Chapter Thirty – One: Draco

To my amazing readers; please be warned that this chapter may trigger those who experience panic/anxiety attacks. Please, look after yourselves and don't read if you may be affected. Look after yourselves and the next chapter will be out soon. Love you all 3

Draco woke in Harry's arms, a little too warm.

Out. Getout. Getoutgetout. Getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout.

Desperately trying to get his breathing under control, Draco managed to wriggle away from Harry and sought refuge in the bathroom. The cool tiles on his feet gave him a focus point and helped ground him. After a few deep breaths, Draco locked the door and turned on the shower.

Please don't wake up yet, Harry. I don't want you to see this.

Draco set the shower to a warm temperature and simply stood. He allowed the water to run over his body and through his hair, without swiping it away. Draco closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his mouth, counting each breath.

He allowed himself to focus on nothing other than his breathing, allowing his heart rate to slow.

In. Out. In … feel the breath down your throat, filling your lungs. Out … feel your lungs growing smaller, the hairs in your nose tickling.

When he thought he was calm and opened his eyes, all his senses were suddenly on high alert. The water was touching him everywhere, the lights were bright, his hair was heavy, the shower was thundering.

Draco turned off the shower, fighting to keep breathing through his mouth and keep his heart rate low.

He found a new towel to dry himself with under the sink (thankfully, it was not at all scratchy). He brushed his hair with his fingers, not bothering to look directly in the mirror.

Not worth it. You're not worth it. Such a mess needs punishment.

Draco quietly unlocked the door and stuck his head out. Harry was still asleep.

Thank Merlin.

As silently as he could, Draco tiptoed to the kitchen. He rummaged for a glass and poured himself some water, gulping it down greedily. Three glasses later he felt as though he could slow down. He poured one last glass and carried it over to the main sitting area.

Draco tried sitting on the couch, but he couldn't find a comfortable spot. On the edge of the cushion was too tense. Right back against the back rest was too vulnerable and … squishy. So, he stood, and paced in the small space. Quickly, slowly, whatever his legs needed.

His glass of water was quickly empty again, but he held onto it, giving his hands something to do.

A brief thought flicked through his mind; he could read one of the many books on display! So, he stood and ran one long finger along the spines, occasionally pulling one book from its place on the shelf and aimlessly flicking through, sometimes only sections, sometimes the whole book, before carefully putting it back where he found it. As soothing as the action was, he wanted to be doing something vaguely productive.

Anything.

But the apartment was spotlessly clean.

He couldn't go back to sleep, as much as he wanted to be with Harry, the mere thought of being trapped in bed had him shuddering.

Trapped.

The word gave him pause.

Would I be trapped with Harry?

Or had I merely been feeling closed in?

Isn't that the same thing?

…

What's going on?

Draco's heart rate was picking up again. His hands lifted to his hair and began to pull.

No.

Stop. Stop it.

Please. I don't want …

Tears leaked out from under eyelids as he fell to the floor with a thud. The pain gave him a few precious seconds of calm, before his mind began raging at him again.

I'll be punished again. Stop… I need to stop this.

Desperately, Draco dug his fingernails on his wand hand into his opposite wrist. The tears were coming so thick and fast he could barely see his hand.

'Draco?!'

Not worth it. Trapped. Am I? What's going on? Zabini will find out. Need to get out. Trapped? Trapped. Trapped? Zabini. Harry? Zabini? Punishment. Help. Stop. Harry. Loud.

'Draco Malfoy.' Harry's voice finally cut through Draco's raging internal monologue.

That voice. That tone. Do as he says, no questions. Listen to him.

'Draco.' Harry knelt down, his expression and voice not changing until he saw the blood welling around Draco's fingernails. 'Stop that.' He ordered gently. Draco pulled his hand away and placed both his hands on his thighs.

You fucking idiot. You can't hurt yourself. Only Zabini can …

But Zabini isn't here. He's gone. So is the collar. Only Harry.

Am I trapped with Harry?

Why don't I have an answer?

'Draco.' Harry successfully interrupted Draco's thoughts once again. 'Draco, what's wrong?'

Draco blinked.

What's wrong?

The words felt as though they were bouncing around in Draco's scull. Meaningless.

'I'm fine.' Draco whispered. Harry exhaled deeply through his nose and shook his head.

'Draco, you clearly aren't fine.' Harry spoke softly and reached one hand out to cup Draco's face.

Draco flinched.

There was a heavy silence between the pair.

At least, Draco assumed there was silence. His head was still buzzing.

'Draco.' Harry said, using that tone again. Draco looked up, his eyes on Harry's shoulder.

'What do you need from me, Draco?' Harry spoke firmly.

'Make me hurt.' Draco murmured without thinking. 'Make it stop.' He found himself pleading.

His eyes met Harry's, but for once he couldn't read Harry's expression. Those beautiful green eyes were hard. Not angry, simply impenetrable.

Harry sighed and leaned forward to kiss Draco's forehead softly. Draco didn't move out of shock.

No! I don't need … I don't want …

'I'm sorry that this happened to you, Draco.' Harry whispered his voice and expression full of pain, before he rearranged his facial features back to being unreadable.

Back to being the Master.

Harry stood, gazing down at Draco. 'You are not to stand, until I say otherwise. Do you understand?'

Draco nodded eagerly; his mouth suddenly dry. Harry's expression hardened.

'As a general rule, you need to answer when I ask you a question. Do you understand me?'

'Yes, Sir!' Draco managed to gasp out.

'Good. So, do you understand you are to stay on your knees?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Good boy. Now, follow me. Do keep up.' Harry said, turning and making his way back to the bedroom. Draco followed him, crawling.

Knee, hand, knee, hand, watch the edge of the rug, knee, hand, knee, hand, don't fall behind!

Finally, Draco's mind was slowing down.

This, he was familiar with. This focused his mind.