It's Raining
The moment Draco opens his eyes, pitch-black darkness swallows his vision whole. He sits up with a jolt and blinks, disoriented. Only moments later, a blinding light flicks on, and he squints, trying to make out his surroundings.
Snape stands to his right, and there are messy bandages tossed aside on the floor. Empty potion bottles litter the dark mahogany table, and his arm is wrapped in clean linen. He opens his mouth to speak, but his voice stops, and a raspy cough comes up instead.
The professor puts an arm on his shoulder, and Draco flinches. Snape’s hand tightens its hold on him, and he stares at Draco with his lip slightly curled. “We’ll have to get you to Madam Pomfrey within the next hour.”
Draco looks at him, visible desperation in his eyes, and shakes his head.
“It’s not a question, Draco. This is merely a consequence of your own actions. The staff and your guardians have been notified. Both of your parents are on their way.”
Draco’s eyes widen, and he feels his body rock back and forth. He sees his hands shaking and tries to steady them. He wraps his arms around himself and claws at himself, trying to ground himself with the burning pain running through his body.
“Draco, calm down.” Snape glares at him, and Draco quickly grows still. “You cannot expect nothing to happen when you act out. You’ll be under supervision for as long as necessary, and your possessions will be confiscated for the time being. Understood?”
He turns around, his cloak swishing behind him, and leaves the room without waiting for a response. Draco is left there, slightly stunned. He slowly comes to a stand, and his legs move swiftly, carrying him to the door. He heads to the infirmary.
He’s stuck in a dream, or at least it feels that way. He’s watching this through a screen. It couldn’t possibly be real. Even if it is, he’s not the one at the front of his mind. He’s not the one taking the actions his body is carrying out.
He watches himself greet Madam Pomfery. He looks at the slight pity in her eyes and observes as he sits on a bed, waiting. His gaze stays downward, and he has no reaction, even as his parents’ loud steps near.
The sound of their voices is far away. Dreamlike. He hears his mother sobbing.
“Why should I have to live when my child is so messed up?”
He feels his father’s hand wrap around his arm and drag him off to another room. He takes each blow without flinching, and he stays silent as his father brings him back and speaks with Madam Pomfrey. The two of them assure her that he can return to his classes by tomorrow. They apologise for the inconvenience. They leave only moments later.
___
The one person he hoped to trust betrayed him. He disappointed his family. He failed.
There is some small part of him that thinks, in this moment. Shouldn’t you feel something, Draco? Shouldn’t you feel something?
He feels nothing but the dull weight sinking inside of his chest.