Harry whined and started begging. "Please... don't! Please don't do this...."
                              
Draco snapped out of his thoughts and focused on Harry. What was Harry begging for? Who was hurting him?
                              
"...please let me go. Please!" Harry cried as he fidgeted.
                              
Draco was getting concerned, but suddenly, Harry jolted, slipping out of his chair and crashing to the floor. Draco had to inflate his pillows to the max to see him. Harry was awake, now, on his hands and knees, but shaking and breathing short, panicky breaths at the floor.
                              
"It's a dream," Harry whispered and then slowly calmed down.
                              
Harry eventually looked up and saw him looking. Draco didn't try to hide it. He had figured out that Harry didn't punish him for looking.
                              
"Shit... I'm sorry... if I woke you," he said and slowly got back into his chair, pretending like nothing had happened. Harry looked at him. "You look awake, though." He cast a tempus and nodded to himself. "I haven't been sure that you've been sleeping, and I haven't given you a Sleeping Draught, yet. I didn't want you to wake up confused. I-I didn't mean to fell asleep."
                              
Draco stared at him. Harry was clearly embarrassed that he had stayed just for him. Potter was a faithful guy, that was for sure. Draco still was concerned for him, though. That nightmare had hurt him, if his trembling was any clue. He arched an eyebrow, unwilling to use words.
                              
"You're worried about me? That's not how this is supposed to work. I'm your healer... you don't need to see me like this," Harry said, looking at his trembling hands. "The firewhiskey usually helps dull the memories. It's not as bad as Sleeping Draughts. Hermione's been after me to get a mind healer since the war ended, you know? No... no one's getting in my head. No one."
                              
Harry wouldn't look at him and started rocking back and forth. Draco shot a nervous glance at the door. If anyone saw him like this, he would be a patient, too. He thought about saying something, but Harry looked at him.
                              
"I get it, you know? If someone tried to get into my mind... I'd do the same if I could. I'm a shitty Occlumens and even worse at Legilimency. You don't have to explain anything about... any of it. Fucking mind healers... I tried to see if they'd just talk to you... not go in? They laughed like I was crazy. Pretentious pricks."
                              
Draco's eyebrows raised at the idea that Harry wanted to him help mentally, too, and Harry understood what he went through. Harry was nearly raving, but that didn't matter. Harry always knew what to do and say. He never insisted on eye contact, though enjoyed it immensely. He even turned the bed to the other side, so Draco could look away easier. Harry asked for permission every time he touched him. He didn't grab his arm. He fixed his painfully broken teeth, instead of force-feeding him.
                              
Harry was the most careful person he had ever met, but he looked on the verge of a break. Draco didn't know what to do. He was bound to the bed, and even his arms couldn't reach.
                              
Harry let out a sigh and pushed all the air out. "Alright, I better get out of here before I'm spotted. I don't need another lecture. But Draco," he said as he leaned toward him. "... I'm so sorry about Clearwater. She won't be back. I think I yelled at Ernie enough that he wouldn't dare send another one like that. I won't let them near you, again."
                              
Draco nodded and shivered. He had already forgotten about her. Harry promised him that he'd be safe, and he believed him. If anyone could, Harry could. He stared back at Harry and gave him a small smile. Harry forgot his reserve and reached out and almost touched his cheek. Draco tightened up and Harry stopped.
                              
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling his hand back. "I didn't mean to."
                              
Draco maintained eye contact and nodded to reassure him that he was alright. He didn't want to think about why it was hard to talk to him. The guards hated that he wouldn't speak and did all kinds of things to make him. They wanted to hear his surrender, and he hated it. He started to close up, again. Harry's eyes watched him, concerned.