth–he would greet Death with a smile knowing that he would be back and in his prime soon enough. He scratched a hasty note:
You know what you must do, pet. Do not doubt me.
Yours, Abraxas
Laying down in his oversized bed that night, the memory of pretty blue eyes that had soothed him for so long lingered as memories of the life that he’d lived played through his fading mind. He fell asleep for the last time with a smile on his lips, his final thoughts of how much of his past would soon be rewritten.
┈┈⸸ ・𓆗・ ⸸┈┈
From the moment that he had come into the world, Abraxas had known that he was special. Malfoys were of a caliber all of their own, notable in and out of the Wizarding World as he had hailed from a line of dukes, people of stature. The Malfoys had worked diligently to ensure that their family was pure, not of blood but of magic, the thing that truly mattered. While other families were littered with incest and disease because of their definition of purity, the Malfoys had kept their faculties. And that had meant everything.
It had been instilled in him from a very young age that there was nothing that he could not do and nothing that he could not possess just by his name alone. That, however, would have never been enough for Abraxas. He did not want things handed to him…that was far too easy. He wanted to know that everything he'd gotten was on his merit alone, because of his charm, his planning, his cunning, his skills.
Abraxas had always been good at reading people, at observing the details that others missed and using that to get what he wanted. He was gifted magically, a natural wordsmith, and he was determined to be acknowledged…to be revered.
It had seemed like the natural progression that within days of arriving at Hogwarts,, the older students had taken somewhat of an interest in him. Whether it was his name alone, or his exceptional skills, he hadn’t been certain, but the seventh year Slytherins had made a game of testing him. Of watching to see how he would handle the rather juvenile situations that they put him in. And when Tom Riddle had taken him under his wing within the first month, it wasn’t Abraxas who was caught off guard. The other knights were naturally put off by, not only the presence of someone they deemed to be a child, but by how quickly he had become Tom’s confidant.
It had only taken one confrontation with the small group for them to understand, one life changing hex just because of one singular step out of line.
Abraxas’ reputation grew, and by the time he was graduating Hogwarts, no one dared to cross him, because even from inside the castle walls he had become someone that Tom trusted to get any job done. And while even Tom’s most trusted knights still had to get permission to breathe, being Tom’s right hand had its perks. Their Dark Lord gave Abraxas a lot of freedom in how he got things done.
As Tom’s plans began to take shape, he had a special role for Abraxas. One that suited him and the life that he’d envisioned for himself. He had, of course, honoured his family’s wishes, marrying a pretty little pureblood witch who had given him two little pureblood children, and like every role he had, he played it dutifully.
His role as a collector had been one that he’d enjoyed immensely. The challenge of finding a weak link within their society, someone that he knew would be of great use to either him or Tom. It had become like a game to him, enjoying the mental foreplay of getting inside people’s minds and exploiting their every weakness.
He had done it often and well in the years leading up to the war, especially after learning what exactly was at stake, all thanks to his little girl. Abraxas had first suspected that Pandora was a Seer when she was three and had screamed for her older brother Lucius to let go of the railing to the stairs. A railing that had hours later broken, severely injuring one of their house elves who’d leaned against it trying to avoid a rambunctious Lucius who was running alongside them.
It wasn’t until the following year–when at four years old she came into his study and told him of the pretty witch that was going to come from a different time to be her new mother–that Abraxas knew. Because while most people would write off their children's silly little stories, Abraxas knew when to listen.
In the years that followed, her insights had become much more vivid:
By seven, the pretty witch was bound to not only Abraxas, but also to a boy with sandy hair and bright blue eyes called Peter.
By nine, the witch was from the future and had knowledge that would save Tom, and help them change the world for the better.
By twelve, the witch was someone that would specifically help them bridge the gap between the two worlds, and Pandora smiled as she told him that her future mother would bring about peace and change. She would do this while being their once Dark Lord's salvation, to bring about his true reign.
She had become a true seer by then, and Abraxas had known that it was time to meet with Tom to make a plan.
