Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights belongs to lovely J.K. Rowling

Author Note: Special thanks to Wolfie ^^ ; the song belongs to Pink Floyd

Chapter 1

Hello?

Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?
Come on now
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I'll need some information first.
Just the basic facts.
Can you show me where it hurts?

His bedroom was dark, the shadows of furniture were horrific He couldn't move from the floor. 'Great, I've passed out again,' was the first thought when he opened his eyes. The silence made his blood run cold. All he'd heard was the ticking of the clock above the mahogony table and that sound drove him mad. The Mid-twenties man tried to move again in the/a hopeless attempt to crawl onto the bed. He'd managed to move to his elbows behind his back to support himself while he turned his body to face the edge of the large and comfortable bed. He'd slowly pulled himself up with the support of the bed, careful not to stand up too quickly and walked to the broad wooden doors. He stepped through and found himself on the corridor which led to the bathroom. He walked with precision past the majestic portraits hung with silver frames which gave him a disapproving look or didn't even care to throw a stern look at him. At the end of the corridor he turned left and made a few steps to find himself before another wooden door He pushed down the beautifully designed black handle and walked past them and found himself almost running to the toilet to throw up the so called meal – one apple and a cup of vegetable soup. Exhausted, he reached out to flush the water and shakily got himself off his knees.

Washing his hands he looked up to the reflection in the ovale-shaped mirror above the sink. He saw blonde hair, messy and thin and his narrow and quite pale face. His sliver-blue eyes stared back at him and held an expression of disgust; his lips were thin, without colour and cracked. His cheeks were prominently showing the bones. He ceased looking in the mirror and headed to the black bathtub with the taps made of silver. He turned it on and stripped himself of clothes to show his fragile and skinny body and lay down in the bath. Hot water relaxed his tense body and he closed his eyes with a loud sigh.

'Seriously, what's going on with my body, passing out three times per week, acting like a bulimic teenager? For fucks sake, it's not fucking normal,' he debated with himself; but it was the truth – since the War has ended, he couldn't eat and sleep normally. Everytime he had laid on bed and tried to sleep there would be a flood of memories he'd tried to repress and before he knew, his consciousness had slipped away and he woke a couple minutes after. He could neither eat properly nor keep the meal in his system – he'd emptied its contents in the toilet bowl.

The pale youngsters head spun when he tried to stand up from the now already cold water. He reached for the end of the bathtube and slowly moved himself out of it. With wandless magic he summoned a soft towel and fresh clothes and dried his bony structure without sparing a look to it and dressed in black trousers and white button-up shirt, tucking its hem in and then stopped. He ran fingers across his hip bone where laid a strangely shaped scar and smiled sadly at the word the scars shape outlined.

He sat in a dimly lit room and his quill was slowly scribbling one word, over and over. The young wizard couldn't count the times he sat there with tears dripping down his pale face to stain the red-inked words on the paper. The silver-haired man stood up from the comfortable wooden armchair with white cushions everytime the scribbling stopped. With an enraged expression on his porcelain face he'd look from his book to see his son sit on a/the stool behind a/the large, elegantly shaped wooden table with carvings of roses. His descendant would quickly glance up at him with a sad expression and would return to write down the same word for countless more hours before his father would dismiss from the room with the wave of his hand and an Cruciatus curse to remind him to not make an appearance before his father when he knew he was at home. The young wizard fell to his knees but did not make a sound. When the curse stopped affecting him, he would stand up and took a few painful steps, walked through the door and silently closed it behind him. Then he would cast a quick 'Scourgify' with his wand to clean the bloodied shirt and slowly walked to his room where he collapsed on the bed with his clothes on. The last few tears would fall and he'd cover himself with the silky quilt and slowly fall asleep with one last sentence escaping his lips:'' I'm fucking disgusting.''

''...ter, are you alright? Master?'' called a soft voice to wake the young man from his thoughts.

''Excuse me Starry, what did you want?'' replied the blond man silently while exiting the bathroom to see the named elf on the corridor. Starry was an old, scrawny elf with a large head which resembled triangle with softened edges. The elf's skintone was slightly orange, his arms and legs disproprotionally long and he wore nothing but the black pullover which was too large for his thin and little body.

''Starry just checking if Master's allright,'' the elf said quickly, worry reflecting in his eyes.

''Yes, I'm fine, do not worry about me,'' the young wizard said, smiled weakly and then glanced at portraits, which were pretending they're not even slightly interested and the blond sighed.

''Is that all, Starry? I would like to lie down now.''

