Draco Malfoy, Broken

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.

He barely registered the door opening again, and was not awake when they took him out. He woke up when he felt a potion being poured down his throat. He tried to resist, but he found himself being immobilized.

"Stay still, shitbag!" grunted a voice at his side, who continued force-feeding Draco a potion.

It burned throughout his body, before he felt relief for his pain. His eyesight cleared and he could see his surroundings. He was clearly in a hospital ward. He struggled against the Immoblius Charm placed upon him. The sense of defenselessness overcame him and he started hyperventilating.

"You're certainly a little bitch, aren't you?" a wizard responded to his right. "You'll stay under that spell, while you stay here. I won't have any of you Death Eaters have free movement. I sure as hell wouldn't have even bothered saving you, if I wasn't required to. You all should have been killed after the war."

Draco's heart clenched. "I d-"

But the wizard pulled out his wand and growled, "Silencio! Like I want to hear a murdering, traitor talk. You'll be back in your cell soon enough. Just a few more nutrient potions will sort you out and get you out of my hair. You assholes aren't going to take the easy way out. Fucking coward."

Draco looked at the wizard, wide-eyed in fear. He had been helpless before at the hands of Lord Voldemort and his father and this was so much worse. He trembled against the charm, but he couldn't break it, his powers were taken. His eyes watered and he tried to fight his way out, but it was useless. His guardian merely laughed at his panic and left him there, frozen. After a few hours, the panic subsided. He tried to breathe in and out slowly, until he finally regained control of his breathing. It took even longer to fall asleep. When he did, his dreams were brutal and he woke up screaming, or he would have. He thrashed against the charm that bound him still and rendered him speechless. His heart felt like it was going explode.

"You're awake. Great. Time for round two."

"Please," he mouthed desperately, but the wizard just mocked his impotency.

"Should have known you'd be the first one to break. Your aunt didn't break. You couldn't even make three months."

Draco's grey eyes lowered and his heart thudded to a near standstill. He was never getting out of here. Too many people testified against him. Every Death Eater that they caught were far too willing to point fingers at him, naming him the Death Eater that helped Voldemort kill Dumbledore, tortured other Death Eaters for his master and had fought with the Dark Lord at the Battle of Hogwarts. The sentence put down by the Wizengamot said 50 years to life. He was at three months. He couldn't even kill himself, properly. Trapped. He was so trapped. He had nothing left to give.

The heartless guard poured a nutrient potion down his throat and left him there alone. He swallowed hard. He physically felt better, but mentally was broken more than ever before. His time under Voldemort's thumb had been painful and terrifying, but there was some reprieve and some human interaction, albeit vicious and cruel interactions. Now his only companion was a guard hellbent on making his prison stay as painful as possible. It even occurred to him that the guard may be the reason for his personal dementor.

But there was nothing he could possibly do about it. He shut his eyes in vain hope that peace would find him in his sleep.

He was in his room at Malfoy Manor. He was frozen in his bed. The snake, Nagini, was curled on the floor. He was trying to remain as still as possible. Though he had never seen the great serpent attack any of them without the Dark Lord's say so, he still was very much afraid, especially after watching her eat one of the professors of Hogwarts right in front of him. She lifted her great head and came onto his bed. He still didn't move as she slithered across his chest. She raised up further to look down at his face. She hissed and her tongue touched his face.

"Nagini..." the Dark Lord called and went on to hiss to the huge snake. "She senses your fear, young Malfoy. Sit up. Now." Draco did as he was told. Nagini fall to his side, in a series of hisses. "You failed in your mission. Lucky for you, Severus took care of it, or else I'd be feeding you and your mother to Nagini. You know what will happen if you fail me, again?"

Voldemort issued more hisses to his pet, who started coiling herself around Draco. His eyes locked onto the wall in front of him, he controlled his breathing and tried to shut down his emotions. Nagini looped around him three times, before tightening her body.

"Though I have made her poisonous, Nagini is a constrictor first. She can crush you like a cockroach. Well, Draco? Will you fail me, again?"

Draco meant to say, "No, my lord." But nothing came out. His voice was gone. Silenced forever. Reality and memory mixing.

"Answer me, Draco!" the Dark Lord ordered.

Draco tried to speak, again, but he could say nothing.

"Fine, Nagini!" he growled and the snake tightened and tightened. His chest broke with pain and he tried to cry out, but again, nothing came out. He wanted to beg him to make her to stop, but he couldn't. His ribs broke and he snapped awake. He tried to curl up, but he was still trapped. His eyes filled with tears.

"Crying again? You are a fucking crybaby," the wizard grunted. "But we are on the last potion. Then you can go crawl back to your hole, with the other rats."

Draco cut off the water works. He was too wrecked to fully feel shamed by the wizard that tended him. It was more of an automatic response to not show emotion. Malfoys aren't supposed to cry. Showing emotions only brought more punishments. The wizard glared at him with obvious hatred as he poured the last potion aggressively into his mouth. Draco choked on the potion as it got caught in his throat, but the wizard didn't stop. He smirked as Draco struggled to swallow it. When the potion was finished, his attendant dropped the goblet on his head. It smarted, but didn't hurt him much. It was more of an insult than anything else.

"Whoops, I would apologize, but Death Eaters don't deserve apologies," he growled. Draco looked away, not letting his emotions take over. "What? No tears? You want to do some begging? That's always rich. I like it when vermin beg."

Draco drew upon his time under the watchful eye of the Dark Lord. Don't respond. Don't acknowledge his presence. This wizard wasn't Lord Voldemort. Regardless of how abusive he was, Draco couldn't believe he'd kill him or seriously wound him.