┈┈⸸ ・𓆗・ ⸸┈┈
It was always a joy to summon Tom Riddle to his humble abode. Even with the two of them being as close as they were, it was still a gamble depending on what sort of mood he was in. Luckily for Abraxas, that night he had in fact been in a relatively good mood, having spent the day with his favorite Black witch of the month.
“Abraxas, my friend, why have you summoned me so urgently?” He smiled as he sat relaxed across from him.
“My daughter has had another vision.” Tom sat up clearly intrigued. Seers had always been of a particular interest to Tom and everyone knew it. “And I believe you would be particularly invested in this one.”
Instead of just repeating what he had been told, he pulled out his pensive and poured in the scattering of memories from over the years. When Tom emerged, he looked both equally intrigued and frustrated.
“Brax, why did you wait so long to key me in?” He sighed, leaning back in the seat before continuing. “How do we go about preparing for this witch with so little to go off of?”
“I didn’t want to come to you with something incredibly minor such as my future love life, until I knew it was more.” He was relieved when Tom chuckled in response, and made a mental note to later thank whatever witch that warmed his bed for his cheery demeanor.
“There will be more. There always is with Seers.” He reassured him. Pandora was young. He knew that as time went on, the vision would become more clear, and along with it, other details would reveal themselves as well. “But until then, we take what we know and we put people in place.”
“Your spies.” Tom smirked, pulling out a cigar from his tailored jacket while Abraxas handed him a lighter, and the two sat in silence for a moment as Tom thought over what he was suggesting.
He took a long drag, tapping his wand on the heel of his shiny leather shoes. “What are you thinking?”
Abraxas grinned, relieved that his friend had this trust in him. “Having someone in the Ministry will be paramount, because having ears will prepare us. An Unspeakable is never a bad idea, but an Auror would be my first move. And I will have to find this Peter, obviously.”
Tom hummed his approval, his rich brown eyes narrowing back onto the Pensive. “This witch who will bridge the gap?”
She would be vital, and Abraxas knew it, as well as Tom. “We want her to be brought back as soon as possible, and I believe I have just the way.”
In the months since Pandora’s clearest vision, Abraxas had been doing his research.
Tom chuckled, leaning forward as he took another long drag. “A bonding in the future, to force her back to you.”
He was not at all surprised that Tom would have worked out what he was planning. There were only so many rituals that would work, even less that involved three people.
“Yes, once I find this Peter I can set up the ritual on this side of the timeline.”
Time magic was a complicated endeavor, but Abraxas was determined and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He'd never let something as silly as time keep him from what was his.
“You, my old friend, are brilliantly mad.” Tom laughed heartily, leaning back in the chair.
“So I have been told.” Abraxas smirked.
Tom continued to smoke, the silence between them comfortable as the man ran through his thoughts. “You do realize that those rituals require a sacrifice.”
Abraxas could only assume that he would be long since dead by the time his witch would be sent back; but even if he weren't, in order for the ritual to work, it would require blood sacrifice. If it wasn't him, it would have to be one of his descendants. It was a sacrifice that he would willingly make.
“Of course. She will be coming back, so it won’t matter in the end.” It was hard to see any potential sacrifice as truly meaningful, when he knew the timeline that she would come from would never exist.
“It is still quite risky.” He raised a brow as if to challenge Abraxas’ morality, the irony lost on neither of them.
“Don’t you trust me, Tom?”
“You know that I do.”
Abraxas pulled out a leather bound journal, with a smile on his lips. “Then it's time to get our affairs in order.”
In the years that followed, they had used every seemingly inconsequential bit of information from the girl to position themselves just right. They had learned that everything they did before the witch’s arrival could be wrong and cost them dearly, if not precise.
Following the path of darkness will lead you to the light, don’t be afraid of change when she arrives.
Knowing that their failure would lead to their success was a strange concept, but they trusted Pandora’s visions, trusted that they were strong enough to follow the fated path in front of them. Abraxas had used the passing years to gather quite the impressive little collection of informants, moles, and doe eyed Order members.
