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

CHAPTER 44 - WORDSWORTH

When Draco woke, he felt too many types of pain to identify them all—not like his brain could at the moment. It was groggy and exhausting. Merlin, did he get hit by a bludger or something? Opening his eyes took as much effort as lifting a wingless dragon off the ground.

Draco was in his bed back at Malfoy Manor. Several nurses shuffled around him, casting spells and reading diagrams that came from Draco's body. All of them were too busy to notice he was conscious.

One nurse grabbed his left arm and took his pulse, her face bent in digust as she looked at his Dark Mark. Must've been hired from St. Mungo's.

"I hate it, too," Draco's voice broke, and the nurse jumped.

Her eyes widened as she called, "Get Mrs. Malfoy, quickly."

The pain radiated from all over his body, pulsing, throbbing, nerve pain, bone pain, sharp pain, chronic pain. But the worst was an ache in his chest he knew wasn't from whatever this was. It was a permanent ache, one there since February 25th.

The door opened, and Narcissa rushed inside.

"You all may leave. I need a moment with my son. Thank you for your services." As Narcissa sat down next to him, she grabbed his hand, though hers was already cold and shaking. "How'd you wake up, dear?"

"What's going on?" Even his vocal chords hurt.

"Draco," her voice cracked, "You were in an induced coma. I don't understand how you're not sleeping. It was supposed to last until August so your body could repair." 

"What's the date?" His jaw popped and vibrated as he talked, which wasn't normal.

"It's July Nineteenth. What's the last thing you remember?"

Draco swallowed, his throat burning. "Hogwarts. Then coming back to the Manor and..." it hurt to breathe, "everyone was celebrating..." Dumbledore died. "Someone grabbed me... Flashes of the cellar." Most of his body was numb, but the memories of people surrounding him, his own screams.

She rubbed his hand, her eyes watering as a heavy tear fell just as quickly as it formed. "There were six Death Eaters instructed to punish you for failing to kill Dumbledore. We didn't know, we couldn't find you for three days."

Oh, Draco remembered. He remembered it so heinously. "You didn't hear me scream?"

She choked and squeezed his hand. "They wouldn't let us out of our rooms. There are four different torture chambers here now, they keep building more. We heard screaming all the time, but we couldn't get to you, I--I tried."

His voice broke. "They were gonna kill me."

"They tried to, but you wouldn't die." She wiped her eyes as more tears streaked her cheeks.

Great, am I the Boy-Who-Lived now? "What've I missed," he asked.

"A few meetings. They're trying to go after Potter in Surrey, but there are plans to move him to a safe house. The Death Eaters wanted to intersect them doing that instead, so they don't go near the Muggles. Snape is getting more details."

No. Please not Harry. Don't go after Harry! "Someone has to tell Harry," he tried to get up, but every limb in his body was screaming. "Someone has to tell the Order. I need to help—"

"Don't you dare let anyone hear you say that," she whispered harshly. "Your allegiance is with the Dark Lord. They didn't do this to you because you failed your mission. They suspect your feelings for Potter are true and wanted to send the message. They'll be keeping their eyes on you."

But he didn't care. "I need to be awake, I need to heal, I need—" his jaw popped.

"Draco, they tortured you for three days. Seven herniated disks, four broken ribs. Your legs were snapped in half, so were your arms." Draco could feel the hands around his throat, and he didn't know if he was dissociating to the memory of it or if his throat was damaged too. "You're going to have to learn how to walk again. Function. We've been feeding you through a tube."