Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression
Roxy Music 'In Every Dream Home a Heartache' – Disposable darling, can't throw you away now.
CW: smut, suicidal ideation, torture, references to sexual assault.
Chapter 21:
The day of the full moon comes much too quickly for my liking. The last two days are just one big blur, the last few hours have felt like minutes. There's a weight on my chest I can't seem to shake and no matter how deeply I try to breathe, I can't get any oxygen into my lungs. I should be warm; Alf drew me a bath half an hour ago and I can feel the water's warmth on my skin, but I'm shivering, goosebumps still occasionally creep up my sore neck.
Draco is out, at lunch with his mother. When he left, his face didn't give any clue as to how he was feeling, but I can't imagine very well. He decided on his own to go through my memories one more time yesterday and hasn't said a word to me since. It's left me slightly nauseous; I barely touched my dinner and could only stomach a dry piece of toast this morning.
I'm not sure what I would prefer; for Bellatrix to come and get it over with or for her to bide her time and leave us in this tension for another month.
I inhale deeply, close my eyes, and let my entire body slide under water. I stay like this, in blissful, warm darkness, until my lungs start to ache. I allow some air to escape them and open my eyes to watch them float to the surface. The ceiling looks hazy, distorted through the water. I watch the chandelier's light dance through it and blink, watching the edges of the tub blur. I pay no attention to the ache in my chest, my screaming lungs, for just a few more moments…
Just as my brain starts to grow fuzzy something grabs my arm and a second later, Draco's panicked face appears above mine. I fly upwards, half of my own volition, half because Draco pulls on my arm, and I accidentally inhale some of my bathwater on my way to the surface.
I cough it back up violently and grab onto the side of the bathtub to steady myself. "Fuck Malfoy," I splutter. I can't feel my fingers.
"Merlin, Potter," Draco half shouts. "Can you do me a favor and not off yourself on my watch?" He sinks down onto the floor, into the water that has sloshed all over the grey tiles and leans his back against the tub. He lets his head hang, taking deep breaths.
"I wasn't trying to off myself, Malfoy," I shoot back, half groaning, because my heart is still hammering in my chest at double its normal speed. I let myself sink back down slightly, resting my forehead on my hand that's still got the edge of the bathtub in a death grip. I try mimicking Draco's, but my breathing is too shallow, and I can barely get air into my lungs.
"Potter?"
"I'm fine," I say, my voice several octaves higher than it should be. I try lifting my head back up, but my vision is still blurry, the walls refuse to come into focus. None of this is helping my heart to calm down in any way. My chest feels like it's about to explode. I press a hand against it, feeling my heartbeat and trying to rub the pain away. I need to get out of this tub. I don't feel able to hold myself up much longer, and if I slip back into the water...
"Alf!" Draco shouts, but I can't hear what he says to the elf with this ringing in my ears.
I hang my head over the side of the tub, I can't lift it far enough away from the water otherwise. Draco grabs hold of my upper arm almost painfully and I try focusing on his fingers. I barely notice the bathtub draining, but what I do notice is an icy cold splash of water hitting me square in the face.
It's a shock to my system. My vision clears, air rushes into my lungs and the ringing in my ears disappears almost instantly. Draco throws a towel over my body and lifts me out of the tub. He sits down on the floor, pulls me between his legs, with my back against his chest, and holds an open vial to my lips. I can smell the mint and readily try taking hold of the flask, but I'm shaking so violently, I can't quite close my fingers around it. Draco presses my head against his shoulder to steady it and pours the calming drought down my throat. He drops the vial, wraps the towel tighter around me and starts rubbing my shoulders.
It takes me a minute to realise he is talking to me, telling me I'm okay and that everything will be alright. "Thank you," I say when my limbs have finally stopped shaking. Every hair on my body is still raised though. I pull my knees up to my chest.
"Any time," Draco says lightly.
I leave my head on his shoulder, I don't quite trust myself to raise it yet. I'm sniffling lightly, but other than that I feel entirely calm. Draco pulls a clean handkerchief from his trouser pocket and hands it to me. It's crisp and white and I huff at the ornate D.M. embroidered in emerald, green.
"What?" Draco asks.
I just shake my head and quietly blow my nose. I lean back against Draco, and he wraps his arms around mine, holding me up. The floor is still soaking wet and we're sitting right in the middle of it. "Your trousers," I say matter-of-factly, scrunching the handkerchief in my fist.
