For The Last Ship Standing Competition, using the prompts quote: "How many wars will it take for us to learn that only the dead return?" - Andrea Gibson; word: glide and dialogue: "I'm trying so hard, but the higher I climb the further I have to fall."
Also entered in the If You Dare Challenge (602. Open Minds); the OTP Bootcamp (22. Listless); the Colors Competition (Black positive); the Legendary Creatures Competition (Sha) and the Popular Song Competition (All Time Low).
WARNINGS: Mentions of depression
For Sam, who writes some of the most brilliant HarryDraco ever. I still haven't gotten to that DracoCharlie, but I hope you like this anyhow (:
A hero and a villain bumped into each other while on an appointment with Mind Healers.
Somehow, it felt like the beginning of a bad joke only Dumbledore would tell.
As it was, they merely nodded at each other.
"Potter."
"Malfoy."
That was all the acknowledgement needed.
"I'm not sure what to say. This feels stupid somehow, but I promised Hermione and Ginny I'd tried, so hear I am. Trying.
I met Malfoy on my way in. It's odd, the feeling of not hating him anymore. I understand why he did what he did. In a way, he's a lot more blameless than I am. He tortured and killed only to protect his family. In the last days of the war, I sent to man under Imperius to hide in the caverns of Gringotts, knowing full well that it was more than likely he'd die of starvation if I didn't return within a few days. I tortured Amycus when I could have easily stunned him.
It doesn't matter that I – we – got to Travers before there was any actual damage done to him. The fact is I was still willing to kill him.
Hell, I don't know if I would have turned back to save Malfoy and Goyle from the Fiendfyre if I hadn't heard Malfoy's scream. I forgot they were there. How could I forget that there were people trapped in the same hell I was trying to escape?
I'm not sure I even know who I am anymore."
"I never wanted to fight, did you know that?
Oh, I thought You-Know- Voldemort was right of course – I was brought up to think that – but I never actually thought of it in terms of me fighting. As far as I was concerned, it'd all be over before it even touched me.
I don't know why I'm telling you all this. Maybe it's because you're paid not to judge me.
My father – and isn't that a whole different conversation in itself – my father and mother pampered me. I know that, I'm not an idiot.
But the thing is, that I meant that I never expected to get my hands dirty.
And then he came, and everything changed.
I hated him as much as I supported his cause. Is that even possible?
He held my parents over me the entire war.
I know who I was raised to be, I know who I became in the war. I don't know who I'm supposed to be now that all of that is over."
"Hello Malfoy."
"I didn't expect to see you back here Potter."
A shrug.
"I guess we all have surprises to offer."
"I'm just tired now.
I saw Malfoy outside again. He tried to get a rise out of me. I didn't respond.
I always respond.
I don't know why, but I'm tired. The papers are filled with calls for retribution against those who were on the "wrong side," and I can't help but wonder how long it will be until we become as bad as they were.
Hermione tells me I should use the influence I have to change things, but for some reason I just can't bring myself to do it.
I'm so tired. I've been fighting my whole life – don't I deserve some rest?"
"Potter didn't respond to my taunts today. I have to wonder if that means I'm losing my touch.
I used to be feared and respected by people wherever I went. Now those same people spit at my feet, and I just don't have the energy to respond to their hate like I once would have. I'm pretty sure I'm losing my touch, and I just don't know how to get it back.
I try and I try to regain the person was, but I can't. I'm trying so hard, but the higher I climb the further I have to fall.
I don't the think I'll ever be the Draco Malfoy I used to be again, and maybe that's a good thing.
But the question still remains. It's the same question that it was the last time I was here – who the hell am I?"
Footsteps.
Draco looked up. It was Potter again.
For some reason, it was always Potter who had his session the same time Draco did. He supposed he could continue with their tradition of single word conversations, but for some reason he felt he wanted more today.
After all, meeting every week at a Mind Healer's office did tend to result in the formation of some sort of bond.
"Hello Potter."
Pot- Harry, Draco decided to call him from now on, at least in his mind – looked surprised at the departure from routine. And yet, he didn't try to pull them back to what they were.
"Hello Draco," he said (and now Draco had to call him Harry out loud or he'd seem cowardly, and wasn't it just like Harry Potter to force his hand.) "I saw the article about your mother in the Prophet. It's nice to know that people are finally seeing sense."
And maybe that would have been their first real conversation, but then Harry was called in followed closely by Draco, and that meant they'd just have to wait for the next visit.
"Draco started a conversation today.
It gives me hope, you know, that he's changing – that we're changing.
The people are starting to see not everything was black and white during the war. I assume you read yesterday's Prophet? It's nice to see that people can realise that even if she is a Malfoy, it doesn't mean that Narcissa can't have contributed to the saving the world from Voldemort. It's one of the few glimpses of hope I've had after the war.
I've decided that Hermione's right, by the way. I do need to use my influence to make sure that the wizarding world isn't overtaken by fools like Fudge again. In some ways it was that article that convinced to do it – if people could understand their mistakes, I could give them a second chance.
Draco doesn't know this, but I'm going for dinner to his Manor tomorrow night. I may not like him, but Lucius Malfoy is the most knowledgeable person about politics that I know of, and Narcissa was very welcoming when I owled her for help yesterday."
"I actually spoke to Po- sorry, Harry today. I didn't even know I was willing to talk cordially to him until he appeared in the doorway of the clinic.
I'm changing. Somehow, I don't even know how, I'm not the person I used to be. He – the old Draco – would have sneered at the thought of speaking affably to Harry Potter.
