Draco Malfoy,
This letter addresses all former students previously associated with Death Eater activity. We invite all minors engaged in criminal activity to resume their attendance in accordance with the terms of their probation and under the supervision of probationary aurors. Arrival on the grounds will require cooperation with a security and a scan of personal belongings. Restrictions will be enforced, requiring students to remain on school grounds at all times, with the exception of the Christmas holiday.
Completion of your final year at Hogwarts, in cooperation with the terms of your probation, will grant you full immunity from further legal repercussions. We believe in the possibility of redemption and hope that this opportunity will allow you to grow and reintegrate into the wizarding community.
Please be aware that failure to comply with these terms will result in a three-year sentence in Azkaban, along with a permanent Dark Magic Affiliation strike on your record.
We look forward to your cooperation.
Regards,
Minister of Magic
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Head Mistress
Minerva McGonagall
Lucius had ripped the letter up in his hands, he stormed off, muttering to himself about the outrageousness of it all.
Draco was honestly just happy to get out of this god forsaken manor. He was doing up his tie in the mirror.
He packed his trunk last night, it was ready to go by his door. He almost left this morning while his parents were asleep; he was debating about taking off without ever seeing either of them ever again.
It made his chest feel heavy, though. No matter how much he tried to hate them, he still felt guilt tugging him and telling him to stay put.
'Such an obedient little death eater's son. You're only good for following orders.' He thought to himself venomously. He scowled at his reflection. His eyes looked so much like his fathers...
Too much fat clung to his cheeks, and bulges of flesh stuck out in unflattering lumps around his thighs. His stupid fucking thighs. Fat just stuck there and mocked him.
His parent's icy blonde hair, cold icy eyes, he was a spitting fucking image of centuries of heinous witches and wizards. 'You don't deserve to go back. You don't deserve a second chance. You can't go to a class, serve a slap-on-the-wrist-sentence, and erase murder! What about all the lives lost by proxy? It certainly wasn't just Rowle!
I know you knew people were going to die when you took the mark. You were READY to murder people for HIM! You just wanted something to rub in Potters face! Then you got face to face with it and suddenly the pissant cowardly little death eater wasn't so big and bad, was he?' His face felt hot, it just made him so angry when he thought he couldn't stand to look at himself the mirror flew off the wall and shattered beside him.
That startled him a bit. He hasn't lost control of his magic since he was a kid.
"Draco-" Narcissa said, entering his room without knocking. "Oh." She said looking between him and the mirror. He was gazing still as a statue eyes fixed in rage at all the broken pieces of himself scattered on the floor.
"What's this?" Narcissa asked.
"It must have just fallen." Draco said, he swooshed his wand and the mirror pieced itself back together in the air and returned itself to the wall.
"Oh... well, we aren't allowed on the platform." She said quietly. "You won't be allowed to apparate back... We can't be on the grounds. You can still call by floo and write us when you know more about when they'll let you see us again." Narcissa said solemnly, affectionately adjusting Draco's robes.
Draco hugged her and nodded curtly at his father, who had appeared by his door. It took a lot to bite his tongue around them. Their stubborn slips, as they easily went back into their habits of making snide blood purity remarks.
It was as if nothing had happened. He wanted to spit in their faces for caring for and watching after Delphini with little hesitation. He felt a sensation like a magnet tug at the mark on his arm every time he was near Lucius.
His dad furrowed his brows looking him over.
Draco felt a small pang of guilt for how much he was telling them both off in head.
Lucius pulled him into a rare hug, and it surprised him, but he hugged his father back, "I'm sorry for everything that happened last year. I'm sorry for everything you're about to go through. I love you, Draco. I only want what's best for you." Lucius admitted.
When Lucius pulled away and saw the empty look in his son's eyes and his alarmingly haggard appearance was making something feel not quite right. He had tried to convince Draco to forget his last year and come work at the ministry with him, but Lucius couldn't pull the same strings he used to.
Draco would end up scrubbing the streets with squibs and house elfs if he didn't complete probation and reeducation. The thought of his pure blood son scrubbing the side walks with lowly scum made his blood boil.