Caradoc Dearborn, Mrs. Bones, and The Minister’s secretary Portia had all been fun little challenges. Getting into the Auror’s head, feeding him just enough attention to have the man begging on his knees to please him. There was something powerful in turning the strong, silent types into whiny little toys, which amused him like no other. The women though, seducing them mind and body…that was like an elegant dance. They had all been useful, fun to play with in their own way, but it wasn’t until he had stumbled across the sandy haired young man in Hogsmeade that everything had changed. When he met Peter’s piercing blue gaze while walking through the shops with Dora in sixty-five, that had been when the plan began to take shape.
While Abraxas had never taken pleasure in playing favorites, especially not when he had his boring little wife at home, he had known instantly that Peter was special. For two years, he had observed the young man, and it was clear to see how desperate he was to find approval. Always following behind his ridiculous friends, while playing man of the house every summer–trying his best and working hard to help his mother. Nothing he’d done seemed to be good enough for those around him, and Abraxas knew that would be his way in.
He only had to wait until Easter hols, Peter’s seventh year, for the right time to make his approach. He had sent the younger man an offer for a paid internship with his firm, stating that his scores in charms were just what they needed.
When he had entered his office that day in his sharp little grey suit, Abraxas knew that he was going to enjoy breaking him of his attachments. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Pettigrew.”
Peter seemed taken aback by the greeting as well as by his outstretched hand. “No, thank you, sir. I admit, I was surprised to receive your offer.”
Abraxas scoffed and Peter's pretty blue eyes went wide. “You shouldn't be. I had reached out to Professor Flitwick inquiring about students with the most potential, and you were at the top of a rather short list, Peter.”
The young man's cheeks flushed. “I have always enjoyed charms.”
The man clearly lacked confidence as his response was quiet, meek even. “This is good for me, you see. A large portion of our firm deals with antiquities.”
There was a light in the wizard’s eyes as a wide grin spread across his face, “And you could use someone who is a dab handy with charms to appraise and keep items safe.”
“Exactly. Do you think that is something you would be interested in?” He chuckled when Peter sat straighter.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” He noticed the way Peter’s cheeks flushed. “I look forward to working closely with you.”
Abraxas outstretched his hand once more, and Peter sat still looking up at him in a wondrous daze. “I-I would be working with you directly?”
He watched the way that Peter’s jaw tensed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes, I like to oversee new talent. Make sure they are a good fit for me.”
“I look forward to it, sir.”
After Peter’s graduation, it truly hadn’t taken much for Abraxas to have the young man exactly where he had wanted him. He had been so eager to please. A couple of late nights alone together while working on more strenuous cases, a few well timed compliments and reassurances, the occasional flirting and subtle touches. That was all that it took to have the young man hanging onto his every word.
“I have been very impressed with you, Peter.” Abraxas placed his hand on Peter’s lower back as they walked out of the office towards the Floo. “You've picked it all up very quickly.”
It was late, and everyone else in the office had gone home hours before. Peter looked far more anxious than usual, and Abraxas could tell that the wizard was trying to build up his courage as he removed his hand from Peter’s back to check his watch. Peter tracked the movement licking his lower lip.
“T-Thank you, sir.” He stammered.
“It is after hours. You can call me by my first name, you know.” Abraxas winked and Peter’s cheeks flushed at once.
“I-I don’t think that I could, sir.”
Abraxas chuckled, “Suit yourself, pet.”
Peter had shifted closer to him, his hands buried in his pockets. He could see how badly the wizard wanted to make his move, and Abraxas had wanted desperately to hurry this little dance along. The desire was almost overwhelming at that point, to finally start on the ritual in preparation for their future witch, but he knew that in order for this to work, Peter Pettigrew needed to be the one to make the first move.
“Abraxas?” Peter called out as he moved closer to the Floo.
“Yes?”
He turned to find Peter standing before him, his cool blue eyes searching his and there was only a moment of hesitation before Peter pressed his trembling lips against his. The kiss was reckless and unpracticed, but it had been the only invitation that Abraxas needed.
