Author's Notes: 'Lo all! Miss me? So I realize I say this a LOT but I le'fail *looks sadly upon dozens of half-finished stories* I know I have other stuff to work on but my mind has fallen far from my beloved KH fandom and been beaten near-to-death by the wonderful world of Harry Potter. I have a few ideas kicking around, some of which will (hopefully) make it on to FF

Warnings: Terrible psychology, swearing and eventual man-man action

Other: New computer! It is about a zillion times faster than my old comp so maybe it'll do the same for my writing (Hahaha!...ha.)

"It's alright." Harry coaxed, his voice low and soothing. "You've made great progress so far. Just a bit more and you're done."

The woman, an older witch with strands of white in her dark hair like a dusting of fallen snow, pulled her gaze away from the glass display case with some struggled to scan his face. Pale blue eyes fixed on the scar on his forehead and Harry gave his most encouraging smile. While he wasn't sure what she (or any of the patients that he treated) looked for when they studied his scar they always seemed to find it on the dark, jagged skin. This time was no different; as he watched she squared her shoulders, standing to her full height (though the top of her head barely reached his shoulders) and turned back to the open case. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'll do it."

She reached forward then and with hands that only slightly trembled and scooped up one of the furry black mice inside.

"Fantastic!" Harry was beaming as she held the mouse curiously nosing her cupped fingers, the older witch seemingly frozen in shock rather than terror. "You're holding a mouse! how does it feel?"

A bit of the daze wore off and her gaze darted from the rodent to Harry then back. "I - I don't know. All of these years I thought that they would feel slimy, dirty, oily..." With the slowness of a deer approaching a lion's den she raised her other hand to brush barely over the mouse's furry head. "But it's- soft. Warm. Delicate."

Raising a calloused hand to her shoulder Harry squeezed. "I'm proud of you. It took no time at all for you to face and conquer your fear."

There was hardly a shake in her hand as she set the mouse back with its kin, shaking her head. "Oh, I couldn't have done it without you, Mr.- Mind Healer Potter," she corrected, cheeks flushed with what Harry was going to say was pride in herself. The other thought was too unsettling for a woman nearly three times his age.

"You found the strength within yourself," Harry replied. "And really, just Harry is fine."

Harry was glad to see Mrs. Humperdinkle recover from her near life long fear. A month ago when they had started on the extensive treatment she would begin to sweat when just talking about mice and she came near to fainting when he had shown her some wizarding photos. It paid off in the end; even as he chatted over some continuous treatment for her to keep up with she reached out and placed a few steady fingers against the glass, watching the mice inside in fascination rather than horror. "Perhaps I'll be able to stay with my daughter for a visit," she said, looking pleased. "My grandson has a pet mouse that that he's been wanting to show me for some time. I thank you again, Mr.- Harry. Your payment should be deposited into your Gringotts vault within an hour."

"It was my pleasure, Mrs. Humperdinkle. Hopefully you won't be needing me again."

"Ah, a pity that." she sighed and Harry watched as she left the pet shop, letting out a huff of breath after the door had closed behind her.

"Tough case?"

Turning towards the familiar voice Harry grinned. "Not as bad as some. Thanks for letting me use your shop again, Dean."

The former Gryffindor waved a casual hand. "Anytime. It's great for business. Besides, it's the only time I get to see you," he added with a grin. "Speaking of you being a terrible friend who only comes around to mooch, I have a Tri-Colored Spitter who won't eat. Work your magic, yeah?"

"You can't call it mooching if I'm working in payment!" Harry knew it wasn't a serious jibe but he did feel bad that he only came around during times of need. He was just so busy. Harry didn't like taking any intentional time off and after passing his exams in Mind Healing there had rarely been even a weekend spent just doing nothing. Making his way to the back of the store Harry considered the last year and a half. /Has it been that long since I graduated? It doesn't feel like it./

There were only a few familiar figures in the glass display cases but word traveled fast. More than a few hissed greetings and a demand for attention met Harry as he stepped into the temperature controlled room and he smiled, feeling at home. "Hello, my brothers and sisters. I see that you are well." It wasn't often that Harry got to use his skills as a parselmouth (just two of his prior patients had a fear of snakes) and again he told himself that he would come and visit Dean and his 'kin' during a time when he wasn't in need of one of his friend's creatures.

