After the war, Harry had a really tough time getting through the motions like he did when he was at school, even when his motions were filled with Voldemort or some other dangerous drama happening, at least once a year. He had a schedule at Hogwarts and that's what made him feel safe, secure. On most days it was the routine that he would go through each day consistently that made him think to himself 'At least I have Hogwarts and my friends.' For instance all he had to do at his beloved school was, get up, wake Ron, get dressed, go to classes, come back from classes, got to sleep and repeat. He didn't have to worry about his inevitable fight that he had to do with Voldemort at some point because he was too busy having his head stuck in between a book at the insistence of Hermione and her shrill voice shrieking '"Homework, Harry!"'. After the search for the Horcux's and the whole battle though, he struggled and everyone noticed, especially Hermione. So one day, when Hermione was giving him a particularly severe frown as he stumbled his way into his kitchen in search of food for "breakfast" at 2:00pm she decided to act upon her worry for her best friend.
"Harry.." She said softly, walking up to him tentatively and putting a gentle hand on his arm, which made him jerk a bit and gaze around blearily, as if he were still half asleep. His appearance was certainly that way, his hair was all over the place, more so than usual and his boxer shorts and t shirt he was wearing as pajamas were rumpled with with the evidence of a restless night.
"Harry," She started again, a little more firmly this time. Harry yawned and stretched, his shirt riding up a little bit, Hermione rolled her eyes, It was two in the afternoon for Merlin's sake!
"Hey 'Mione, What are you doing here?" He asked as he walked to the cupboard and rummaged through it, sighing when he found nothing. "Kreacher!" Harry called, and quickly there was an old and worn house elf in front of him, his skin wrinkled and large round eyes looking up at Harry with, blanketed loyalty.
"Yes Master?" Kreacher croaked out positioning himself into a bow as Hermione watched, frowning a little.
"Would you be able to pop into Diagon Alley for me and get me some food so I can make breakfast?" Harry asked, voice a little think with sleep, looking down at the elf who looked more than pleased than to do that for his master.
"Of course." Kreacher drawled, before bowing low to Harry again before apparating in a quick blink. Harry swiveled around again to look at Hermione.
"You do know it is 2 o clock in the afternoon, Harry." She said disapprovingly.
He looked around at the kitchen, not much had changed about it since Sirius died leaving Gimmauld place in his name, the ceiling paint was still peeling and yellowing with neglect and the drawers and cabinets looked as if they would fall off their hinges soon.
"Is it really?" He asked flippantly. "I hadn't noticed."
Hermione sighed exasperatedly, rubbing a delicate hand through her hair, a habit she no doubt picked up from Harry himself.
"Of course you hadn't."
Harry looked at her again, a little guiltily.
"Sorry, Hermione. What is it that you want? You have something you want to say I can see it in your face."
He grinned a little and Hermione smiled back, somewhat sadly.
"Oh, I think you should take a seat, you may need one."
Harry looked reproachful for a second before shuffling his way over to a seat and heaving himself down into it, running his hand through his hair, just as she had to hers before and making his own hair even more rumpled. Hermione smiled slightly. She had so picked up that habit from Harry.
"Okay," Harry said, looking at her intently and giving a nod, signifying she could talk.
"Harry," She said slowly. "You know it's been a while since.. the war.. And well Ron and I .. Well, everyone really, are worried about you Harry. You haven't been doing anything since the battle and I know it was hard for you, especially you, but that doesn't mean you can hide away in this house and only come out once a week for family dinners at the Burrow. You need to start taking the steps to a new life Harry. Leave behind all those awful memories and start being happy again. Start living again."
Harry looked at her for a while, slowly processing what he had told him, before looking down and letting out a breath that was a little shaky.
"How though? How do I do that Hermione?" He mumbled so quietly she had to lean down to hear it through the thick black hair falling around his down turned face.
Hermione stared at him for a second before her eyes turned to look at the still dark hallway, even though it was 2 o clock.
"Maybe you should start with a job." She replied.