He cupped Peter’s face and walked them back until his back was against the wall. When he angled his chin up so that he could take control and deepen the kiss, he heard Peter’s breath hitch. Felt how his hands trailed up, fisting Abraxas’ lapels as he was kissed breathless, their tongues in a battle for dominance–one that Peter would lose. Abraxas groaned as Peter began sucking on his tongue just hard enough to send a wave of heat straight to his cock, telling him that it was time to get the man on his knees.
That night had just been the start, but what a beginning it had been.
┈┈⸸ ・𓆗・ ⸸┈┈
All of the pieces were finally coming together. The ritual had been planned, the room prepped and Peter’s induction and marking set. This had been it, and both he and Tom knew it.
“You are certain that you have him.” Tom asked, taking a large sip of his whisky.
Abraxas watched how the fireplace cast shadows across Tom’s stoic face. “Positive.”
And he was. Peter Pettigrew would do anything that Abraxas asked without hesitation. The young man was completely devoted to him, and as much as Tom hated the idea of someone’s loyalty being split, even he knew that all of their plans hinged on the wizard’s connection to Abraxas.
“And that isn’t just your pecker talking?” Tom took another long sip and he tried not to feel offended.
“How crude.” He sighed.
“It’s a valid question, given your reputation.”
Abraxas let out a dry chuckle, he had known how the others viewed his contributions. But they could not argue with his results. “Are you calling me a slag, Tom?”
“Brax.” Tom warned.
Abraxas should have known better than to push. It had been no secret that Tom had been far more cranky since Andromeda had stopped being made available to him. And not so secretly,Abraxas had wished that something terrible would happen to the witch’s husband just so that Tom wasn’t such an arse.
“Fine, no, it's not just my cock. I have him securely in position. Tomorrow night, after you mark him, I will take him to the ritual room and explain.” Abraxas had already sorted it all, making sure that the room would be perfect.
“And what if he is against it?” Tom cocked an eyebrow.
“He won’t be.”
Peter was loyal, he had to believe that he would be supportive, everything relied on it.
“So, after tomorrow, this is it?” If he hadn’t known any better, Abraxas would have thought that Tom was worried.
Tom, though, was unshakable. Their Dark Lord had a plan for everything, and Abraxas had no doubt that he had back up plans for even this.
“After tomorrow, nothing else we do matters.” Because that was the truth of it.
The life that they led past that point would cease to exist once his witch was brought to them.
“You are going to journal for the boy, correct?” Tom refilled his glass, his gaze narrowed on the fire.
“I will keep him close for as long as I can, all while I journal until my last day. Filling in with anything else Dora gives us.” Peter would need as much information as they could give him.
Finding the right witch would be of the utmost importance. “The more detailed, the better.”
“I know, Tom.”
┈┈⸸ ・𓆗・ ⸸┈┈
The marking had gone well, Peter having done better than many of the other Death Eaters. After a short welcoming, Abraxas had finally taken Peter into the ritual room, and just like Abraxas had predicted, the young man hadn’t even batted an eye.
“What is this place?” Peter looked around wide eyed, his gaze landing on the altar.
“The room where everything is going to change.” He smiled, taking a step closer to Peter. “You are mine, pet. I have known you would be mine long before we even met, just like I know that our witch will be ours soon enough as well.”
Abraxas cupped Peter’s face, running the pad of his thumb over the wizard’s bottom lip.
“Our witch?” Peter whispered his eyes never leaving his.
“Yes, many years from now, you will find her for us and send her back to this point, to us as we are now.” Abraxas leaned forward, his lips hovering just out of reach of Peter’s.
“Why?” He groaned, his hands finding Abraxas’ chest.
“Because that is what has been foretold.” Their lips met, the kiss brief before he trailed his lips along Peter’s jaw. “This witch will change our world as we know it, and she will be all ours, pet.”
“Ours.” Peter whimpered as Abraxas began to nip at his neck.
“Yes, the three of us are going to have a very good life one day.” He hummed, pressing Peter back against the wall, pinning his hands above his head.
There was a fire in the wizard’s blue eyes as he traced his lover’s face. “But first, I have to find her.”
“I believe in you, Peter.” Abraxas pressed forward, his length hard against Peter’s stomach as he leaned in for a tender kiss. “You are going to do great things, pet.”