''Yes Master, Starry don't want keeps you waiting; Starry gots one thing to gives you,'' Starry said and handed Draco an envelope with his name written on it and then the elf disappeared with a loud crack, leaving his Master with a shocked expression on his delicate face. Draco slowly turned around and slowly walked back to his room and sat on the red, stuffed armchair which was positioned by the balcony. With precision, his elegant fingers opened the envelope and he read the content of the letter:

Malfoy,

I'm sorry to bother you but Snape left you some of his belongings in his Will. The Ministry wanted to owl you to come to the Ministry but I said I'd represent you and they let me; so all you have to do is to sign the papers and you'll be done with this. Just send me where and when you want to sign those with Sev.

I hope you don't mind my intrusion.

Sincerily,

Harry Potter

Draco couldn't believe that one Harry Potter wrote to him and was offering help to Draco. It was a small matter and didn't take a lot of Potters time and effort but Draco was irritated and at the same time thankful for his intervention. Since the War has ended, he led a quiet life and tried to avoid the Ministry as much as possible, but at the same time he didn't wish for Potter to help him in any matter for he already felt like he owed the Chosen One his life.

His father was becoming his old self again, heartless bastard without any morals in the end of Draco's third year. He punished the boy and his mother, had his ancestor punished by the Dark Lord with the Dark Mark, left him to figure out tasks that were given to him on his own. He'd nearly crushed under the pressure that his father and Lord Voldemort pushed on him. Even after Dumbledore was dead, after he let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and let them ravage the school and its inhabitants.

In the process he had become dead inside. The only thing he had thought when he performed his duties was of his beloved mother which he knew would be dead the minute he would rebel against his mad fathers and the Dark Lords will. At the end of the War he walked around the Hogwarts, panicked at the number of the dead bodies of students that laid around, the desolation the fight had left behind. Silent tears would run down his face and the look of a pure horror showed on his face, the reflection of the deepest sadness in his eyes. And then he found himself in front of the Room of Requirements. By now, he was left with no tears to shed and he turned around to find the wall behind him and slowly slid down the wall where the entry of Room of Requirements once was. He put his head on his knees, hugged his legs and began to repeat three words in silent whisper.

''I just couldn't,'' meaning he could not let his mother die because of him. But when he saw at what expense he had saved his mothers life, he just didn't feel like he had done anything right.

In that state he was found by Harry after a couple of hours after Harry killed Voldemort. The Chosen One kneeled down and put his hand on the blonds head and stroked the soft hair slowly.

''When you're ready, come to me and I'll give you your wand. I believe that if I gave it to you now, you'd only break it, and we can't let that happen to the Elder Wand, can we?,'' he said quietly and tried to give Draco an awkward hug.

''Potter... Just go, please, and stop beeing so fucking noble to those who do not deserve it,'' Draco said quietly and pushed Harry softly to escape the awkward embrace he found himself in.

The Saviour just murmured something and left Draco to his own thoughts.

After the last day of the War, the Death Eaters were presecuted and mainly had to serve a sentence in Azkaban for the rest of their life. Some of the associates, which didn't wore the Mark, had to pay to the Ministry a large amount of money and were kept in house arrest, supervised by the Aurors; some of them just had to pay the fine and do the community work for there was a lot of material damage done to the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts.

Draco punishment was to pay the fine and was kept in house arrest and was supervised by Auror Milkins for two years after the War; of course the punishment was quite mild because Potter and Granger testified for Draco. After two years of the silent company of one Auror Milkins, Draco went back to Hogwarts to finish his education. His final N.E.W.T.'s results were considerably good and he applied to St. Mungo's School for Mediwizards and Mediwitches in London. He finished his education after two years of hard studying and started to work at the St. Mungo's hospital.

Even though he was diligent at work, he couldn't keep himself mentally stable when he got off work everyday. He started to work overtime to keep his mind busy and hardly slept anymore for he had constant nightmares about the time he served to Lord Voldemort or about his fathers punishments. After three years of working overtime, his body couldn't take the stressed schedule anymore and he fell ill. His superior, Mediwitch Gray, had nearly had to force him to go on the sick leave for a month to recover from severe pneumonia which left him unconscious everytime he got up too quickly; but he still refused any medical help except the antibiotical potions.

And there he was now, alone with his thoughts of the past. And surprisingly, thoughts about Potter. At first it was weird to think over and over about every memory of Potter. He couldn't understand why the brunette was constantly occupying his mind. He was surprised when he came to a conclusion: Potter was on his mind since he met the brunette at the Diagon Alley. And slowly, he came to terms with the fact that the Saviour wouldn't leave his mind, even though he haven't seen him for at leas a year.

