Escaping Darkness [Book 1 of Through Darkness and Light]

Chapter 14: Animal Within

Pain.

Blinding pain. Dull, aching pain. Pain from the top of his head, which had been clouted and banged against floors and walls, to his ankles, which were now shackled to the wall.

Draco fought the urge to be sick all over the floor again, as he huddled in the corner of the cell. Already, what pathetic excuse for a meal he had been given was in a puddle on the other side of his prison, half digested. Draco groaned, as his head throbbed, and he shivered, hugging his knees to his chest.

It was cold in here. Probably because they had taken away everything, clothing included. For security reasons, supposedly. Voldemort wouldn't want to risk his precious new play toy killing itself or hexing the guards.

He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, as he sat there, naked, and alone. Draco trembled slightly, stifling the sob that threatened to escape. He ached all over, from the numerous beatings, tortures, and...other things they had done to him. He felt dirty and used too; the cell wasn't the cleanest, and the things they made him eat...eugh.

The worst part was the fear and the utter lonesomeness.

He never knew what was going to happen next, each time someone entered his cell. He saw no friendly faces in this place. Not even the children of the Death Eaters. Voldemort no doubt wanted to break him by depriving him of any form of familiarity. Well, familiarity that was a positive influence. He recognized most of the Death Eaters that he came into contact to, for they were the elite.

Voldemort expected some sort of raid on Harry's part, which explained the heightened security around Draco. Draco didn't want to think about what the Dark lord had found out about their friendship.

Nor did he want to think about the dreams he was sending Harry. Draco shuddered again. Harry had confided in Draco a few weeks earlier, about how he could see into Voldemort's mind, and Voldemort into his. Imagine, sharing minds with that monster! And Draco had learned about what Harry thought of whenever he thought of Sirius Black, who was apparently Harry's godfather.

Harry thought it was his fault, because Voldemort had sent a false image and he had not even suspected a lie. Draco had managed to half convince him against such notions, but the guilt would never fully go away until Harry had come to terms with himself.

He knew from experience.

Draco sighed, curling into an even tighter ball, as he rested his forehead on his knees. Don't come, Harry, he begged in his mind. Whatever thoughts Voldemort sends you, don't come...I can't bear to see you die.

•••

The past week had flown by, yet it seemed as though each day was an eternity. Time had stopped having any meaning for him. He had meandered through each day, listless and uncaring.

His behavior concerned his friends, and he felt bad, but Harry had not been able to shake the feeling of guilt, hopelessness, and fear that welled up inside him. Over and over, he kept thinking about how he'd failed Draco, even though he'd promised that everything would be okay.

The only thing that grabbed his attention these days were any mentions of what the Dark lord was doing, Draco's name, and any mention of a rescue attempt.

Harry had not noticed the stares and whispers; those he did notice, he didn't care about. He thought he caught a few of the professors eyeing him as well, but he wasn't too sure about that.

He finally became sure, when Snape told him to stay after class one day.

Snape's black eyes narrowed, as Potter shrugged. The stern professor overheard Weasley's whispered complaint - "Harry, you didn't do anything...why are you in trouble now?" - and raised an eyebrow when Potter just sighed.