A/N: Thanks for the reviews!!! Here's the next chappie!

Chapter 3 – Forsaken

"Pssh, Potter. Potter!"

Harry groaned and opened his eyes. And then he blinked.

It was dark, so very dark around him. He tried to move and found that he could not. Struggling against his invisible bonds he felt panic grip at him. He whimpered.

"Calm down Potter," a voice spoke through the dark.

Relief washed through Harry when he heard that someone was there. Too lost in his onslaught of terror he didn't recognize the voice, but answered anyway.

"I can't move," he mumbled. "And I have a bloody pounding headache."

The voice just scoffed.

Harry, gradually becoming more coherent, finally recognized the voice.

"Malfoy?"

"The one and only," the blonde said. Harry could hear the smirk in his voice. For once in his life Harry was glad to have Malfoy there.

"Where am I?" He figured it was a logical question, considering he couldn't look around himself. He was surprised to feel his bed dip slightly under the other's weight.

"You're in St. Mungos."

Harry eyes drifted shut. So his 'friends' had dumped him here to be rid of him. Well that was nice of them. After a lifetime of servitude no one seemed to need him when his work was done.

Malfoy, the ever impatient one, asked that very question. And when Harry answered he couldn't keep the coldness out of his tone. "I've changed. I'm no longer a use to them. No longer their puppet." His words turned bitter.

He couldn't see Malfoy's expression but guessed it would have been surprised.

"And what are you doing here Malfoy? Surely the Slytherin Prince is above a healer's treatment."

"I tried to kill myself," Malfoy answered simply. "Mother and Father thought it was best to leave me here. Get my problems out of their hair."

"Oh." Harry's brain seemed to freeze with that piece of information.

"Yeah, oh."

Deciding to change topics Harry asked why he was bound.

"You see, that was what I thought weird. Weasley's father and older sibling came in carrying you. Luckily they didn't see me. I was pretending to sleep."

Harry smirked at that.

"If you're just going to smirk stupidly at me I won't continue at all!" He sounded annoyed.

"No, please continue," Harry said calmly.

There was a pause before Malfoy began again.

"Anyway, Bill I believe his name is, told the healer to be careful around you. He said you had a temporary moment of insanity and that you were dangerous. That was why they brought you here. Said the pressure had finally gotten to you."

"They want you to talk to a mind healer," Malfoy continued in his superior tone, "so you can heal from the war and get back to the way things were."

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Get back to the way things were. Fat chance at that!" Harry continued to laugh, a slight hysterical tone creeping into his voice.

"So it's true! You are insane. I'm sorry Potter but I find that funny. Finally when there's no Dark Lord chasing you, you go completely bonkers."

"Shut up Malfoy."

"Hey, just stating the obvious."

Harry smiled at him when he realized that didn't feel the least bit of anger at Malfoy's words. In fact, the constant bickering between the two of them felt quite normal. Harry was sure he would have been bored without it.

Silence rang as they covertly enjoyed the other's company. But soon Harry's thoughts turned elsewhere.

"Do you think they'll release me tomorrow? From these bonds?" He was ashamed to hear the uncertainty in his voice, but thankfully Malfoy didn't comment. He just hummed as he thought.

"I believe so. I mean, why would they want to keep you bound? There's really no point to it."

Harry didn't answer but instead wished he had the other man's confidence. After the hell his life had turned into, nothing would surprise him anymore.

"You better get some rest, Potter. You're going to need it tomorrow."

Harry found himself readily agreeing. After all, he was exhausted although he had no clue as to why. Probably because he was recently attacked by at least six different spells at once, by those he had once considered family nonetheless.

He felt the bed shift as Malfoy got off and was surprised to feel a hint of loneliness settle in his chest. He was alone and trapped in the dark. He tried to tell himself that he was being stupid and needed to get a grip, but he couldn't convince himself no matter how hard he tried.

Claustrophobia was setting in, hard. His breath began to come in quick bursts. He lost himself to the visions of his mind.

But something was anchoring him to reality. Harry realized that someone was holding his hand.

That same voice spoke from the dark, awakening him to the present once more.

"Good night, Harry," the voice whispered into the night air. A moment later quiet footsteps were heard, then the squeaks of a mattress from not so far away.

Harry felt a smile blossom on his lips. It felt foreign to him, as if he were unused to using such muscles. But he responded likewise with a barely existent, "Good night Draco," before falling instantly asleep.

***

Harry awoke to voices. They were arguing about something and Harry wished they would stop.

Squinting through the sun's rays, he saw several blurry shapes by his bedside. Unfortunately he was still bound so had no choice but to make himself heard.

"Er, excuse me?"

Surprised silence greeted his words before one of the figures approached.

"How do you feel, Harry?"

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked in surprise. He would recognize that gentle voice anywhere.

"Do you think I could have my glasses?" Harry continued hopefully. "And it would be nice if you took these bonds off. I don't like being bound very much."

A moment later Harry felt his glasses being adjusted over his face. He could finally gaze clearly upon Mr. Weasley's concerned face.

"Harry, you gave us quite a fright yesterday."

Harry looked rightfully ashamed. "I know Mr. Weasley," he said softly, "and I'm sorry. Really I am. It's true, I let the pressure get to me. I'm fine now though and I'm ready to go home."

He watched Mr. Weasley glance nervously over his shoulder at a stern-looking witch. She was eyeing him with mistrust and a deeply hidden loathing. Harry wondered why.

"What's wrong, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked when the adult didn't respond.

"Well you see Harry, that's what we were just discussing before you woke. This is Healer Carmena Mulberry. She's a mind healer and thinks it best if you stay here for a few weeks –"

Harry interrupted forcefully. "Mr. Weasley, I'm fine. I promise it won't happen again."

