Regarding Harry
By Tsujton
Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling et al. I make no profit (story of my life…).
Summary: Harry destroys the last Horcrux and defeats Voldemort – but in doing so, winds up back where he started the night he got his scar: with the mind of a fifteen month old. But the Death Eaters are out for revenge… Big baby!Harry. Slightly slashy. Some abuse and violence, so rated: M
A/N: Many thanks to katzeboston for her wonderful beta work, and to the HP Lexicon for existing in all its glory.
Chapter 12: Third Time: More Of A Hex Than A Charm
Merlin's Balls, he hated that damn ceiling. Plain. White. Plaster. If they were going to go around hexing people with Petrificus Totalus, at least they could make the ceiling interesting.
Bloody boring view. Draco fumed helplessly, and although he hated the harsh clanging that accompanied this particular form of Body-Bind, it did mean that someone would be along shortly to release him. He only hoped it wasn't –
The clanging abruptly stopped.
"Oh, no. Not again!"
Damn it! It was. That dreadful Nurse, Euan Ackerley. A former Hufflepuff, no doubt, groused Draco.
"Draco, this is the third time this week. You know your privileges are going to be revoked?"
Draco, of course, could say nothing. He was still unable to move and he was furious about that. Yes, there was definitely a reason 'Nurse' rhymed with 'curse'.
"I've a mind to leave you there for a bit," the Nurse threatened.
NO! Damn it. He had no control. His eyes began to water, and it was just like that bloody busybody, Ackerley, to notice.
"Oh, I'm sorry, boy-oh. That was a cruel thing to say. Finite Incantatem." He waved his wand and as soon as Draco could move again, he closed his eyes and forced back the tears. He took another moment to calm himself before stiffly getting up from the floor. Ackerley reached a hand out to help him but Draco roughly shook it off.
"Don't touch me!" he growled.
"Don't get all huffy with me, young man. You're the one who caused the Petrificus to go off, not me," he said indignantly.
"I didn't do anything!" Draco snapped back.
"Oh really? The proof is in the Petrificus, my dear boy."
Draco flinched at that. "I was just looking out the window. I wasn't going to jump. I just needed to give my eyes a respite from this horrid excuse for decor you have around here." His tone was equally indignant.
"Tell it to the Healer, boy-oh. Let's go. Now." The burly Nurse gestured down the hall, and Draco, jaw tight and fists clenched, walked ahead of him to the lift, which they took down one floor from the Visitor's Tearoom to the newly created Cedric Diggory ward.
St Mungo's had had to open up the new ward on the fourth floor for youths who had survived the war physically intact but suffering from severe non-magical emotional damage. Since the demise of Voldemort, many things in the Wizarding World had begun to change, resulting in the emergence of a greater curiosity about and acceptance of Muggles. Thus, St. Mungo's had begun officially adding Muggle techniques to their conventional medical practices especially with regard to what Muggles called "mental health." Healer Augustus Pye, who had pioneered the use of complementary medicine at St. Mungo's (after a few failed fits and starts in his days as a trainee), was instrumental in creating this ward.
The children therein included witches, wizards, squibs, pure-bloods, half-bloods and Muggle-borns. Daughters and sons of those who had lost their lives in the war or the post-war Death Eater riots, and others whose parents had been Death Eaters themselves. Draco Malfoy was one such patient – and quite a unique case in that he was the only one who had himself been a Death Eater. Some members of the staff were a little fearful of him for that. Not Nurse Ackerley, though.
He took his cues from his supervisor, Healer Perseus Vanes. Vanes was a hard-nosed but effective Healer whose caseload consisted mainly of Slytherins. He was the obvious choice to be Draco Malfoy's case manager.
When he had first arrived at St. Mungo's, Draco had been almost completely unresponsive. The Muggle Healer who worked with him, Dr. Elisabeth Habersham, called it a 'Dissociative Disorder'. Following a few weeks of intense therapy sessions both with Dr. Habersham and with Perseus Vanes, Draco had come out of that phase. Dr. Habersham had said that Draco was making progress in moving from denial to anger, and that in the Muggle world these were typical stages preceding the ultimate goal of acceptance. Nurse Ackerley wasn't particularly fond of the 'anger' stage and his patience with Draco was wearing thin. He thought it prudent to keep silent en route to the Healers. Let them deal with the little prat; he had some Hufflepuffs to coddle.
