He still found it hard to believe that...that his hand was never going to be there again. This, this injury – it was for life. No matter what happened to him, no matter if things miraculously turned out good for him, Draco would still spend his life as a fucking cripple, his wand hand gone. Magical prosthetics were incredibly difficult to create, and he doubted he would be the lucky receiver of one, being who he was. Besides, he deserved it. A functioning hook would be the best he could hope for, and more than he deserved. He swore and grasped at the thin air where his hand should be in a vain attempt to relieve the phantom itch, but there was no relief and unshed tears and dull anger fogged his vision.