It didn't take long to find the snake that Dean had mentioned. It was one of the few who did not call out to him and wasn't sleeping, curled in on itself in a ripple of soft blue, grey and black. There was a pool and layers of gray pebbles meant to mimic its habitat and dull grey eyes tracked Harry's progress towards the glass display case, Harry himself crouching to come eye level with the snake.

"Good afternoon, friend," he greeted, watching as the snake's head twitched slightly. Many were surprised at his ability when first meeting him and while it usually made them regard him in higher standing than others, that didn't always mean that they would be friendly or open to him instantly. "I am told that you have not eaten since your arrival here. Would you tell me why that is?"

The snake sat so still and quiet for so long that Harry thought that he was being ignored. After a few stretched moments the creature seemed to sigh- or hiss, to the untrained ear- coils relaxing minutely. "I have not been given food," it replied, tongue flicking in Harry's direction. "Only pink, scaleless creatures twice my width. They are not my prey."

Harry nodded, catching on to the problem. "I understand. It will be fixed, I promise you."

With that Harry headed out of the room, promising that he would be back in a moment to those who called out after him and went to the front where Dean was holding down the fort. The other hadn't been lying when he said Harry brought in business; before he had come in with Mrs. Humperdinkle there had been two other customers in the shop. At the moment there had to be closer to twenty roaming about, trying to look nonchalant as they peered into displays with birds and pygmy puffs and a Blast-Ended Skrewt though the 'casual' glances over to him as he appeared was ruined by the slack-jawed awe. Ignoring the stares from years of practice Harry waited until Dean finished ringing through a tall brunet witch before speaking up. "So, the Spitter. What sort of snake is it?"

Dean turned to frown at him, taking up the Kneazle snacks he had been setting on display. "A water snake. Isn't that obvious?"

"And what have you been trying to feed it?"

The other man cocked his head, expression saying that he thought Harry was mad but going along with it anyway. "Pinkies. Why all the- ohhh that was stupid, wasn't it?"

"Yup, very much so," Harry chirped as Dean banged his forehead against the counter. "Where are the feeder fish?"

Not lifting his head the other waved in the general direction of the far aisle. "The very back wall. Do tell him I'm sorry for being such an idiot, yeah?"

Reaching out to pat the other on the back Harry turned. "I'll consider it. Though she might not be so inclined to forgive you."

"Ah, sod off already."

Chuckling to himself Harry went to where the small fish were kept, glancing back to see Dean already recovered and ringing though a small lineup of customers. He'd stick around for a bit and take in any complaints from the serpents as well as tending to those who needed- or demanded- it. It was the least he could do.

~.~.~.~.~

Draco was running as fast as he possibly could. Hair bounced into his eyes, sweat prickled his skin and slid down his face and his heart slammed against his ribs with force enough that felt fit to burst. Even so it was growing closer, the soft sound of parchment over wood creeping up behind him. Panic was his world, hot-white and all consuming and he couldn't tell up from down, left from right.

It caught him.

A scream rose in Draco's throat as the first coils caught his ankles but was quickly choked off by a rope of thick muscle. He tried to breathe but couldn't; every breath he had taken was being squeezed out of him, puff by puff, inch by precious inch. Even though he wanted so much to close his eyes they stayed open and fixed as bright golden ones became visible, a narrow tongue flicking out towards him as if to taste the fear in his sweat.

/Oh Merlin, oh no, no, nononono.../

The huge mouth parted, hollow fangs folding down. Draco saw the tips dripping with venom and the endless black pit of Nagini's throat before she struck, one fang sinking into his right eye as the other dug into his cheek.

"Draco!"

