AN: This will be a Dramoine, but I'm carrying off from the end of the war so Hermione is still currently with Ron. Rated M for upcoming chapters. This isn't BETA'd.
This is also from the view of Draco, instead of Hermione as my story Healing is from. It will be considered a stand alone, but for those who are reading Healing, I hope you get equal satisfaction from this perspective. *Disclaimer* I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or her work.
The days following the war were dark for those who had followed the Dark Lord. Many of the Death Eaters had been filed off to Azkaban, but the Malfoy's hadn't. Lucius knew he was most likely facing a life sentence for his actions before they defected and was detained in Azkaban until his hearing. He gave the Ministry all the information he had to protect his son and wife from a future he dreaded would be his reality. Draco was questioned and was cleared of all charges due to most of his crimes being committed while underage as well as a convincing letter from Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The Wizengamot also concluded he was to see a Healer every week. Should he not attend for reasons not prearranged, he was to return and plead himself innocent to the Wizengamot. He and his mother were under house arrest as part of their sentence. His sentence was only for the summer, but Narcissa's was a five-year sentence for harboring the Dark Lord in their home. The only exceptions to the house arrest were to go to his appointments, and to his godfather's funeral.
Draco looked in the mirror fixing his steel grey tie. Today he will say goodbye to the one man who saved him. The one who killed Dumbledore when he could not. The one who successfully played both sides until his death. The one who kept him alive when there wasn't an ounce of hope. A tear escaped his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. He is a Malfoy. Malfoy's don't cry. Malfoy's are strong. He needed to be strong for his mother. Draco knew the connection his mother and Snape had. A bond like brother and sister, closer she was to him than her own sisters.
Opening the door after a faint knock, Draco and Narcissa left with their two Auror escorts to go to Godric's Hollow where Snape was to be buried. There weren't many people in attendance. Himself, his mum, Greg Goyle, a fair few other Slytherin students, Professor McGonagall, the minister and of course the Golden Trio. He started to wonder why they'd be there as Kingsley Shacklebolt started giving the Eulogy, followed by a short speech from Potter.
Today I stand here in regret. For many years I believed Professor Snape was a villain. He was not. He was so much more. He was a protector, a mentor, and a friend. He was friends with my mother for many years and protected me as best he could against harm during my time at Hogwarts with giving himself away, not that I made it easy for him. He protected those he cared for deeply, going as far as unbreakable vows. He passed his final thoughts on to me to prove his innocence. In these memories I found closure. The years of hatred I had for him was ill placed. I truly regret not being able to get to know him better. He will never be forgotten for the sacrifices he made and the help in the defeat against Voldemort.
Potter flashed Draco a look of sorrow before taking his seat. Draco glanced over at his mother, watching her silent tears fall from her eyes as they buried his godfather.
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Narcissa encouraged Draco to return to school and complete his N.E.W.T.'s by sending a letter to Shacklebolt stating it may give him a chance to lead a normal future life. Shacklebolt had agreed with the exception he was to take Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had awarded those that had played a part of the winning side with an automatic Outstanding. Draco was already dreading that class. He listened to his mother explain all the benefits of him attending Hogwarts and the opportunities that would present themselves. It was almost a relief when the Auror came to take him to his first healer appointment.
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Arriving at St. Mungo's, the Auror escorted him up to the fifth floor. Looking around Draco noticed it had recently been remodeled, assuming it was to add this new type of healing. The Auror had told him this specific healer was what muggles called a therapist. Someone who would talk about his problems and help him move forward. Not bloody likely, he thought.
A petite witch about mid-thirties, with golden brown hair and bright blue eyes, came out of her office. Smiling at him, Draco stood a bit straighter and extended his hand as she had. He then followed her into her office, looking around. It was a large room, though the lights were dimmed. There was also an unlit fireplace. The office reminded him of the dungeons at Hogwarts. He looked at the nameplate on the top of her desk; Estella Macorm, Ph.D. She pointed to the seat across her desk. He sat.
"Hello Mr. Malfoy. I hope the atmosphere of this room makes you comfortable. We will be here more or less weekly, and the room itself will alter its decor according to the person I am meeting with as it is charmed to make you more comfortable. I understand you are here because the Wizengamot has forced you into weekly meetings with me. I will tell you now Mr. Malfoy, that I intend to help you. I also expect that you will not just sit there and stare, that you will take part. I expect you to talk to me, or I will report back that you have not and you will be sent to Azkaban. Have I made myself very clear?" Estella spoke firmly.