"What about them?" He asks.
I turn my head slightly to look at his profile. "They're merino wool." I point at where the water has soaked through them.
Draco huffs, "how do you know what my trousers are made of?"
"All your winter trousers are merino wool, Alf told me."
"You and Alf talk about the fabric of my trousers?" He snickers.
"No," I say. "Alf just babbles a lot sometimes."
"You know you can tell him to shut up?"
"No!" I say indignantly. "He's the best company I have, I'm not telling him to shut up." Draco falters a bit. "He'll be upset. It already takes him ages to get the snow stains out of your hems." Draco fails to hold back a snort of laughter and I smile at the sound.
"I'll apologise to him," he says with a smile.
"You really should. And maybe put an impervious charm on your clothes?"
"I will, I promise." He kisses the top of my shoulder and I'm suddenly very aware that I am still wearing nothing but a towel. I pull it tighter around me and Draco stiffens. "I'll leave you to get dressed," he says, pulling his arm away from me.
But I hold on to them, refusing to let him let go of me. I'm not ready yet. Not ready for what's about to come.
"What time is it?" I ask quietly.
He raises the watch on his left wrist, but I refuse to look at it. "Quarter past five," Draco says. He's stopped pulling his arms away from me, but he's not wrapping them around me as tightly as before either.
"When do you need to go?"
Draco is silent for a moment. "We have about half an hour."
The lump in my throat doubles in size. The room feels icy cold again. I grip Draco's arms tighter and wrap them back around my chest, holding them in place. I can feel Draco's heart in his chest. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and inhales deeply, shakily.
"Can we stay like this for a bit?" I ask.
Draco doesn't respond to me, but gently pulls one arm out of my grip and I let out an involuntary whine. I can feel his lips pull into a smile, they're right by my ear and his breath tickles it when he says, "I'm just going to vanish the water."
I feel goosebumps spread across the back of my neck.
Draco flicks his wand, drying the floor. He drops it carelessly and I hear it gently roll away somewhere behind us, then he wraps his arm back around me and pulls me closer to his chest. I let my head drop backwards onto his shoulder and snake my fingers over his, holding them tightly to secure his arms around me.
I can feel the towel steadily loosening, but I pay it no mind.
Draco kisses my cheek. It's chaste, but I feel heat creeping up my face nonetheless and I turn it towards his, realizing, maybe a fraction too late but with no regret whatsoever, that our lips are now brushing against each other.
He kisses the corner of my mouth and uses his nose to gently push my face back forward. I'm about to let out another whine, another pang of rejection adding to the dull ache in my chest, but he brushes his lips against my ear lobe and lingers there for a moment before he kisses my neck just underneath it. I draw in a sharp breath, goosebumps spreading to my arms.
He spreads his fingers, allowing mine to fall between them, and closes his fists to hold my hands in place. The towel feels dangerously loose, threating to expose my chest, but I couldn't care less. Draco's lips don't leave my neck and my eyes flutter shut. He traces his lips softly from my neck to my shoulder and back, finding that sweet spot again, just under my ear, where I feel his tongue dart out. I let out quite a different kind of whine and feel Draco's lips spread into another smile.
The tip of his nose traces along my ear, up, then back down, testing. I pull my head back, stretching upwards to expose more of my neck to him. Draco's arms, still tightly wrapped around my middle, pull on the towel in the process. It was a calculated move on my part, but I pretend I don't notice as the edge of the towel brushes across my nipples, rock hard since that first kiss just under my earlobe.
Draco groans.
He continues tracing kisses up and down my skin, nibbling at it, sucking it gently, and I sigh up at the ceiling. I want to reciprocate somehow, but he still has my fingers trapped in his fists. I try freeing them when he opens up his hands, but he squeezes his fingers together, keeping hold of mine as he opens up his arms. He places our joint hands on my knees and I let them fall open between his, resting our legs against each other. He traces lazy circles over my knees and lower thigh with our fingers and I let out my first, only slightly whiny, moan.
"Potter," Draco says, voice eerily too calm for my liking.
I groan in response, annoyed because it means he's let up on my neck.
"Show me," he continues, guiding our fingers further and further up my thigh. "Show me what you'd like me to do."
