For the moment, the dose of Dreamless Sleep potion that Draco took before was indeed helping. At least it gave him a peaceful rest for once. Though his greyish pallor, sharply sunken cheeks, and dark circles under his eyes attested to the immense strain. There were also traces of nailmarks on his face, neck, and arms, all self-inflicted. His blankets and pillow were twisted around him. There might be tears or holes in the sheets, unless they've been replaced or repaired.
Seeing Draco like this, Narcissa has forgotten about everything else. She spent the night here simply watching him sleep, peacefully for once, and gently talking to him.
For the moment, she's gently trying to rearrange his blankets without waking him, occasionally stroking his hair.
Draco slowly peers back at her, his grey eyes wide.
"You sure...?" There was hesistant fear and concern in his voice. In his fevered mind, he thought he heard a high and cold laugh, and a sibilant hiss.Traitor
His eyes started darting wildly around the room, expecting something to come out the shadows.
Draco wanted to believe it desperately. But then his mind seemed to see Voldemort looming over them, emerging from the shadows at last and ready to strike. His left arm felt like it was on fire, and he started to claw at it. Tearing out a Dark Mark that wasn't really there.
Draco reacted to that voice, stern like when he really misbehaved as a child. His hand stopped even though his arm still burned or so he thought. The Voldemort shadow loomed wavered in his line of vision, only now it was more like a Dementor, and he shuddered violently in the sudden cold overtaking him. He was quiet, seeming to shut down again.
Narcissa presses a hand to his forehead, then pulls the blankets up around him again.
"You need food, darling. Maybe some tea, or sweets? Anything you want." She's grasping at straws, just this side of feeling utterly and completely helpless.
That was enough to snap him out of his hallucinations for the moment.
Draco weakly replied, "Just a little fry-up, not that hungry, mum." To be honest, his diet had been decidedly sparse for a while, and the low blood sugar combined with dyhydration couldn't be helping at all.
"Alright." She nods. "I'll be right back, I promise."
She's gone only a few moments, and returns with a plate, and a cup of tea just in case. Whether this is permitted in the infirmary or not, Narcissa doesn't care.
"Here you are, darling. Just sit up a little, now."
Well, patients need food too, and at least they didn't have to deal with hospital food.
Draco did sit up some to make himself comfortable. He reached over to take a sip of tea, and it did help calm him some. He gave his mother a weak smile of reassurance.
Draco tried to remember, "There's a couple walking around. One called Kevin Fawkes...another is Malcolm Crowe. Some others, I don't really remember." Usually since he's been in and out of lucidity for the past several days.
Narcissa simply sits quietly watching him. She gets the feeling this is not the time for motherly pushing. She's satisfied with events so far, and he can set the pace from here.
He was struggling some against the madness threatening to creep back in. Draco continued focusing on the tea and the food, and the sight of his mother as anchors to reality.
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