Dramione- When You Don't See Me

48. Dawn Day

Song: Oh Klahoma- Jack Stauber

*Warning*
*Harsh Topics Ahead*

~Flashback~

Draco sat in his cell like he'd been doing for these past three months. Lonely, cold, regretting his life. His mother and father were questioned early on and were somehow freed, his father only earning house arrest for the next seven years while his mother got a slap on the wrist.

Just like the rest of the less important Death Eaters, Draco waited in Azkaban until it was time for his trial. There were so many Death Eaters to go through, hundreds maybe a few thousand. His family never came to visit him despite the fact he was here because he tried to save them. When his family was in danger, he had to do anything in his power to bring them back to safety and, in return, got nothing.

He didn't even know why he did it, save people that didn't even put in the effort to visit him. Depression was taking him over, he didn't have many happy memories but the ones he did have were in the back of his mind due to dementors. Draco would just start crying sometimes, not even because one of the foul beasts would bring a terrible thought to life but due to his own head.

So much damage in not so many years. Just barely eighteen years old and already in Azkaban. Eighteen years wasted on learning the wrong things. He'd get in these thought spirals a lot, try to find rocks and rubble in his cell to try and end the suffering. He got so desperate and so close this last time that the guards decided his trial would come earlier than expected.

Sobbing, covered in bruises, and seeping his own blood, he sat in the restrained chair of the Wizengamot. He was half tempted to keep pulling at the cuffs around his wrist so maybe he could bleed out faster.

He pushed back the thought, focusing on his shoes. The Minister tried talking to him but he wouldn't focus, couldn't focus. That stupid face, that stupid pale face. "Draco." Stop it. "Draco." Get out. "Draco." YOU'RE THE REASON I'M EVEN HERE. "Mr Malfoy-" "SHUT UP!"

The Minister was startled at the outburst, "Mr. Malfoy-" "Stop it. Get out!" His eyes were closed as he continued to panic. Eventually he gave, "Get him out of my head!" He tried to pry his wrists from the leather restraints, letting his head fall to his chest in a sob when he realized more than material kept him there. "Please.." he pleaded.

The Aurors stood close by, waiting for instructions. The new Minister was a nice addition to the team, realizing the differences between those forced and under the imperius curse and those who chose this life themselves almost immediately. "Escort him out. Tell medical to administer sedatives. Mr. Malfoy is excused from primary sentence until trial."

Draco hadn't been listening, eyes widening as the Aurors took him away by his arms. He tried to escape them, failing as they were allowed to imperius him into cooperation. Again, the reached medical and he was strapped down again, legs as well this round.

They tried to give him a potion and he reacted as though it would be poison, biting his lip to keep his mouth shut. Nurses weren't allowed as many privileges as Aurors, the man examining him trying to hold his face still. "It'll take away the affects of the dementors," the healer told him.

Draco stared at him with wide eyes, tears still streaming as more memories came to him. "Don't be shy sweetie, come over. Now if this isn't who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure." "He killed you all anyways.." The healer was confused, concerned as Draco fidgeted to try and break his wrists free again.

"Mr. Malfoy, please, I can help you," he looked Draco in the eyes, holding the vial. The blonde shuddered, "Get away from me."

The man in all green almost dropped the vial in fright, "Mr. Mal-" "STOP CALLING ME THAT," he seethed, ashamed of his own name. They don't visit him and just expect him to keep being their prince, they had another thing coming.

-705