Draco Malfoy, Broken

Chapter 2 - Trapped

Time slid by, excessively slow. Draco tried to keep count of the days, but after a while, it seemed pointless. Every week, a human would come to his door and cast a cleaning charm over him and his cell, something he greatly appreciated. Every time, he would plead though the slot at the wizard or witch escorted by a Patronus to tell him anything. No one ever answered him. The isolation was crippling him. With only his overly eager, soul-sucking dementor as company, his willpower to survive was crumbling.

Near as he could tell, months had passed. Nothing had ever changed. Draco would wake up screaming, he'd calm down, eat, feel better, get an up-close and personal visit from his favorite dementor, pass out, wake up (again screaming), and slowly and listlessly fall asleep after chewing over his waking nightmares, before succumbing to his unconscious ones.

Sometimes, his subconscious would drudge up new vivid nightmares, but mostly they liked to play what he liked to call his fave five. Of course, it wasn't always the same scenes. The ones where he was tortured by Voldemort, Bellatrix and/or his father was the biggest contributor to his dream cycle. The memories with his mother in pain were a frequent part. Draco's early punishments at the hands of his father, appeared often. The Fiendfyre, wove in and out, too. Lastly, his various encounters with Potter seem to play an active role in his nightmare development, though those terrified him, for a completely different reason.

He wondered if he'd ever become immune to his nightmares. He still woke up screaming every night, regardless. His dementor could still send him spiraling into his worst memories. Nothing he did lessened the emotional pain. Every day he argued with himself about whether to carry on or not. Some days skipping his one meal and the next day eating them. But he was now on the longest hunger-strike since he arrived. He had a particularly bad nightmare a few nights ago that left him an emotional wreck for hours. It was an entire mash-up of his fave five in one non-stop, horrifying dream.

It started off with his father smacking him for mouthing off and throwing him down the stairs where Voldemort was. The Dark Lord stood over him telling him that he failed to kill Dumbledore and his mother was going to die. She was killed before his eyes, while he watched helplessly. He held the lifeless body of his mother as the Fiendfyre crept on him. He pulled her up out of the fire's reach, trying to climb the stacks, but her body slipped and fell into the flames. He cried out but the flames drew upon him, painfully burning his flesh.

Potter was flying above him, but this time he didn't save him. He said, "You deserve to die, Malfoy." He pulled out his wand and yelled, "Avada Kedavra!" It hit him and sent him spiraling into the flames. He woke up shaking and soaked in sweat, rolling off his mattress to the cold cement.

He hadn't gotten up off the floor since the dream. His back was becoming accustomed to it. Of course, that hardly mattered right now. He was dying. His body was weak, barely functioning. He couldn't stay awake. He heard the viewing slot open and felt the cleaning charm wash over him. He didn't move or try to speak to them. It was pointless. He just wanted to die and be done with it.

"What? No whining today?" the cleaning wizard grunted.

He didn't respond. The slot closed. His head lobbed to the side and he passed out.

The door opened. He was expecting his dementor, but through his heavy eyelids, he saw one of the wizards who cleans the cells above him. "Are you faking?" he asked, annoyed.

Draco stared at him, but couldn't respond. He found some relief that someone was talking to him, even if he were glaring at him. The wizard spat on the floor, angrily and walked back out. Draco, again, fell asleep. With no energy, he couldn't stay awake any longer than a few minutes. Four days without eating, after weeks of on-and-off meals, his body was smashed. He must have lost 30 pounds, which was a lot considering how small he already was.