Draco couldn't believe this was session sixteen with Jennifer. It was crazy to think about. He recalled his earlier sessions with the mind healer and he had grown so much. After opening up about his task to kill Dumbledore things really started snowballing. Draco went from sitting in silence to opening up to her. It was hard but he kept pushing himself. He was proud of himself. He even looked forward to it most weeks.

Session ten wasn't nearly as bad as session nine but it was a rough week for him. He talked about his mother as that day he was missing her. Besides Hogwarts, this was the longest he'd been away from her. They hadn't seen each other in three years. They didn't see each other for holidays anymore as they both worked too much to get their mind off of things. Looks like Draco got that coping mechanism from her. He talked about all the good things.

"I remember the summer before my first year at Hogwarts," he smiled fondly at the memory, "I wanted a goodbye party but only with us three. You know, as a family. I demanded that we cook and bake the muggle way. My father was against it so he hid out in his office but my mother joined. She was always so put together, right? She never had any wrinkles in her clothes or her hair out of place. Even the war didn't stop her from looking elegant." He remembered when he saw his parents when Voldemort was calling him over, his mother hadn't even looked like she had been fighting. Always. It was something he loved about her. "We cooked dinner with ease. It was simple enough, some pasta I think. She obviously did most of the work. But we got to baking the dessert and I dropped the flour and of course, when it fell it got all over us. I was scared she was going to get mad at me for dirtying her dress. Merlin, she wore black that day so the flour stood out. It fell from the counter and flew everywhere. I was so sure she was going to send me to my room." He recalled her laughing and reaching down. He thought she was going to clean it up. "Next thing I know, she grabs the torn bag and dumps it over my head." He let out a small chuckle at the memory. Eleven-year-old Draco squealed and grabbed an egg before tossing it at her. It was a rookie mistake because she then threw the bowl of water at him, "it was my first and last food fight I ever had. By the end of it, the color of her dress was unrecognizable. Even cleaning spells did nothing. We both were covered in all the baking ingredients but we didn't even care about the cake at that point." The house elves weren't happy with them that day.

Session eleven was great. He finally perfected the pain-relieving potion! He couldn't wait to get it on the shelves of his shop and in the wizard hospitals all over Britain. He was all smiles all appointment and even ate three times that day! For breakfast he had toast with avocado on it, for lunch he had tomato soup with grilled cheese, and for dinner, he had some pasta at a restaurant with Blaise. He didn't even need his meal replacement potion! The day was good overall. He thought things were going so well.

But the thing about healing is there will be bad days and a bad day just so happened to be session twelve. His day was so miserable he almost didn't make it to his appointment. He was actually late to it. It was one of the frequent days when his nightmare got to him. It was so bad his magic shook the entire building, not just his apartment, and he lost a lot of the stock in his potion shop from it, including the potion he just spent months perfecting. He couldn't eat that day, either. His under eyes had bags under them. He couldn't get the image of Hermione being tortured out of his head. Her screams still made his ears ring.

"Healing isn't linear, Draco." Jennifer told him.

Session thirteen was spent coming up with a schedule. Jennifer seemed to think Draco needed healthier boundaries when it came to his work. The shop would be open Monday through Friday seven am until eight pm and Draco wasn't allowed to work on weekends. He only bent the rules slightly. He worked on a Sunday night because he couldn't fall asleep.

Sessions fourteen and fifteen were bad days again. He hadn't showered in the days between appointments and began to overwork himself again. He was trying to take his mind off of the fact that his father had sent him another letter. Cutting off contact was hard. Most days he didn't think he could do it. He felt like caving in and reading them.

"You could open it here if you'd like." She offered at session fourteen so at session fifteen he brought both letters but couldn't get past only opening the first letter before breaking down. He hadn't even read it, only broke the seal to the envelope.

Today was session sixteen. George got there before him as Draco was running a bit later than usual, sitting in his usual spot. Over the months the two also began to open up to each other. They had a routine. They'd have a short conversation before their appointments and drinks after, especially on particularly hard appointments for them Draco learned about George's struggle with keeping the shop open after Fred died.

"It was so hard to be surrounded by all the items we invented. It felt like he was still there." George told Draco one day before their appointment. "I knew he was gone but it almost felt like he wasn't. I was in denial for a while, it was like I had expected him to jump out and say 'just kidding!' but I knew he wasn't." Draco could see George's eyes tear up. "Ron even started working there to keep an eye on me for a bit. I felt terrible. He was an auror by day and worked at the shop at night just to make sure I was alright. That's when I came here, I couldn't let my brother overwork himself just to make sure I was okay."

"He's a good brother for that." Complimenting the Weasleys had become a normal occurrence. George spent so much time talking about his family that Draco couldn't help but admire them. They were full of so much love even after the war. Draco felt a little jealous.

