Chapter Seventeen: Snake
Draco definitely stuck out like a sore thumb and was, as expected, an instant mood killer. Neville had taken one look at him and gone straight into a different room, leaving Hermione to chase after him.
"I must be having a nightmare," Neville said, holding his sides as if he were afraid that he'd break apart if he let go. "I thought he was still at St. Mungo's."
"It's alright, Neville," Hermione said, putting a hand on his arm. "He's a bit different now. Besides, he doesn't have a wand; you've got nothing to fear."
"It's not the wand I fear," he mumbled back, but followed her into the living room just the same.
Seamus had actually burst out, "What is he doing here?" which had earned him a whack on the head courtesy of his former dorm mate.
"He's my mate now. Aren't you, Draco?" Ron threw a fist playfully into Draco, who attempted a weak smile. Being a venom-less snake surrounded by a bunch of not-too-friendly lions did not appeal to him at all.
Why am I here again? Oh yes, it's a part of my so called therapy. Bollucks, that.
"How's it so far?" Hermione asked quietly, suddenly appearing at his shoulder. Her eyes were dark, which he had come to know as a property she had when she was tired or stressed.
"Fan-fucking-tastic, as expected..." His sneer fell as he looked at her. She didn't need his shit right now, he realized. "You look very nice, Granger," he said, hoping she didn't take his compliment as a way to pull her out of her funk. He needed her to be in top form for tonight, just in case one of her buddies decided to open fire on him - not to mention that he felt a tad guilty to see her so stressed.
She must have been out of it, because she didn't see his intentions. "Why thank you, Draco. So do you."
Draco snorted. "No I don't."
"Nicer than a prisoner, Malfoy," came Harry's voice from behind him. Draco turned a bit to let him in the conversation, though he did not want to speak to him. Just leave it to Harry Potter to make everything worse.
"Yes, it is," Hermione said, looking over at Draco expectantly.
Ugh.
"Thank goodness for your conscience, Potter," Draco said, looking at the other man. "Otherwise I might be dead right now."
Harry shrugged, taking a sip of what appeared to be a glass of firewhiskey... something Draco was not allowed to have. Stupid parole. "I did what felt right at the time, and apparently it's helped - you aren't as much of a social goblin."
Draco smirked. "I'm still the same social goblin. I'm just a few soul-suckings wiser."
Harry cringed visibly and took another swig of his drink. He understood the power of dementors. "That must have been beyond awful."
Draco nodded, keeping Harry's gaze. "It certainly was. Every day felt like an eternity in there. No color, no music, no happiness, and the only sounds I heard were screaming and crying." He turned to glance at Hermione, and immediately wished that he hadn't.
She was writing on a little pocket notepad.
Draco threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, Granger? I'm not on your couch right now."
Hermione actually grinned at him, and his eyebrows shot up. "I just like to annoy you."
He shook his head and turned back to Harry, who had been watching the little exchange with a note of mirth in his eyes. "Getting better hasn't earned me any friends though, except Granger and Ron."
Harry smiled. "I saved your life, Malfoy - don't tell me that we aren't good mates!"
Attending the little get together were basically people he'd remembered from school - people like Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, both of whom were looking distinctly frazzled. There were also people that he knew by face - like Seamus, a kid known at school for constantly blowing things up, and one of the Weasley twins, who had been famous for his - and his brother's - tricks, products, and general shenanigans. Draco had popped into their shop once or twice back in school, despite their surname.
Even the pretty red-head that had now taken Potter's side he remembered, as well as the tall, dark-skinned man behind her.
It was surreal, seeing all these people together in the same room. He half expected Professor McGonagall to walk in as well.
"Thank you all for coming," Ginny said, her voice comanding the guests to quiet down.
Draco moved to the back of the room, trying to stay out of everyone's way as to avoid an "accident" of some sort.
"You all know why we're here," she said, grinning. There were cheers around the room, and Harry looked down to hide his growing blush, also grinning. "So why don't we dig in?"
"Now you're talking," Dean said from behind her, earning more cheers and whistles.
"Food's in the next room... and then you know what happens - we have a proper party, Gryffindor style!" There was more cheering.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Great."
"What does she mean, 'Gryffindor style?'" Draco asked from behind her. "We all prance around like lions?"
Hermione turned to look at him and sighed. "It means we all eat, get smashed, and act like complete idiots all night long." She looked like she didn't like that fact one bit.
Draco shrugged. This ought to be quite an experience. "Don't forget - I still have a curfew to meet."
Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry. I'll get you out of their way before they really start acting crazily." She looked around the room. "And I won't let them hex you."
Draco nodded, feeling glaring eyes on his back. "That would be nice. Do they know that I don't have a wand?"
Hermione hesitated. Some of them had probably figured this out or known this, like Harry and Ginny, but she could not speak for the others. Neville knew, but what could he possibly do to hurt Draco? Well, other than jump on his back and beat him up - which was not something the tentative boy would do.
"I want to make a toast," Draco said, the first time he had spoken up the entire night. "To Harry Potter - " There was dead silence as everyone in the room turned to look at him. Draco tried not to hyperventilate under their stares. " - without whom, I'd be rotting in Azkaban."
There was more silence as the group tried to process the compliment, and then collectively broke into inebriated grins. "To Harry!" they said.
"And," Draco said over the clinking of glasses, "To Hermione Granger, without whom, I would still be a psychopath."
"You still are," Hermione said, earning chuckles and grins.
"To Hermione!" they said, clinking glasses.
"And, to Ronald Weasley - "
"And to the Fat Friar and Genghis Khan..." said Seamus. The group laughed, and Draco nodded admittedly.
The air warmed up considerably as they drank (Draco from his glass of pumpkin juice) and talked. Draco looked around - Hermione was sitting on his left, Harry on his right. He wondered at this before turning to Harry.
"I like your haircut, by the way, Draco," Harry had said.
Draco reached up and ran his hand through it. "Thanks. I was sick of having it long."
"It makes you look less like an Inferi," said Ginny from beside Harry, looking over at him.
"Or an albino snake," Draco said, looking down at his plate.
"Alright, Draco. I have something new for you today."
Draco rolled his eyes. "What is it now? You want me to - "
"No," she said, cutting him off before he could annoy her. Hermione set her quill down and took out a stiff, bleached bit of parchment. "What I have you doing now is part of atoning for your crimes. Do you see that?"
He stared at her.
"I am forcing you to look at everything you've known and pick it apart. That is the first part of atonement. What have I shown you? Blood. Your old mates. Significant events in your life. All of these things are supposed to get you to think about the past. Now that we've done those things, I think you should know, accurately, what you were."
"So... this isn't therapy, then. All of this has been behavior correction?"
"I never said that."
"But that's what it is, isn't it? Therapy would be convincing me not to kill myself, not giving me more reasons to."
"Draco!" Hermione said sharply. "Didn't I tell you last time what therapy is? It is correcting what is wrong so that you can heal. Healing is only a part of it - we still haven't finished with the other part. You can't just... slap a bandage on a broken arm with some painkilling potion! It doesn't fix the break, it just dulls the pain. You go through the rest of your life with an inferior arm, don't you?"
"But I can't change what happened."
"No, you can't. What happened is done with and gone, there's no fixing it. But you need to understand it, you need to look at and know that it was - "
"Oi, therapist!" Draco said, covering his ears. "Shut it with the rhetoric! I don't want to hear that!"
Hermione put her head in her hands and counted backwards from ten. "Okay then. Do you not want to hear what I was going to say then? Because it starts the healing process."
Draco uncovered his ears. "I want to hear it."