It's odd, isn't it, how much my life seems to revolve around him? It seems everything I do starts and ends with him.
I wonder what you'll read into that."
The next time, the two of them entered the waiting room together, talking rapidly. Had there been anyone else there, they would have collapsed from the shock of seeing the two supposed enemies so friendly with each other.
But there wasn't, and the two of boys – because no matter what they had seen, they were still boys – were more than happy to take advantage of the privacy.
"I have to admit, I didn't expect the dinner to go as well as it did," Harry said as they sat down to wait. "In fact, your expression when you first saw me in the Manor convinced me that it was going to be a train wreck."
"Well, as far I knew, you'd just turned up uninvited," Draco grumbled, "And then Mother and Father greeted you like they'd been expecting you, so you can't really blame me for the confusion. Why in Merlin's name didn't you tell me what you were planning?"
"It was more fun my way," Harry said, eyes sparkling with laughter.
Before Draco could reply, the door to the office opened, and both boys were called inside.
"The dinner went fine," Harry said with sparkling eyes full of eagerness. It was the first time he seemed anything but lost in this room. "More than fine actually. I gave Draco a fright, turning up at his house without his knowledge. I thought for a moment that he was going to go insane, but well, I'm still here aren't I? Besides, I think we may have just come out of it as friends.
Funny how little it took to mend fences in the end.
Lucius gave me some good advice. I think Narcissa's forced him to stay on his best behaviour.
I think I'm going to start my campaign at home. I'm bringing Draco to meet Hermione and the Weasleys sometime in the next few weeks. It took a bit of convincing, but I managed it. He's promised to be on his best behaviour, and if I can convince the Weasleys to accept him, I'll be able to overcome anything the politicians throw at me.
It's going to be interesting to say the least."
"It's odd how a simple dinner can change so much, isn't it?
It seems Harry's adopted me as his newest pet after last week. He's decided that we're going to be the best of friends, and oddly enough, there might be some truth to it.
He dragged me around Diagon Alley a couple of days back. I'm sure you saw the report in the paper.
It was the first time since the war that people didn't look at me with hatred in their eyes. And when I visited without him, I was sure it was going to go back to revulsion. Instead, they were perfectly normal with me.
Just one little change, and I felt like I could do anything in the world, even fly and glide without the help of a broom.
I'm still not sure who I am, but I might just not hate the process of finding out anymore."
When the two boys returned next, it would be the final time they were there.
"I have to say, Harry, last night was rather…eventful," Draco said.
"It was, wasn't it?" Harry laughed, "But you have to admit, you had fun."
"As much as it pains me to admit, it was rather fun," Draco replied reluctantly.
"Oh, stop looking like that admission killed you," Harry told him, playfully punching him on the arm.
"It does hurt me physically, Potter," Draco said dryly. "Do you realise last night means that I have reevaluate everything I was taught growing up? That doesn't happen in one day."
"Yes but- oh," Harry broke off, looking at the nurse who had suddenly appeared to beckon the two of them inside. "We'll continue this later," he told Draco mock sternly as they walked inside. "Don't think you're getting out of this."
"I'm in love with him," was the first thing Harry said as he collapsed on the sofa in front of Healer Fiona. She insisted on being called by her first name, and Harry was nothing f not accommodating.
"Last night went brilliantly. It took everyone a while, but within an hour and a half, they were all interacting with each other and having fun. I should be happy about that, right?
Well, I would be if I hadn't realised that I'd gone and fallen in love with Draco Malfoy somewhere along the way."
Before Harry could continue, Fiona broke in. "I had wondered how long it would take you to realise that," she murmured.
"What?" Harry asked, looking at her in shock.
"To an outsider, you were rather obvious Harry," she said smiling at him. "But we're going off track. I don't think this is a conversation you have to have with me."
"Than who am I supposed to tell?" Harry asked her.
"Why don't you try telling Mr Malfoy himself?"
"I couldn't!" Harry exclaimed immediately, a note of panic in his voice.
"You have come very far since when you first came to see me, Harry," she told him gently, "I have no doubt that you can do this." Before Harry could say anything, she continued. "Now, Mr Malfoy is standing outside the door. It is your decision whether I let him in or not."
Harry looked at the door, fear in his eyes. He debated Fiona's offer for a few moments before nodding determinedly. "Let him in," was all he said.
Fiona got up to open the door, slipping out of the room as Draco entered.
"Hello Draco," Harry murmured as he sat down next to him.
"Harry," Draco replied.
"I have to tell-" both of them said together, before breaking off to look at each other with laughter in their eyes.
"Why don't you go first?" Harry asked. He could use the extra time to calm his nerves.
"I think maybe together?" Draco asked tentatively, as though certain that he would be shot down.
Before Harry could reply, a memory entered his mind of the last time he had agreed to do something in unison with another person. He ruthlessly pushed that thought down. There were no Voldemorts and Pettigrews here to kill Draco.
"On the count of three," he told Draco.
"One…two…three…I'minlovewithyou," both of them blurted out together.
Draco looked at Harry wondrously, awe evident in his face. The idea that someone like Harry was in love with him…
He reached out, pulling Harry close to his as he stared deep into his eyes.
It was when both of their bodies seemed to move towards each other without orders from their brains, lips meeting in a gentle, passionate kiss, that they both decided that they had no more need for therapy.
They had gotten everything they needed out of it.
A hero and a villain bumped into each other while on an appointment with Mind Healers.
It sounded like the start of a bad joke.
Instead, it was the start of a beautiful romance.
I'm sorry for all the angst! I hope the ending made up for it (:
Don't forget to drop a review on your way out (: