Confisio Suprema

Hands need to be occupied with something

How unhappy could Draco have felt for weeks when he hadn't heard from Harry or anyone in the wizarding world? He naively assumed that his hero, whom he greatly idealised, would free him within a few days. Help wasn't coming, and Draco was desperate. His captor had not kept him under the Imperius for long, so his reasoning was not impaired, and his health was acceptable. However, he couldn't escape his prison by himself – the room he was imprisoned in repulsed all his magic, even though he was capable of wandless magic as well. Every time he tried to get out through a window or a door, he received an electromagic blow that sent him unconscious for several minutes.

He felt like cattle in an electric fence. The room he occupied was furnished simply but purposefully. No one tried to physically torture him – perhaps out of respect for the Malfoy family? Was his captor related to the Death Eaters? He had a bathroom, a toilet, and clean clothes at his disposal. It was definitely a wizard outfit, albeit basic, nothing fancy, but always washed and ironed. Draco couldn't get out of his room, so he had no idea how big the house he lived in was. He had nothing at his disposal that could be used for any form of entertainment. No books. No one spoke a word to him, only the same house elf kept bringing him food that resembled hospital food. He was really worried that he was going crazy.

His only refuge was the view of the sea. He spent almost all his waking hours by the window. The sight kept him alive in a way. He held out hope that there was a world out there as he knew it, and in that world, beyond that sea, was his Harry. He wrote letters to him in his mind. First, just a brief confession of how much he misses him and how much he loves him. As time passed, Draco was plagued with doubt and fear for Harry. Confisio Suprema! What if Harry doesn't fight back his jealousy and worsens his condition? He didn't doubt his intelligence. He would surely understand his secret messages, but what if he wavered in his trust? Harry was a Gryffindor, and he acted faster than he thought, he was overcome with emotion in an instant. Will he withstand the onslaught Draco's captor has prepared for him?

Harry, please hold on. I never, not even for a moment, stopped thinking about you. You've always been the only one, and you always will be. Don't let anyone destroy your trust in me. I absolutely believe you. One day, you will come for me and take me home. I believe you. Believe me.

Draco didn't stop trusting Harry for a moment. That trust kept him sane and prevented him from falling into despair. He didn't believe that Harry could die due to the curse. After all, he never gave him a reason not to trust him.

However, the boredom was unbearable. Active Draco, who was used to being constantly engaged in some activity, whether it was preparing potions or studying, suffered greatly from the lack of stimuli. One day, he finally made a discovery that allowed him to pursue a pastime he would otherwise have sneered at. As he laid down in bed wearing one of the newly received shirts, he felt a sharp prick. A few small drops of blood stained the shirt. Needle! Someone forgot a needle in his shirt!

Draco examined it carefully, and from that moment on, the needle became his close friend. He carefully unravelled one of the black robes that hung in the closet and obtained the black yarn. He started embroidering on the bed sheet. At first, his creations were hard to look at, but Draco had a really, really long time to perfect his newly acquired skill. In a few days, the sheet was decorated with black ornaments that looked slightly psychedelic, given Draco's mental state. Harry's name often stood out among all the jumble of shapes, embroidered as carefully as if it had been intended for some magical ritual.

When you come, Harry, you'll see that I've been thinking of you all this time. I haven't forgotten about you. I trust you. Trust me.

And if I die here, Harry, you will know that I have never betrayed you or broken a bond of trust, so you will live on and at least have memories...