Last Words
Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any of the characters – that honor goes solely to JK, I'm afraid.
I could barely move I was in so much pain. My naked body crumpled in a corner of a dungeon, one of many at Malfoy Manor, tears streaming down my face, the salt in my tears burning the many gashes and bruises on my skin, and I wonder how I let it go this far.
The beatings had been coming since before I could remember. Some of my first memories of my father are of him 'disciplining' me. I had fast become an expert at glamour charms.
I glanced around the room I was in, the room I had become familiar to over the past week. The walls were smeared with my blood, the stench of my own excrements unsettling my already delicate stomach. Searching, still searching. There. A small square of gleaming steel, setting itself apart from the rest of the otherwise endless gray wall. The box contained the weapons Lucius had used on me countless times in the past – it was all there: Thumbscrews, the 'Fork', handcuffs, chains, shackles, irons….
I had experienced all of it.
Shutting my eyes tightly I shook my head slightly trying to rid myself of the images that had started flitting through my mind at the thought of the horrors contained in the safe. My eyes shot open again as the sound of stone scraping stone reached my ears. Blinking several times to let my eyes adjust to the brightness of the cell, I slowly let my gaze move from the floor to the figure standing in the doorway. 'Shit.'
There he was in all of his glory; with his expensive new robes, glistening silver hair, cold, calculating gray eyes targeted on their prey. In one swift move he was on me. Hitting, kicking, and punching wherever he could.
"You're a pathetic excuse for a wizard, Draco," he drawled in my ear, gripping my head by the hair to hold me up to his face, "Should I show you just how pathetic you are? What a pity it had to turn out this way, you were such a pretty little thing." He pulled back just slightly so that I got a full view of his demonic smirking face. A glint came into his eyes and I braced myself for what was about to happen. He roughly shoved my face into the stone wall and shoved his expensive, tailored pants down in one fluid movement. With one rough shove I let out the first scream in days and gave in to the blissful darkness clouding over me.
"Draco," I slowly wake, but am careful to keep my breathing even. It would not do to alert others to my newly regained state of consciousness. "Draco, I need you to wake up for me. Can you do that?" Who was speaking to me? That was not Lucius's voice…
Slowly lifting my head up, I suppress the urge to wince at the effort it takes to sit up. Keeping my mask firmly in place, I quickly analyze my surroundings. I am finally out of the dungeons, but for how long I am not sure. This is surely the house of one of my father's… associates… if I were to go by the interior of the room. It is done solely in dark colors, mahogany, black velvet drapes blocking any sunlight and sneering, dark portraits. I see a hand being raised near to my face and attempt to shuffle back as quickly as I can, fearing that father has come back for another round.
"This is ridiculous. He obviously needs some rest and food before we do anything with him." That voice, it sounds familiar. Could it be..?
"Loathe as I am to agree with you, I fear it is the only visible option."
I can barely hear the conversation floating around me. Fatigue seeps through every pore in my body.
"Draco, it'll be alright."
Everything goes black.