The pang in his chest was still prominent and he clutched his hand to his heart and balled it into a fist. Curling in on himself he began to openly weep. The ache in his chest and head were too strong to ignore and he was unable to store the memory of her away. The memory played out over and over again. He watched again and again and again as short flashes of his aunt Bella carving horrid letters into her unmarked skin ran through his mind. Listened as a gut wrenching scream tore out of her throat. Watched as she convulsed from the fourth crucio, one he’d been unable to avoid viewing. Watched terrified as blood pooled beside her, the cursed blade continuing its path upward. Draco had focused on the blood rather than on her face. Tears ran down his cheeks as he recalled blood becoming diluted, then starting in horror as he realized it was urine. The effects of one too many crucio’s. 