Drarry - It Was All Just a Game (REWRITE - MATURE VERSION)

CHAPTER 29 - HIDING HIS HEART

Draco learned very quickly that dying would have been the better option.

The days started well before sunrise and well after sunset.

He oscillated between being the one tortured, and being the torterer, though most of his day was spent as the former.

He was always instructed to go to the Ballroom by Lucius's study, where a crowd of Death Eaters were discussing the previous day's adventures (who they tortured and killed, when, where, how loud their screams were, etc.) while others were already practicing for what they were going to do on their next trips.

Bellatrix looked at him hungrily and excited. She pulled him by the arm as if she was taking him on a carnival ride to a Amycus and Alecto Carrow, who were standing in front of two young adults. They were both shrieking on the floor as Amycus and Alecto twisted their wands, their skin suddenly appearing burned though there were no flames.

"A personal favorite spell of mine," Bellatrix smirked, "Except crucio, of course."

Draco continued down pairs and pairs, the sheer level of noise in the room being too overwhelming as people screamed and Death Eater's laughed.

"We'll start you off easy, dear," Bellatrix stopped him in front of Yaxley.

Draco went to reach for his wand using his shaking hand, but then he heard a sharp, fast, "Obfoco," and then Draco felt a sudden restriction of breath, as if a hand was around his neck in a bruising grip.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe—Until finally, Yaxley released.

Draco gasped and tears filled his eyes. "Why are you," he coughed more, "on me?"

"Surely, you need to know how it feels so you know which one is the best to use on Potter." And then Bellatrix cast it on him again.

Draco choked and choked and choked until his face went purple and he fell to the floor. Only then did she release him.

He gagged and coughed as the room spun around him.

Later in the evening when he retired in his room, Draco saw the bruises on his neck and remembered the only other time he'd been bruised there was when Harry had given him loving, pleasurable hickeys. Now, the bruises looked like finger prints.

But yet, that spell was oddly the easiest of all of the Dark Magic he'd learned over the following weeks. They didn't use the lethal spells on him, though he watched the lethal spells occur (all on people who looked like Harry) and by time June passed, Draco had broken a bone in every one of his limbs, had all of his blood taken out of his body and put back in it while completely conscious for it, screamed until his vocal chords broke, and cried himself to sleep every single night.

And that wasn't even the worst of it, because when he himself was tortured, he took the pain. He thought of Harry and took the pain. But when he had to practice the spells, the guilt shoved out any loving thoughts from Harry, and instead made him know that Harry was going to hate him the second he saw him.

It was difficult to act like he fit in when he tortured someone. You could see the visible wincing and fear as Draco raised a shaking hand and barely whispered the spell.

"Just as weak as your father," they would tease him, and then torture him. Greyback's favorite spell was one that formed a whip through a magical light and it stung worse than a leather one. They'd slash his back and his legs randomly. Oddly enough, that one didn't leave scarring like the others, but the pain lingered for weeks.

The first full day of Draco having to torture Muggles was a disaster. He wasn't good at it at all, though that was technically a good thing in the context of being a good person. But in the context of living in a torture camp, it was a very bad thing. The second they started screaming, Draco panicked and stopped the spell, making all of the Death Eaters rage and tease and laugh at him, and that was their kind responses. Draco could see their fingers lingering to their wands, ready to hex him as punishment.