Draco's suffering

1

Draco groaned in pain even as his father finally lifted the curse from him. His breathing was still ragged, and uneven. He had just defended Muggle-born witches, and his father was not likely to let this go, and even less likely by simply giving him a beating. As he had expected, that had not been the case. He was forced to look at his father as Lucius stood over Draco and looked down on him. He was remarkably calm, even though he had just used the torturing curse on his only child. 

"I will hear no more of you defending Mudbloods, is that clear, Draco?" Lucius spoke gently, his voice hinting towards a darker purpose. Draco nodded, white blonde hair very un-kept, and his silvery/blue eyes wild with fear. "Good," Lucius said this with fury eyes flaring angrily and hissing the words with thinly veiled fury, before proceeding to kick Draco in the back once, not bothering to do much more after staring at him for a little. He walked towards the door, finally turning back. "We leave in thirty minutes." Then turned on his heel and slammed the door. Draco groaned in pain at the sheer effort that it took to turn himself over and on his knees. There was no way, given his most recent beating, that Draco was going to be able to do as his father wanted and, 'compose himself'. The door opened silently and light footfalls could be heart. A soft had curled around Draco's shoulder, which Draco instinctively tried to get out of, fearing his father had not had enough and had returned. Though he should know better, of course.

"Draco, calm down, my dear." Draco did, it was his mother, not his father. Taking a deep breath, Draco tried to calm himself, but the panic of not being able to compose himself gripped him and threatened to over take him. Narcissa moved her wand silently over Draco's chest, stomach, sides, and back. The pain was alleviated and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Thank you, Mother." Draco said, able to breathe properly for once. Narcissa smiled sadly.

"I think that maybe he went a little far this time?" She asked, her voice hesitating slightly.

"I was caught muttering under my breath that blood status does not matter." Draco said, tears threatening to fall. He pushed them back, he could not cry. He was about to get a year free from his father, if Lucius does not come to the Castle, he should be fine. 

"Very foolish with your father right there, Son." Draco nodded with a sigh. He knew that, it had just happened without him realizing what he was doing. He believed some of his father's teachings of course, but he did not quite understand why the blood status of Mudbloods made them less then halfbloods. If anything, they were practically the same. He considered half-bloods worse in a way, not his father though. "The pain should be gone until you leave your father's line of vision. That is the best I could do. Anything else, and it would seem too suspicious to Lucius." Draco just gave his mother a small smile and a light thanks.

At the platform 9 3/4, Draco heard the whistle of the train and moved to leave, but Lucius grabbed hold of his wrist and pinned his arms to the side before he could make his escape. Draco should have realized that his father would not let him leave immediately, still he could not help but make him believe the best each year. The thoughts are so pathetic, when he thought about it as his breath quickened, slightly scared. Lucius leaned down next to Draco's ear. "Compose yourself, you know the consequences if you do not." Draco  was released from his father's grasp immediately after, and Draco managed to get on the train before it left. The hallways were empty, people having already found compartments and waving to their family and friends. 

Once the train started moving, Draco immediately felt all of the pain from his last session with his father flood over him. He struggled to make his way to the back of the train, when suddenly someone grabbed his hand. Draco could not help it like he had always been able to, he winced at the touch of someone grabbing his wrist and the pain that it caused. After all, he had been crucioed not too long before this stupid train. The emotions were all way too raw and he had not quite managed to keep himself as composed as he should have. His father would have a field day.