"I know we've had our differences in how I've conducted myself, Draco..." Lucius pulled away with his hands on his shoulders. They were so bony and frail it was jarring enough for Lucius to pause and raise an eyebrow at his son.
"...One day, I hope you see the bigger picture." He finished. He searched his sons face for something... His wife might not be so paranoid after all, something didn't seem all that right.
'Whatever, you fascist smarmy prick. Just tell them bye and leave!' Draco's head spat.
"I'll write when I have the chance. Love you both," Draco waved off, he had to take floo to the station. Monitored floo networks were all previous Death Eaters had available to them as means of travel. The train was stationed, and he easily found his friends. Typically the Slytherin's would have been insisting they had the first board and compartments
This year, however former death eater children were required to go through a check point with house elves. All of their belongings were to be searched, along with body scans, it was only a quick spell, used to detect uses of spells or potions. After this they're to be fitted with tracking charms and required to stay on grounds until Christmas break.
"Are you serious?" It was Pansy Parkinson. "A lowly house elf, they're using their magic on witches and wizards?!" She shouted incredulously, while a particularly small and bright eyed house elf magically lifted her belongings. "Don't you dare see into my trunk, you filthy little-"
"That's enough, Parkinson!" Draco interrupted. "They're just making sure we're not smuggling in anything lethal, or surviving death eaters, they're not going to care about your birth control potions but you might want to take your mums flask out." Draco said, cutting her off. Earning a shocked looked from Parkinson and a few whispers.
Pansy's jaw swung open as she made a soft scoff. "You're going along with this now? I remember you bragging-"
Draco whipped his wand out, it was crackling with red electricity, and Parkinson shut her mouth.
"Wands down!" Shouted an auror over the remaining Slytherin's head.
'Which one of these pricks are worth going to Azkaban for?" Draco shook his head, as if he was thinking better of something he was about to do and quickly stashed his wand in his robes.
They were getting off too easy. He quietly took his turn, and found his best school mates. He avoided writing them, he honestly wasn't sure where they stood on their original philosophies when they had all first met.
"Draco, mate!" It was Blaise Zabini, they found and seated themselves in an empty compartment.
"We thought you weren't coming back!" Blaise said, he sounded surprised, but delighted.
"It was heavily implied I wouldn't be granted immunity without attendance as a sort of probation," Draco admitted, but he was up to volunteer to find out how to get the Hell out of his godforsaken home for a year.
"Same for everyone,"
"My dad's never getting out of Azkaban, they're putting him on trial for the death penalty." "Aw man, right after your mum, too? That's rough, I'm sorry mate." Blaise offered Theo's family had been penalized harshly, but he didn't go to the second trial. His mother hung herself in prison.
"Well, I'd probably be more torn up if I weren't filthy fucking rich for myself now." Theo said and grinned smugly confirming what Draco had thought.
Draco was perplexed, though. Knott had been with him the first week back after his mum killed herself in Azkaban. He was terrified to be home alone for an entire month.
"And you got your whole sick as fuck mansion to yourself!" Blaise added elbowing Draco and offering him a thermos.
"What's this?" Draco asked opening it and smelling the liquid. It smelled like pumpkin juice.
"Oi mate, that's an endless supply of fire whiskey to keep us going all year." Draco rolled his eyes to the back of his head but took a giant swig in spite of himself.
"You're bringing an illegally hexed thermos of contraband to your house arrest?" Draco challenged.
"It's only illegal if you get caught, mate." Blaise winked. Slytherins were masters of spells, and hexes that circumvented the rules. Mischief ran deeper in their blood than any wizard purity ever would.
"It was really easy to get through, all I had to do was put it in a bottomless satchel. I got it a few years ago at that Weasley brothers joke shop. I've never had a problem getting anything in through it." Blaise said, swigging his thermos around before taking another sip.
"Shame about them," Draco said solemnly. Theo and Blaise got quiet for a minute, but Draco changed the subject.
