disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. belong to J.K. Rowling. I am not her. The song You're so last summer belongs to Taking Back Sunday. I am not anyone of them.

warnings: Hints for child abuse, violence and suicide.

song: You're so last summer by Taking Back Sunday

A/N: Well. I must say that this was probably the most difficult chapter to write. I hope you like it, I worked my ass off. And after this, onemore chapter and then it's done. Enjoy:

Draco was sitting on the most uncomfortable chair he had ever come across with facing a small brunette aged somewhere around 40. A smile was playing on her rouged lips as she watched Draco just sit there. She was Doctor Melinda Walters, his psychiatrist he saw every week. And like every week, it was Draco's job to start the conversation. After the greetings, she said nothing until Draco spoke.

"My friend died this Saturday." She waited him to continue, but when he didn't, she smiled at him compassionately.

"How did it make you feel?"

"I don't know. I haven't really gotten a chance to think about it."

"How so?"

"I've kind of been the shoulder to cry on most of the time." She nodded, with a knowing expression on her face. "What?"

She cleared her throat. "Draco, it is good that you are there for others, but you too need to deal with your lost. I am getting the impression that you had not mourned your friend at all, yet?"

"Well I haven't cried my eyes out, if that's what you mean."

"No," She shook her head, used to being snapped at. "That is not what I mean. We all mourn in our own special way. Even though crying is common, it is not compulsory. But you say that you have not had the time to sit and think about the death of your friend, because others have relied on you to be their rock."

"What are you saying?"

"You tell me, Draco."

He sighed. She did this all the time. First she would say something and then she made Draco tell her what she meant. Draco found this annoying, but she wanted him to figure things out himself and so make his self-esteem stronger. "Well… You're suggesting that I ditch my friends when they need me because I have mourning to do? I can do that later."

"True enough. But you do know that the later you mourn, the harder it will be." Draco didn't answer. He knew this very well. "You need to take some time for yourself, be selfish, find someone to be your shoulder. It does not mean that you are abandoning your friends. But you too need to go through the mourning process and deal with your lost before moving on."

"What if I don't want to deal with it?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if…" He started, taking a deep breath. "Why can't I just move on without mourning ceremonies or crying in the dark?"

"Draco, suppressing your feelings is unwell, it does you no good. You need to say goodbye, before you can truly move on with your life. It does not matter how you do it, just as long as you do it. If you keep your feelings, your sadness, anger, lost, bottled up, they will come back and haunt you."

"You're talking about depression, aren't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, and that in your case is-"

"Life threatening?" Draco suggested.

She nodded again. "You have done well, Draco, very well. I am very proud of your progress. But you are still awfully fragile and unsteady. You have achieved so much, and I do not think that either of us wants you to go back where you started." Draco sat silent for a while. Then he told her what he had told Harry about Devian's last words to him. She gave an understanding nod and waited him to continue. He didn't.

"Has anyone ever betrayed your trust so terribly that you've wanted to kill both, them and yourself?" He asked some time later.

"We are not here to talk about me."

"I know. I was just wondering if you could forgive someone who's done so."

"Draco, if you wish to forgive someone, it is your decision." She got that knowing smile again.

"Yes, I know. It's just so complicated. How can you hate and love someone at the same time?"

"Hmm… My mother once told me that the more you hate a person after they have wronged you, the more you really care for them."

"Because if they meant nothing to you, you wouldn't care if they hurt you?" Draco asked. "But what if the hate is stronger than the love?"

"Is it?"

Draco was dumbstruck by this simple little question. "I… Well… But…" He then started pouting like a little boy and said nothing for a while again. "I remember this day back in London when I was twelve years old." He started, suddenly feeling very cold. He lifted his legs on the chair and wrapped his arms around them. "It was a nice day. Warm and sunny. I think it was in July." She nodded. Draco had told this story to her before, many times. She wasn't sure if he remembered telling it to her, but it obviously was important enough to be told every week.

