Drarry - It Was All Just A Game (REWRITE - CLEAN 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 torturer, 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 excitedly. She pulled him by the arm as if she were taking him on a carnival ride to 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."

Holding back violent illness, Draco continued down pairs and pairs, the sheer level of noise in the room too overwhelming to bear as people shrieked and Death Eaters 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!" There was a sudden restriction of breath, as if a hand was around Draco's 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." He spoke Harry's name like it was a slur, like Voldemort was the only one dumb enough to be fooled by Draco's lie.

Bellatrix cast it on him again.

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

He gagged and coughed as the room spun around him.

Later in the evening, when he retired to 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 fingerprints instead of lips and teeth.

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 because that's what good boyfriends do.

But when he had to practice the spells, the guilt shoved out any loving thoughts from Harry, and instead brought forth the knowledge that Harry would hate him the second he saw him.

Further, it proved difficult to "fit in" when he pathetically tortured someone. There was no hiding his shaking hands or wincing, or broken voice. The word fear must've been painted on his forehead and big, bright red letters.

"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.