It had been five years since the war. Five years since The Dark Lord was killed and the war was finally over. Everyone had moved on with their lives. Hogwarts reopened and students were back in school. Things were normal again for everyone. Well, except for Draco Malfoy. He was still living in the war. Every morning he woke up to nightmares, horrible ones at that. Every night he dreamt of the things he was forced to do because of The Dark Lord. He couldn't eat because of the guilt, either. He couldn't even leave his tiny flat unless it was to go check in with the Aurors or to run his business. Every day Draco felt like he was still fighting in the war and he felt so guilty because of it. Sure, his father was in Azkaban and his friends died but he deserved it for fighting on the wrong side of the war. He deserved it for torturing innocent people. He deserved it for bearing the dark mark. He deserved it for killing so many innocent people. At least, that's what he told himself every day.
It's not like he didn't try to do good, he did. He pretended not to recognize Harry at the manor. He couldn't kill Dumbledore. He even threw Harry his wand because he knew Harry didn't have his and Draco knew Harry needed to get rid of the dark lord for good. But that wasn't good enough. Draco should've just stood up to his father, run away, or gone to Dumbledore for help. Anything. Instead, he did the coward thing. He did nothing. He did nothing to stop himself from getting the dark mark. He did nothing to stop his aunt from torturing people in front of him. He did nothing as he watched Snape kill Dumbledore. He did nothing so well that even when potter testified to keep Draco and his mother from going to Azkaban he just sat there and said nothing. He didn't even say thank you. He couldn't look at Harry, either. He still can't after all these years.
Draco Malfoy was a coward. He brought shame to the name he was once so proud to have. He found it funny because now he was ashamed to be a Malfoy. But at the end of the day, he was still a Malfoy and he always would be. He liked to think it was payback from the universe for being so proud to be a Malfoy and how he treated people because of it before the war. The Malfoys were well respected and looked up to. Draco did anything and everything he could to honor the Malfoy name.
After the war, the Malfoy manor was taken away from him and his mother, at first it was taken for evidence but now Draco thinks they're holding on to it to be cruel. He didn't think he wanted to live there again anyway. At first, it was a struggle to find a place to live, nobody wanted to rent or sell their house or apartment to former death eaters. Things got so bad that his mother moved abroad, now working in a bakery in France. It took a while for Draco, but after a year of couch surfing and staying in muggle hotels, Draco bought a flat and a store. In an attempt to prove that he wasn't evil, he opened up a potions store. He'd always loved potions and he was amazing at it. Even Voldemort had him brewing potions for him and the other death eaters. Nowadays, however, he brewed potions for good. He tried to prove that his having a second chance wasn't a mistake, he really did but it was difficult at first. He invented so many new potions that helped out patients at almost all the wizard hospitals in Britain. Admittedly he only worked so hard because it was the only thing that could distract him. He started making non-addicting potions to replace addictive ones that were even stronger than the original. He even donated most of the money he earned to charities. The money from the family vaults had gone to rebuilding Hogwarts and funding witches and wizards who needed mind healers after the war.
Draco had always been stubborn. He thought he could cope and move on with his life by himself. After all, the Malfoy's are strong. They don't need a mind healer, he told himself after every nightmare or every magical outburst from his emotions taking over. He was never going to see a mind healer. He didn't need one. He told himself the first few years following the war.
Which is why he found it ironic that he was walking down the hall at St Mungos. Blaise had become a mind healer and recommended one to Draco, insisting it could help him and that the person Draco was going to wouldn't judge him. Draco sat down in a chair, taking a deep breath. He could feel his chest tighten and panic start to fill his body. He shouldn't have listened to Blaise. He didn't need a mind healer. He should've just canceled the appointment. Draco closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, trying to focus on his breathing. He didn't need a panic attack right now. The room felt like it was spinning so Draco grabbed the armrests so hard his knuckles turned white. Draco could feel his body start to sweat and his stomach does flips. Merlin, he couldn't vomit. Not now. He didn't even know why this was happening right now. He'd been at st Mungos so many times. Why was this different?
Well, Draco knew. It was because he was finally seeing a mind healer and he was terrified.
"Oi, Malfoy." A semi-familiar voice said, causing him to open his eyes. He'd been too wrapped up in his own emotions he didn't feel someone sit down next to him. Not just someone, but George Weasley. Oh no. If he knew his legs wouldn't give out on him he would've run, but he couldn't even feel them. Were they even still there? Draco closed his eyes again, preparing himself for a punch to the face, a hex, anything but nothing happened. Instead, he could feel George's body heat as he leaned in, "come here often?" The other male asked, Draco could just hear the smirk in his voice. His tone wasn't flirty but it was… friendly?
What?
Draco opened his eyes and looked at the other, "Pardon?"
"I said, come here often?" He repeated.
Draco was confused. Why was George talking to him? As if they were friends? For Merlin's sake, his aunt killed Fred! George should be punching and kicking Draco's face in! Not making jokes as if they were friends. They were never friends. His confusion made him relax in the slightest. "No?"
"First time, then?" George asked, reaching over and grabbing a magazine, and opening it.
Dracos shocked by George's casualness. "I-" was all he could get out before an older woman in about her mid-forties stepped out.
"Mr. Malfoy?" She calls out, flashing Draco a smile when he stands. He was silently thanking the gods for saving him. He didn't think he could handle another second next to George. It hurt him too much.
Don't be such a coward, Malfoy. He lost his friends and family because of you. You don't get to be hurt. He told himself.
He stepped into her office and plopped down on the couch and did what he does best. Nothing. He said nothing. He just sat there with his thoughts while she sat across from him. He appreciated that she didn't try to force him to talk, she just sat there too, and waited for him to talk. She tried to ask the usual questions but Draco would shrug. She might've been used to it because she didn't seem bothered. He imagined not many people wanted to talk after the war. He thought there had to have been hundreds of her appointments that went like this. Sitting in silence for an hour.
"Well.. our time is up, Mr. Malfoy." She said, standing up.
Draco stood up as well and followed her to the door, "Can we… can we try again next week?" He asked quietly. He didn't know why he was asking. He was probably going to do the same thing again. He guessed it didn't matter much to her since she was getting paid whether he talked or not.
She smiled, "Of course. Same time?" Her tone was friendly. Too friendly to be used on a former death eater. He didn't deserve kindness.
He just nodded in response, finally exiting her office.
The next week Draco arrived at his appointment, but this time George Weasley was there before him. Draco tried to ignore the other male and picked a seat far away.
"Malfoy," George greeted, lowering the magazine. "Fancy seeing you here." Again, his tone was friendly.
What was up with that? Why was George being nice to him?
"Could say the same to you." He muttered. He didn't know why he responded to him. Maybe he wanted to see what George's motives were.
"Ah, I'm here every week. Been like that for the last five years. Haven't seen you before. Didn't think Malfoy's needed mind healers."
Draco scoffed, crossing his arms. "They don't." Malfoys didn't need mind healers. But yet, here Draco was. Waiting for his appointment. "Didn't think the Weasleys could afford a mind healer." He ended up saying. He knew it was wrong to say, but he couldn't stop himself.
"They can when a Malfoy is paying for it." George's tone was… weird. He wasn't offended. Instead, he sounded almost amused. George even had a smirk on his face.
Draco couldn't help but let the corners of his mouth turn up in the slightest, "Valid point." He knew the amount of money that went towards funding mind healers so that people could see mind healers for free for years. He felt a little happy that people were taking advantage of it.
"George?" A younger man, maybe a little older than George stepped out.
"That's my cue. See you next week." George said as he stood up.
George did in fact see Draco the next week.