It felt normal, Theo, Blaise and Draco joked, they talked about their parents, and gossiped about class mates and the year of their lives they missed out on. It's like the world had fallen into place for twenty five minutes. Until the goddamn snack trolley showed up to put a pit in Draco's stomach.
"One of everything, love!" Blaise bellowed, he clearly needed something to soak up the booze.
"Ahh, finally. I haven't eaten all day!" Theo said, but he didn't notice Draco snap his head and glare at the statement.
Theo ordered two pumpkin pasties and a few assortments of various magical candies. Draco said he was fine.
It's been two days since he's last eaten, and he thinks he would like to do two more. It was beginning to feel more and more important to be the only one who actually hasn't eaten, when someone says that they have.
The sorting ceremony and entrance back into the castle was painful. Sneers and whispers were heard from the other houses. The Slytherin students simply hung their heads. None of us were talking to each other.
The entire castle, although rebuilt, still felt like the ruins he sat in last year.
Whispers were loud through the other tables, and went on until McGonagle cleared her throat.
"Welcome back, students. I'm so proud to see so many resilient faces returning to us. I understand that tensions may still run deep in-between houses. While, many students, are here under probationary terms. After all that was lost, I'm sure we are all ready to start rebuilding. There are many familiar faces, and many we have lost..." McGonagall trailed off.
'And were mercilessly slaughtered by us over here. Hi, everyone! Sorry we destroyed the world and killed all of your families! We're on probation now, it's fine.' -Draco finished for her bitterly in his head.
A few coughs and rustles could be heard until she swallowed and continued.
"Due to these circumstances, your new teachers will introduce themselves to you in your classes, and we will resume curriculum as normally as we possibly can. After the feast, Prefects will lead their houses to their dorms. With that, I wish every house the best of luck, in the competition for the house cup, and with that, let the feast begin!"
The plates filled, and Draco sighed. He put some salad and a little chicken on his plate.
"Really? Is that all you're having? What's the matter with you?"
Draco was pushing chicken around his plate when his head snapped up.
"What? What's the matter with what I'm doing?" Draco asked quizzically, meeting Theo's eyes.
"I haven't seen you eat all day. All you had was whiskey. What's wrong with you?" He asked somewhat hesitantly.
Draco's chest was fluttering a bit. No one's ever really expressly gotten onto him for his eating before. Is he getting thinner? Can people tell?
'No, dumb ass. You look fine! Don't let anyone make you think you can eat! You're fine! shut him up!' His head warned him quickly.
"I'm just not that hungry!" He hissed dismissively. That stupid voice in his head left him very cranky and difficult to talk to most days, he tried to just avoid people all together.
"See? That's what I'm talking about. What's happening right now, Draco? You're biting everyone's head off, and you look like hell. You have no reason to be snapping at me. I'm not picking a fight, I'm asking you, what's the matter? If you don't think we'd get it, we do. You think you're the only one who feels bad about teaming up with him?" Theo snapped.
"I don't want to listen to this," Draco sighed.
Theo and Blaise SAID they were over the pure blood bullshit and ready to restart their lives, so did his parent's, though. They certainly didn't stop looking down their noses anytime soon.
"You've just been..." Theo paused and looked Draco up and down"... acting really different." He said carefully. You used to talk to us. I know how difficult it's been after-"
Draco dropped his fork and pushed his plate away. " I don't know what you're getting at, and you don't know what you're talking about. It's not a crime to not feel that hungry. There's nothing wrong with wanting to keep to myself and fuck off from you lot. If I'm acting different it's probably a good thing, the way I acted before was how our lives got so fucked up," Draco cut Theo off and said this all in a whispered hiss to keep from screaming.
"There it is, I knew it was bothering you, too. We don't want anything to do with what happened, either-"
Like that it all flew through his mind, the dark mark, the first beginnings of the toe stubbing pain when the cruciatious comes on, Bellatrix laughing, Potter, Crabbe-
"ENOUGH!" Draco interrupted squeezing his eyes. He pressed his hands against his temple. He just needed his head to be quiet! At least around people...
Theo eyed Blaise to back him up.
"Draco, we all went through a lot. Theo's just trying to tell you we understand, and you can talk to us." Blaise tried, but Draco was getting up and making a point of ignoring them.
