A/N: And we're switching back to Albus' point of view. At least for this chapter. It's a bit touch-and-go from here. I have a vague idea of the direction, but the muse for point of view comes at random. Please enjoy and keep reviewing! The ones I've been getting steadily are amazing! They make me feel so good and make me want to write more! I love you guys!

Everything was cold. That's all Albus had allowed himself to realize thus far. The floor chilled his bare feet, which seeped up into his bones. The air had to have been chilled with fans in the ceiling tiles or something. Food was never hotter than room temperature. And nearly everything was made of metal – the beds, chairs, tables, the one cabinet he had in his room that had to hold everything of his.

Not that he had brought all that much with him. In his daze at Christmas, he hadn't packed much. He hadn't known how long he would be gone. So how was he supposed to know how much he needed to bring with? All he had brought was a small backpack filled with mostly underwear, socks, and lazy clothing. There was only one pair of blue jeans and one button-down shirt, but he hadn't really felt like wearing them, anyway.

Albus hadn't felt like doing anything that wasn't comfortable. That included hardly leaving the room he had been assigned at St. Mungo's, eating only enough to keep his stomach from eating away at itself, and only wearing clothing made from soft, stretchable material. It was like carrying a bed with him everywhere he went. Not that he went anywhere….

Albus had been here for two weeks and nothing had changed. He hadn't changed. The Counseling Healers had been great – they tried to get him multiple times a day to leave his room. But after he had checked himself in to this place, he had been told that no one would force him to do anything. That being here of his own free will meant that he was ultimately in charge of his own recovery. If all he wanted to do was sleep in his cold room in his cold bed with his cold sheets and eat barely any cold food, he was free to waste his time and his parents' money as he wished.

The only blessing about this situation was the fact that Albus was alone. He'd had time to lie down and comprehend his situation. To understand why he had gone off at Christmas and what his feelings were. To sort through his problems in the silence of his own head. There was definitely no absence of silence…. Every patient had their own room with soundproof charms on the walls. Inside of his room, he had only his thoughts.

And his loneliness….

Having someone by Albus' side was his coping mechanism. Having someone there to distract him from his own mind was what he needed. So lying in a room with only his thoughts…. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

"Hello, Albus."

Sighing, Al turned towards the door and stared at the woman waiting there. She had a kind face and a voice that sound like warm honey. Every day, the same Healer came in to check on him, and she always looked hopeful. Today that hopefulness might actually pay off.

"Do you feel like coming to group after breakfast this morning?" she asked, tapping her fingernails on the hollow metal door. "You received a letter, but…you can only read it at the session."

Another one of St. Mungo Psychiatrics' rules to better their patients. All correspondences to patients must be read in group therapy. Apparently reading them aloud with an audience helps to work through complicated emotions. And patients are able to receive feedback to help them deal with how to respond.

Slowly, Albus pulled himself up out of his bed. A shiver ran down his spine as his bare feet connected with the floor. The thought sunk in very cautiously that someone had written to him. Someone…wanted to contact him. And he honestly had no idea who it could have been. The obvious answer was his parents. Then again…they had said they wanted him to make the first move. They wanted him to work through getting better and speak to them on his own time.

When he was ready.

It could have very well been another family member, though. No one knew what he was going through. No one really knew all the details of what happened. He hadn't told a single person why he had flipped. There hadn't been the chance, really. But…he still wasn't sure if that was information he wanted to share, either.

Thinking about it now, just the thought of one day telling someone, caused Albus' heart rate to climb.

"I... I think I will…." Albus tried for a smile, but failed miserably. He wasn't used to using emotions as of late. And this one was a bit strenuous. He didn't feel happy and it was getting difficult to fake it.

"Wonderful!" The Healer smiled back, a genuine one, and nodded. She seemed excited by the prospect. "Just stay in the dining hall after you're finished eating. And try to interact! It'll make your entire recovery process that much easier. Okay?"

Not wanting to be lonely and actually desiring to communicate to strangers were two completely separate ideas. And the latter seemed like an overwhelming prospect. He didn't want to be in this room all by himself for another day. But…he certainly didn't want to talk and share his situation with others who might not be as fucked up as he was.

Albus watched the Healer leave with a hesitant desire to follow. And very slowly, he made steps to leave the room. His feet made soft slaps on the floor and he hadn't bothered to change into something more presentable than the pair of sweats and the oversized shirt he'd slept in. After he'd left his room, he took the mechanical path to the dining hall. He had to go through the corridor with the rest of the patients' rooms, pass through the lift that led down to this basement floor, then take a right at the Healer station/check-in desk, then continue down to the door at the end.