The wizard put his face in front of him, so Draco had no choice but to stare at the guard. He looked at him fully for the first time. He wore dark gray robes. He was in his thirties and had short, cropped hair. His brown eyes were hungry, vindictive. He was riding a sort of power kick. Draco tensed, as he'd seen this look many times before. More pain and humiliation was coming and it wasn't going to stop. Draco tried to stop the trembling and the wizard smiled at his cowardice.

"You want to know what my name is? I shouldn't tell you, but I think it's only proper you know why. My name is Anthony... Anthony Vance. My older sister was killed by you scum. You all should have been executed for your crimes, but I do find some relief in knowing that you'll be suffering for the rest of your life. You'll never know a moment's rest, Death Eater. I'll make sure you're never free. You and the others... are mine."

Draco tried to say something, but he was still silenced.

"You know. As much as I enjoy hearing you cry, I think I'll leave you like this."

Draco paled and his emotions boiled through. His heart raced and Anthony Vance laughed darkly at his fear.

"Time to go. Back to your cage with the rest of the animals," he growled. He pulled out his wand and waved him over. Cords wrapped around his hands and looped around his legs. Another wave and he was released from the Immobolius Charm. Draco was shaking violently, now that he was free to. "Get up, now. I'm not going to carry you back up there. Make any stupid moves and I'll curse you."

Draco struggled to sit up against his bonds, but managed. Vance huffed in impatience. Draco's feet found the floor and he struggled to stand. The potions restored his health, but his muscles were still weak. He stood up and Vance pushed him toward the door. Draco stumbled, but caught himself. Vance pushed him though the prison and Draco lumbered past countless dementors and cells. He struggled to stay awake, but these dementors didn't purposely plunge him into darkness, not like his personal one. Strange, he thought.

They were heading up a flight of stairs, when Draco slowed. The rope wrapping his legs, restricted his movement. Vance grumbled then he shoved him. Draco tripped and fell, his head clipped the steel step and cut open. He opened his mouth to cry out, but still his voice was gone.

"Get up! Or I'll hex you!" Vance spat.

Draco looked up at him, blood streaming out of the cut on his head.

"What? You think I'm going to fix it? Only if you ask nicely. Go on," Vance sneered. Draco lowered his eyes. "Now, get up. Last warning."

Draco slowly rose to his feet and climbed the rest of the steps. His blood fell to the floor. He looked ahead and he see a dementor in front of cell. He instinctively knew it was his. He paused and Vance pushed him forward, again. He almost tripped and wound up in front of the tall, spectral creature. It immediately pulled the air right out of him and he dropped to the ground.

"Draco, don't do anything..." his mother pleaded, quietly in his ear as she hugged him, before pulling back to look into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, mother," he whispered. He had failed her. He was supposed to kill Dumbledore and he didn't.

Snape still held his arm, firmly, and nodded to him. He stared at Narcissa, with some amount of sadness. "I don't think he'll kill either of you, he's very happy, right now. You just have to endure the punishment. Can you?" Snape asked looking at her. She nodded. "Draco? You can't do anything. Do you understand?" Snape's black eyes looked at him.

Draco knew what he meant, but didn't answer. Narcissa had already suffered many times due to his slow progress getting the Vanishing Cabinet fixed.

"Mom... I'm so sorry... I should've..." Draco whimpered and she held him.

"It'll be okay... sweetie. Please do nothing. I'm strong enough with you here and safe." She let go.

Lord Voldemort strolled into the room, Bellatrix Lestrange on his heel. Her husband, Rodolphus was behind her. He wasn't as vocal as she was, but was no less deadly. Azkaban had broken him. He never slept. His brother was worse. They had killed Karkaroff right in front of him, brutally. Lucius Malfoy came in last, glaring daggers at Draco.

"Well... well. Severus, my good man. You have proven that you are faithful, without a doubt. I will grant you any favor for this victory."

"Hogwarts, my lord. I wish to bring glory back to the school."

"I can see no other person to the task. But that leads us back to boy. I believed I warned you what would happen. But as Severus completed your task, I am not too cross. I will let you both live. However, someone must pay, Draco. There must be consequences for failure." Draco nodded, preparing himself and trying to bury his feelings.

But Lord Voldemort stared at Narcissa, who nodded solemnly. He hissed, "Draco... you will do it."

Draco froze and Narcissa's eyes watered. Lucius did not seem to care. Snape had his cool, indifferent mask on, but he let go of Draco's arm. Bellatrix almost smiled at Draco's fear, even at the expense at her sister.

"Do it, Draco," Narcissa told him. Draco obediently pulled out his wand. Coward that he was, he did what he had to. "Crucio!" His mother screamed.

He woke up, thrashing on the floor of his cell, silently screaming. Eyes wet with tears, he felt the flush of shame roll though him.

Vance was at the door chuckling. "Oh, by the way, Happy Harry Potter day. They made it officially his birthday a holiday. I bet this sight would be a great birthday present for our Savior."

Draco silently agreed with him. Potter's birthday, he grasped at the information. It was July 31st. He didn't know why he remembered it. Potter was probably thrilled to have a national holiday named after him, too. He thought sarcastically.

"Don't forget to eat, Death Eater. Or I'll stop by every day to force-feed you. No escaping your punishment." Vance said, before shutting and locking his cell door.

Draco curled up into a ball, again. His head was still bleeding on the floor. No escape. There was no escape. He was trapped. He thought back to the image of his mother screaming from his own spell and his heart ached. He deserved everything.