I let out a shaky breath, as the goosebumps finally spread across the rest of my body. I feel his breath on my ear and know he's looking at me expectantly. My heart is hammering for quite a different reason now and for just a second, I feel apprehensive, embarrassed almost, too shy to follow his request. I ignore it.
Tentatively, I move my hands on his and Draco follows my lead, still holding my fingers tightly between his. I guide his hands further up on the inside of my thighs and moan quietly, fingertips feeling icy cold against the heat of my skin. Draco resumes his work on my neck and I melt into him as he finds that sweet spot under my ear again.
I want to linger, want to keep feeling his fingers on my inner thighs, but I know we don't have time to. I guide the fingers of his left hand between my legs, use them to spread my labia and show him exactly where to place his middle and ring finger. I shudder slightly, feeling that familiar pull, filled with anticipation. He doesn't move his fingers though, not until I show him exactly how to. I moan loudly as I adjust the pressure of his fingers to my exact liking, and he just so happens to pair it with a particularly delicious nibble on my neck.
I lose all apprehension.
I leave his right hand on my inner thigh for the time being, enjoying the movements of his fingers on my clit, enjoying the feeling as it swells, blood rushing to it, growing delightfully sore.
And I moan.
I arch upwards, stretching my head back to give Draco all the access he needs as he mercilessly works on my neck. And I feel him, against my lower back. I wiggle my hips, careful not to disturb Draco's fingers, and rejoice in his growl. He retaliates with a bite.
"Oh, fuck," I moan, as the pain, that should really be stinging, only adds to the growing tension in my core. Draco kisses it better and I feel myself growing wetter. I confirm by briefly moving his left fingers away from my clit, dipping them lower and dragging some of that wetness back up to that delicious spot, where Draco, moaning into my ear, resumes the exact movements I showed him.
More confidently this time, I move his right hand and place the same two fingers at my entrance. I know four fingers would be too much, so I push down with my fingertips to signal to him what to do and Draco readily obliges, plunging his right middle and ring fingers into me, not easing up one bit with his left.
We moan in unison.
Draco rests there for a moment. He moves swiftly, sliding his feet between mine and pushing his knees under my legs to pry them further open, holding them apart. I squeal in surprise, the feeling unexpectedly pleasurable, as my toes barely touch the floor and I'm unable to close my legs. Not that I have any intention to.
Draco resumes his movements, massaging my clit, and starts pumping in and out of me.
"No," I huff, scrunching up my face. Draco falters and I feel him ready to retract, but before he gets the chance to, I breathe "curl them." and use my right hand to show him exactly how to, moaning loudly up at the ceiling as he does. I show him how to use his left palm to put pressure on my abdomen and aid the fingers inside me, and finally fully let go of his hands.
I feel the tension inside me pull tighter, feel my muscles flutter around his fingers, his breath on my ear, his mouth on my neck. My fingers dig into his lower arms, but he doesn't let that distract him, his fingers and mouth working relentlessly, deliciously, on my body. He moans against my shoulder when my muscles squeeze his fingers in anticipation.
It doesn't take long until the tension reaches its peak. I stiffen in his arms and Draco raises his head to look at me, not stopping his hands, as it finally breaks. I draw in a shuddering breath, delighting in the feel of his fingers as my muscles spasm around them, and moan up at the ceiling one last time as I ride the wave of pleasure, enjoy as it slowly ebbs off, as Draco slowly eases off.
I sigh and the muscles of my right leg twitch involuntarily as Draco pulls his fingers out of me. I close my eyes for a moment and rest my face against the side of his neck, my upper body sliding down slightly as it suddenly feels incredibly heavy. Draco stretches out his legs, and I let mine fall on top of his. When I open them again, I see Draco sucking on the fingers of his right hand and groan, that image shooting right back down to my core.
He looks at me, pulls his fingers out of his mouth and laces them through the hair at the nape of my neck. He pulls my face towards his and presses his mouth to mine. My eyes fall shut again and I reciprocate readily, opening up to allow his tongue entry. I can taste myself and moan into his mouth. His other hand finds its way up my torso and to my right breast, kneading it gingerly, playing with its nipple, he moans in return.
He pulls back after a few moments and rests his forehead against mine, not moving his hands. "Thank you," he whispers.
I frown, confused. "I think you got this the wrong way round, Malfoy," I say.
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. But when he looks back down his face is deadly serious. "If I don't make it back, this was quite the goodbye."
