Hi! Yup, chapter two is here and it's about to get vivid! Trigger warning to anyone that doesn't like sensitive topics, but you knew what you were getting into when you read the description so ... your own fault if you don't like it. I feel like such a hypocrite... I'll warn you with this emoticon ⚠️ And you'll know it's over with this ✔️ Enjoy!

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Draco packed his bags and proceeded to run around making sure everything was perfect for his trip to Hogwarts. He didn't want to miss the train, if he did he'd have to stay behind and that would upset his father. Lucius was quite glad to be rid of his son for a few months, it's not as though he couldn't use Narcissa as his punching bag. That's what scared Draco most, but his mother practically begged for him to go hoping her son would be safer at school.

He dashed down the stairs and waited in the foyer knowing his father and mother wouldn't want to miss saying goodbye. Lucius mainly wanted to check if the concealment charm hiding his bruises was working, but Narcissa wanted to see her son before her months of Hell began. He really didn't want to leave his mother, but staying would only course her more grief and he did not want to hurt his mother like that. Draco and Narcissa both didn't deserve the life they had been given, but as they kept telling themselves, 'karma has a way with people'.

"I suppose it's good enough," Lucius remarked, "but please don't act so exhausted!"

"Of course father."

Draco then after appearated to platform 9 3/4 and boarded the scarlet steam-engine. He had always thought it was rather strange that it had been scarlet and gold, it had reminded him of a certain house and made him feel like the other houses didn't matter much in comparison. And the three other houses had always excluded Slytherin, so he didn't blame any of them for hating the other houses. But seeing how few Slytherins there were made him feel his anxiety bubble just bellow the surface.

He looked around for any of his friends, he only managed to spot one other eighth year student though. He walked up to him and asked how his holiday had been. But Theodore didn't want to talk, turns out he hated Draco's guts. Most Slytherins now did in fact, he had joined the Dark Lord and that made all Slytherins look bad. It was rather stupid that everyone painted them with the same brush, but that's how things worked for the house. It wasn't ideal or happy, but it's part of what made them Slytherins.

Theodore left Draco and went onto the train without even a word leaving his lips. Draco knew the year was going to be difficult, but he didn't realise the Slytherins would leave him behind. Nonetheless, he went onto the steam-engine and looked for an empty compartment to sit in. Chances were he wouldn't be welcomed by anyone, and if someone did choose to sit with him he'd find out who his real friends were. Turns out he had none. Not a single person sat in the compartment with him. 

Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and one or two Slytherins passed by only glaring at the pale blonde. Did this bother him? Not as much as it probably should've. He felt nothing, numb from constantly crying and empty from all the things he had called himself. He was worthless after all right? Wrong, he wouldn't realise this for a long time, but no one was worthless. But he felt that way, didn't see much point in living. His only purpose in life was to make sure grief didn't over take his mother whom was now a mere shell of a woman.

He hated knowing he had what others deserved. He hated knowing he caused so much pain. He hated knowing he was weak and worthless. He hated being alive...

-~-

Once the clock hit eleven o'clock the Hogwarts Express began its journey to the school. Draco was exhausted and tired from undernourishment and lack of sleep. He began to doze off, but he tried to stay awake not wanting to course a scene. He eventually cast a silencing charm around the compartment because he knew he would end up falling asleep and he wanted practice for future needs. He didn't face a memory he recognised in his sleep though, he faced a memory that had been altered for reasons he would figure out once it was done.

⚠️

A seven year old Draco was sat in his bed listening to his parents arguing. He knew he had said something, but he wasn't sure what. All he had done was ask where children came from and if you could have a child with someone of the same gender. It was a confusing topic for him because he had seen a girl his age with two dad's. Maybe he worded it wrong. But he wasn't sure and was still quite confused.

Soon enough, the argument ended and Draco heard a howl of pain and recognised it to be his mother. He was now more terrified than ever before, never having heard anything quite like it. His father, Lucius, then appeared in the doorway and walked over to his shaking son. Lucius was holding a leather belt and proceeded to whip his child with it leaving bruises and a few hits were so quick and hard that it left a cut. But that wasn't the end of it...

Draco had closed his eyes and they were squeezed so tightly shut he only opened them in shock when he realised the belt had been used to tie his hands to his bed. He was about to ask what was going on when a cloth was shoved into his mouth muffling the screams and pleas that escaped. He squirmed in an attempt to escape his constraints but it was futile and only wasted the little energy he had. Lucius had a strange look in his eyes and a twisted grimace had formed on his face.

"You wanna know where children come from," he said with an emotion Draco didn't recognise laced in his voice, "here's a demonstration!"

Lucius ripped the shirt off his screaming child and he saw just how much damage the belt had caused to his son . . . and smirked. The bruises were already aching and the few cuts sprinkled here and there stung as blood dripped. Lucius licked the blood from his son's torso and chest bringing himself up to Draco's neck. He bit into the tender flesh and sucked his neck leaving behind what was known as a hickey or love bite.

