A/N: And incredibly short, random piece of shit. Reviews and flames appreciated.
WARNINGS: All the usual crap you would expect in my stories.
Don't Speak
One warm July night, Draco Malfoy awoke, shaking and terrified, in his bed. He'd had another nightmare. He's been getting them for quite a while. A nightmare about cold grey eyes, strong hands, and blood. A shadow-figure.
In vain, he tried to calm his heavy breathing. There was a knock on the door.
"Hello?" he called out shakily, sitting up in his bed.
Don't speak.
There was silence.
"Hello?" he called out again, wondering who could have been knocking on his bedroom door at about three in the morning.
Don't speak.
"He-hello?" Draco breathed, painfully aware of the silence that echoed around his huge room.
Don't speak.
The door opened and Draco gasped.
Don't speak.
A shadow-figure, something from his nightmares.
Don't speak.
There was absolutely nothing he could do, and he knew.
Don't speak.
He couldn't run, he couldn't hide, he couldn't call out for help.
Don't speak.
He would have no where to go, no where he wouldn't be found, no one who would listen to his cries for help.
Don't speak.
'If you close your eyes, it will all go away' my arse.
Don't speak.
He couldn't just close his eyes, for the shadow-figure would still be there.
Don't speak.
Draco just stared at it, mind going into turmoil, but he didn't move, didn't speak.
Don't speak.
He didn't say anything when it started moving closer to him deliberately slowly, it's heavy footsteps on the wooden floor so very loud and deafening to his ears, compared to the quiet in the rest of the room.
Don't speak.
He didn't speak, didn't whimper, didn't scream, didn't even dare to breathe, when its cold, hard hands ran over his skin, instantly rousing goosebumps all over his flesh.
Don't speak.
He didn't say anything when he felt it violate him, the same way it had the summer after fifth year, when it had escaped from the 'closely guarded' cell of Azkaban, the same way it had when he was eleven, the night before he went to Hogwarts, the same way it had when he was eight and it was drunk, and it was erased from his memory permanently until now.
Don't speak.
Draco screamed until his throat bled in his sleep the next night.
Don't speak, child, for it will be all the worse if you do.
End.