"I don't want to be an Auror anymore I told you and Ron that." He responded, looking at her again, his glasses reflecting in her eyes from the thin sliver of light coming from the tore in one of the dusty black curtains near the window that behind it, the sun was streaming in from.
"Well you don't have to be, no one said that, maybe it's what people expected but if you don't want to then that's fine. Would you like a job in the Ministry? I could get you a position if you wanted it, but you could probably get in on your own."
"Er, no thanks, not really my thing. Could you imagine me doing paperwork at a desk Hermione? I mean really. No, I want to help people."
Hermione turned to stare at him, and Harry swore he could hear the clogs turning in her brain, And then as he expected her face brightened considerably.
"I've got it!" She began, almost jumping up from her seat at the table, "You could be a Healer!"
And that's how it all started.
Harry replied eagerly to that saying he thought he had enough will power to become a Healer and he would be helping people as well just like he wanted. It all came down to Hermione's help that he got on his feet that day after 6 months after the final battle at Hogwarts.
His Healer training was grueling especially when he saw a familiar face in the crowd that he was amongst. It was Draco Malfoy. Harry had groaned internally thinking something along the lines of 'Of course he's here. Of course Draco Malfoy would want to be a Healer like me.' But somehow he managed to get through his training but not without Harry and Draco glancing and studying each other at the center they were being trained at almost everyday. Harry had decided straight away that Malfoy was all business now. He was tone was clipped whenever he talked to anyone and one day someone had even dared to ask him out on a date. It was safe to say they had received the most humiliating flat-out rejection in the history of ever, and that, for some reason bought a feeling of satisfaction to Harry so deep he thought he could feel it in his bones. He shook it off thinking that it was because of the way Malfoy's cool mask slipped when the girl asked him if he wanted to go out on a date, and he caught the emotion of embarrassment and shock. Though he hadn't seen him in only about 7 months he looked better than Harry had remembered. He still had a long lithe body but it had become slightly infused with a little muscle making him seem more manly than he had previously and his eyes, previously a hard steel gray were now a molten silver. Safe to say it wasn't the best 2 years of his life but he had a lot more healing experience now, though did he even have any before that, except that of the simple 'Episkey' spell he had learnt from Luna in 6th year?
Somehow in that time in Healer training the insults they had once shared in school became less and less until they just glared at each other, they both knew it was petty but they had both changed and they weren't quite sure what to make of the other so they stuck with what they knew; heated glares filled with a once petty school boy rivalry too cherished (in an odd way) to be easily left behind, but there was also an underlying confusion and curiousity.
Healer training came and went pretty quickly much to Harry's surprise and it was probably because of the way he always had entertainment, well if you could call letting Draco Malfoy getting under his skin so easily and effortlessly with some glares, entertainment.
Harry didn't know why he let him get under his skin. It had always been that way though. It was like it was a special talent of his. He could get Harry riled up and ready to punch him in the face under the space of 5 minutes with just a couple of skillfully placed glares. Maybe it was the way he carried himself that made Harry's skin crawl with an emotion he did not know, just filled to the brim with self confidence, but overly so, so much that he could be seen as arrogant and rude. Harry hated it. Or it could be the way he treats people, even his patients. He is clipped and severe, the way he sneers and insults people so flippantly could make just about anyone cower, all but probably Harry and maybe some of the more traumatized patients who have been through a lot more scarier and darker things than a sneer and jab at their state of appearance from a Ex-Death Eater- Turned-Healer. Harry hated that too. Or perhaps it could also be the way that he just exists, that could get under Harry's skin. Even if he is down the other side of the ward, talking to a patient about how they ended up having a flower pot glued to their left foot, so much so that that the Healers working on the patient had no idea how to get it off, could he still feel his presence and lingering smoldering glares that he shot at him, all the way at the other side of the ward, that made him fume internally and his skin to crawl with the urge to not look up and spit an immature insult at him like, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
Draco Malfoy had a way of getting under his skin like no other and Harry just didn't know why.
"Hi!"
Harry looked up from his paper, absently sipping his coffee that had gone a bit cold since he'd been in the cafeteria for about 30 minutes.