The dining hall was nothing like the Great Hall at Hogwarts. There was no sign of magically appearing food and the room only contained one table. It wasn't even close to being as long as one back at school, and there were chairs around it instead of two benches. The room wasn't all that big. It seemed like it could fit perfectly into a rather large house. Like Scorpius' house….

With a wince, Albus took a seat at the furthest corner of the room. He was the first one to arrive, seated just before the staff brought in the food. He used the excuse of piling food onto his plate as a distraction from having to look at anyone. Other people were starting to trickle in, as well, but they all remained quite silent. Thankfully.

In his entire time here, not a single patient had tried to speak to Albus. He was absolutely grateful for this, but he was sure the reason for this fell on himself. He didn't exactly put off friendly vibes. And…he wasn't exactly attractive, as of late. His hair was even messier than usual (which was really saying something) and he probably smelt a little bit. When was the last time he had even bathed…?

As the room filled, idle chatter started to burble around Al. He kept his head down, eyes firmly on the scrambled eggs taking up a good half of his plate. All he wanted was to keep to himself. To get through this meal and then…get through group therapy.

To start his path to treatment. He was fairly sure that was what he wanted.

"You must like eggs…."

Albus jumped at the voice and the proximity of it. He barely looked up to see that someone had taken the chair next to his. And they were currently talking to him, as there was no one else close enough. He sighed softly, running his fingers through his hair in order to try and fix it up even just a little bit.

It was then that he snuck the full peek. The someone next to him was extremely male. The beard was kind of a dead giveaway. Not that it was a giant, scruffy beard or anything…. Just a little bit of unsculpted, time-spent-in-the-hospital blonde scruff. In the back of his mind, Al made note that Scorpius would look gorgeous with facial hair just like that. But he quickly shook off the thought and continued to try and see who was actually in front of him currently.

This man, because he had to be at least twenty-something, had a cute, scruffy beard. His hair was blonde, just like his facial hair. It was wispy and wavy and was kind of styled in a careless yet still stylish way. His eyes were the type of blue that could only be described as akin to the surface of the ocean. Light blue with soft specks of darkness shot throughout. Overall, he could easily be described with his trim and fit body as attractive. And Albus was fairly sure he wasn't ready for that yet….

"I suppose I like them well enough…?" he said, sort of snotty, down towards his plate again. He made certain to end his response with a question. Trying to make it clear that he wasn't interested in speaking to this man. He needed to be left alone. He needed not to look at this man and see that he was gorgeous. Or compare him to Scorpius. The fact that they were both blonde was tipping his world a little bit. Causing his mind to race.

The man laughed and there was no denying that it was kind of an affective sound. Albus held back a small smile by trying to ruffle his hair back into his face. Trying to hide himself away. "Someone's a bit hostile. Is that why you're in here? Because you can't speak to people like a normal person?"

The question made Albus long for his room. He assessed how much he'd eaten and looked towards the door. Planning an escape. Maybe this wouldn't work out today. Maybe he just wasn't ready for human interaction. It was better to play it safe….

He started to stand up, taking on more look at his half-eaten plate. But something held him back. Looking down at his arm, pale from the lack of sunlight, he saw a slightly tanner hand upon him. He sighed heavily and looked at the man holding him there before plopping back down in his chair. "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't touch me…."

Because touching leads to feelings….

Giving quite a perfect and winning smile, the man slowly released his hand and sat back in his chair. "That's it, then, isn't it? Not the…talking to people thing. But issues with touching?"

"I have no idea why you care. And I really don't want to know, either. It's none of your business why I'm in this sorry excuse for a mental hospital. And I don't care why you're here, either!" Albus took his plate and shifted over a seat. He was now away from the other, but still not sitting to anyone else. Building a bubble up around himself.

"I care because you look like you need a friend." Of course the man followed Albus by hopping over a seat, as well. And he kept his bright, happy-go-lucky smile the entire time. "Everyone deserves to have at least one friend to get them through this place. And…I don't have one yet, either." He winked, sealing the whole cute factor he had going on.

And of course Albus was melting for it. He swallowed hard, looking down while biting his lip. Then glanced back over at the man, trying to find a more analytical approach to his situation. Trying to look at the other like a person, not an attractive distraction. He started by looking down at the other's plate. Taking note of what he felt was edible in this place.

Apparently nothing was, however, because his plate was completely empty. Frowning, he looked back up at the man. "You're not eating."

"Not hungry."

The man didn't shut down. He didn't back off. He just…winced a small smile and shrugged. Looked at Al's plate longingly. Then sat back in his chair and stretched his back. Casual. Still friendly. And yet telling in much the same way as a shout. Albus nodded knowingly and poked his fork into his eggs, taking a small bite.