He made a beeline out the door, and let everyone else stuff their fat faces Draco instead ran to his dorm; right to his stash of Thinfinity Tonic. It was a simple old 70s potion Draco's mother had taught him. It was also the only one Draco has come across that wasn't a temporary transfiguration, or some weak variant of polyjuice that could only make the user appear slim.
The ministry banned the potion and one of it's crucial ingredients, ephedra, after concerns for heart attacks from abuse rose. Narcissa had scoffed and told him it was nonsense. She imported some for the garden in the manor just to always have the potion on hand.
It was relatively simple, but only somewhat effective. Disappointingly it will not last in place of food for the rest of eternity. Still, it was just a security blanket that was helping Draco believe in himself at this point. The effects on his appetite lessened and it became very mild. Draco got used to taking it daily.
He drank the vial quickly and prayed for the peace from food to come in his head. He used to need one vial every week and now he takes 3 or 4 a day. He still felt starving, it was beginning to get uncomfortable, almost like a hot iron was constantly burning the top of his stomach but he kept willing himself to ignore it. His brain kept trying to trick him to eat, though.
'It was just a feeling, it could be over come.' His brain reasoned, every time he began to imagine apple turnovers.
As long as he can always get to the potions hidden away in his room before the magnet pull of hunger forces him towards all the food hidden in his trunk... He spent almost an entire 2 days brewing potions, and charming bags to hide the food he's hoarded in in preparation for this year.
He used to open his trunk, take all the food out, then carefully place it all back and lock all the food back up several times a day before he eventually broke, ate until his stomach felt like it was going to explode, and then quickly found a place to get rid of the damage he'd done. These days, especially since returning to school and constantly being surrounded by people, he just went straight for his potion.
'Can't you go one week without food? People can go months! Why on earth are you so hungry? 4 days is nothing! See? You're too fat to have that kind of problem. It doesn't hurt. It's just the fat going away. Just don't fuck this up, how can anything ever go right again if you fuck this up?'
His brain was screaming at him. The voice shooting off rapid fire in his head the more intolerable being hungry got. He knew he was getting closer to his breaking point every hour that passed but the guilt for wanting food alone haunted him for as long as he can remember. For as long as sweets and his parents frowns of disapproval coincided.
He's always started his food routine the first day he was back anywhere. The one he started since he returned this time around was extremely strict, he decided to focus on himself, on improving, on being a better Draco than the one who came in and helped start this disaster.
A part of him resented that he ended up pushing himself to continue on in ways his parents would have approved. This couldn't touch other people, though. If he stopped eating, no one else would get hurt.
He wanted to stop thinking about that, and counted every single step he took to the library.
He has looked up and down every shelf for how to make his hunger vanish. A potion, a hex, anything! The only thing he found over and over were slight variants of the original Thinfinity. Ones with additional ingredients promising better wellness. None of them worth the extra cost or effort. A simple glamour spell would make Draco look presentable and hide his disgusting lard from the outside world, but he didn't deserve to look good.
He had to do this right and make himself good.
This year it was just a lot more balls-to-the-wall with no periods of respite. He used to be able to play quidditch, tease Potter and the other Gryffindoors, he used to look forward to things. He used to not give in so easily to the angst of it...
Draco has sat in the library, and in book stores for a good portion of his life scrolling through magazines and books. He's always desired to be perfect and thin
His mothers words ring clearly in his head, 'there's no trick to weight loss, if magic could get rid of your fat arse, there wouldn't be a fat witch or wizard on this planet. It's all down to you and you alone. If you're not capable of controlling what you put in your mouth, then what can you control?' Narcissa Malfoy was a fountain of wisdom when it came to appearance and well being, things she thought were one in the same.
Every night, Draco decides the only way to do it in the end would be sheer force of his will power. He would try in vain to brainwash himself into how much he loved hunger. How much he was supposed to like being hungry.