"Oh, hey," he sighed as the girl sat next to him looking just a little too energetic for this time of night. Actually, morning he thought as he looked at his watch, taking another sip of his coffee and looked as the little numbers flipped to 3:02am.
"No need to look so happy to see me, Harry." Grinned the girl, sarcasm lacing her tone the way a ballerina laced up her shoes.
"Sorry Macy, big night you know." Harry uttered, eyes closing slowly in sleepiness and then opening sluggishly as her voice drifted over to him.
"Yeah, yeah. It's always a big night in this job. I mean really, what did you think you were going to get in this profession, a 10 hour sleep every night? Please." Macy sniggered as she flipped her blonde hair behind her shoulder, glancing around the cafeteria as if she actually cared about the food at the counter in the very front of the room. Harry knew she ate at home before every shift.
Macy was one of Harry's closest friends at St. Mungos. She was quite pretty with her wavy blonde hair and green-y blue-ish eyes, She was also rather funny with her quick wit and sniggering sarcasm, and that's what Harry liked about her. He knew she wasn't interested in a relationship either which let Harry breathe slightly easier. Hermione always pestered him about her asking if they were 'dating'. The answer was always a flat out 'No, Hermione, for the last time we don't feel that way about each other.' followed by a 'Harry, come on, you need to get back in the game! Lord knows why you broke it off with Ginny, you're just really lucky she understood and you guys are still friends! I can find you a nice girl and I promise you'll like her. Please, Harry!' But that was the problem, he didn't want to. He had no doubts that Hermione could find him a nice girl but he didn't feel the drive to date. Besides, he thought to himself, my work keeps me way too busy.
He broke it off with Ginny after the war ended and before he went into his downward spiral. She didn't get why at first and was furious and upset but Harry managed to get her to calm down slightly and let him talk to her, albeit reluctantly.
"Why Harry? We can make it work I swear! I know we could!" Ginny babbled frantically, her fiery red hair whipping in her face as the wind blew it, as she hastily threw it back again only to have it in her face once more. They were outside the Burrow everyone still inside, everyone still grieving Fred, although his funeral was 3 weeks ago the death of him was a heavy blow that would take forever to repair.
"Ginny," He started trying to calm her. Her hand was in his. "We just can't okay? I don't think I can be with you, the war has changed me, changed everyone as a matter of fact. We are different people, and I am really very sorry for doing this so early after Fred's funeral but I can't do it Ginny I can't and I would've been hurting us both more if I broke it off even more later than I am now. I know your feelings for me aren't as strong for me as they once were. I see it and it's like that with me as well. I still love you Gin, but more in a sisterly way now."
She looked like a lioness for a moment, like a lioness about to kill its prey, before her eyes dimmed with sadness and understanding.
"Yeah, I-uh, guess I just had this whole idea in my head, you know, the 'perfect life' that we could have had, that was what people expected us to do anyway, get married and have kids, I started believing it myself, " She uttered quietly, before flinging herself at Harry, her arms around his neck. He smiled, relieved that she understood.
"C-Can we still be friends then?" He asked tentatively, "I don't want it to be awkward with you, because we are still close, it's just my romantic feelings for you aren't there anymore, like I said I've changed and you've changed but that still doesn't mean we can't be friends right?"
She let go of his neck, before smiling at him softly. "Of course, Harry. I'd like that."
Harry came back to himself when he heard and saw Macy snapping her fingers in his face. He shook his head quickly before wracking his brain for what she had said before.. Oh right something about not getting a ten hour sleep being a Healer.
"I know, I know. Now tell me, what happened with that patient you had today. Didn't she get hexed with a Crucio..?" Drifting off , he stared imploringly at Macy and knew she was just bursting to tell him what happened, she always got the good back stories with the patients seeing as she worked in the Dark Curses Department that she was assigned to.
"Yup! And then she ended up passing out from the pain and the Aurors found her tied up in an abandoned warehouse! Just left there! Of course the Aurors searched everywhere, all around the building but they didn't find anyone. But I find it terribly horrifying! She didn't even do anything to get kidnapped like that! She was simply walking home from work!" Then she gasped, eyes widening in horror. "Oh no, Harry!" She paused for the theatricality of the moment. "What if I'm next!?"
