Thanks to everyone who reviewed – you were all so encouraging which is great because I really wasn't sure about this fic.
In answer to some comments, no, Draco isn't going to be a heartless asshole in this fic like he is in a lot of others, and the reasons for this will be explained throughout the course of the story.
3. Away with the pixies
"Potter?"
"Malfoy?"
The two boys looked at each other in a shocked silence, neither believing the person in front of them was actually there.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.
"I work here," explained Draco. "As I'm sure Lyric here has been telling you."
Lyric smiled and nodded, twining a strand of hair around her fingers and nibbling the corner off a pink jellybean.
"What are you doing here?" demanded the silver-eyed boy, turning Harry's own question back on him.
"I – uh – I..." Harry sighed deeply and shrugged. "I've been admitted here."
He lowered his dark head, expect the infamous Malfoy comments and sneers, but was shocked when Draco just tutted and sat in the armchair.
"So you're the new guy all the nurses are twittering on about," he stated in a kind, low tone. "You might wanna lock your door at night or you'll wake up with a stranger in your bed."
"Not allowed to lock the doors," muttered Lyric, possibly to herself. "They think we'll hurt ourselves if they do."
Draco chuckled and rubbed Lyric's bare arm. "I was joking. But don't worry. It wasn't very funny."
"I like jokes when they're funny."
"I know you do Ricky. I'm gonna find some more for you."
Draco looked up at the clock and rose to his feet.
"Come on, time for you personal, Ric," he said, taking the girl's hand and gently pulling her up.
Lyric smiled and kissed Harry on the cheek.
"Bye bye."
"Bye Lyric. I'll come find you later, 'kay?"
"Harry, can you hang around here? I gotta walk Lyric but then I want to talk you," explained Draco.
The green eyed boy nodded. "Sure. I'll just sit here."
Draco smiled kindly at him again, before leading Lyric from the room, leaving Harry alone on the haggard blue sofa in a new place.
What was Draco Malfoy doing working as an attendant? In a treatment facility? In the muggle world? What was Draco Malfoy doing working, period?
He was loaded beyond belief, heir to the richest family in the magical world. He despised all those with impure blood, blood tainted with scent of despair that was muggle.
Maybe he'd had some kind of epiphany and realised that muggles were just as good as wizarding folk. But, even so, that still didn't explain why he was being kind to Harry.
His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again and Draco's smiling face re-entering. He appeared to have lost his trademark smirk, which disfigured his pale, angular face, and, instead, it was replaced by a bright, genuine smile. The smile transfigured his entire complexion. The boyish grin made him beautiful. It was easy to see why Lyric called him 'Angel face'.
He had stopped slicking his hair back and let strands fall over his liquid silver eyes. Those eyes, that before, had been cold and empty to Harry, holding only hate and disgust, now shone with compassion and happiness.
"Hey," he said, his once cruel tone now cheery and warm.
"Hi," replied Harry, somewhat wary of Draco's new character.
The blond settled himself back into the armchair and yawned widely, one hand over his mouth.
"Sorry. Didn't get much sleep."
His eyes looked Harry up and down and he smiled again.
"I'd ask how you are but maybe that's a bit of a dumb question."
This comment caused Harry to smile a little. "I'm actually not that bad. You?"
"I'm okay."
Draco brushed back his hair with a sweep of his hand and leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking intently at Harry.
"Why are you here?"
"Are you a therapist?" demanded Harry, his barriers automatically coming up.
Draco shook his head.
"No I'm not a therapist. But I'm the only person here under the age of thirty except for the patients. I'm not trying to find some psychological reason as to why you're here. That's not what I get paid for. I just wanted to know the actual, physical reason for why you're here."
He shrugged his shoulders in his blue T-shirt.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I think you'll find I'm able to understand more than you might think."
"Cutting," Harry muttered quickly, feeling his face redden as he did so.
He was ashamed that he had gone so low as to need to dig blood from his own flesh to be able to feel some kind of emotional release.
Draco nodded, understandingly, seemingly pondering his thoughts.
"I know we loathed each other at school," began Draco, "but I hope we can get over that. I'm here to help you if you need to talk. Not as a doctor or a professionally trained person, but as an eighteen year old boy. As a friend if we can manage it. And you can talk to me about anything. Magical and such like."
Harry smiled and relaxed, his skin cooling down. "Thank you."
"Not a problem. I'd also like it if you could find it in your heart to call me Draco."
"Only if you call me Harry."
The blond held out his hand to the dark haired boy, and they shook, smiling at each other.
"Good. I see you met Lyric."
Harry nodded. "Yea. She's...she's not really with it, is she?"
Draco shook his head, sadly this time. "She's been through a lot."
"She showed me she cut herself. But...in a way she's, I dunno, more with it than some people."
"Lyric's very perceptive. Most people just ignore her. Think she's crazy, which, admittedly, she most likely is. And that's sad. But she's not stupid. She knows more than we would all like to think."
"She told me I was magical. That I glow."
Draco smiled a cute, lop sided smile, looking almost shy. "Well she's right."
To his consternation, Harry felt his cheeks flush again and buried his chin in the neck of his sweater.
"Why are you here, Draco?"
The former Slytherin sighed softly and leant back in the chair.
"I don't hate muggles. Or half bloods. Never have. But I was a Malfoy and had to live up to my families, and everyone elses, expectations of me. Had I let on that I'm not totally heartless and into this pure blood shit then I would've been disowned."
He smiled ruefully.
"I got way too accustomed to living the life of Riley to have it all ripped away from me. But now my father's in jail and my mother's...somewhere, and we've left school and the war's over, I can be myself. And I want to help people. People like Lyric. People like you."
"Wow," breathed Harry. "You're one hell of an actor!"
Draco laughed. "Thanks."
The saviour of the wizarding world bit his legs and nervously picked once again at the hole in his jeans.
"Can I ask you something?" Harry ventured.
"Sure, what's up?"
"What actually happens here? I mean, what do we have to do?"
"Group meets once a week. You would've had that today. Um...you'll have one on one sessions with a therapist three times a week. Each session lasts an hour. There's a gym, study hall, library. Course, you have to be monitored in all of these."
"Why?"
"People with weight issues have to be supervised in the gym so they don't work themselves too hard, or the ones that need to lose weight so they actually work themselves. And the others in case someone has things they aren't allowed or tries to hurt themselves or something."
Harry frowned. "People can find things to hurt themselves with in the library?"
"You'd be surprised. One girl scratched the fuck out of her wrists with a loose staple under one of the chairs in there."
Draco bit his lip and blushed a pale pink.
"Sorry, I didn't think 'bout what I was saying."
"Don't worry." Harry rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to survive in here."
The blond moved to sit next to the other boy on the sofa and hesitantly rubbed his arm.
"I'm going to help you. 'Kay? You ever need to talk or anything, I'm gonna be here."
"Okay. Thank you."
"Don't mention it. I gotta go get Lyric and then I have stuff to do. But I'll come find you later."
Harry shrugged, still not lifting his head and Draco squeezed his shoulder.
"I promise."
I think that chapter was longer than my others. Woohoo! Not that it's hard though.
Review please.
