House: Ravenclaw
Word Count: 946
Category: Drabble
Prompt(s): [Action] Having a muggle medical exam as a witch/wizard
Year: Head
Draco Malfoy is not alright - and everyone can see it. He's paler than a sheet of paper and unnaturally thin. Yet, he refuses to go to St. Mungo's - no, he can't bear the glares that are bound to be sent his way. It's been a year since his last medical exam, he's far overdue for another one, yet he can't see any alternative to St. Mungo's, and so he just doesn't go.
It ends up being Theo who suggests the perfect alternative - going to a muggle doctor instead of heading to St. Mungo's.
Draco never thought he'd get a muggle medical exam instead of a magical one. Yet he sits in a relatively empty waiting room, listening to the slow music that plays over the radio systems, and waiting to be called into the examination room. He can remember the look of utter shock on Theo's face when he'd agreed to go, the wide eyes and open mouth. It was warranted, of course, years of hating all sorts of muggle things and here he was agreeing to see a muggle doctor. It was absurd, yet it was the only option Draco could bear. He has to admit he's relieved about going to a muggle instead of a wizard. He's sure the diagnosis won't be pleasant, and perhaps it'll make it all feel less real if it's given to him by a muggle instead.
His name is called, and he hesitantly slips into the odd looking room. The walls are painted in vibrant colors, there are stacks of papers on a small counter, and there's a file with his name on it as well. He's barely sat down on the misshapen couch before the door to the room opens. A woman in a long white coat rushes in. She looks to be around the same age as his mother, and she's smiling at him. Draco doesn't know whether to be alarmed or relieved by that fact - no one's smiled at him in a long time after all.
He begins to realize, as time goes on and she talks to him, that perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps getting a diagnosis from her will only feel all the more real. After all, she's been nothing but kind smiles and helpful words. She's been doing her job diligently and effectively, while sparing him the glares he's sure he'd have received if he'd gone to St. Mungo's. She pulls an odd looking metal thing out of her coat, putting the two plastic pieces up top into her ears before moving towards him. He looks at her curiously, which only leads her to smile.
"It's a stethoscope," she explains, "it helps me listen to your heartbeat."
He lets out a sigh of relief, posture relaxing as the cool metal stethoscope touches his skin. It's a muggle medical exam, he reminds himself, it's not going to be like anything he's used to. He takes a few deep breaths in and out, before she removes it from his skin. He steps onto a scale for her to weigh him, allows her to measure his height, before plopping back onto his previous seat. She jots a few things down, her eyebrows furrowing slightly before she turns back to him with a smile. This time she has another odd contraption, and his eyebrows furrow once again in confusion.
"It's to measure your pulse," she says with a smile, before rolling up his left sleeve. He tenses, breath hitching and eyes widening. She studies the dark mark that's now heavily faded on his forearm, a small smile creeping up at the corners of her lips. Her head snaps up to him, and her smile grows wider as she fastens the contraption around his arm.
"Nice tattoo."
"Oh, thank you," he mumbles, looking away slightly. He doesn't have it in him to tell her what it means. She moves away after a few more minutes, making more small talk and jotting down more notes onto her clipboard. This time he sits in silence as she does so, and finally, after a dreadful five minutes of silence she looks back over her clipboard at him. Her gaze is firm and more serious than before, and Draco knows that there's no taking what she's about to say as a joke.
"You're very malnourished," she informs him, "you lack necessary iron, vitamin D, and protein - among other things."
"Here," she continues, handing him a list of foods and activities, "this list tells you what you should be doing and eating in order to regain your health."
"Thank you," he says as she smiles up at him. She hands him a couple other things before her gaze turns serious again.
"I also suggest," she begins, handing him a small business card, "seeing a therapist."
He doesn't know whether to feel offended or relieved that she's suggesting this to him. Draco knows that both Theo and Blaise are seeing therapists for their wartime trauma - Pansy isn't, though that's only because she's far too proud to admit she needs help.
"Why?" It comes off far more blunt than he'd intended, and yet the doctor only smiles.
"For your well-being," she replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He smiles and thanks her, grabbing his coat and leaving.
It's only when he's home that he looks at the business card in his hand. It's for a therapist, he notices, and with a sigh he dials the number listed. It's a rash decision, one he would have never made a year ago.
But if a muggle medical exam helped him then who's to say that a muggle therapist won't do the same.