Oh yeah, he forgot to mention she could be a bit of a drama queen.
He chuckled at her, eyes crinkling merrily as he laughed at her. "Harry! This isn't something to be laughing about!" she exclaimed in a slightly higher pitched voice.
Oh man, sometimes Macy reminded him of Hermione.
"Harry! Stop it! It isn't funny!" Macy insisted, hitting him on the shoulder, her little hands doing nothing but adding fuel to the fire as he laughed harder. Finally, her lips began to tug into a little smile and soon enough she was giggling too.
"Okay, well, perhaps not." She admitted softly, still smiling.
"You live down the street Macy," he heaved as his laughter subsided. "And besides, I walk you home so you really have nothing to worry about."
"Oh yes, having the Boy Who Lived as my personal escort home will definitely ward off those nasty wannabe Death Eaters." She stated, eyes scanning the cafeteria again.
"Well of course," Harry said smiling, before poking his tongue out at her. "Anyway my shift starts in about 2 minutes so I better get going, keep me updated on that will you?" He asked as he got out of his seat at the table he was sitting at.
"Sure." She said as she ruffled in her teal blue handbag before muttering a "A-ha!" and pulling out a copy of Witch-Weekly, setting it down on the table before her, and taking a gulp of his cold coffee he had left on the table.
"Urgh. That's gross," she muttered, quickly casting a warming spell on it and taking another sip, sighing and saying "That's better."
Harry bent down and gave her a peck on the cheek before stalking off, turning away and waving goodbye at her, but she was already too absorbed in Witch-Weekly to notice.
Walking swiftly to the ward where he was assigned to that year, he waved his wand at the little box near the door, it, recognising the wand and who it belonged to, it glowed a bright green as he turned the door handle and walked in.
Automatically he felt his eyes on him, the same eyes he always feels on him whenever he walks in. He needs to get someone else to look at, Harry thought as his eyes went to that person.
Draco Malfoy, stood there, as pretentious as ever, checking on the stats of one of his patients, was looking at him in the most intense way that Harry couldn't even begin to describe the emotions in that gaze. You thought he would be used to it seeing as he got the same gaze every time they saw each other. He shrugged it off as Malfoy's gaze flittered away from his quickly as he met his eyes. Good, thought Harry.
He straightened himself and tried in vain to flatten his hair that, as always, stood up in all different angles. Sighing, realising that he was never going to tame his hair he started walking to his part of the ward where his patients were sleeping peacefully. He walked up Alice's bed, a patient of his, and a dainty one at that, she was a girl with shiny black hair and looked about as strong as a glass vase, she was about in her early 20's, much like Harry, and had very tanned skin. Harry studied her for a while checking their was no outer problems before picking up the clip board at the end of her bed and checking on how she was doing internally.
Satisfied that she and all of his other patients were stable, he went into his office at the very end of the ward, right near the windows that let the moonlight come through them and showed the bustling streets of London below. Every Healer had their own office, in this ward there were 4 Healers. Malfoy, another called McQuaid, one called Paisley and himself. They were mostly in charge of the people who were in comas, induced or otherwise, but sometimes Harry, and to his displeasure Malfoy, would volunteer to work at the Unfortunate and Silly Incidents ward. He mostly did it for the laughs he would get out of it and the stories he told Macy later on. He volunteered there every Sunday night and so did Malfoy. Something he didn't understand though is that out of all the shifts Malfoy was to do in that ward, that it had to be the same as his.
Shaking his head slightly, he walked over to his desk before shuffling some paperwork. He couldn't wait to go home.
A/N: Okayyyyyyy folks so um yup that's the first chapter I hope you like it yayyyy and yeah pls review well, either way I have a feeling I will go on with this fic anyway. Oh and also this is the second upload (I deleted the first one) for Healing Hearts because one of my real life friends found it and I was going to write smut in it and well.. Do you see where I'm going there? I couldn't let her see my gay smut! So, anyway,I made another account purely for the basis of M related fics. Be proud okay! Feedback? Thanks so much for reading guys!
