Potter sighed and vanished the restraints on his hands and feet. "Give me a hand, Ron. Let's get him on the couch."
                              
Weasley took one side and Potter took the other. They hoisted him up onto the couch. He didn't drop his arms. He just stayed, still staring up at Potter, who grimaced, as his panic was starting to become noticeable. Potter leaned down.
                              
"It's okay, Malfoy. Breathe. You're safe here."
                              
He tried to calm down, but his mind stuck back there. The dementor had broken him. It almost took him... his soul. He was shaking so badly and couldn't process what had happened. His vision nearly blacked out as he went back into the moment and saw the dementor reach for him. The grey, cold hands... trying to bring him closer. The black hole of nothing....
                              
Potter shook his arm and his vision cleared. "Malfoy? Hey, come on! Snap out of it."
                              
"Maybe a Calming Draught?" Granger suggested.
                              
Potter nodded, and she left the room. He knelt in front of his knees and took his hand. "You're safe. The dementor is...."
                              
He flinched and started crying, which alarmed Potter. He was about to stand back up, leave him, when Draco reached out and grabbed his robes. He couldn't leave him. Potter was a hero. He would save him from it.
                              
"Malfoy?" Potter said, awkwardly surprised.
                              
"Please... don't let it take me!" he begged. He couldn't forget how close it had gotten. He'd rather die than let it suck out his soul.
                              
"We aren't gonna...."
                              
"Please... I don't want to be trapped forever in it!" he pleaded. "Just kill me instead, please!"
                              
"Calm down! No one is going to kill you! It's gone! I slayed the dementor. It's gone, Malfoy!" Potter said, in a high voice and trying to push him off. "It can't hurt you anymore. I won't let any of them hurt you!"
                              
He wouldn't let go, even though he remembered that it had... died. He didn't even know that dementors could die. The sword was still on Potter's waist.
                              
"You're safe, Mal... Draco. Ya hear me? You are safe here. I won't let anything hurt you," Potter claimed, hesitantly rubbing his back. "I will protect you, okay?"
                              
Tears continued to pour out as his mind finally accepted that Potter had actually saved him from eternal torment. "Thank you... thank you!" he cried, still clenching him.
                              
"Well, wasn't expectin' that," Weasley muttered.
                              
"Ron!" Granger snapped, coming into the room and handed Potter something. "It's in the tea, Harry."
                              
Potter said, "Thanks. Come on, Mal-Draco. Let go." He had to pry his fingers off him and pushed him off, slowly, back into the seat. "Drink this. You'll feel better."
                              
Draco's hands were shaking too much to hold anything, so Potter brought it to his mouth and he took a sip. It was enough that the tremors and tears stopped, and he could breathe normally. Potter put the cup in his hands, and he took another sip. Deep serenity filled him, and he didn't feel like he was about to die anymore. Immediately, he took more sips, and the panic slowly went away.
                              
"I think it worked 'Mione," Weasley said.
                              
"It should. I put a double dose in it."
                              
"Maybe you shouldn't drink all of it, Malfoy," Potter said, sitting next to him.
                              
He didn't stop, though. He hadn't felt calm in well... years. It was the first time he could breathe normally and not have the constant fear that he was about to die.