Nobody Came

Nobody Came

Laying lost and wounded

Draco lay on the cold stone floor, his right arm hurt and his nose was beginning to feel swollen. He didn't know why he bothered, fights with his father always ended with his pain. It had been worse this time, his father had been angry today instead of simply annoyed.

Just myself to blame

He couldn't really lay the entire fault on Lucius for this particular battle, after all no one had forced him to flaunt his new relationship in the man's face. In fact several people had specifically warned him not to. His father, who hated Muggles and hated Muggle Loving Pure Bloods even more, had been enraged when he discovered his son's relationship with the worst of them all. Harry Potter.

Have no life and
Being hand-fed pain

Draco had been living a half life, if it could even be called a half life, for most of his existence. But when he had come back to school after fourth year he decided he had had enough of his own self loathing, enough of his father's constant abuse, and enough of Harry's contempt for him. He acted on his instincts, and found the greatest person in the world. Harry had made him whole, and he had been proud of their relationship

Head's a crying wasteland
Filled with shame

Draco's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. Lucius walked in, his expensive dragon hide boots tapped a slow staccato on the stones. "So boy, what is your decision?" Lucius' voice was low and threatening.

Draco rolled over reluctantly and glared at his father, and was ashamed of him. "No." Draco's firm answer was met with a raised eyebrow form his father, "I can't and I won't. I don't care what you do to me. He loves me and I love him." The livid purple of Lucius' face made Draco stop at that.

"As you wish," Lucius smiled malevolently, raising his wand.

Cried for help before and
Nobody came

"Crucio," Lucius shouted, his voice echoing off the dungeon walls.

A white knife of pain seared through Draco's body and he curled into a fetal position. His mind felt like it was being split in two and his arms and legs twitched violently from the intense throbbing. He cried out for his mother, he knew she wouldn't come, even if she did hear, but he needed her, so he called.

Lucius laughed malignantly. "No one's going to come to your rescue this time boy." He raised his wand again. "Crucio."

His father beats him
No hesitation

The pain returned twice as strong. Draco screamed, "Father please! Please just let me go." He could feel the cool blood flowing from a wound on his head, he decided he could never tell Harry about this, it would kill him, and he wanted to die.

Done with the curse, and blinded by his rage, Lucius picked up a chair that sat in the corner of the cell. He raised it over his head and threw it at his son's figure. He saw the scrapes the chair had caused on his son's exposed skin and picked it up again. Again he picked up the chair, and again, and again, until there was no chair, only shards of wood.

His face left dripping
In humiliation

Blood gushed from the wounds on Draco's head and neck. His silvery blonde hair was crusted with the crimson liquid. His clothes were torn and dirty. Around him lay fragments of the chair that had taken his dignity and his life.

Head's a crying wasteland

Filled with shame

Cried for help before and

Nobody came

Lucius looked down at the prostrate form of his son. He spoke, his voice filled with a sort of furious pride. "You chose this for yourself. There's nothing left for me to do." He paused. "I am sorry Draco."

As he lies wounded

His father turns to clay

A frozen statue

Can't walk away

He stood there for several minutes, breath coming in agitated gasps. Then the frenzy cleared from his mind Lucius saw what he had done. His only son, his heir lay in a pool of garnet blood, dead. He couldn't move, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight.

Heads a crying wasteland

Filled with shame

Cried for help before and

Nobody came

Finding his voice Lucius tried to revive his fallen son with a spell. When that failed he called for Nacissa, he had to tell her, and now she would hate him too, as Draco had. He was panicked, the only thing he had ever loved was his wife, and she would despise him now. He turned with a swish of elegant black velvet and strode off down the hall, the staccato tap of his boots echoing off the rock walls.

See what I can lose again

For being the victim