He essentially falls asleep to a script in his brain, reassuring him that tomorrow he won't eat. Tomorrow will be the day he stops until he dies. Then every day he wakes up, and he has to fight and trick and avoid the part of his brain that told him to eat. He was about to give up and pace up and down the staircases, but he stopped just in front of the forbidden section.
Maybe one more try... He wordlessly lit his wand and glanced up and down the titles. Maybe just one. Maybe some kind of starvation or famine curse or potion?
'Maybe you just don't want to move your fat lazy arse up and down stairs.' His mind chastised.
Draco picked out a few promising books on hexes and curses, among them: The Heretic Cookbook: Banned Hexes, Curses, and Potions for Magical Mayhem. Which honestly sounded interesting in and of itself. He snuck the books under his cloak and wordlessly lit his wand to sneak back out of the library.
"Malfoy? What are you doing here this late?" Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew that voice.
"I don't know why I thought I wouldn't see you in a library, Granger. How long am I getting detention for?" Draco sighed, defeated.
He turned around to face Granger, her face was eerily lit by their wands. The shakiness of Draco's hand causing light to flicker across Hermione's face, she rolled her eyes and smiled in spite of herself.
"I can't give you detention." Granger admitted, "I'm not prefect, head girl or anything, Malfoy. I took it easy this year." She admitted solemnly.
"Makes sense to want to concentrate on what you have to get done, I'm sure, 'hero of the wizarding world,' will look better on any resume than 'head girl', anyway. If that's the case, though what are you doing here?" Draco asked.
"Our first quarterly is in 3 months, I lost track of time familiarizing myself with the material." Granger explained.
Draco nodded, "that would sound suspicious coming from anyone else but you."
"Uh... Are you okay?" Granger asked, one of her eyebrows lifted upwards and the top of her lip raised as though she were confused. She sounded more perplexed than concerned, as Theo had. It made the question a lot less intimidating, though it did irk him.
Draco's entire head rolled with his eyes and he tossed his arms in exasperation,"Yes! Jesus Christ! What?! What is wrong with anything that I am doing? Why is everyone asking?"
"That just... was cordial. It's strange and unlike you." She admitted, her expression entirely blank. "That also sounds like that's an argument you've made more than once," she added as an afterthought.
Draco sighed. He didn't want to talk to anyone, especially not her, especially not bringing up last year. He wasn't offended by Grangers blood status. It wasn't that she was a muggle born, Potter and his friends just made Draco's stomach sink every time he saw them. Hermione's voice alone made him feel like he was listening to it from the time in his manor last year, and- Draco visibly cringed, and put his defenses down, he really did want to tell them how sorry he was.
"Look, I'm not doing that with you. Not you, not Weasley, Potter or anyone. Not anymore," Draco started, looking to the floor and trying to choose his next words carefully.
"I just regret everything that I did... All of those things I said, the way I was such a pompous little git. I'm lucky I still have anyone who can tolerate being around me at all. I was either just obeying my family like a stupid perfect obedient little puppet, trying to impress all my friends, or just really scared. I know you don't have any reason to trust me or believe me. I just went along with everything. I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know who to be." Draco started explaining. Considering everything he had put them through this felt stupid and pointless, but he went on-
"It's like a strangers thoughts entirely took over my head after I saw everything that happened. It's like I was realizing I never thought my own thoughts, and the sky was really blue when I thought it was red. I thought everything I did was right and good because we were going to win, I thought that was all that was important and mattered, then I was surrounded by all this death and it was our fault. I supported it. I was on the wrong side. If we won, then THAT was all winning was-"
He took a deep breath and turned his head away from Granger, he held the tears prickling his eyes, he needed to stop talking before he got anymore emotional. "I'm just, I'm sorry. I really am." Draco whispered the last part to her.
Grangers face started to soften before her eyes narrowed into slits and she opened her mouth to speak but looked like she was considering her words carefully as well.