Draco had been working on a potion for about a week now, he was excited to give it to George. "Hey, George." Draco greeted with a smile as he sat down. "I got you something." He held out his hand. It had a vile in it.

"What's this?" George asked, taking the vile and examining it. "Tryna poison me already? I haven't even given you a tour of the shop yet. I've put out so many new products!"

"A potion." He said, smirking. "One drop in someone's drink and they'll grow an elephant trunk." Getting to know George had brought out the kid in Draco since he didn't get to have a childhood. Draco learned he loved a good prank as much as George did.

George laughed, "Oh this is going to be fun for Christmas! I reckon I'll slip it into Ron's drink."

Draco laughed at the image of Ron with an elephant trunk, sitting at the table for dinner. It was a lovely image. "Take a picture if you do."

George laughed again, "I will. Thank you." He said, slipping it into his pocket.

Draco just shrugged in response. "Figured you'd like it."

George was called to his appointment and seconds later, so was Draco. He sat on the couch across from Jennifer, bouncing his knee. He was anxious today. It was a bad day for him. The nightmare he had last night felt so real. He felt the pain from the nightmare when he woke up. He still felt it.

Healing isn't linear. He had to remember that.

"I had a nightmare last night." He said after she asked how he was doing. "It was horrible."

"Tell me about it," Jennifer said. "If you want, if not we can talk about something else too."

Draco shook his head. "I'll tell you." He took a deep breath, "I'm at the table at the manor. The Dark Lord is at the head of the table. He found some sick pleasure in kidnapping muggles and…" a picture of one of the victims flashed in his head. They were looking directly at him before Voldemort killed them. "He enjoyed prolonging their death, to say the least." He could hear a woman screaming now. Fuck. He could do this. He could talk about this. "This time, it was a woman. Jennifer, she looked so scared. Oh, gods she must've been terrified. I could see her trembling." He just sat there while she was tortured. Draco was a coward. "I can't get the way she looked at me out of my head. I watched as he tortured her." He lowered his head, putting his face into his palms. "I watched her die." He wasn't going to cry. He didn't deserve to cry over this. "She was looking into my eyes when he killed her before the snake got to her." He couldn't say Nagini's name either. He risked looking up at his mind healer.

He expected her to tell him how horrible he was for allowing himself to witness death and not trying to stop it. Instead, the rest of the session was spent her telling Draco she was proud of him for sharing another nightmare with her and other things he didn't pay attention to. His mind was at Malfoy manor. He could smell the blood from Nagini eating up the victims.

He hated the smell of metal now.

When the session was over, Draco wasted no time leaving Jennifer's office. His hands were will shaking. George was sitting in the waiting room, waiting for him.

George gave him a small smile as he stood up. "Let's go get a drink." He said, earning a nod from Draco. They began to walk out of the hospital. "Talked about another nightmare?"

"Yeah," Draco muttered. Sessions where he talked about the war or his nightmares were always the hardest for him. It was the main reason the two became regulars at the pub. When he first started going to the pub the bartenders would glare at him, but over the months the glares turned into comforting smiles. They didn't hate Draco anymore.

The walk out of the hospital and to the pub was silent, they usually were when one of them had a rough session. It was routine at this point. The pub had a few people in there today, which isn't unusual. They sat at their usual spots at the bar and ordered their usual drinks.

"I get them too, you know," George said, finishing off his drink immediately after getting it from the bartender. "Still do. Even after all these years.

Draco tried not to flinch. He knew he shouldn't ask. He shouldn't pry. "What are they about?" He knew he shouldn't ask.

"Fred mainly."

Draco had to look up, he could feel his eyes sting. He didn't deserve to cry. It was his fault Fred was dead. He could've done something but he didn't. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." George shrugged. "You didn't kill him."

"I wasn't on your side." He muttered.

"What're yours about?" Fred asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Looks like they were both answering hard questions.

"The war. Mainly you know… everything that happened at the manor."

George nodded. "Luna told me some stories. Sounded horrible."

Draco scoffed, "Horrible would be an understatement."

"Is that why you… you know, got the mark? Because he was in your home?"

Draco was silent for a moment. "I didn't have a choice, honestly. I think he would've killed me and my parents if I hadn't gotten it." He whispered and looked down at his now empty glass. He didn't want to talk about this. He couldn't. He motioned to the bartender for another drink.

George was quiet for a few seconds, lost in thought. "I think," Draco tensed up. Is this where George yells at him for being a horrible person? Is this when Draco gets punched? Hexed? He was mentally preparing himself. "If I were in your shoes I would've done the same."

"What?"

"I think I would've done the same. I think if he was in my house and it meant I could protect my family then I would've done the same."

Draco could almost cry. He felt seen. He couldn't even talk, all he could do was nod and practically inhale the second drink he was given.

"Malfoy?" Someone said, causing both him and George to turn around.