Grey eyes snapped open and Draco laid in sweat-stained sheets, frozen. The dream had been one of his more vivid ones and his body was shaking from the after effects, limbs trembling from where they'd wound up twisted in his blanket. He couldn't close his eyes. He couldn't blink. Draco knew that if he did too soon all he would see was Nagini, poised to strike, fangs hollow and aching to tear into his flesh-

"Draco."

Starting at the sound of his voice Draco turned his head towards the doorway to his bedroom. He was bolt-upright a second after that, only the tangle of sheets keeping him in bed.

His mother stood there, the last of her shield charm fading as he watched. The door frame, along with the doors and part of the wall, was scorched black from what looked to have been an inferno. As he watched curls of paint chipped away and fell to the ground, turning to ash almost before it struck. His mother stood in the midst of the disaster and nausea twisted in his stomach at what he had almost done.

"I think," she said quietly, hands folded in front of the white night robes she wore. "That it is past due for you to seek help."

Draco could only swallow, bowing his head. He knew that the war had scarred him. The Dark Lord had left his mark on everyone in wizarding Britain, be it directly or indirectly. The fact that he could lash out as his mother in his sleep with such destructive force..

"I agree." His voice was horse and dry. It was likely his screaming that had brought her to his room in the first place. "I will seek a Mind Healer immediately."

Though Draco was not watching her he knew that she would have nodded at his words. "Very good. I'll have Piffy tend to this." She didn't need to say what 'this' meant. "Goodnight, Draco."

/I doubt I'll ever have one of those again./ Aloud Draco replied, "Goodnight, Mother."

After his mother had gone and the house-elf tended to the smoldering fixtures as well as banishing the smoke and smell Draco untangled himself from his sheets and took up his wand, casting a Tempus to check the time. It would be another couple of hours before any businesses were up but St. Mungos was always open. He would owl there to ask for a list of the best Mind Healers there were.

Perhaps there would be someone willing to take him who wouldn't go running to the papers about his problem before he was healed. Somehow Draco doubted it.

~.~.~.~.~

The following day, Harry was sitting at breakfast and looking over requests for his help when a Barn owl swooped in and towards him.

Harry knew that his home was warded against packages from strangers and hexed letters but he was quick to take up his wand and cast a charm to check just in case, holding his arm up when there was no tell-tale glow from the bird. It slowed from it's swoop to settle on his forearm and fixed dark eyes on him, thrusting its leg at him in silence.

"Well, hello to you, too," Harry murmured as he used his free hand to undo the tie holding the letter in place. Once freed the bird of prey sent a pointed look to his dish and Harry chuckled, setting the rolled letter down to offer up a piece of toast. The heart-shaped head cocked at him in what could only been taken as an 'are you serious?' expression and Harry switched the toast for some crisp bacon. That seemed to do the trick as the piece was snatched up, owl hopping up his arm and onto his shoulder to eat. "Whoever owns you has spoiled you rotten," he commented and was thoroughly ignored, turning back to the letter with both hands to unroll it.

To Potter,

That opening had him glancing down to see the signature at the bottom and he nearly jolted in shock. /Malfoy?/ Quickly, he went up to continue reading.

Know that I am only writing you out of dire need. I have been told that you are the best Mind Healer of the last decade and to be honest I trust you more with this than I would anyone else.

"Miracles do happen," he muttered, unaware of the bits of bacon dropping onto his shoulder as he continued.

I have been plagued with nightmares and struggling with an irrational fear of a long-dead snake for years. I know that it is impossible for Nagini to hunt me when I am awake and aware but it is impossible to keep such facts about when struggling with such vivid dreams. If talking with you is what it will take the fix this problem then I am more than willing to do so.

It is something that I had been willing to suffer in silence for for some time. Until last night. In the fit of my dreams there was an incident with some accidental magic that nearly cost me Mother.

Harry whistled, brows high. He had been considering tossing the letter aside to go for a patient who actually needed help and wasn't over exaggerating but if what Malfoy said was true, he was long overdue for treatment. Claws pinched briefly at his shoulder and Harry reached out blindly for another piece of bacon, handing it off to the owl while his eyes ran over the page.

