#lvdm

Voldemort was not the first time to notice the boy's almost obsessive fondness for sweets.

The boy seemed unable to go any moment without sweets. When he was bored, he would take a few candies out of his pocket to relieve the monotony; at the dinner table, he would happily eat a few bites of a small cake to bring the meal to a perfect end; at the Death Eaters' gatherings, he would sneak behind Lucius and stuff his mouth with candies frantically, as if the taste of the candies melting in his mouth could ease his anxiety and unease. The boy still foolishly thought that his little tricks were flawless, but in fact, they had long been noticed by the great Dark Lord

Draco · Malfoy

This spoiled boy grew up under the doting care of Lucius and Narcissa. The Malfoy family's countless Galleons and extremely high social status smoothed out all the hardships on his path to growth. He almost never experienced any setbacks, and even in terms of diet, he seemed unable to tolerate any discomfort, only favoring sweet candies and cakes. The spoiled and fragile porcelain doll, Voldemort often thought, the ancient and pure Malfoy family should be ashamed to have such an incompetent and childish heir.

Draco knew that everything was gone.

After the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters had taken over Malfoy Manor by force, he could no longer lead the carefree life he once had.

At first, he felt honored and excited about the Dark Lord's arrival. After all, the Dark Lord's return, in a certain sense, signified the resurgence of the glory of pure-blood.

But after seeing the gruesome corpses in the center of the Malfoy Manor's hall with his own eyes and hearing the shrill and terrifying screams constantly coming from the dungeon, the boy finally realized that the reality he was facing was completely different from the beautiful fantasy he had expected. He did indeed detest those lowly "Mudbloods" and ignorant Muggles. Pure-blood wizards were of course the most noble, and they were born to be rulers.

But instinctively he was resisting, was afraid. He began to have nightmares frequently. In his dreams, he found himself standing in the middle of the Malfoy Hall, the stench of blood rudely and forcefully invading every pore of his body. In the dream, he reached into his pocket to take out a candy to calm himself down, but what melted in his mouth was not the expected sweetness, but still the pungent smell of blood.

Draco was by no means a kind and good person with a heart of gold.

This spoiled boy had always been afraid of suffering and didn't have the courage to inflict such torment on others. Even though he was always fond of provoking and bullying others, it was at most just a minor scuffle.

He began to lock himself in his room upstairs more and more often, and started to consume sugar in an increasingly frequent, excessive and harmful way. He almost self-tortured himself by stuffing all kinds of candies and cakes into his stomach, and this obviously brought him bad consequences.

At first, it was just occasional mild twinges, and Draco didn't pay much attention. Soon, it turned into a somewhat unbearable stabbing pain, but the boy merely cast a pain-relieving spell at random each time the toothache flared up. He didn't want to tell anyone about it, especially his parents. After all, the idea of the Malfoy heir being sent to St. Mungo's for eating too much candy sounded far too ridiculous.

When Lucius knocked and entered the room, Draco was idly flipping through his Potions textbook, which he had studied countless times. He had spent the entire afternoon in his room doing nothing but this. The boy looked up, and when he caught the rare anxious expression on his father's usually elegant and reserved face, he instinctively felt panic and unease.

"The Dark Lord has some matters he wants to discuss with you alone."

Lucius sighed, paused for a moment and then continued:

"He's in a bad mood today because of the mission. Be smart, Draco. Don't make Dark Lord angry at a time like this."

The boy raised his head, opened his mouth but said nothing, and nodded dumbly.

"I'll go and report to the Dark Lord first. When you've changed your clothes, come to the study upstairs."

Draco stood in front of the Dark Lord's study for a long time without knocking.

Even though he knew that the room was protected by multiple layers of soundproofing and protective spells, the boy was still afraid. His heart was beating so fast that he couldn't help but worry that his noisy heartbeat might have already disturbed the person inside. After all, the Dark Lord was all-knowing and all-powerful, wasn't he?

So Draco could only reach into the pocket of his robe and fumble out a few honey candies. As the sweet taste of honey completely melted into his taste buds, Draco finally gathered his courage and raised his hand to knock on the door.

When Draco entered, Lucius was reporting to Voldemort. The Dark Lord only shifted his gaze to the boy for an instant. Draco had always been sensitive to others' emotions and immediately sensed the unrestrained cruelty emanating from the Dark Lord.

Lucius' report was still going on.

Draco could only stand by the wall with his head down, waiting. He wanted to raise his hand to wipe the cold sweat that had already trickled down to his neck, but that would only expose his unease in front of the Dark Lord. He didn't want to lose face in front of the Dark Lord. So Draco straightened his tie and his posture, trying to let himself , at least, appear to be confident and in control.

The state of extreme tension was expanding his perception infinitely. Draco faintly sensed that the buzzing of the chandelier above his head was getting louder and louder; it seemed that something like a worm was wriggling under the wallpaper; the bookshelves were giving off a musty smell...

Lucius was still talking with the Dark Lord, but Draco couldn't make out any information from the voices. His entire body felt as if it were sinking. The boy exerted all his strength to maintain his outward composure. His consciousness was gradually becoming hazy, and his mind struggled to stay alert. He was feeling rather drowsy...

It was not until a sharp, more intense pain than ever before jolted the boy's drifting consciousness back to reality that Draco suddenly came to his senses.

Lucius' report was over.

The boy felt two pairs of eyes burning into him. He was forced to become the focus of the entire room.

Draco silently walked to the desk, knelt on one knee, gently kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robe, and quickly returned to his original position.

Then there was a strange silence.