"I was sitting in the living room by the piano, but I wasn't playing. I just sat there staring at the notes for almost an hour. I knew that my father would come home soon and he would want to see me play. He said to me many times that my playing was the first thing he wanted to hear when he came home from work. But that day I just couldn't make myself to do it." Slowly, he started swing a bit in his chair. "He came home and I still wasn't playing. The sound of the door scared me. I remember being terrified. He was home and the first thing he heard was mother screaming in their bedroom. I knew that I should've left the house, or at least run to the attic and lock the door." He took a deep breath.

"But I didn't. Father came to me asked me why I wasn't playing. I apologized and said that there was something wrong with the piano. It didn't sound right. It was a lie and of course father knew it. But then mother came into the living room, she was furious. She started yelling to me about her pearl earrings. The ones her mother had given her. She told me that I had taken them. But I knew nothing about them, I didn't even know grandmother had ever given her anything." He stopped, just like every week at this part of the story.

"Did you tell her that?"

"Yes, but she called me a liar. I started crying and told her I was sorry. I kept telling her how sorry I was and that I didn't mean to take them."

"But you did not take them at all, did you?"

"No. Or if I did I can't remember it. She called me a thief and went back to their bedroom. I was still crying. I kept apologizing though I knew no one was listening to me. Father told me to go to my room. I did and he followed. After he had closed the door he told me what a piece of shit I was. I was a failure in every way and he was ashamed of having me as a son." Silent tears started rolling down his pale cheeks.

"What did he do then?" She asked, even though she knew.

"He hit me. He beat me so bad that I passed out." He breathed warily, hugging himself tighter.

"How do thinking and talking about it make you feel?"

"I… It was my fault."

"Getting beaten up by your father?"

"Yeah. It was all my fault. If I hadn't stolen mother's earrings-"

"But you did not steal them, did you?"

"I…" Draco looked around like a frightened deer. "I don't remember."

"You said that you did not."

"I did? Oh, yeah, I did. No, I said that I can't remember doing it."

"But why would you have wanted to steal them? What would you do with pearl earrings?"

Draco couldn't answer that. "It was my fault, anyway."

"Why?"

"Because everything is always my fault. When mother was late from her hair dresser, it was my fault. When father had to fire some people at work, it was my fault that they lost their jobs. It was my fault."

"Draco," She started. "You could not have possibly affected on your mother's schedule and how well she kept up with it. And it was your father's company's business if they had to let some of their employees go. You were only a child. And what your father did to you that day, it was not your fault. Nothing your father has done to you, has ever been your fault."

He merely asked for a piece of paper and pen. He wrote something on the paper and gave it and the pen back to her. But he told her not to open it until he had left. Then he stayed silent for a few minutes. "After the funeral," He started then. "We got drunk and the next morning I woke up next tohim."

"Who?"

"My ex-boyfriend."

"The one who cheated on you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We didn't do much, but… It was nice waking up next to him. I wanted to stay there and just hug him."

"Was it because it was him next to you, or because there was just somebody?"

"I… It was because of him. I had completely forgotten what it was like to lie in the same bed with him but then all the memories just flooded in." Draco started to relax again, he dropped his legs off the chair and he felt warm again. "All the good memories."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Confused. I don't know if I'm allowed to feel like this towards him. It's like… Like I would miss him."

"All of your feelings are allowed, Draco."

"Even if I say that I might still be in love with him? Is that allowed? I mean, after what he did? Am I allowed to trust him without some office lady coming to me and telling that I'm supposed to hate and despise him forever?"

"There are no such office ladies, I can assure you. If you feel like you can trust him, I am only encouraging you to do so. It is important for you to have people who you can trust around you."

"Huh." Draco pulled his legs back into his lap and hugged them. He stayed like that until the time was coming to an end. "I'm still in love with him."

She gave a small smile. "Maybe you could tell him that."

Draco stood up and they shook hands. "Maybe."

"I'll see you next week, Draco."

He nodded and left the room. She took the piece of paper Draco had written on earlier and unfolded it. On the top of the paper was

DAD, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

written on big, harsh letters. Under that was a piece of lyrics by some band she had never heard of, and then she didn't even recognize them as song lyrics.

The truth is that you could slit my throat
And with my one last gasping breath
I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt

A/N: I've got one word; review (aka buy my love by pressing the 'Go'-button).

THANK YOU for those who have reviewed. I worship you. Do it again!