Draco was suddenly brought back from his thoughts by the knock on his door. The blonde slowly stood up and went to open the door. He was honestly surprised to see Potter pacing in front of the door nervously.

''How..? What..? Potter, how did you get in?,'' Draco spoke in a small voice.

''What are you doing?!'' Potter yelled.

Draco blinked and shook his head in misunderstanding.

''I was informed by your boss that you are alone without any medical attention with a fucking pneumonia? You know what, we may have hated eachother in the past but even I don't wish you to die of a fucking pneumonia which is, if you didn't know even though you are a Mediwizard, cureable, you troll!'' Potter tried to keep himself from exploding.

The blonde wiped the surprised expression from face and replaced it with the usual neutral. He turned around, let Potter in and gestured to the unexpected guest to sit. Potter stormed in and angrily threw himself on the couch, which matched the red armchair.

''Since when do you give a damn what happens with me? And you still didn't explain how did you manage to come through the protection charms,'' Draco uttered in a cool voice while he carefully walked past Potter, sat on the red armchair and examined the Chosen One from head to toe. The latter wore the Auror robes, a pair of black trousers and a stretched blue pullover with the sneakers. Even in his awful state of mind and body he laughed freely at Potter whom couldn't decide between beeing angry at Draco and beeing curious for he had never seen his former enemy laugh.

''Look, I ment to come here anyway, you have to sign the documents, and then I went to the 's to visit Hermione and your boss accidentallly came by. She asked me about your health after I told her I wrote to you. She explained to me that you are not taking any painkillers, any pain relieving potions, nothing, and she was worried about you, so I came here,'' Harry explained with a frown on his face.

''Potter, do not worry about me, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And I am asking you the last time before I throw you out, how did you come through the wards?,'' Draco drawled in a quiet voice. He was losing his patience with the Golden Boy. The young aristocrat prefered the quiet company of the Malfoy Manor.

Harry sighed and gave a strange look to Draco. He got up and walked around the room, admiring the beautifully craved sculptures and delicately painted pictures. He passed astonished Draco and slipped on the balcony. The blond got up and carefully walked after the Auror to the balcony. He leaned on the railing and panted heavily. He was tired and wanted to go back to sleep.

Potter looked worriedly at the pale young man next to him and awkwardly tapped on his shoulder.

''Your house elf let me in. You don't have to worry, the wards are still on. Just sign the papers and I'll go and send here one of the mediwizards to take care of you. You look awful Malfoy, honestly,'' he said with a sad voice and turned to walk inside Draco's room again. The blonds eyes widened in surprise. Potter actually wasn't a temperamental child anymore. And even more surprisingly, he cared about Draco's well-being. Even though he was suspicious why Potter cared, he knew that it was true. But why did Starry let Potter in without his permission? He had to ask Starry after Potter left.

Draco followed Potter inside and sat on the armchair again. He motioned to Potter to give him the papers he was holding in his hands.

The mediwizard focused on Snape's Will and the order which was enclosed with it. He couldn't properly concentrate on the documents because his vision began to get blurry. He thumbed to the end of the leaves and summoned his pen. His hands were shaking badly and he hurriedly signed the papers and returned them to the Boy Wonder.

Harry lowered his gaze at his shaking hands from the painting of Aphrodite. He looked suspiciously at Draco and asked him if he was allright. The blonds stare was unfocused and the tremor in his hands worsened. He dropped the documents on the table and pushed them towards Potter.

''I'm fine, Potter. I signed the papers. You can leave now,'' he mumbled. He was going to faint and he wanted Potter out of his sight before that happened.

Potter took the documents and shrunk them so he could put them in the pocket of his red robes. He carefully placed them in the inner pocket of his robes and opened his mouth to bid farewell to Malfoy. But then he heard a loud thud and looked up.

Malfoy fell on the floor. His breathing was slow and painful, his eyes seeing white and his body trembling slightly. Harry hurried to his side and performed a simple diagnostic spell. The bright light stopped at Malfoys head and his lungs, which meant that young man didn't get enough oxygen to his brain. Harry cast Rennervate and quickly thought about any medical spell that could help Draco. His breathing was suddenly stopped and Harry panicked. He could think only about one spell he was taught in the Auror Training, Cerebrum oxygenum. He quickly cast it and tried to find the pulse on Dracos neck.

The Malfoy heir began to cough and and slowly, his pulse was back. He greedily sucked the air in his lungs and slowly opened his eyes.

''That's it! I'm taking you to the St. Mungo's,'' Harry spat out and lifted Malfoy and carried him to the fireplace he saw by the door. He took some powder and Flooed them to the hospital.