Lucius turned his body sideways, out of the Dark Lord's sight, and winked at Draco, indicating that the boy should take the initiative to speak to the Dark Lord.

"My Lord, I heard that you have something you want to..."

Draco knew he was done . He had finally messed everything up.

The moment he opened his mouth, he felt as if the nerves in his teeth were being torn apart. Waves of intense pain made the spoiled boy tremble uncontrollably. This pain spread from the inside out, making the boy feel as if his entire body was being occupied. He couldn't breathe, couldn't focus on anything else, and was forced to "wholeheartedly" experience that bone-chilling pain.

Lucius rushed over to hold Draco's shoulders to prevent him from falling, but the movement of drawing out his wand to cast a pain-relieving spell on the boy was interrupted by the gaze of the Dark Lord. Voldemort sized up the father and son with his snake-like red pupils.

"I'm truly sorry, my Lord. Draco is not feeling well... I beg your mercy..."

Voldemort emerged from behind the desk, completely ignoring Lucius's words. Draco could feel a cold breeze stirred by his robes. As he walked, the Dark Lord's emerald green robes seemed like a moving cloud of mist.

They stood facing each other. Voldemort examined the boy closely. Draco's features were contorted with pain, and his once smooth blond hair was now damp with sweat, sticking tightly to his pale face.

The all-knowing Dark Lord immediately saw the problem. He pressed the boy's cheek with his long, thin, bony hand, which was only covered by a thin layer of skin. The boy immediately gasped in pain, but he was still obedient and dared not make a sound or shed a tear.

The Dark Lord seemed to be pleased by the boy's appearance. He smiled almost imperceptibly and stroked the boy's cheek with his thumb.

Lucius seemed to want to say something, but the Dark Lord didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Such a trifle, Lord Voldemort will handle it himself. I believe your report is over, Lucius."

"My Lord, how could he trouble you with such a trivial matter..."

"Lucius, get out. Don't make me repeat myself."

"Yes... My Lord."

Now only the two of them were left in the study.

Draco held his breath and didn't even dare to breathe deeply. Neither of them spoke, and they just maintained such an awkward atmosphere.

Voldemort's thumb slid from the boy's cheek to his mouth. He pushed his fingertip in a little, and the boy, in pain, involuntarily tried to push the thing in his mouth out. "Open your mouth, Draco." Voldemort seemed to care nothing about Draco's feelings and just forcefully continued to push his fingers in. Under the stimulation of the bone-chilling pain, the boy's mouth had just been pried open a little and then immediately closed again.

So Voldemort used one hand to grip the boy's neck and the other to slowly pry open the boy's mouth. The force Voldemort exerted was not great, merely resting lightly on Draco's pointed chin, but it was enough to prevent the boy's head from moving significantly.

Draco felt the queasiness returning. His stomach cramped and the nausea made him feel dizzy. The Honey candies he had eaten earlier were churning in his stomach, and waves of nausea made him feel that even his breath was laced with an unbearable sourness. But no matter what, he couldn't and wouldn't throw up on the Dark Lord.

After Voldemort noticed the boy's abnormality, he instead intensified his actions and opened the boy's mouth. He quickly found the cavity that had formed due to excessive sugar intake , and disregarding Draco's pleas and resistance, pressed onto it directly.

In an instant, Draco felt as if he had been hit by a Crucio spell. His mind seemed to be emptied and then pierced by a thousand steel needles. Draco's already pale face now showed no trace of color, and tears streamed down his already sweaty cheeks, wetting the Dark Lord's hand.

Unfortunately, such a scene failed to move the Dark Lord. Voldemort grasped the decayed tooth with two fingers and pulled it out bit by bit.

Draco was almost driven crazy...

The Dark Lord said he would handle this minor matter. Was he planning to yank out that decayed tooth alive? Draco thought in despair and hopelessness. In a sense, this was indeed solving the problem at its root, wasn't it?

The saliva that Draco couldn't swallow and the salty tears gathered in his mouth. Draco could only raise his hands and lightly grasp the Dark Lord's wrist, his beautiful eyes with misty gray pupils wide with tears. Then he mumbled in a pleading tone:

"My Lord, please…please…don't...…"

Even at this moment, the boy was still in control of himself and dared not bite the intruder in his mouth with his teeth.

Voldemort thought for no reason that he quite liked seeing Draco in such a situation. He wanted to torture him. Draco was very suitable for crying and begging for mercy. Oh, perhaps this weak and naive boy was not completely useless. At least his fear and his tears could well satisfy the sadistic desires of the Dark Lord.

The malevolence on him seemed to have dissipated a lot. Just before the boy was about to faint from pain and fear, Voldemort finally let go of Draco.

Draco immediately collapsed on the carpet in exhaustion, gasping for breath and clutching his cheeks tightly with both hands.

When Voldemort turned his back and returned to his desk, he casually cast a spell, and the boy immediately felt the excruciating pain vanish.

Draco looked up in surprise and tension, meeting Voldemort's gaze from behind the table, who was looking down at him:

"My Lord... This is...…?"

"Perhaps I should have Lucius give you a good talking-to about your manners, Draco."

"Thank you for your kindness, My Lord."

Draco immediately grasped the meaning in Voldemort's words. He didn't have time to think about anything else. Rising quickly, he stood solemnly and bowed to Voldemort.

Voldemort no longer stared at him. He pulled out a parchment from the table and began to ask questions about Hogwarts.

The conversation didn't last long. Voldemort only asked Draco a few insignificant questions. Even as he left the study, Draco still had a lot of questions in his mind.