Much to Albus' comfort, the rest of breakfast actually passed in silence. A type of silence that included being close to someone. The type that actually helped to heal his soul. He hated to be alone, which was why he had never liked to go anywhere without someone at his side at school. And now it seemed like the same approach just might work here.

"Time to clear plates, guys!" The same Healer that came around Albus' room every day stood in the doorway of the room. She smiled at the maybe ten people in the room and waved to the bus tray that stood near the door, as well. "And then retake your seats. Looks like we should have one-hundred-percent participation today!"

The buzz in the room took on a slightly dutiful air. Everyone stood in unison and took their plates to the tubs. Quick to fit in, Albus followed suit. And then he settled right back into his chair with the man that hadn't even bothered to move, since he'd had no food to clear, anyway.

Everyone seemed to know the drill by now, which meant he must have been 'the new person'. They all sat in their chairs, watching the Counseling Healer close the door and sit in a middle position at the table. She held a stack of rather thick folders, all labeled with names, it seemed. Albus surveyed this curiously, taking advantage of the fact that he was practically sitting in front of her.

"It's just information on our 'treatments'," the man next to him explained, holding his hand out to the woman. "Plus they contain our daily journals and the correspondences we receive."

Albus' head whipped around to look back at the folders the instant the Healer began to hand them out. He had a letter. That meant that in his folder…there was that letter. And that he could read it if he held it. He bit his lip, watching the man receive his. And then there was a thinner folder between his fingers. And he felt like his world was spinning.

His breath started to come in erratic bursts. All he could think about was the possibility of who could have written to him. His mind raced over all of the people that might want to talk to him. And each one made his panic worse and worse. His heart was going a million miles a minute, making him feel like he was about to explode. And the folder in his hands was shaky before his eyes.

"Albus, you're shaking," the Healer said softly, standing to lean over the table and gently grip his hands. "Take deep breaths, okay? The first session is often the hardest."

Very much wanting to bolt out of the room, Albus tried to do as he was guided. He took in a deep breath through his nose, holding it until his lungs felt they would burst. And then he let it out in a rush, closing his eyes as he did. He couldn't really deny that it felt better, so he did it a few more times. Each time made him feel exposed, but in a good way. Like he was letting it all go. Breaking those barriers down bit by bit.

"There you go!" She smiled brightly, then sat back down. Al opened his eyes to watch her, focusing on anything except for the folder for the moment. Not sure he was ready to face it again. "Okay, everyone, this is Albus. As I'm sure a couple of you have noticed, Albus has been here a couple of weeks already. But he is our newest edition to group! So let's applaud his bravery and will to help himself."

The room erupted into mostly tentative claps, except for the man next to Al. His hands flew wildly and loudly together as he grinned at his neighbor. Albus shifted uncomfortably at the attention and forced a tiny smile.

"Alright, settle down," the Healer laughed and gave the man a slightly chastising look. "Albus, you can call me Miss O. My last name is too complicated to force you to pronounce it." She started to point to people around the room, giving nine names before she reached the last person. "And your enthusiastic clapper," she said, pointing to the man at Al's side, "is Devan."

Albus nodded slowly and tried to fix his wayward clothes in order to be okay with all of the attention currently on him. "Okay," he whispered. "Uh…hi…."

"Here's the basic rundown, okay?" Miss O gestured around the room. "This is your safe place. This is group therapy. It is the most important part to your recovery. There is always the option for you to have one-on-one sessions with a Counseling Healer. But we hope that you will make this your focus.

"During these sessions, we focus on one emotion or question at a time. Everyone goes around the table and shares their feelings. It's still not mandatory, but we do appreciate it when patients participate. It helps everyone, really. After that, we read letters and responses to letters. Then a break for lunch, and afterwards is the time for socializing. Games and such. Lastly, before dinner, we journal. If you don't think you're up for all of that, feel free to leave before we start. How does that sound?"

There was no denying how scary all of that sounded. Albus worried at his lip, scratched at his arm. Irritating the already chapped skin. But the thought of going back to his room and lying there alone for the next two weeks…. He looked to his side at the man, Devan, and thought hard. Did he really want to sit here next to this gorgeous man and sob about his disgusting love life…?

Unfortunately, the desperate part of Albus clung to the part of himself that screamed that Devan was good-looking. He smiled softly at the man and ruffled with his hair again before nodding. "I'll stay…." Maybe all he needed for recovery was to find something else to focus on. Someone else. Scorpius had messed him up. Maybe he just needed…a real and sane and normal relationship. Maybe he should try…for that….