He might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water over my head.
"You will make it back," I respond sternly. He doesn't react. "You will." Still nothing. "Promise me, Draco," I say, cupping his cheek with my left hand.
His jaw tenses, his eyes stay closed. He doesn't promise, but kisses me again, chastely, in stark contrast to before, and it would break my heart if I allowed it to.
Draco glances down at his left wrist and takes a deep breath, "I need to go."
I tense in his arms and swallow hard. He takes hold of the towel still laying over his lap and wraps it back around me. He pulls his legs up and lifts himself into a squat, wraps one arm around my middle and pulls us both into a standing position. He's still hard and I make a point not to look at it.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the large bathroom mirror and my mouth falls into a silent "oh". My hair looks a right mess, my face and chest are still flushed, my lips swollen and there are bruises slowly forming up and down my neck. Draco catches my look.
"Hold on," he mumbles. He crouches down and feels for his wand under the tub. He waves it over the bruises on my neck, hiding them with a glamour charm, then waves it again over my face. I watch as the swelling in my lips goes down and am suddenly very aware of an entirely different pair of lips with a much more noticeable swell.
"Uhm…" I start, my prior shyness back with full force. "Could you…" I can't quite bring myself to finish that sentence, so I just gesture between both sets of lips, hoping he'll catch on.
Draco's face pulls into a wickedly proud sort of grin, and I feel about ready to slap him. But he doesn't comment. He waves his wand again, mercifully without pulling up the towel, and I feel the swelling between my legs ease up.
"Thank you," I say drily.
"Any time," he says, still with that grin plastered on his face. But not for long. He glances down at his watch again and says, "we have four minutes until I have to meet Greyback. Do you think you can do that?"
"I only need two," I say, trying to keep my voice light, but I don't quite succeed.
Draco clenches his jaw and waves his wand over me again. The towel transforms into the filthy old T-Shirt Alf conjured up for me before, complete with the blood stains from my bloody nose. Another wave, and the chain is back.
I look at myself in the mirror and frown, sniffing the T-Shirt. It smells neutral. I realize I smell a little sweaty from our previous escapade, but it's barely noticeable. "I'm way too clean."
"Maybe I allow you to bathe occasionally?" Draco raises an eyebrow. "I'm not the biggest fan of filth in my living quarters."
I ignore him. "And definitely not bruised enough."
Draco sighs. "Fine," he groans, very much not sounding fine. He cocks his head to the side and thinks for a moment, before he waves his wand again. I watch in the mirror as bruises appear on my cheekbone and temple, on my arms, thighs and one particularly nasty looking chafed bit of skin around my left ankle. None of it hurts though.
"Better?" He asks sarcastically. I sniff myself again. "I insist on you bathing," he says sternly.
I nod. There's a lump in my throat that won't let me get a word out as I glance at the chains. I take a deep breath and step into the corner of the bathroom, sit down on the ground and pick up the heavy metal cuffs, placing them around my ankles and clicking them into place.
Draco looks down at me, an unreadable expression on his face. "Ready?" He asks.
"No," I say honestly. "Promise me you'll come back," I repeat my request.
Draco's face doesn't change. He nods slowly, but I know he only says it to appease me. The ache in my chest is back and the lump in my throat feels ready to push out. I look up at him one last time, lean back against the wall, take a deep breath and close my eyes, focusing entirely on my house.
Everything is already arranged in preparation. Everything is carefully sorted. All I need to do is charm away the basement door. I don't double check. I've double checked countless times in the last couple days. There's no need to and it would only waste time. I quickly shove the last half hour into the basement, not daring to look it first.
I shut the door, lock it, padlock it, seal the edges, twice, remove the hinges – and realize I'm stalling. I don't want to lock it away, don't want to wake up in sheer panic. But I have no other choice.
Finally, I transform it into solid brick, merging perfectly into the outer wall of my mind, invisible, untraceable, gone.
I step back, enjoy the imaginary feel of grass under my toes, of a soft summer breeze around my nose. Things I haven't felt in month. I could stay here forever. I'd like to stay here forever, trapped in my own head, ignoring the rest of the world. The rest of the world isn't a nice place to be anyway. I might as well retract, have them admit me, let them cart me off to the Janus Thickey Ward.
Or just have them kill me.
I'm no use to them anyway.
"Oi, Potter." I sharp snap right in front of my face pulls me out of my peace.