"Well... Malfoy... When you tried to capture us," Draco winced slightly as she said this. "I thought you were a lost cause, but after everything that happened I understand you being scared and trying to help your family. It is... quite a complex situation, honestly. On one hand you were essentially groomed into behaving and believing in certain ways, but on the other you're a complete prat who had plenty of other opportunities to realize as much before it went as far as it did. I always saw you and most of the other death eaters as band wagoners who were just in it all for themselves. Which I see as lesser of a crime than pure unadulturated hatred, but the lesser of evils are still evil," Hermione bit, but she liked herself a little less for the statement when she saw the wounded look on Draco. One that seemed completely alien on his face.
Hermione took in the state of Draco before adding, " you wouldn't have given Harry your wand if you were as bad as they were. Although, I feel like there were plenty of times you knew you were wrong." Hermione added thoughtfully, she felt uneasy, like she could be walking into a trap, but she was also afraid to discourage his breakthrough.
"No, Granger, I did! I did know I was being the bad guy and wrong, but-" Hermione held her hand up to silence him.
"HOWEVER," she continued, "I did think I saw a change in you before, and have several times since being back. I want you to think differently, Malfoy. That's all any of us really wanted. People like you to pull your head out of their smug arses. I really guess I just don't know what to say," She trailed off.
"I know, and I don't want or expect forgiveness for any of it. I mean I wish I could be. I was a spoiled smug little coward, Granger. I acted high and mighty but I always knew I was just a pathetic little puppet, I just put a lot more value on praise than it was worth, " He finished miserably, and started walking away from Granger.
Hermione looked down for a moment before her head perked up. "Wait!" She started brightly, startling Draco. "Come down this way," she said taking off through the muggle literature isle waving at Draco to follow her.
She lead him to the History section and carefully selected three books to place in his hands. "Hitler Youth: Raised by Hatred."
"Muggles." Granger said pointedly. "Muggles who are exactly like you and your friends. These detail the crimes inflicted on people for being born differently. You should go through all of them. There have been many people like you. You're right I shouldn't trust you." Hermione said pointedly, looking at Draco with a serious expression.
" Because the thing about you, and the thing about the muggles in these books is that you just go along with whatever side suits you best. You're not evil, you're a pissant little coward, Malfoy. You need to understand why that makes you as dangerous and wicked as Voldemort. I will give you one last chance to be trusted, we all were just kids, I'm sure you've had many opportunities to see the error of your ways. I just don't know if I'm ready to believe you accept the consequences." Granger said with a shrug turning to exit, leaving Malfoy to stare at her exiting while he held the books she picked out in his extended hands.
Harry and Ron were the last two up in the common room when Hermione emerged from the portrait.
"We almost started on our work without you," Ron said barely looking up from his game.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "no you weren't." She said coolly, taking a seat beside them.
"I ran into Malfoy in the library, it was so strange." She started, Harry and Ron were looking at her now. "What happened?" Ron asked she could hear him gearing up to fight just by his tone.
"No, nothing like that," She said rolling her eyes and shaking her head, " He apologized." She continued, "He didn't hunt me down to apologize, we just ran into each other. He said he accepts he was on the wrong side of the war, he said a bunch of things. Part of me still wanted to spit in his face. I didn't even know what to say to him. I knew it was going to be rough to spend all year with the Slytherin's in the castle, but it's like half are still living as if Voldemort is at large, and the rest can't look us in the eye."
"Honestly, though... we should probably encourage them to change if they act like they want to," Harry said thoughtfully. "Wouldn't it be better to have a bunch of people who were decent deep down see how fucked up it all is? Isn't reformation the goal?"
"I overheard some other Slytherins talking about Voldemort. It made me so pissed my wand started to spark... " Harry continued, "They said, ' Voldemort had the right idea, he just went about it the wrong way.' They were fifth years, but we all just lived it. Their families are in jail, so many fucking people died from the way they think, and they still want to justify it! It's like everything we fucking did was all for nothing and it's just going to start right over! We literally only took down one of them when I killed Voldemort. They're still walking around thinking exactly the same way. If any of them are going to change, Malfoy would honestly be the best one to make an example out of," Harry ranted.