Draco sat in the reception area scowling and slowly scratching the skin on the side of his hand. As long as he didn't dig deep enough to draw blood he was safe. He'd found that out the hard way earlier in the week. Nobody had bothered to tell him he'd been warded (or 'hexed', as he felt it should rightly be called). They'd placed him under a double warding charm that would petrify him and sound an alarm should he try to harm himself in any way. After he was released from the Body-Bind and all was explained to him, Draco had been furious. The next chance he got he tested the wards. The dinner knife had barely touched his wrist when Draco suddenly found himself face up on the dining area floor, staring at that bloody ceiling. After giving it some thought, he had felt certain that if he 'accidentally' fell out of the owl post window in the Visitor's Tearoom that he would be successful. He had prepared carefully, filling his head with thoughts of Great Horned owls bringing boxes of sweets from Honeyduke's through that window. He tried to Occlude his ulterior motives but it was apparently to no avail. As soon as he got close enough to touch the sill of the window, he was flat on his back – again!
His reminiscing was interrupted by Healer Vanes calling his name.
"Draco, come in and sit down."
As soon as his backside hit the sofa, Draco burst out with, "I didn't do anything! Your warding charms are all screwed up!"
"Draco, do you intend this discussion to be a complete waste of my time and yours? You were warned as to what would happen if you attempted to harm yourself. You cannot fool the charms you were warded with. As long as you are here –"
"I don't want to be here!" Draco shouted vehemently. He couldn't stand this lack of control another moment. His fists were pressed into his thighs in an effort to remain seated and not strike out at the smug Healer before him. He could only imagine what he had been 'charmed' with for that scenario.
"I know it won't help to tell you to calm down. But I do wish you would see the value in doing so, Draco."
Draco just glared at the man, seething.
"Tell me then, Draco, where would you like to be?"
Vanes could see his comment was having the desired effect. He'd caught Draco completely off guard.
"Wh-What?"
"I asked where you would like to be rather than here. A fairly simple question."
Something familiar about the man's tone caused Draco to look up sharply. The Healer just looked dispassionately back at him, awaiting an answer. It was a simple question, wasn't it? Where did Draco want to be? Not Malfoy Manor. It had been confiscated and sold along with all the other Malfoy properties and effects by the Ministry of Magic – ironically enough to help fund St. Mungo's efforts to aid veterans and orphans of the war. Draco had no living relatives on either side of the conflict who would welcome him – a failed Death Eater – into their homes. Draco wished he could go back to Hogwarts; that surprised him. And when he thought about the reason why, he was even more surprised and not a little disgusted: Potter. He wanted to see Potter again.
"Hmm, you never mentioned Potter in our sessions before."
"What?!" Draco looked up at the Healer again, incredulous. In his musings, he had forgotten where he was. "Get out of my head!" he growled, and Occluded his mind. But the almost undetectable presence of the Healer had already gone, leaving behind a puzzlingly familiar trace. Then Draco tried Legilimency on the Healer, but the man was ready for him and Draco hit a blank wall. He growled in frustration.
"You didn't really think you'd be able to get through, did you?"
"Shut up! Just shut up! Why can't you leave me alone? That's where I want to be: ALONE!"
"Your thoughts indicate otherwise," said the Healer, softly. "Why Harry Potter, of all people? It was my understanding that you two had a …highly volatile ongoing rivalry at school."
Why indeed? Draco could feel a prying again at his mind and he attempted to push it out.
"Draco. I won't hurt you. I won't use what I find for any purpose other than to help you. You have my word on that."
Draco looked up miserably. "Why?" he whispered hoarsely. "Why would you want to help me? Don't you know what I am? What I've done?" he choked out.
"I know you better than you think, Draco. Better, perhaps, than you know yourself even. It's alright to be afraid, but you shouldn't have to face it – you don't have to face it alone.
"I do – I am…" Draco leaned forward and cradled his head in his arms.
The Healer watched him silently for several minutes before continuing quietly. "Tell me about Potter. About…Harry." He waited. At last Draco's resolve melted away and he looked up, allowing the Healer entry to his thoughts:
Harry was worried about him.
Harry wanted him.
Harry needed him.
Nobody needed him.
But Harry did.
And Draco needed Harry.
Needed to protect him.
To comfort him.
To – No
Needed not to be this evil, soulless Death Eater, who had weakly followed Voldemort.
And killed his own father.
Who had no one in the world that he could turn to.
Who deserved to be alone.
Who was worthless.
Who deserved to die…
Silent tears were streaming down Draco's cheeks and soaking his collar. He shut his eyes tight against them and against the thoughts and memories that the Healer was bringing to the fore. Then, though Draco had not noticed any movement, he felt himself enfolded into an embrace. He stiffened at the contact and tried to shrug it away, but the Healer held fast, pulling Draco up so that his head rested against the man's chest. Perseus Vanes rocked Draco gently until the boy was lulled into a state of peaceful slumber.
"Dragon," he whispered. "I'm sorry you had to go through all this. I'm so sorry I could not protect you."
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Next up, Chapter 13: Harry's Second Chance
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