"Excellent!" Miss O shuffled a few things around in front of her before looking up with an encouraging grin. "Then let's get to it! Our topic today is what we're afraid of. I know it's a bit broad, but it gives everyone a chance to open up a bit." She looked around the room, assessing the atmosphere. "So, who would like to start? Any answer will do!"

All that Albus had focused on this entire time was the Healer and Devan. But as the silence stretched a bit, he decided to take stop of his situation. He didn't know how long he would be here, so he might have to get used to the people he would be around.

The room was full of mostly girls. Most of them looked pretty normal. They didn't even look crazy. Then again…did he look crazy? There was on girl right by Miss O's side who had frizzy hair that stuck up in all directions. Her eyes didn't stay on one spot in the room for more than a few seconds and she kept muttering things to herself. Other than that, the only other male in the room besides him and Devan, was curled up in a chair with bandages all up his arms. And that was the extent of the wild and craziness he had been expecting. The mental ward was actually quite barren and tame in comparison to Albus' nightmares.

"I'll speak first!" Devan piped up at Al's side after a few minutes of everyone staring at the table. Miss O smiled and motioned for him to begin while pulling a paper close like she was going to take notes. "My fears…." He settled back in his chair, crossing his arms and defining his lean body even further. Making certain that Albus was just going to keep staring at him. "Well…I'm first of all afraid that I will be here forever. I know, I know – I'm allowed to leave whenever I want to. Which is why I've checked in three separate times." He grinned, throwing Al off completely. Like he wasn't even ashamed of his backstory.

"Anyway, I just mean…I'm afraid I'll never be completely good enough to stop having to be here. To stop…having to come back. And I'm afraid I'll never be able to find someone who can help me cope with my issues enough to where I feel secure." He shrugged and started to bounce his leg, like he was slightly nervous. Though his happy composure was quite contrasting. "But, most of all, I'm afraid that eventually this stupid disease of mine will completely take over my life and kill me. Isn't that everyone's fear, though?"

Albus swallowed hard, suddenly able to only look at his hands. That did sound quite familiar. Thinking that being ill was going to kill him. At Christmas he vaguely remembered telling his father over and over again that he wanted to die. Was that a common emotion amongst crazy people?

The bandaged boy in the corner nodded along, as did a few of the girls. It was a bit calming to hear that said and agreed upon. So he found himself opening his mouth and sharing a bit blindly. "I'm afraid that…dying would feel better than I feel now."

All of the other patients definitely agreed with Albus on this point. He blushed upon realizing what he'd said and curled sort of into himself. Why had he said that aloud? Sure, he kind of meant it. He felt pretty fucking low right now, but that didn't mean he really wanted to die, did it? Did Scorpius' blatant rejection and mixed signals really harm him that badly? Was that normal?

If he had been normal, he wouldn't really be here, would he?

"Those are both very valid, very progressive fears," Miss O reassured and smiled around the room. "I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in this room – myself included – felt like this at some point in their life. It's perfectly natural to feel so low that you don't think you have any options. The important thing is, however, to find a way to pick yourself back up. To take your lowest point and make it the turning point."

This sounded like a very valid solution. A solution that, in theory, should work out wonderfully. But theory wasn't real life and it certainly wasn't that easy. Albus wasn't even sure where he would be able to start with something as monumental as that. He was already sweating just thinking about it.

A few others around the room shared other fears. Things that Albus wasn't really able to relate to. Being a Squib, parents that don't care, feeling too fat. The only thing that stuck with him was what Devan had said. It was kind of making it hard to pay attention.

Most of all, past the part about relating to being low, his mind was sort of racing. He was trying to figure out what could have been wrong with Devan. Earlier he had thought that maybe the man had an eating disorder. The in-shape (if a bit thin) figure would explain that. And so would the empty plate. But would late make someone wish they could die? He wasn't all that familiar with such things, but he supposed it was a possibility.

But he just looked so normal.

"Has everyone finished sharing, then?" Miss O looked around as everyone went silent again. She looked pleased with what was being said. It could have been misconstrued as a bit creepy or weird, but she seemed to actually have genuine emotions for them. Like she really cared that they were getting better or whatever. "Wonderful! That was brilliant progress for many of you. I'm proud of all of you, especially Albus. First day and already making steps.

"I know a few of you have letters today that you would like to get to. But I think we should give Albus the stage. He's earned it." She gestured towards the folder in front of Al and gave him an encouraging expression. "Your letter is inside of your folder. Still sealed – I promise. And it will only get opened by you when you're ready. And if that's not today, that is completely fine. Everything here gets done on your time."

