Chapter 9: Agony

Harry retired to his room after speaking with Severus. He hadn't anything else to say and didn't feel like forcing conversation. He flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, replaying the kiss in his mind. Harry traced his lips with an index finger and sighed. Closing his eyes, he imagined Draco pressed against him, kissing him just as softly as he did. Unfortunately, harsh reality set in. Draco's trapped with his father now… I won't see him until the start of term… His eyes filled with tears, but he forced them back. He grabbed his knife and made a few slender cuts in his forearm. Sighing, he wrapped his arm in an old t-shirt he ripped up long ago for instances such as these, and fell back onto the bed. He pretended Draco was beside him, just not speaking as though he was just in a bad mood. Harry rolled over and was almost surprised to see the bed empty. It suddenly felt too large and lonely. He actually contemplated going back out to sit by Snape just to have a human near him. But he brushed the idea away. Clearly he'd grown accustomed to sleeping next to the blonde. He felt a hole expand through his heart, threatening to destroy him from the inside out. Harry tried to not think about the torture Draco was probably enduring. But the more he tried to force it from his mind, the more vivid the imaged became. Memories of the Dursleys came as well. He struggled to muffle a frustrated scream as he felt every injury they inflicted upon him, simultaneously. That was one of the draw-backs to the way his magic healed him. If he thought hard enough about the pain he endured, it would become real again. At least for five years after the healing. He shook his head angrily, as though shaking out the memories. Finally he gave into the tears. He hated feeling completely useless when Draco needed him most. Harry eventually fell asleep, hours later, from sheer exhaustion.

Severus watched as Harry left. He was absolutely furious with himself for not being able to do more to help Draco. As he poured himself a glass of firewhiskey, he thought about every way the conversation could have gone better. Finally, after countless hours of berating himself, he walked toward his room. Just before he climbed in bed, his mind flickered to Harry. He turned around—in his pajamas and walked to the boy's room. When he reached the door, he hesitated. What it he's still awake? What if I wake him? What am I doing?! I'm supposed to hate him… But after this, I can't… He shook his head at his irrationality and opened the door slowly. Snape found Potter in what appeared to be a very restless sleep. He set a vial of Dreamless Sleep on his bedside table and left as quietly as he came. After making sure he hadn't woken Potter, he finally returned to his bed. Three hours had passed and he still had yet to fall asleep. The sky was starting to hint at sunrise, but he drank a Dreamless Sleep potion. Even that took longer than usual to take effect.

Draco tripped and fell out of the fireplace, landing in a heap on the living room floor. "Where is the rug, father?" He asked, hoping to have a bit of pleasant conversation before the beating began.

"Hm, I rather liked that rug, but the blood wouldn't come out of it," Lucius replied nonchalantly.

"My blood?" He inquired, silently begging the answer would be yes.

"I suppose some of it was. But most of it belonged to your mother."

"Where is she?"

"Out," he replied smoothly.

"Out where?" Draco spat.

"Out back, six feet under," his father replied with a devilish smile.

"No," he whispered, turning away from his father.

"You do NOT turn your back on me!" He roared, smacking Draco with the serpent head of his cane. The metal bit into the flesh of his son's back. Draco whipped around to face his father with fire in his eyes.

"Why did you kill her?" He screamed.

"Oh come now, Draco, you knew she was just an inconvenience; with all her sentimentality and whatnot."

Draco narrowed his eyes as he charged his father. Lucius raised his wand but he wasn't fast enough. Father and son fell to the floor. SNAP. Oh shit, Draco thought as he rolled over.

"MY BLOODY WAND!" His father roared, all the coolness and calm evaporated from his voice. He was holding both halves in each hand. Draco turned on his heel and sprinted through the house. He could hear his father panting behind him/ Draco was losing ground.

"Shit," he muttered as he tripped on the entry rug. Lucius caught up to him and pushed him. He crashed to the floor, landing with a thud. Draco tried to turn his head to see his father; but before he could get a good look, pain exploded through his side. Ribs. He kicked me in the ribs…. Broken…. More than one… He shook his head, trying to get control over his thoughts. His mind was racing, trying to send his body into shock. Fortunately, Draco was able to hold off the reflex with adrenaline. He forced himself to his knees and stared up at his father.

"Pathetic excuse of a son, you are," he spat. "I'm ashamed to have raised trash like you. But you know what they say 'If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pup.' Your mother was far too kind to you. Too loving. I know she hugged you more than once a month," he seethed.

A sadness filled Draco as his father spoke. He knew part of it was missing his mother, but another bit of it was… he was upset that he'd displeased his father. "I'm sorry I was bad, father. Please forgive me," he pleaded, reverting back to what he said when he was very young.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that," Lucius replied, kicking his son in the knee.

Draco held back his screams as he let his father beat him. The world started fading to black. He could no longer feel the blows, but he could hear them. Draco heard his bones snap, he heard the sound of metal hitting skin, skin hitting skin. It started to blend together, the sound of his father's jeers mixed with the rhythmic beats. Like some kind of sick song, Draco thought bitterly. He wasn't sure when, but he'd started screaming. The punches started coming faster and faster, harder and hard. Crescendo, crescendo, echoed through his mind. Come on decrescendo…. Please, he silently begged. His last thought was of Harry, the bliss of the too short kiss made him relax for a second.Eventually he lost consciousness… And the will to live.