Mr. Weasley turned to the witch. "Can we at least get those bonds off him?"

When the healer spoke Harry had to keep himself from gagging. Her voice was too high and far too sweet for comfort and she spoke as if he were a dangerous animal. It was simply nauseating! Harry did not like being treated like this.

"I need to ask him a few questions before he's released," the healer said. "I've seen cases like his before, where the patient's mind simply snaps. Once we lift the bonds we need to make sure he won't attack us. Better to be cautious than dead."

She smiled at Mr. Weasley, a toothy smile that twisted her face into something unrecognizable. Harry felt a chill shoot up his spine.

And then she shot off questions at him. They were constant and grating on his nerves. But he answered appropriately, albeit void of emotion, and soon he was free of his bonds.

He sat up testing his muscles and stretching his neck. He saw Draco watching from where he sat on his bed. The blonde was studying Harry as if he had never seen anything quite like him before. Harry ignored him.

Turning back to his captors, Harry asked the only thing he could. He knew he would have to stay there in that disgusting infirmary, but that was fine with him. He would play his little game and act like the sweet little boy he once was. And once they released him he would be gone for good.

"Mr. Weasley," he said as soon as he found his voice. "What exactly do mind healers do?"

He was nervous about that part. Harry realized with a sinking feeling that he would rather die than be forced to relive his past. His Occlumency lessons with Snape had only enforced that fact, and even then Harry had merely experiences flashes of his younger years.

He sat in silence, awaiting the answer that would determine his fate. But Mr. Weasley, it seemed, didn't have the answer for him. Instead the healer made herself heard. Her explanation was swift and clear, yet Harry could detect an underlying malice behind her words.

"When we conduct these one-on-one sessions Mr. Potter I will, shall we say, delve into your mind. I'll look for any memory that seems inflamed. The deeper pockets are usually the ones that never heal.

But with my knowledge I'll be able to bring forth those memories. Together we'll be able to watch them and analyze them. You must be able to express your thoughts in words and be able to describe in detail the reasons behind your actions.

That is the healing part Mr. Potter. Only once you understand everything you need to know about that particular moment in your life will you be able to heal." She ended her speech with a smirk and a cold gleam.

Harry shuddered and felt himself break out into a cold sweat. Merlin, that was not healing, it was the lowest form of torture imaginable! Far worse than a mere Crucio. Harry would take the physical pain any day if it meant keeping his mind in tact and free from invasion.

"Mr. Weasley, please!" Harry was well aware of the near panic in his voice, but simply could not control it. "Please don't make me stay. I swear I'll keep quiet the rest of the summer. I'll move out, anything, just don't make me relive my mistakes." He finished in a near whisper.

Once more the irritating healer answered for him. "Realizing your mistakes Mr. Potter is the first step to healing."

"Then I don't want to heal! Ever. I'll carry my scars. I'll die if I'm forced to do this."

"I've heard about your melodramatics for some time now Mr. Potter and I can assure you–"

"I think that is quite enough." Mr. Weasley interrupted the angry healer. He gazed down at Harry, his face a mirror of misery.

"Harry, I'm sorry but I simply cannot allow you to leave when you're like this. I know you can't see it for yourself Harry, but I want what's best for you. You need to stay. You are not as fine as you say, but hopefully within a few weeks you'll be able to see the good in this and forgive me."

Harry felt his world falling apart. It seemed that everyone was against him. He no longer had enemies. Now it was simply him against the world.

"Mr. Weasley –" he tried one last time, but his voice spoke defeat.

"I'm sorry Harry. I'll check on you at a later date. But for now try to relax." His face softened. "Remember, you are like a son to me. I want you to heal from your wounds."

Harry could do nothing but nod as he watched Mr. Weasley and the healer leave the room. The latter turned back to look at him with a spiteful grin before closing the door with a slam.

Isolation grew inside of him. The wizarding world suddenly seemed like a far off, unreachable place. It constantly escaped his grasp. How could he have ever been a part of something that seemed so corrupted, so wrong? Was this the world he fought so hard for? He had thought he fought for freedom, but instead they gave him chains.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he mumbled, "Idiots," to himself. They really were, the lot of them. But soon he would be free enough. Soon this world would be a thing of the past.

A throat cleared behind him and he turned in surprise. He had completely forgotten about the blonde. Malfoy was watching him, his eyebrows raised.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry's words held no malice.

"Nothing Potter," he said casually. "You surprise me, is all. But I must say that was brilliant acting on your part."

Harry stared at him. "I don't know what you're on about."

He watched as the other boy smirked. "Oh come on Potter! I'm a Slytherin, I know how the mind works. I can see the scheming behind your eyes. Of course, I would have never expected it from the Gryffindor Golden Boy."

Harry looked away. "I told you, I've changed."

"And so you have," Malfoy replied, smiling at him. It was an honest smile for once. "And if I had just met you, I would probably say you were a Slytherin at heart. A rather good one at that."

Harry gave him a knowing smile. "So it would seem."

Harry stared at the blonde for a while longer while he pondered the situation. He as sure as hell didn't want anyone inside his mind, ever. Not only was his mind a private place, but he hadn't survived the war once only to fall from it the second time around. He had to do something!

And then it clicked. Mind healers search for memories by probing the mind. But if they couldn't get into the mind in the first place, then there would be no way to treat. They would have to find a different kind of therapy, one that was less personal and far less painful.

But that would mean…and Harry wasn't sure-

No, it had to be done. He knew there would be no turning back now. With silent resolve, Harry looked into Malfoy's silver eyes, a devious smile playing on his lips, and asked one simple question.

"How well do you know Occlumency?"


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Next chapter: Harry and Draco get, ahem, closer... ;)