Redamancy (d.m)

Chapter eighty eight-sore loser

He was trembling in his sleep. He had been muttering in a manic fever, occasionally letting out a sharp cry, like the one that had woken me from my sleep.

"Draco, wake up" I pleaded again, shaking his bare shoulders with my hands to no avail
"Make...make...them...l-leave..." he murmured, eyes shut tight as he flailed around

At a loss for a better solution, I resorted to wrapping my arms around his frantic body, resting his head into the cradle of my chest as I stroked his platinum hair and repeated consoling affirmations. With a sudden heave of breathe, he awoke, momentarily going into a state of alarm as he adjusted to his surroundings, struggling to get his gasps out.

"It's okay, it's okay, you're alright, Draco" I hushed, feeling droplets of tears seep into my chest as he clawed desperately at my back
"I can't-can't..." he choked out, shaking his head in a panic, "can't breathe"
"Yes you can, I know you can" I encouraged softly, "look, we can do it together, okay?"

When he jerked his head into a small nod, I bent my neck down to place a kiss on the top of his head

"Alright, here we go now, deep breath in" when I took in a long breath, he did too, shakily, but successfully, "and out now"

I exhaled, and he mirrored my actions, his body going lax.

"That was wonderful, Draco, that was really good" I assured, gently scratching his scalp as he feebly tapped rhythms onto my spine
"D-did you know that they don't allow you to cast a patronus when you visit Azkaban?" He whispered into my chest after some empty minutes
"You went to Azkaban?" My brows furrowed instantly as I talked
"To see my father" his voice quivered at that, "mother thought it'd be good...motivation. For me to succeed"
"Was it?" I asked with blatant skeptism, "good motivation, I mean"
"About as motivating as a stale piece of toast" he answered dully, making a halfhearted smile stretch onto my face

Some time was spent in crucial silence, Draco continuing to absentmindedly trace lines across the fabric of my bra clasp, his warm breaths growing increasingly steady as they fell over my chest.

"It's hell in there" he muttered, picking his head up to stare at me with hazy bloodshot eyes, "dementors everywhere. Constantly. They never go away."
"Shame, some sun would do them good" I was wary of joking, though it seemed to brighten him up ever so slightly as he chuckled
"That's not the worst part" he said with a bitter air, "the people there-fucking mental, and they scream, god do they scream"
"How was your father?" I questioned hesitantly

He dropped his head down before answering, "terrifying"

I paused, unsure of how to respond to this cryptic description until he spoke up again

"Please keep talking" he requested, pulling two strands of my hair out of its knot before tucking both of them behind my ear, "hearing your voice is the only thing keeping me from losing my shit right now"
"Was he terrifying because he was screaming too?" I said quickly upon hearing this

He shook his head, "he was terrifying because he wasn't. He was dead calm, he didn't even look fazed by the dementors or the other prisoners"
"He's been in there for a while now, maybe he's gotten used to it" I tried to reason against my own sense
"That's the problem-Azkaban isn't something you just get used to, it's torture at the hands of the second most evil creatures on this earth" he ranted as he referenced the dementors, "which means that to withstand it, you have to be the first"

I swiped away the tear that rolled down his forlorn face

"If my father can't be affected by months of these monsters than what does that make him?"

A suppressed retching noise emerged from the back of his throat as he clasped a hand over his mouth while darting over to the connecting bathroom. I hopped out of bed and after him with worry in my gut, greeted by a spattering noise and Draco's trembling form slopped over the toilet bowl. The curses he ground out were muffled as he coughed out another stream of liquid, his body convulsing as I rubbed solacing circles into his bar back while. When he seemed to have expelled most of the fluids, I snatched the t-shirt he'd torn off me earlier that night and gently dabbed the residue clean.