"Yeah... Even if it is Malfoy. I guess there were times he helped us out. I can kind of see it, he gave you his wand, he covered for us, it doesn't count for nothing. It's still Malfoy, though. It wouldn't even be worth it if he switched sides just to cover his arse. That's the kind of slimy git we're talking about with those lot, you know? I know you want to see the best in everyone, mate, but don't get your hopes up." Ron supplied, the corner of Harry's mouth pinched to the side and he lifted his eyebrows up as he nodded in agreement.
"Now that I think of it, though..." Ron continued, "he was paired with us in potions. He didn't say one word to me the entire time unless it was to pass him something. He looks like shit. Kind of like the sick shaky muggles when we go to the platform every year. If he doesn't start anything, then it's probably best we shouldn't, either. I think I'm giving him too much credit, I just can't see that entitled, poncey, selfish lying little daddy's boy being anything else deep down. "
"Can any of them really change?" Hermione scoffed, "The animosity has hardly gone anywhere, and the school almost seems more divided than ever. Most of the people in our year feel differently, but there are still so many first and second years who think it's our fault their families are dead or in jail, you know it wasn't for nothing, though, it just won't ever be over..." Hermione said shrugging, pulling her school books out Harry and Ron just nodded in agreement, as they got ready to copy her notes.
Draco spent the whole weekend learning about the Holocaust. He was locked away in his dorm, mesmerized by the atrocities. He loved how something besides eating and food was finally grabbing and keeping his attention. It was getting more and more difficult each day to be interested in anything that wasn't about food, exercise, calories, or eating. He was honestly bored of it but there is still no where to escape. Everything set it off.
His mind was constantly chanting at him.
'You're not hungry, you're not hungry, you're not hungry.'
'If I throw it all up, if I make sure I only eat foods that I can get out easily?' Draco bargained to himself...
'THAT'S FOR EMERGENCIES NOT RECREATION, YOU GODDAMN PIG.'
He was fucking exhausted. Every time someone spoke to him it had to go through the words in his head first.
Sometimes he wondered if it was because Bellatrix was still in there. Poking around at his head. Finding all the things that bothered him and screaming more curses at it.
When the last wave of hunger passed, he tried to pay attention and immerse himself in Granger's books for a distraction.
He had been entirely engrossed in the book on Hitler Youth in particular. It sent a chill down Draco's spine as he remembered all the summer camps he and his pure blood friends attended.
He felt horrible and stupid for his ignorance. It almost felt like it was coming out of his body and mortification was freezing him. How did he let himself follow so blindly?
He had no idea so much had been going on in the muggle world. He never really even thought about it. There was so much language he didn't know, and this book was about muggles, and written by muggles! He had been lead to believe they would have been so intellectually impaired there would be no way a muggle would be able to put an entire book together by themselves. Every page just lead to more and more questions about every single thing he had ever been taught.
He couldn't get past the thought of what he would think about this hadn't Bellatrix ever gotten into his head. If she didn't pull at all the strings that could wire Draco to see how worthless he was, how evil he had been, if she didn't make him want to suffer with her curses, would he even be able to have this empathy he felt for the muggles and muggle borns who suffered at their hands?
He thought of himself and muggles as entirely different creatures that couldn't share the same capabilities of consciousness. He didn't understand them as other people.
They were just as intelligent, just as capable, and just as competent. He learned they had weapons, bombs, guns, the books referenced all sorts of gadgets and weapons he had never even heard of. Could the muggles fight wizards? They blew up entire cities, would their weapons actually hold a candle against magic? Draco could hardly wrap his head around it.
He reached a page with photographs of the victims; he stopped dead.
Memorizing each and every one of their bones. It was horrible, it was disturbing, and even though Draco indeed did feel a tremendous amount of guilt and pain for humans suffering at the hands of people who were exactly like Draco and his family... He was morbidly fascinated by their ribs and collar bones.
Draco almost felt bad that his cheeks weren't as sunken in as theirs. He had layers and layers of fat, and it was all from eating off the top of human suffering in his own world. Draco's brain would find a way to use this as a conduit to how it effects food and eating.
A chapter on the holocaust and the concentration camps victim's average diet put his mind's proclivity to his destruction on overdrive. It's like someone injected his existing self hatred with adrenaline and steroids and let it attack him. Especially the chapter on starvation...