Adelais will carry back your response. The sooner you can reply, the better; I wish to have a Mind Healer arranged before the end of the day.

Draco Malfoy

Harry chewed absently at his lower lip as he considered the letter before him. He hadn't had contact with the Malfoys since the Death Eater trials and even then, that was more than five years ago. Their contact before that had always been volatile. Would they even be able to sit in a room together without exploding?

/We're both grown men./ Shaking himself and earning a dig in his shoulder for upsetting Adelais Harry gave the owl's chest a light stroke in apology. /And I'm a professional, even if he wants to be a prat. It's something to consider./ Setting the letter aside Harry went back to looking over the others even though his mind had already made itself up. After twenty minutes and relinquishing the last two pieces of bacon Harry summoned a quill, writing under the ornate signature.

To Mr. Malfoy,

I've recently become available and am willing to start treatment as soon as you are able. Meet me at noon at my office on Linton and Bran.

Harry Potter.

~.~.~.~.~

Draco arrived ten minutes early, smoothing his palms down his rich cream-colored robes after coming out of Apperation. It wasn't that they had gotten wrinkled or dusty. The motion was more to cover his own nervousness, which he did not allow to show on his face. Looking around Draco took note of the buildings that lined the street, a coffee shop and two restaurants scattered among others before a crack behind him alerted him to another arrival, turning towards the sound. "Potter," he greeted in a neutral tone though his mind reeled with shock.

Potter had- grown. Not so much in height that he was a giant of a man but he had filled out a bit, less scrawny and scrappy like a alley pup and more like man. He would never be large by any means but his presence seemed to reach out like the black smoke of a volcano, touching all within reach.

/Or grasping them like the coils of a giant snake./

"Mr. Malfoy," Potter greeted him, which sent a different sort of shock through Draco. He hadn't heard the voice in years but the tone directed to him was so- mild. Almost pleasant. "My office is just this way. If you would." The dark-haired male swept by Draco then, leaving the former Slytherin little choice but to follow.

The office, it turned out, was above the little coffee shop that Draco had noticed upon arriving. Going through a doorway and up a set of stairs Draco found the way opening up to what looked like a sitting room converted into an office with the addition of a desk, a set of large chairs stationed on either side of it and some cabinets for files. There was a decent fireplace and a comfortable-looking brown and tan couch as well as a coffee table and a set of smaller, though also plush, overstuffed chairs.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." Potter was moving to the desk, pulling out a drawer on the side to pull out a folder before fixing calm green eyes on Draco. The blond paused, considering the options before taking up residence in one of the overstuffed chairs. It was his proper training that kept Draco from moaning and sinking deeper into the cushions. Undetected until he sat down were charms woven into the furnishing that made the back and seat of the chair mold perfectly to his form. With a nod Potter moved to settled in the other seat, giving a quiet sigh himself before setting the file on the table between them.

"From what I understand your nightmares come from a fear of Vold- the Dark Lord's snake," he said, sending a quiet smile Draco's way. /What's Potter's game? Why did he-/ It was then Draco realized that the other had avoided saying his name as it still made witches and wizards alike cringe with fear. Draco himself had begun to tense without realizing it. "But I need to know how deep it goes. Is it just Nagini that draws such reactions to you or is it a fear of snakes in general?"

"I'm not afraid of snakes," Draco snapped even as doubt twinged in the back of his mind. To be honest he had never been fond of the creatures - to him Slytherin was more of a concept, not something to be taken literally - but he wouldn't have called it a fear. They were just some unpleasant thing that was out there, somewhere in the world that he would never have to deal with short of a trek through a forest.

The folder was pushed towards him and Potter motioned. "Even so, this is something that helps me asses the depth of the case and will let me know how to begin. I'd like you to look through those photographs and tell me how you feel."

/Alright, so they're pictures of snakes,/ Draco thought, pulling the folder towards him. /No big deal. I had an animal photo book when I was a child that had a snake in it./ With that in mind he flipped the top open with a casual flick of his wrist.

