Memories (bros it's gonna go down tonite) (24)

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Draco read the description out loud.
"This potion will allow someone to go through and look at another person's memories like a pension. While this could be potentially destructive, both parties must be willing and trust one another completely in order to accomplish the effects desired. There must also be no mal-intentions on either side. The person who's memories will be violated will be unconscious for two hours after the intended potency limit. So, do you trust me enough for to let me in?"
"Yes, of course."
They made the potion and Draco made Harry lie down on the bed.
Draco drank the potion and was put into a trance-like state.

Draco's POV (haven't done this in a while, eh?)

It's so dark here... where are his memories?
...

"Look at how fat you've gotten, Harry. Vernon should really feed you less!"
Have you looked in a mirror recently, lady?
...

"You failed to wake Dudley up for school again! That's it. You're staying home from school for a week."
That's actually pretty cruel.. Imagine all the make up work and explaining...
...

"You put two sugars in my coffee instead of three!"
"W-we were o-out..."
"NO WE ARE NOT. GO MAKE A COFFEE WITH THREE SUGARS!"
"Yes sir..."
Shut up! Hows he supposed to put a third sugar when there is no more?
...

3rd person POV (lol sorry)

The new memory showed Harry's head being put under the dirty, soapy, and awful dishwater. Draco was distraught.

This one showed Vernon beating Harry during a panic attack. Draco was stunned because Harry only looked to be eight or nine.

The memory that came next was too awful to describe. Lots of screaming and blood. Draco's stomach was turning and his eyes were about to flood.

Most memories Harry had were just pure abuse. Beaten, raped, starved, called names, target of bullies everywhere he went, ect. Draco saw the blood. He felt every emotion. He just wanted to copy and paste the pain onto him. But then it showed the first time Harry cut.

The silver razor gliding across his pale arm like a sled on fresh snow, leaving a trail of wet, red paint in its wake. Over and over again, but instead of down, it went across. Sometimes the paint would drip down, sometimes it stayed put. Sometimes rain came and caused the paint to run.

Draco couldn't bear it. The pain of watching the blade go across his arm. The tears that occasionally stung the wounds Harry was creating. He didn't count.

Then it showed the first time Harry attempted suicide.

The rope was tied, all he had to do was put it on his neck. As he did so, his favorite teacher walked in and saw him attempt to kick away from the sink he was standing on to gain height.

Another cutting scene, but this time, more familiar. It was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"He'll never love me."
Harry whispered, making the first mark.
"I'm just a burden to everyone."
Another.
"No one loves me."
Again.
"I'm useless."
Cut.
"Why do I even exist?"
Slice.
"Why won't the universe let me die?"
After every word spoken, the silver paintbrush painted another crimson-red steak on a pale canvas. The paint liked to drip down onto the floor, but the artist paid no mind to the mess he was making.

Every other memory was about cutting or a suicide attempt. Draco was sobbing, begging him to stop.
'Please, stop!'
'I love you!'
'I'm here for you!'
'Please, no more!'
He'd shout, but words never carried through. He was lost in a salty sea of tears and unpleasant memories. That is, until he saw a memory that seemed to glow.

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