"Crystal." Draco sarcastically said rolling his eyes.
"Glad we have an understanding. Now, if you'll kindly move to the more comfortable chairs, we can start today by getting to know each other a little bit." Estella motioned her hand to the chairs behind them as she stood and walked over to the high back chair, grabbing a quill and parchment. "My name is Estella, I'm what is known as a therapist in the Muggle world, where I studied psychology. I am a pure-blood, such as yourself. My favorite color is purple. I'm married to a half-blood and we've no children. Now tell me a bit about yourself."
Huffing, Draco rolled his eyes sitting on a long soda. "You already know my name, you already know my blood status, you already know I'm not married. My favorite color is green."
"Right, I asked to get to know you, not for you to confirm what I already knew. Try again." Estella said calmly.
Looking at her, he realized she was a no-nonsense type of woman. Much like his mother. He didn't know what to say. After thinking a few minutes, "I enjoy going to France, though I haven't been since I was a kid. I've been playing Quidditch since I was four, and I find the aspect of this psychology thing you speak of, fake. I don't believe you can help me."
Smiling Estella wrote on her papers. "Good. Now, tell me, what was life as a child like in the Manor? You played Quidditch, can I assume you played in your backyard with some friends?"
He could handle talking about Quidditch. He talked about all the times he played with his friends. Life as a child was easy. The elves pretty much raised him. His mother and father were constantly increasing their status after the first fall of the Dark Lord, rising higher and higher to the top. They spent meals together and his parents constantly bought him new things to make sure he always had the best. His childhood life was, for him, amazing. Better than most. His first friends were Theo, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. They'd practice playing Quidditch in his backyard from sunup to sundown. Theo always played the Keeper, Crabbe and Goyle switched between playing Beaters and Chasers. Blaise and himself always switched between playing a Chaser and Seeker.
A full hour had passed when Draco bid farewell to Estella. This would be easier than he thought. Though, going to sleep that night proved otherwise. He woke in sheer panic and sweat, having had a nightmare Crabbe's death. He grabbed a dreamless sleep potion and fell back to sleep.
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The next few meetings with Estella got steadily worse. She forbid him to take the dreamless sleep potion as he had become addicted to it. She had contacted all the local apothecaries to inform them he was not allowed to purchase the potion or ingredients at any cost or they will face trial in front of the Wizengamot.
"Mr. Malfoy, I think we need to meet twice this week as our session today will be much shorter due to your lack of punctuality," Estella said as she looked over her calendar. "Ah, yes, three days from today at two should do it. I expect you to arrive in a timely manner."
"Maybe I would be here on time if you'd allow me to take a potion so I could sleep without waking up from these nightmares, you evil witch."
Sighing, Estella rubbed her temples. "You are by far my most stubborn client. It would do some good for you to be a bit nicer to people Mr. Malfoy, then perhaps, you'd get what you wanted. Until then, you also need to face your nightmares. Now, you've told me about the one with Crabbe, are there others you've been experiencing as of late?"
"Of course! Bloody hell woman! I can't wait to go to Hogwarts and get away from you."
"Ah, you think you might, but I will be coming to Hogwarts to help you further. I will see other students of course, but the Wizengamot wants to make sure you are my number one client, which means, where you go. I go. Including Hogwarts."
"Maybe I won't go then. I don't need you breathing down my back." He said with a sneer.
"You've already told me your mother isn't giving you a choice in this, and I wholeheartedly agree. I think you need to return to school and-" A knock on the door cut her off her sentence. "With a patient. Please have a seat in the tearoom and I'll be with you shortly." She announced before she lowered her voice and continued. "Maybe consider donating to a charity. Be nicer to folks so they'll be willing to accept you've made some changes after the whole Death Eater thing. It might help improve your image before you go back. People are going to associate you as a Death Eater and it's easier to overlook if they can see you're making changes."
Scowling at her, he just wanted to leave. Glancing at the clock he knew he still had another half an hour. Leaning back into his chair, ignoring what she just said, he answered her earlier question. "I have many nightmares. From Crabbe to the mudblood, to things I witnessed being under the Dark Lord."
"What muggle-born is that?"
"Granger." He closed his eyes, trying to get the image of her from his nightmare out of his head.
"Well, by the look on your face, it seems we've found a new topic. Tell me about it."