It didn't look to be a very large snake. It was a vivid shades of bright green, curled up near the trunk of a tree on a branch and apparently asleep. Even so Draco felt his breath hitch, heart stuttering in his chest and nearly snatched his hand away. /Don't be an idiot! It's just a picture. It's not even doing anything!/

"How do you feel?"

Licking his lips Draco considered his reactions. Then he considered lying. But Potter had actually been fairly decent to him and entirely professional and Draco knew that the other man couldn't help him if he hid the truth. "Uncomfortable," he admitted, licking his lips. "More so than I should be."

Potter was quiet for a moment and Draco didn't look up, gaze fixed on the photograph. "Turn to the next one, please."

Reaching out to grasp the very edge of the picture Draco flipped it face-down on the other side of the file to expose the second. He did jerk his hand back before he could stop himself, lip curling in disgust.

It was a different snake, this one almost exactly the color of the sand it was slithering across. It was just moving, the long body twisting in a constant S to slide sideways- "Sideways? How can it even- ugh!" The muscled body curled and slid and Draco could imagine how it would look to its prey, impossibly long and too fast to get away from and-

"The next one, please."

Potter's voice was a quiet command and Draco clenched his jaw together as he reached for the corner of the second photo, hands trembling slightly as he did so. Alright, so maybe he was a bit wary of snakes. It wasn't as if going through this would help with his nightmares. It'd likely just give Nagini friends to fuck with his mind with.

Grasping the corner Draco flicked the second photo quickly over, nearly breathing in relief as he did the motion. Then he was halfway across the room, doubled over as he gagged.

The third photo was with a snake he actually did recognize from the extended hood around its head, lunging with its fangs extended and sinking them into a rat. The picture had no sound and Draco had moved as the cobra struck, so he didn't see what happened next but he didn't need to. He could hear the rat's shrieks of pain in his mind, it struggling and thrashing while venom was pumped into its body, its screams getting weaker and weaker as Nagini reared up and begun to swallow him whole and he was still alive-

"Draco, I need you to take a deep breath." The voice- was there someone in there with him? "Come on, breathe for me. That's right, in, hold it, then out. In, hold it, then out. In..."

Following the instructions as best as he could Draco slowly came back to himself, noticing the trembling of his limbs and churning of his stomach as he did so. He was on his knees, crouched in the corner of Potter's office with his hands on his head as if to protect him from a blow and a taste like the dead in his mouth. When he opened his eyes all he could see for a moment was a damp spot in the carpeting where the contents of his stomach fell before Potter vanished it away and then a glass swam into view, half-filled with water. "Sip this, slowly."

Draco didn't hesitate, a trembling hand reaching for the glass to bring to his lips. He knew that Potter was pants at potions anyway and the other had no reason to try to poison him. Yet. Unless soiling the carpet was some abdominal offence.

As the trembling begun to fade and the glass was slowly drained Potter sat back on his heels. "From what I've observed," he said quietly. "I would say that either your nightmares from Nagini have stemmed into a fear of all snakes or you had a discomfort of them that was amplified after your encounter. I see two ways of you getting past this and on with your life." Looking up Draco met the calm gaze, Potter holding up a hand with a finger ticking off his reasoning. "For one, you could get a skilled Legilimens to suppress the memories for you. It wouldn't help with any fear of snakes before the trauma, if you had any, but I take it that you aren't regularly in contact with them?" At Draco's head shake the dark haired male continued. "Second, you can allow me to work with you to get over the fear. I have to warn you, I won't allow you to back away or hide from this," Potter said softly but firmly, expression solemn. "You'll be forced to confront this head-on. For a case such as yours I would recommend a total immersion and have you stay at a center- one of my homes in this case," Potter said at the sharp look Draco sent his way. "If you're not comfortable with that idea I can make a list of Legilimens for you to go see."

Setting the empty glass on the dark carpet Draco spoke, voice a bit horse. "Trying to scare me away, Potter?" The blond shook his head. "No, I will not have someone tromping around in my mind." The one person he would have trusted to do such a thing was years dead and Draco had no intention of letting himself be in such a vulnerable state before a possible enemy.