No matter how hard Draco tried he couldn't get the cloth out of his mouth and couldn't get away from his father. Lucius had managed to strip his son entirely while the seven year old fought against his action no longer wanting to know. Draco was starting to ache more and he felt more blood leak from the cuts on his chest, back and torso. He just hoped it was a nightmare, but gave up on hope that exact moment.

Lucius had taken off his own shirt when he noticed the blood once again leaking. He licked them once again and Draco squirmed not wanting to have his own father lick him clean as though he was a cat. Lucius wasn't a loving father, and Draco new this was a punishment and didn't want to understand what it had to do with having a child. The cloth in his mouth began to fall out and he guessed that if his mother heard him scream she'd help him.

The cloth eventually fell out of his mouth and when he was about to scream for help he all of a sudden heard it once again muffled. Lucius didn't want Narcissa to know what was going on, so in his hast he pressed his lips to his own child's. Draco knew this was a sign of affection for most, but in this case it was to shut him up. Draco didn't understand what his father was even doing, which just made the experience even worse. 

Soon enough Draco realised that the licking and giving him hickey's had nothing to do with having a child. He eventually found out what the actual process was and upon learning, started to scream not wanting to go through it. Lucius eventually found the cloth and stuffed it back into his son's mouth and began licking at his bleeding wounds again. Draco was crying and saw his vision blur because of it. He was tired because he had tried to fight back and had ended up using energy he didn't even know he had.

Once Lucius was finished he left and Narcissa came in to see her seven year old son crying on his bed with bruises, cuts and hickey's. Narcissa was furious, but she knew yelling at Lucius would only make it worse. She saw that her son didn't want to know anymore and was begging for it to all have been a horrid dream. This hit her where it hurt, she had only ever put up with Lucius' abuse towards her because she didn't want him to harm Draco, but that would no longer work.

She couldn't handle watching her son hurt like this or crying with such pain behind his voice. She couldn't stand to watch it so she did what she knew would satisfy both Lucius and Draco. She altered his memory to think he had been beaten and the 'the talk' yelled at him, explaining how it was sinful to like someone of the same gender. Draco's version blurred and went dark.

✔️ (Draco writes a diary entry later to explain what happened for those that didn't read.)

He woke up with a clear image of his childhood, and a permanent gratitude towards his mother. But his head hurt, it was pounding and the thought of having not placed the silencing charm scared him. If it wasn't there he would've been stared at and people would've been bullying him about it for the whole of his time at Hogwarts. Just knowing he could've been in that position made him hyperventilate. 

He looked out the window and slowed his breathing to see they were almost at Hogwarts. At this realisation he got into his robes and almost choked himself on his tie in his hast. For a split second he wanted to let it kill him, but then he remembered his mother and all she had sacrificed for him. It made him feel guilty about wanting to die, which ended up making him feel worse about himself.

But it was only the beginning of the year, and he had a lot more to go through...

-~-

Once the train arrived at Hogsmeade station, everyone had to take their things and Draco had to take down his silencing charm. Of course, he would most likely have to share a cart with someone, whether they liked him or not wasn't even a question. He was guaranteed to sit next to someone that didn't like him because no one liked him. He'd probably have better luck with the first years, but they took boats.

And Draco could put a black cat to shame with his horrid luck, so of course he ended up with the people whom hated him most. It was full already, but it was also the last one so he was forced to stand in the centre. Neville, Ginny and Luna sat on one side of the cart while Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the other. It was cramped, and they hit a few bumps on the way (kind of why you have to sit down) but that wasn't the worst part.

Towards the end of the ride they hit a bump that course Draco to stumble, but right after that before he could regain his composure they hit another one. This coursed Draco to fall over, but he didn't hit the floor of the cart. He landed on someone's lap. He turned his head slowly to see who it was and horror struck him when he saw none other than Harry Potter. He basically jumped off of him and stammered in apology trying to hide his red face.

It just had to be Harry Bloody Potter!!

When the cart stopped, Draco was practically thrown out of the cart and they all walked past not even glancing back. Luna did turn her head slightly and peeked at the boy, but Draco didn't notice. He was a bit preoccupied because he had managed to cut his arm on a rock. His left arm. The stinging sensation of the tar like substance was almost too much to bare, but he had learnt how to hold in a scream over the years.

He let the black liquid drip from his arm until all that remained was a scar. The mark had paled only slightly, Draco still had a long way to go, but it was enough to please him. Luna was very confused by what she just witnessed, and Neville had a look of guilt on his face, even if he hadn't seen the result of pushing Draco out of the cart. They didn't join in on the conversation as much, and the other four were talking vividly to one another. But the two reasonable people couldn't help but feel their was more to Draco than meets the eye.