The best part about being here was the lack of rush. The lack of pressure. It actually was a nice change and truly made Albus feel safe. He stared down at the manila folder, once more raking his nails over his forearms. There was something written in there specifically to him. From someone. Anyone.

It truly could have been anyone. Saying anything.

Very slowly, he reached to open the folder. On top of a few pieces of blank paper sat a still-folded letter addressed to him, just as expected. He took a deep breath before picking it up. Clearing his head. Readying for whatever it might be. Whatever it might say.

As he held the envelope, Albus felt like his vision was swimming. He was all of a sudden extremely warm and there was a voice screaming in his head to just open it already! The only thing holding him back, he was sure, was the fact that there was no name on the front of the envelope. Though when he flipped it over, there certainly was a Hogwarts' official seal holding the envelope closed. Which meant it was someone from the school writing to him….

That could have been…many people. Frankie (maybe a little unlikely, last time they had talked he had been angry), Rose, Hugo, Molly…. Louis, even? Or…. "Scorpius…," he whispered softly, gripping the letter rather tightly.

"What's that?" Miss O asked softly, watching Al. She was studying him, making sure he was indeed okay. That he wasn't going to push himself too far.

"Nothing," Albus said quickly and turned the letter over. He ripped it open much like tearing off a Band-Aid. In the process, he gave himself a paper cut but ignored the small drop of blood. He just wanted to see what it said. Who it was from. If it was from Scorpius…he just wouldn't read it!

A quick survey of the signature line put Albus' fears completely to rest. Where he expected to see a beautiful scrawl of his ex-maybe-boyfriend's name, there was instead a simple signature of the name 'Louis'. Relief flooded through him and he even let out a small laugh. "It's from…my cousin."

Smiling along with him, Miss O took a small note. "Is that not what you were expecting?"

Albus shook his head back and forth and pulled his eyes back up to the top of the page. "I have to read it aloud?" He was given a sign in the affirmative. "Okay…." Taking in slow breaths, he readied himself to read what had been written. Even if it had to do with Scorpius, he was sure he could handle it.

"'Hey there Boy, Interrupted.'" From the start, Al was bubbling with laughter. The connection to his family made him happy. This was just what he needed. "'Just wanted to let you know that everyone here misses you. No surprise, right? You're in a family that is nothing but close-knitted. We all got together the first night back and talked about you. They all were trying to figure out what happened. I, dutifully, kept my mouth shut.

"'But that's not the point of this letter. The point is that Scorpius wanted to tell you something. And he knew you would probably ignore any letter he might have sent you. Don't deny it.

"'All he wants me to say is that he misses you. And he loves you.'" Albus hesitated to say any more. He looked down at the words, hating the way his eyes swelled up with tears instantly. Scorpius still loved him. But all he could think was how it felt to have his heart ripped out. How sick it made him to see that boy…in that position…. "'And he regrets ever deciding to break up with you. I guess he's trying this thing where he tells the truth. He's already come out to his parents and told them about you. That's progress, right? He's dying to tell the whole school, too, but in light of your situation…I convinced him not to. That decision is up to you. When you're ready, you can tell whomever you choose.

"'That's it. I hope you're okay. I hope this helps you. But do let me know if you have decide you want to fly the cuckoo's nest. I'm up for a Sucker Punch style escape any day.

"'Lots of love, Louis'"

By the time he was finished reading, Albus felt like his heart had been ripped out and stomped on. Then stuffed back in his chest and forced to act like everything was okay. His smile was gone and he couldn't even breathe right with the help of Miss O's soft words. She was trying to say he was so brave for reading that out loud. That if he had anything he wanted to share, he had the floor. That he was free to write a response, but had to read it in group before it was allowed to be sent off.

But Albus just…couldn't do this. Any of it. He couldn't talk about what had happened with Scorpius. Especially not to this group or to the cute guy sitting next to him that was so open about his problems it was practically ridiculous. And there was no way he was writing back. He needed to get over Scorpius, so he couldn't give him the impression he wanted to fix things.

Scorpius was a big reason he was here. He was kind of the reason (along with Aubadon) that he had freaked out. He couldn't be allowed to break into this place and bring him down in any way.

Slowly, he slid the letter back into his folder. He didn't want to read it anymore. Not again. The first step to recovery, here, was to cut himself off from what had broken him down. He liked this place so far. He liked Devan so far. And he felt like this could be a good experience for him. That meant actually trying. And from here on, he was definitely going to try.

No more thoughts about Scorpius or his past life. This was a fresh start for Albus.