Auschwitz victims typically consumed 750-1300 calories a day of spoiled food, saw dust, and an herbal coffee supplement.
He read that line over and over and over again. Those numbers completely bored themselves into his mind, he made sure of it.
'And what were you at? 600-1700? If you go over 1300 from now on purge no matter what!' His mind decided.
He could look like them if he ate that much? That's quite a lot, how much were they burning, though?
He flipped through the pages of the books back to pictures of survivors. He lifted his shirt up in the mirror and traced his own ribs. Or at least where they would be if mounds of hideous fat weren't covering them. He slipped his shirt off as he kept feeling around his body for bones. Sometimes he thought he could find one, or saw the shadow of one, he squeezed bits and chunks of flesh, and noted what needed to be done to look better. He kept the book of their gaunt haunting expressions and piteous bodies open for comparison. He felt guilty and at fault, if his bones were close to being that prominent would he feel better? Would his head let him live if he made himself suffer that bad?
'You're a long way off. Those were victims of people like you. How dare you be any healthier?' He hissed to himself he pinched a lump of fat under his ribs between his fingers.
"What are you doing?"
"JESUS CHRIST!" Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at the intrusion, Draco turned around, it was Theo. "Why the fuck didn't you knock?!" Draco slammed the curtains around his bed shut and pulled his shirt back on.
When he reopened the curtains, dressed again, Theo still hadn't said anything but was staring directly at Draco, wide eyed. Draco couldn't quite identify his expression it was surprised and... scared, maybe?
Deciphering the way his friend was looking at him was really frustrating. Draco wasn't sure what make of it, "What? Just tell me?! You look like you want to tell me something, just say it!" Draco accused exasperated.
"What's been going on with you, Draco?" Theo asked directly. His tone was hushed and serious as if Draco hadn't snapped at him at all.
"What are you talking about?" Draco sighed sitting on his bed.
"You don't look well... Other people are starting to talk, it isn't just me." Theo whispered carefully.
Draco didn't want to listen to it, "Let them talk! Didn't we just have this fucking conversation? Why won't you dro- WHAT?! Why are you looking at me like that? What? What's wrong?!" Draco asked exasperated when he met Theo's gaze, the way he was eyeing him up and down with his lips pressed together and started every sentence cautiously was making Draco feel nervous.
"I just don't..." Theo was clumsily tripping over his words, he wanted to make sure he didn't run him off again, "Draco. You look really sick. Just come have a good meal with us, mate. Something's wrong," Theo said.
Butterflies began fluttering in his stomach instantly at that remark. Draco blinked and considered what Theo was telling him. His anger started to dissipate, he walked in front of Theo so quickly to conceal how he had to hold back a smile. He looked sick, and he thought meals would make it better? Did Theo think Draco was thin?
"Maybe, you need Pomfrey to see you, yeah? You look... like something is really wrong," The threat of a healer was all Draco needed to remember his anger.
"Nott, did you really barge in on me just to interrogate me?!" 'Slimy fucking lying Slytherin git,' Draco's head added as he quickened his pace to lose Nott behind him.
If there was anything he learned from aunt Bella... Draco hated himself for this, but he snuck a glimpse into Theo's mind. It was briefly, and he knew it would go entirely undetected. Draco hated using the powers his aunt taught him. Her methods were so effective and smooth he could glimpse into peoples minds wandlessly for tiny bits of information he needed. It's how Draco realized Theo definitely thought Draco was thin and feared for his life.
Draco wasn't sure how he felt about this. Theo was upset, and he supposed he ought to be too, but for some reason this overjoyed Draco in a way he hadn't been in a very long time and filled him something else he hasn't felt in an even longer while.
Theo sighed, he resolved to be patient, but had a strange feeling in his stomach when he saw the books Malfoy was looking at while he picked at his bones in the mirror. It was full of still pictures. Muggles who were as thin and sick looking as Draco was... For only a moment Draco saw how thin Theo thought he was... But Draco didn't return the shocked and upset feelings about his body when he saw himself through Theo's eyes. Draco felt proud of himself.