Sitting down at the foot of the bed, Draco stared at Potter's sleeping face. He felt wrung out, exhausted from having to deal with this unfathomable situation, and he probably required more sleep, but first he needed some form of sustenance. He hadn't ate anything since... his stomach growled, reminding him it had likely been days since he'd fed himself, tending to forget when he was in the zone and away for an extended period of time.

Draco left Potter in the room, figuring he had a few hours at least before he awoke again, and made his way to the little kitchen he had at his disposal. As he prepared something to eat, quick and light, consisting of soup and sandwiches, which could be easily warmed up again for Potter's consumption, he contemplated how he was going to deal with the volatile man.

Potter had clearly lost his mind – not that Draco blamed him. He could only guess, based on the injuries he'd seen, how extensive the torture Potter had endured had really been. Six months – that's how long 'the boy who lived' had been missing. And the cruelties inflicted upon not only his body but also his mind made Draco feel sick to his stomach.

He methodically cleaned up the mess he had made in his haste to procure something edible and also set a stasis charm over the remaining food, silent in his thoughts about what he could do to inform the proper authorities that he had found Potter. Draco was in the middle of a reconnaissance mission and he wasn't supposed to contact anyone for another two weeks, but it was possible to get a missive out from beyond his wards if there happened to be an emergency. Trouble was that they extended quite a distance from the small house so he would have to leave Potter alone to do so. He might just have to knock him out again, depending on Potter's reaction when he regained consciousness again.

Sighing, slightly annoyed with the predicament he found himself in, Draco went back to the bedroom where his passed out 'guest' was still layed out on the bed. At least he had a substantial supply of potion's, though he wished there was more dittany – he would have to use it sparingly.

Aside from making sure that Potter was still alive and breathing, he ignored the man and pulled open the bottom drawer of the single nightstand to gather some parchment along with a quill and some ink. Draco pondered over what to write. He wasn't even sure who it was best to inform about his current situation. It was probably simplest to just let his supervisor know and then she could decide from there who else would gain the knowledge of Potter's current whereabouts.

He quickly wrote up a letter, detailing how he had found Potter and the direct actions he had taken to securely retrieve him from imprisonment, hoping to hell he wouldn't be punished too severely for stepping over – who was he kidding, he'd barreled straight through them – his mission protocols. It wasn't as if he could continue his mission now. But, it was the 'saviour of the wizarding world' so Draco was fairly sure they would be lenient in this case. It helped that his supervisor was one of the green-eyed man's best friends.

Draco had been sent out to keep watch on a group of dark wizards and had followed them to that horror house. Well, he'd pursued three of them and had incidentally lost the other two in the process. And he'd bolloxed everything up by killing them. The others were liable to flee once they saw the massacre Draco had left in his wake.

It had been imperative to his mission to keep them all alive, a direct order he had purposefully ignored once he'd realized who exactly they had been keeping under lock and key in their cellar. What a mess it had all turned into, but Draco hadn't been capable of just leaving Potter there. It was the first mission Draco had ever failed and he felt he should probably be a bit more upset about it, but he wasn't. Not when something so great had come out of it. He would likely receive a metal for bringing Potter back... mostly in one piece. Plus, it was Potter. Even if he had annoyed Draco for most of his life, he didn't deserve to be tortured.

Tucking everything back into the drawer for the time being, Draco turned back to Potter sprawled across the bed with only a sheet to cover his modesty. He would have to transfigure the man some clothes or lend him a few things, like socks and underwear, as he was sure his other clothes wouldn't fit Potter's smaller frame. Although, shrinking them was also an option and probably easier.

Potter moaned in his sleep, his eyes rolling madly behind his eyelids as he began to toss around, flopping his limbs around dangerously like he was trying to swat at something. Draco clenched his jaw, flicking his wand out to restrain him and restrict his movements with a partial body binding spell. He was tired of Potter injuring himself. He checked over his wounds and bandages, finding them to be in the same order as before.

"What am I going to do with you, Potter?" he asked, frowning to himself at the silence his question was met with. Draco really had no idea. Potter seemed to think of him as his enemy and if that was the case then he would be limited by that. He would have to gain the brunette's trust.

Snorting, Draco went back to the chair in the corner, propping his head up on his hand as he watched Potter. He felt a bit like a creep, watching Potter as he slept, but the circumstances dictated he do so. He just couldn't leave the man to his own devices.

He rested there for about an hour before Potter started showing signs of wakefulness again, his fingers clenching by his side as he struggled to thrash around, his eyes shifting around behind his eyes for a while before they suddenly popped open wide, staring blankly at the ceiling. Sighing and dropping his legs back down to the floor, Draco stood and flicked his wand at Potter to release the binding. The man's arms and legs automatically curled in on his body protectively as he began to whimper.

"Harry," Draco said in a gentle manner, "You're safe now. No one will hurt you." Making sure he was standing between Potter and the doorway, he crept closer to the bed, his eyes pinned to the dark green orbs staring intensely at him. "It's me, Malfoy... Draco."

He saw Potter's brow line furrow in confusion as he tried to comprehend what he was being told. Draco hoped he understood, at least on some level, that he wasn't in danger any more.

"M-m-oy?" Potter asked, voice strained, body slowly uncurling itself so he could raise his head from the bed. He hissed, clutching his side, right over the bandage, and Draco took another step forward while he was distracted.

"Yes, Malfoy – you remember me, right?" He felt like he was stepping on eggshells, but he had no other option, really, unless he just wanted to keep Potter tied to his bed for who knew how long. Draco blushed, his mind wandering to places it really shouldn't have been going, especially when he should have been concentrating on Potter right then.

"W-w-wa-"

"Water?" Draco cut him off, knowing Potter's throat must have still been feeling too raw to talk yet. Potter tilted his head down minutely. Draco summoned a glass and with a quick 'aguamenti' was holding one out for him, not wanting to leave the room while Potter was awake and chance another opportunity for the sod to injure himself again. He waited patiently as Potter gave him a cursory glance before he snatched the water from his hand and downed it, coughing as he tried to drink it all in one go.

"Hey, take it easy. There's more where that came from," he commented, with a small smile, glad that he wouldn't have to force Potter to stay hydrated.

"H-h-rt," Potter rasped out, his hands going to his throat, prodding the likely tender skin.

"I know, Potter, but you can't have any more potion for that for a few more hours yet," Draco responded, still trying to keep his voice gentle and soothing, though it was hard for him to do so. It just wasn't in his nature.

It hurt his chest to watch Potter clench his eyes shut, his eyelashes sticking together wetly as he started to cry. Draco didn't really know what to do. He wasn't good at consoling people – Potter didn't like being touched anyway, that much was obvious. So he stood there awkwardly, watching the man who used to be his nemesis shake and sob like a small child, feeling like he was utterly useless.