"You did enough, rest," he ordered.
                              
Harry nodded, suddenly drowsy, and slowly lowered Draco to the bed, again. "How... r... you... fee...." But he was unconscious before he hit the floor.
                              
***
                              
Draco sighed as there was little he could do. He was frozen under the charm, and Harry had been unconscious for ten minutes. Stupid idiotic Gryffindor. Draco had tuned out most of the pain. He had a high tolerance for it, thanks to Azkaban. He could just see Harry drooling on the floor. He smirked and let the idiot sleep. From appearances, Harry slept only a few hours a night, so he needed it. Draco half-wondered if Harry was always this... neurotic or his presence was causing this behavior.
                              
Obsessive behavior, guilt-ridden fits and self-destructive behavior was what he generally expected out of Potter, but not to this extreme. Harry has panic attacks about his panic attacks and seemed mortally embarrassed about being gay. Maybe his muggle family beat heteronormativity into him, too. But there was something that Draco couldn't put his finger on. Something underneath the overly enthusiastic conversations they had. Something buried deep. Something... dark.
                              
As if on cue, Harry jerked and whimpered, "Please... please don't. Please let me go...."
                              
Draco recognized the desperation in his voice... recognized those words and their meaning. Harry said he understood everything... and he meant everything. How the fuck did something happen to Mr. I-Don't-Need-My-Wand. Oh fuck. Draco grimaced at his sudden epiphany. That was why. He cracked. Harry cracked his core under the extreme duress to escape, and it's open now. That's why he can do wandless magic. Most wizards and witches go completely insane when that happens. That's why Hermione had to sign for him, and they considered him a threat. Fuck.
                              
Draco needed to wake him up. When he might start throwing objects, but Harry was exhausted, so that was a plus. Since he was still bound, he could only yell, but Harry didn't move after several rounds of his name being calling. Finally, Draco blew a loud whistle, hoping that would do it. It didn't, but it brought the warden... Natalie.
                              
"What's... Harry!" she cried, then turned and yelled, "Joel!"
                              
She knelt down and examined him. "Merlin... he over-extended... it's been years."
                              
"Nat? What's wrong?" Joel said and then saw Harry.
                              
"He used too much of his magic at once. He used to pass out all the time, but he was better at spacing it out."
                              
"He was going to heal his back," Joel said and glanced up to look at Draco. He ignored them and wished they'd wake up Harry.
                              
"No... please..." Harry whimpered, tears coming out.
                              
Draco wanted to shout at them to wake him up and comfort him! But he was still afraid of talking in front of people.
                              
But Joel reached out and shook him. "Harry... Harry, it's Joel."
                              
Harry jerked awake and immediately curled up into the wall, his arms in front of him, defensively. He wouldn't look at them.
                              
"Harry... it's Joel. I won't hurt you."
                              
Did this guy know, too? Draco wondered.
                              
"I'll go get a cup of tea," Natalie said. Draco rolled his eyes. They were definitely British.
                              
"Hey... calm down. You're at the hospital... in Draco's room. See Draco?" Joel said, nodding up to him. "You just passed out."
                              
Harry made eye contact with him, but he stayed curled up, though. "I'm okay, sorry."
                              
Harry's first actions were to say that nothing was wrong and to apologize. Draco sighed. Harry hadn't told anyone. He hadn't tried to process it. Hell, he denied it happened to him. He was so afraid of being attacked, again, that he was afraid of everyone. Worse, he thought no one could find out, because they trap him in a holding cell. He felt for the Gryffindor.