Covering his eyes, Draco rubbed them hard, to the point they were burning. He recalled her coming to his house and trying to avoid giving their identities away. Living with the Dark Lord only gave him hope that Potter would win. To see them there at his house made him lose hope. That he'd be stuck in the Dark Lords nightmare forever. Avoiding eye contact with Estella as he spoke in detail of the day she came to Malfoy Manor. He described Granger's screams, watching her blood trickle to the ground as she cried while Bellatrix carved her arm with a wicked look of pleasure. He saw her blood, red, like his own. That she wasn't different than he.
"Sounds like everything you believed in was falling apart."
Nodding, Draco continued his story. "I remember being frozen, trying to think how I'd be able to free her from my Aunt. When I knew it wasn't possible, I was trying to figure out how I could at least save Potter so he could save the world. I knew I'd die, but I would have rather died than live in a world with the Dark Lord as the leader. All for the greater good, right?"
"Indeed. Time is up I'm afraid. I think we should continue from here when I see you again in three days." She spoke softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Please remember my advice and consider different charities you could donate to, as well as your mannerisms."
He stood and walked to the door, opening it, coming face to face with the last person he wanted to see. Hermione Granger. He wanted to run and get out of there as fast as possible. "Move." He said in a cold tone.
"Now Mr. Malfoy what have we been talking about?" Estella scolded him.
"Move. Please." Draco managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Excuse me." Granger apologized as she sidestepped.
Draco pushed through her bumping her shoulder running as fast as he could to get out of there. He was in no way ready to see her yet. That night his nightmares were worse and more vivid as he dreamt about Hermione being tortured on his drawing room floor. He knew he'd get little sleep over the next few days. He paced the floors trying to get her out of his head. She looked shocked when she saw him. Shocked, but not scared. Should she have been scared? As Draco continued his pacing, the sun peeked in through his window. Watching it, he knew it was going to be a long three days with nothing to keep him occupied, but his thoughts. Thoughts of her.
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Knocking on Estella's door with a few minutes to spare, he was told to wait in the tea room. The Aurors decided he couldn't get into much trouble and left to the first floor as they always did to wait for him. Making himself some black tea, he waited rather impatiently. This must be her revenge for him showing up late the other day. As he finished he tea, he set on the table as someone entered the tearoom. Seeing who it was, he groaned.
"Hello Malfoy." She said in a rather cheery tone, though he could hear the force behind it.
"Granger." He sneered. "Seems Estella is late."
"Oh. You haven't been to see her yet?"
"Obviously not. Why would I continue sitting in here with you if I had?" Draco spat.
Rolling her eyes, she sat across from him ignoring his retort. "So I hear you're returning to Hogwarts?"
"Nothing gets past the Gryffindor Princess huh?"
"Just surprised me."
"It shouldn't."
"Well why are you coming back? I've decided t-"
He should have known she would be returning. The thought of her constantly being in his presence made him feel sick. He recalled his father's words every time she bested him and it made his blood boil. Interrupting her, he sneered as he spoke, "Not surprised you're going back. Always have to be the top. Miss know-it-all. Can't miss a single marking huh mudblood?"
Growling at him as she sneered back, she said "Trying to have a civil conversation with you is absolutely impossible Malfoy."
"Well then stop trying. I don't care to speak with YOUR kind." He would hit it where it hurts, maybe that would prevent her from coming back. She wouldn't want to constantly be around him.
"Really? After everything we've been through and the war we've won, you're STILL going to act like this Malfoy? Still a foul loathsome evil little cockroach huh? No one to love you? Did mummy not hug you enough as a child?" Granger growled standing in front of Draco.
Standing up with rage, he over-powered her petite frame. How DARE she insult his mother. After what his mother did for Potter he would have assumed she'd show more respect. "Listen here mudblood. You leave my mother out of this. My family is and will always be better than you."
"Mr. Malfoy if you are done, our session can start," Estella said calmly from the doorway though there was anger in her voice.
Glaring back at Granger who was standing tall as she glared back, he stormed off and slammed the door behind him. She was the one person that no matter how calm he was, could get under his skin. Always knew which button to press. Returning to Hogwarts suddenly looked a lot less appealing.
Estella wanted to continue where they had left off three days prior but Draco was still angry over the argument. As he ranted, Estella took quick notes.
"There is quite a bit of feelings bottled up for Ms. Granger. Have you considered why she annoys you?"