Meanwhile, Draco was stumbling to the Great Hall with an aching arm and no clue of where his friends were. When he arrived, he saw only three other Slytherins at the table, all of which glared at him. He sat at the far end of the table not wanting to be near the glares, but also wanting to be near the exit. The sorting began and out of about fifty students, only about six were sorted into Slytherin. McGonagall gave a speech as the new Head Mistress, and the tables filled with food.

Draco didn't eat much, he only took about one bite before he felt like he might throw up. He then just proceeded to move the food around his plate, not really wanting to eat. The feast eventually ended and Draco went to the dungeons in search of the dormitory. The Slytherin common room was as cold as ever and dark, but it was also very empty because their was now only ten or so Slytherins.

Draco went up to where he slept, there was only two eighth years so that would be fun now that Theodore hated him. Draco picked up his pyjamas and decided he'd have his shower. Once done, he put on his clothes and left to go to bed. Theodore was already asleep so Draco had time to write. He had always enjoyed writing, but he only ever had bad things to write about. It's why he stopped over the holidays, but it helped him clear his mind so he took out his journal and a quill.

1st Sep 1998

I took a break from writing because I only ever had bad things to write about. But I guess I never wrote about anything good in the first place. I had quite the nightmare on the Hogwarts Express though. It was quite unpleasant, but I can't control the memories my brain shows me.

I didn't even know that it existed though because my mother used a memory charm to make me think something else happened. I'm thankful for that, because if it hadn't happened I'd probably be dead by now. Sometimes I wish I was dead, but I've got no good reason to wish that. Others had people they cared about die in the war while I'm complaining about a strict father. How pathetic.

The nightmare was of when I was only seven years old. I don't remember much of before hand, but I know I said something about where children come from and whether or not people of the same gender could date. Or something along those lines anyway. But I was listening to my parents arguing when my mother howled in pain. I'd never heard anything like it...

But soon after my father appeared in the doorway with a belt. He whipped me with it until I was covered in not only bruises, but cuts too. Eventually he gave me a 'demonstration' on how babies are made. I can't thank my mother enough for erasing that memory and replacing it with something else, but I wonder what happened to her.

I didn't want to leave her alone at the manor, but she begged me to go. She didn't want me near my father any more than I needed to be and couldn't stand to see how he treated me. She had stood up for me a few times, but that only made things worse... Overall, the holidays were complete Hell.

Draco L. Malfoy

He hated writing his name, he didn't want to be a Malfoy. He didn't even want to be alive anymore, but his mother would be in too much pain and he couldn't leave her like that. Not after all she had done for him. The only thing binding him to the Earth was his mother, but that could only last so long as she was there for him. And that could only reach so far with Draco at Hogwarts.

-~-

Draco stayed up all night not wanting to face anymore traumatic memories, but that would come back to bite him in the morning. He was visibly tired and clearly hadn't been getting much sleep. He had placed a silencing charm around his bed and closed the curtains on the canopy for extra precautions. If he did fall asleep he wouldn't cause a scene, but that luckily never happened. It was only going to make him more energy zapped, but he didn't want to face his memories that night.

He wouldn't let himself sleep, and eventually got out of bed to go to the bathroom. While in the bathroom he saw a razor on the bench. It sat there, next to the sink coaxing Draco to pick it up, and he did. He took the blade and used it to slice his forearm. Draco was shocked at how calming it was. 

The blood that left his arm was a deep crimson colour, but there was a spot that released a brighter shade. Whether it was healthy or not didn't bother Draco, he was relaxed for once and he deserved the sting of the rusty blade. But he didn't want to face infection and let people know he hated himself, so he poured a little salt into some water and used that to clean his arm. Salt water may sting - and that was a bonus - but that was only because it was killing the bacteria's in the wound.

Draco didn't want to risk infection because then people would know what he was doing and hate him even more. He had no good reason to feel upset after all, or at least, that's what he thought. He had plenty reason to be upset, but no one deserved the pain that made them do this to themselves. But he thought he had no good reason and just wanted relief. 

He thought that if people knew what he was doing they'd hate him for, one; having no reason and two; they might encourage him. They probably wouldn't care, but he was convinced that they'd be excited that he was doing this to himself. They might even attempt killing him seeing as he wouldn't mind or fight back. But he probably would fight, he didn't want to leave his mother with his father like that.

But he had no clue what the year had in store for him...

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Morbid I know, but it's what you signed up for in this fanfiction so you can't blame me. I do that all the time, but I don't see warnings for all of that kind of stuff and I kind of just expect physical and emotional abuse. But I did put a warning for this kind of content in the description so it's not my fault. I warned you at the beginning of the chapter, and before you read this book so don't blame me for your reading this. Thank you!

       - Turtlefreakakw2 <3