I feel tears escape my eyes the moment I open them.
It's him.
He's got a hard-on.
That's no good.
"I'm leaving."
That's better.
"I'll be back in the morning," he says coldly. "Behave. If I hear from anyone that you've made a single peep, you'll be in for a rough day tomorrow. Is that clear?"
I nod.
"Good girl." He pats my cheek and I flinch slightly.
I should be used to it by now. But the sight of him still makes my entire body tense up painfully, ready for fight or flight.
Not that I can do either.
It eases up as I watch him leave, close the door behind him.
He doesn't lock it.
Doesn't need to.
I stare down at my ankles. The left one is chafed.
It should hurt, but I can't feel it anymore.
Can't really feel anything anymore.
Except fear. Or numbness.
I stare at the bathtub in front of me, my constant companion.
I know every single one of its edges.
It's the last thing I see when I fall asleep, the first thing I see when I wake up.
Unless he has plans.
I pull the curtain aside and stare at the grounds outside.
I've memorized them too.
The sun is setting. The moon is already starting to glisten in the sky.
It's full.
That's why he's gone over night.
I stare at it for Tituba knows how long.
The elf comes with food. I won't look at it.
I refuse to eat.
Force feed me. Or let me starve.
I don't care.
I wish he'd let me starve.
The elf comes back, Tituba knows how much later.
"Miss needs to eat."
I ignore it.
I always ignore it. It won't help me.
Clearly won't let me starve either.
"Miss?"
Fuck off.
It does.
The door opens again.
It's not the elf. It's taller.
I look away from the window. After Tituba knows how long.
"Hello beautiful."
It's her. His aunt.
She's not that tall. Just taller than the elf.
I don't move. I freeze.
I always freeze.
I know what she wants.
He's done it a million times.
But he's too much of a coward to end it.
She isn't.
She's got a knife.
It's silver. It's pretty.
I don't greet her.
Why should I?
"Not in much of a talking mood today, are we?"
Why should I be?
"No bother. I'll get it out of you either way."
She draws her wand.
I look back at the moon.
Let it be the last thing I see.
She grabs my chin. Pulls my eyes away from the moon. Presses my head into the wall.
It should hurt.
It's familiar, when she bursts into my head.
She's less gentle than him. Even though I don't resist.
There's no point.
She rummages through what's been rummaged through a million times. Pulls apart, tears apart, dissects, rips open.
Makes me live through it all again.
Takes pleasure in making me watch myself.
Making me watch him as he touches me.
I've grown numb to it weeks ago. Stopped fighting him.
He liked it too much when I did.
Her black eyes come back into focus.
"He's too easy on you doll."
I don't react.
She points her wand at my chest.
There's pain.
So much pain. So much searing, white hot, flaming, raging pain, I wish I could scream.
Maybe I do.
I wouldn't know.
My nerves scream when she stops.
She's sitting on my chest. Stares down at me. Points her wand at my chest.
It's a threat.
"You're hiding something, sunshine."
"Please."
My voice croaks. I must have screamed.
"Oh no, don't go begging yet, my love. It's much too early."
She does it again.
All I see is stars.
I wish it would end.
I wish he would come back.
He never does that.
"You're hiding something, deary."
I'm not. I wish I could tell her.
I shake my head.
She pokes her wand into my throat.
I take a gurgled breath. I'm crying.
Have been for some time.
And I scream.
"Too easy."
She's back in my head.
Except I don't see what she's looking at.
There's too much pain. Too much fire, too much acid, all around me.
She's plunged me into it.
I can't breathe. I just gasp.
"Tell me what it is, and this will all be over."
Over.
Please just let it be over.
"That's what you want, isn't it, darling?"
Yes.
I try to tell her, but the words won't come out.
There's too much saliva in my mouth.
I choke on it. Cough through a strangled breath.
She does it again. Plunges me back into my head, back into pain. Back into screaming nerves and hurt and agony.
She's got the knife now.
It shines in the moonlight.
It's silver. It's pretty.
It's at my neck.
She's angry. Pulls me up against the knife.
I can feel blood on my neck.
Slams me back down onto the floor.
It should hurt.
"Tell me, bitch!"
She's yelling know.
I don't know why.
I feel more blood.
I feel more pain.
I feel more blood again.
I don't see anything.
I don't feel.
I don't see.