Draco Malfoy, Broken

Chapter 57 - Slipping

57 – Slipping

Published: 9/21/2019

Updated: 10/6/2019 for grammar/spelling issues

***TRIGGER WARNING*** child abuse

Draco cowered as his father approached him. Some part of him knew that it was a dream, but it felt real enough. He was smaller, shorter as his father towered over thirteen-year-old him.

"I'm sorry, father... there was nothing I could do!" he whimpered, backing into his canopy bed.

"Do you know much money I spent on those Nimbuses?!" he growled, grabbing him by his shirt.

"I tried! Potter just got there quicker...."

"That half-blood, do-gooder beat you, again! I might have been able to overlook your performance last year, as the tournament was canceled. But you had ample opportunity to improve and you have failed me!"

"I'm sorry! Please, I'll try harder," Draco begged uselessly. He already knew that he was going to pay for his failure the moment he lost.

Lucius let go of him and smiled menacingly. Draco took the opening to try to back away, but Lucius took out his wand with a few words and Draco's hands were tied over his head to the bedpost. He stared in fear as his father turned his cane into a whip, with nine tight, thin cords dangling.

"No... please," Draco whispered.

"Turn around!" he ordered, in a voice that meant he was going to be merciless if he disobeyed.

Draco did not resist and just slowly rotated his wrists in the rope. The last time he didn't listen, he used the Imperius Curse on him. He couldn't see his father, but he felt the sting of cords, hitting his skin. It only bruised at first, but soon welts formed and were burst open with more strikes. He even switched to hit him from the other side to crisscross the cuts. His father just kept hitting him and he stopped crying out, now numb with the pain. He closed his eyes and felt something change.

"What are you going to do? Are you going to fight back?" hissed the Dark Lord.

Draco had gone deeper into the pit, slipping farther. He froze and shook his head. He couldn't fight back. There was no fighting back, not after Karkaroff. He felt Voldemort's long fingers on his shoulder.

"Please..." he cried, as he shook his head.

"You're not going to disappoint me, again, are you?"

"No, I promise... just don't...."

"Don't? Are you telling me what to do?"

"No... please!"

"Draco," his master purred.

Draco shook more, tears coming out and heard his name being called. "Draco! Draco! Wake up!"

Draco wrenched his eyes open and it was dark, but he could see Harry was in front of him. Harry had taken a hold of his hands, held tightly against his chest.

"It's just a dream, Draco... calm down."

Draco slowly got ahold of his breathing. He knew it was a dream, but it still got his heart racing. He dropped his head into Harry's chest. Harry slowly wrapped his arms around him, taking great caution as he was doing it. Draco let a few tears out and Harry whispered soft words in his ear that he couldn't make out. His control had slipped in a bad way. That was close, too close, and that had been the case for the last three nights, ever since Umbridge had ripped open all those old sores. Draco hadn't managed to patch the spots in his mind, yet.