The refreshing cold water splashed his face as water from the shower rained down on him. He slicked back his soaked blonde hair. Everything that had happened less than six months ago came back to him…
They shoved him to the ground. Draco winced in pain as he tried to get up. He could feel the numerous wounds on his back, blood gushing out of them.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the Death Eaters dragging his mother in. Narcissa Malfoy was almost unrecognisable. Her clothes were torn and tattered. Blood matted her hair, sticking to her equally bloodied and bruised face. Her limbs hung helplessly by her side. Draco choked back a sob. They had broken all her arms and legs. Day in and out, he heard that despicable Voldemort performing all sorts of curses on her. His mother's shrieks always reached his ears, but he was unable to do anything about it. Each time a Death Eater nearly killed her with an Avada Kedavra curse, Voldemort would stop him or her.
"I'd like to enjoy the vista of her sufferings," he would say. "I'm sure young Draco will be entertained as well."
It was all done away from Draco's sight, behind closed doors. However, tonight was a different story. Tonight the mother and son would see one another being tortured – to death.
"Crucio." Voldemort's cold, hard voice floated into Draco's ears.
Draco screamed in agony. With a flick of Voldemort's wand, Draco's limbs were contorted and juxtaposed at such horrible and unimaginable positions. Voldemort would not break his arms, Draco knew that. He would inflict just enough for Draco to feel the searing pain of his torture, and break Narcissa's heart.
"Stop it!" in the midst of his horrifying execution, Draco heard his mother's weakened pleadings. "Don't hurt him, please. Vent out all his punishments on me, if you must. But please, leave my son alone. He's too young!"
"Sectumsemptra!" Voldrmort thundered, his wand aimed at Narcissa's arm. The curse was on target. Crimson liquid leaked from her wound profusely.
"Mother!" Draco sobbed out, fighting against the Cruciatus curse to no avail.
Narcissa launched into a steady barrage of Latin, gazing steadily at her son. Draco could make no sense of what she was uttering, but it sounded so familiar to him.
"He will never be able to lay a finger on you, Draco," Narcissa breathed out raggedly. "Never. Trust me."
Draco's eyes widened as realization hit him. Those string of Latin words were part of an ancient Latin protection spell. Any harm inflicted on the protected person would deflect and be inflicted on the caster instead. Even if the caster was dead.
"Wonderful, Narcissa," Voldemort interjected, clapping his hands mockingly. "I'm so touched. You've just made Draco's torture much more easier for me. Much more.."
The sinister lord whirled around to look at Draco with his contemptuous red eyes. "Enjoyable," he finished, smirking as if what he was proposing to Draco was gift from heaven.
Draco gritted his teeth, containing the building fire inside of him. He wanted so much to wipe that condescending smirk out of the lord's face. Hell, he wanted him dead.
Voldemort crouched next to Draco. Gently, he lifted Draco's chin with his index finger so much so that the young Malfoy's grey eyes were level with his burning red ones.
"Perhaps you forgot I can read your mind," Voldemort lowered his voice so that only Draco could hear him. "You wished for death didn't you? I'll give you death."
Still looking at Draco, Voldemort pointed his wand towards Narcissa.
"Avada Kedavra," he hissed.