/So what is Potter to me?/ Studying the other male from under pale lashes Draco couldn't quite bring himself to calling him an enemy, even if he didn't consider Potter to be an ally as of yet. It was beyond him to consider the other as his Healer as well. They were more than acquainted but other than what he'd heard from the papers and gossip what did Draco really know about the Boy Who Lived?

Draco licked his lips, body and breathing under control once again and his own grey eyes narrowed on the other. "I'll accept your treatment under one condition."

There was a flicker of something in Potter's gaze before it cleared away, his head dipping in acknowledgement.

"Never expect any tittles from me, Potter."

The reaction wasn't what Draco expected at all. Potter laughed, a surprised hitch to it, his lips spreading in a smile and eyes squinting so that there was just a sparkle of green seen behind a layer of glass. "Somehow I couldn't see you calling me anything other than Potter even if I became Minister," he said with a bit of a grin. "I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Malfoy."

"Stop that as well," Draco snapped, rising to his feet with a billow of robes. The blond brushed absently at the material, flicking away any stray dust that might have gathered. "If you're going to call me anything leave it at Malfoy."

He couldn't say why it disturbed him to have Potter call him by his title. Part of it had to do with reminding him of his father but it was more than that. Coming from Potter it didn't make him feel anything but unnerved. "When do want me to go with you?"

"As soon as possible," came the immediate answer. "I'd like to have you settled in today, if possible. If not the next few days will work. I won't take you away from your work or any prior arrangements you've made but I will demand any free time that you have from here on out."

Draco nodded. "Alright. Give me the coordinates and I'll be by later this evening."

Potter prattled off the Apparation coordinates and Draco took note of it, nodding. "That will get you inside the wards," he was saying. "I'll attune them to you and be there to show you to your rooms. It isn't as luxurious as the Manor so you'll have to put up with tending to your own needs and eating my cooking, or making do on your own."

"Wait, you live here?"

"I will be staying for the duration of your stay," Potter replied, glancing sideways at Draco. "To be there for when you need me as well as to be able to better tend to and observe you. And it is my house," he added in a tone that could have almost passed for dry. "Any questions?" After a moment's consideration Draco shook his head. "Alright.I'll see you tonight, then."

Minutes later Draco was walking away from the office, opting on going the several blocks to Diagon Alley on foot rather than Apparating. He would pick up some shopping that his mother has asked of him when he mentioned going out then return home to tell her of how the first meeting with Potter went. Draco wasn't sure if he should be pleased that things had gone so well or nervous as to what to expect of the house and his future treatments. /Mother won't have to worry about me blowing up half the Manor, at least,/ Draco thought as he rounded a corner. /That's Potter's problem now./

~.~.~.~.~

Popping into the little cottage on the countryside that he'd arranged for their stay Harry took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. The meeting had gone surprisingly well; not so much for Malfoy's mental health but well considering it was he and Malfoy, together in a room and not trying to bludgeon each other senseless. The prat had been tolerable.

/More than tolerable and rather easy on the eyes./ Harry hadn't missed the way the light robes flushed against his figure when Malfoy walked, each sway giving a teaser to the body that lay underneath. It had made Harry feel shabby in his own forest green set but if Draco found them lacking he hadn't commented.

/And cut that train of thought off right now. Just because it's been ages doesn't make it appropriate. Especially not with a patient./

Drawing his wand Harry adjusted to wards to allow Draco to land on the property rather than re-directing him away and set to using Vanishing spells on the dust that had collected, changing sheets and pillowcases and checking the pantry for stock. It had been some months since he'd been there and Harry wanted to make sure that there were few excuses for Malfoy to use to back out of treatment. It wasn't just the memory of the boy who he'd fought that brought the thought to him; Harry had one of his tougher cases claim that they couldn't continue treatment because 'the furniture clashed with the wall coloring and was too distracting for him.

Harry didn't let that stop them, nor would he let a lack of proper bedding and nourishment stop him now. /I don't think you realize what you've signed up for, Malfoy, but there's no backing down now. Like it or not, we're together through hell or high water. You can bet on that./