IMPOSSIBLE RISKS // Drarry

9) THE REVELATION!

TW: Abuse Scars and Panic Attacks.

Draco all but runs back to the Slytherin common room, his breath uneven and jagged. His hands are trembling furiously and his face is so pale it's practically translucent. His mind is spinning in circles, racing and repeating itself. He's disoriented and confused and panicked. He is no longer who he was two hours ago.

Two hours ago, he'd never been hit with the Cruciatus Curse. Two hours ago, he was still a kid. Granted, he'd never actually had a childhood to begin with. His childhood had been infested with fear, pain, and brainwashing but Two hours ago, he believed his father had some sense of compassion for him, no matter how much it seemed as though he was a burden; a mere inconvenience.
Two hours ago, he had hoped that his father's threats were empty. That there was no true intent behind them. That he was just trying to scare him into obedience, that there was no intention to severely harm.
But that hope was very dim.

"Draco, are you alright?" Blaise asks the second he sees his lifeless expression as he slams the door open and then shut. Draco's angry; That's the only real way he knows how to deal with this much mind-numbing pain. He can still feel the curse lingering and ripping him apart, though it isn't quite as strong and overwhelming.

"I'm fine, Blaise," Draco says emotionlessly. He's put his mask back on. His friends can't know how weak he truly is. It's already terrifying, knowing that Harry just witnessed one of his most vulnerable moments. He doesn't need Pansy and Blaise's sympathy.

"You don't look fine," Pansy says as she walks over to Draco and attempts to put the arm on his shoulder but he flinches away from the touch out of instinct.

"What happened?" Blaise asks cautiously.

Draco just shakes his head but the action makes his head pound and throb. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to speak. It hurts to move. It's like the pure malice behind the curse is still there, gripping his agonizing emotional state. Both Pansy and Blaise exchange a look, one that says they need to get Draco's help.

"Should we take him to the hospital wing?" Pansy asks and Blaise nods. They slowly walk toward Draco, their hands raised as if to say they don't mean any harm.

"Come on, Draco. We need to take you to Madam Pomfrey," Blaise says softly.

Draco shakes his head, despite the feeling of his skull being crushed, "I don't want to go."

"Draco, you need help. Please let us help you," Pansy says, bringing a light hand to his shoulders. Draco shudders at the touch once again, as it feels as though pins and needles have stabbed through his bones.

"Why are you flinching? Are you in pain?" Blaise asks and his mouth falls open when Draco nods.

"We have to take him to Pomfrey, Blaise," Pansy says strictly.

"No! She can't know!" Draco croaks, even though speaking that loud feels as though knives are scraping against the back of his throat.

"What can't she know?" Pansy asks in a tone of voice that makes Draco know that they are going to find out, regardless of how hard Draco tries to keep it a secret. When Pansy is in this head space, she can dig for anything easily.

For the first time in years, Draco allows himself to cry out of emotional pain. It had been a long time since he had let himself cry in front of other people. He'd never shown that to anyone before, probably because he was punished for that whenever he did as a child.
Pansy and Blaise rush over to hug him, wrapping their arms protectively around him. Even though the pain is unbearable, Draco clings to them as if his life depends on them. As if he were hovering above a pit of fire, and the only way to ensure his safety is to hold them tighter. And he does. He doesn't even care that he's in the middle of the common room and people are staring. He doesn't care that they're looking at him in shock or judgment. All he cares about is forgetting what happened. He chokes and sobs and gasps for air as if he had been held underwater for days, unable to breathe.