"Because she's a mudblood!" He yelled.
"Ah, see I don't think that's the answer. I'm sure other muggle-borns can be just as irritating to you. What makes Ms. Granger so special?" When Draco didn't respond, she went to her desk and pulled out a book. "Mr. Malfoy, I'd like you to write in this journal whenever you feel the need to get something off your chest. It is charmed so no one can read it but those you allow. That includes all thoughts. So for example, if you wanted to write about the nightmare of Ms. Granger and share that with me, you could. But say you also wrote how you are feeling towards her once you've figured it out, if you don't want to share that with me, then it would remain hidden. Understand?"
Draco took the book of blank pages. "Yes I understand."
Knowing their time was finished he got up to leave. Exiting the room he hadn't expected to see Granger asleep. Seeing her filled his bubble of anger once more. As he started down the stairs he heard Estella call for her. He decided to turn around to give her a piece of his mind when the door to Estella's office shut. He would just have to wait it out.
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The full hour had passed before Granger opened Estella's door. Standing on the top step Draco saw her walking towards him not paying attention to her surroundings. He sniggered at her, catching her attention. She had the same irritated look on her face whenever she saw him.
"You're still here? Nothing better to do Malfoy? I thought you'd be home asking mummy for a hug by now." Hermione said, the irritation confirmed in the tone of her voice.
The temporary calmness he had gained while waiting for her quickly diminished. The filthy mudblood was always running her mouth. He didn't know what Estella was on about. He had absolutely no feelings for her except to get her to shut her disrespecting mouth. He moved quickly towards her, not breaking eye contact as he did. He watched her eyes widen in fear, her chest quickly lifting up and down. Granger was scared. He stopped within inches of her face.
"Estella thought it might help me to do some charity. Help those in need after the war. I immediately thought of you and the Weaslebee's. If anyone was a perfect charity case it's you lot."
Draco hadn't prepared himself for what would happen next. Just as she had done in third year, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Having the reflexes of a seeker, he grabbed her wrist hard without a moment's hesitation. His mind was clouded with anger. He forcefully pushed her into the wall, daring her to speak with his eyes, but she didn't move. Just glared back at him. He could smell her perfume as he started to sweat.
"Let me go Malfoy." She said confidently.
"Or what? You going to stick your Weaslbee on me?" He spat.
"I can handle myself perfectly. I don't need Ron to fight my battles."
"Oh, that's right. I forgot the Gryffindor Princess always had to save him because he's a weak excuse for a Pure-Blood."
She rolled her eyes but didn't struggle against him. He felt intoxicated by her perfume. A vanilla, with a hint of something. The smell was driving him mad. Being on house arrest for the last few months, he hadn't been in close proximity to a female, other than his mother. To be this close to her, to feel her warm breath against his lips, he had to get away. Forcefully pushing himself away from her, he sneered, "Stay out of my sight." before turning and walking down the stairs.
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Laying in his bed, he couldn't get Granger out of his mind. What was the other smell? Vanilla with what? He feared it would drive him to insanity. Getting off his bed he went over to his desk pulling out a parchment and quill. Draco didn't know why he felt so compelled to write to her.
Trying to decide what will benefit more. Destroying the Weaslebee's home so they can make a new one, or just donating the money to them. Though that would be a lost cause because they wouldn't know what to do with it.
Draco didn't sign it. She would know who it was. If not he hoped it drove her to insanity like he was trying to figure out what her perfume smelled like. Attaching the letter to his owl, he handed it a treat and let the window open to find her. Now he could concentrate on something else. What he hadn't expected was a response when his owl returned not more than an hour later.
How about you focus on something that's actually helpful, like fixing up the school.
H. G.
There was no way he could help in fixing the school while on house arrest, not that he wanted to, but he was sure the cost was exponential. Opening his night drawer, he took a heavy pouch out, wrapped it tightly in packaging and sent it to Professor McGonagall as an anonymous donation. He wasn't ready to donate to improve his name, but he would be returning to the school he called home for the last seven years. To ensure it was being properly built meant money. Satisfied, he pulled out the journal Estella gave him and wrote at the top:
Why does Granger get under my skin? Why does Granger annoy me?
How does Granger make me feel? Angry
What makes Granger so special?Draco slammed the book shut. This assignment was beyond ridiculous. He just hoped he wouldn't have to see her again so soon. However, as it was, fate was never on his side.
