The coat fell from Draco’s shoulders as he stood and he tripped on it, almost falling over, and stood frozen with terror as he realised if he had fallen he would have automatically put out his right arm to try and save himself. Everything he did, it was all tainted by this injury and the pain and disability it created. Draco had been conditioned to always fear the possibility of pain, the fear hovering in the back of his mind constantly. Would he be cursed just for someone’s casual fun? Beaten the way Muggles hurt each other, with fists and feet? Knock his stump on something and set off a blossom of white-hot pain? Be flayed or burnt or spat upon? So many ways to hurt and humiliate him...