AN- Hi all, just wanted to let you know, I really would like some reviews for this! I haven't gotten any yet, and that makes me rather sad… please, please, review! Enjoy this chapter, and trust me, I'm not JKR.
A small pop sounded in the back alley of a tiny, run-down house. Draco Malfoy brushed off a speck of dust from his robes and looked around him, trying to get over the uncomfortable feeling of Apparition.
The place looked as though no one had been there in years. The grass was overgrown and threatened to spring up through cracks in the sidewalks. Paint seemed to peeling off of the walls of the house. Sneering, Draco strode purposefully around to the front of the house, and pulling open the heavy wood door, walked inside.
The inside was obviously charmed to look quite a lot better than the outside. A large desk stood in a small receptionist area in the front, with a gold-plated plaque saying simply "Dr. Orion Cromwell." Draco passed this desk and opened a door into a large room that seemed to be composed primarily of pillows and mirrors.
Dryly, he commented, "I think someone's mattress just exploded." He heard a chuckle behind him and immediately spun around, drawing his wand. He saw a man of about thirty approaching him. "No need for that," he said pleasantly. "I'm not planning on attacking you anytime soon."
Giving him an apprehensive look, Draco put his wand back in his robes, feeling slightly foolish for his overreaction. "Who are you?" he asked roughly, to cover up his embarrassment. The man extended his hand for Draco to shake. "I'm Dr. Orion Cromwell. I take it you are Draco Malfoy?"
Draco merely nodded, allowing his hand to be shaken. "Welcome, Mr. Malfoy. Just give me a few more minutes for people to arrive and then we'll get started on our group therapy sessions." Therapy sessions. Draco shook his head. How did he let his mother convince him into this?
After Narcissa had woken from his awful nightmare, she had sent him straight back to bed with a Dreamless Sleep potion, giving Winky firm instructions to watch him closely and inform her of any unusual behavior. The next morning, after Lucius's departure, she had turned to him. After much arguing and pleading, she had managed to cajole Draco into accepting therapy sessions to help him get over his nightmares.
Now, one week later, he was sitting in a stuffy room that reminded him a little too much of Trelawney's old room as he watched people walk in with varying degrees of what was obviously mental trauma or just plain insanity.
First came Luna Lovegood. Really, Draco couldn't comment there. Did that girl get any more insane? He supposed that being kidnapped and held at Malfoy Manor hadn't done much for her. She was worn and thin, not at all like her usual eccentric and bubbly self.
Next, a woman walked in. Looking at her, he started up, a sound of shock escaping form his mouth. It was Andromeda Tonks, but her resemblance to Bella was uncanny. She turned to look at him after his sound of shock. Her own eyes widened by a fraction, but in the next second, she had turned to go sit by Luna.
A few more people entered that Draco didn't recognize. One was a small, balding man with reddish hair, escorting a woman who seemed very jittery. Draco thought he may have seen them at the Ministry before. Another was a girl of Draco's age, with long black hair that reached down to her waist and bangs that she repeatedly pushed out of her eyes.
The last two to walk in were two people Draco honestly wished he would never have to see again. It was Longbottom and Potter. They were talking amiably, and with a wave at Andromeda and Luna, they sat down nearby, continuing their conversation.
"All right, everyone, welcome. I'm Dr. Orion Cromwell, but you may call me Orion. I suggest we go in a circle and say our names. I want us all to be friends here." Draco rolled his eyes. This Cromwell guy sounded like a kindergarten teacher. Several other people were rolling their eyes as well, including Potter. However, they complied.
"Dr. Orion Cromwell."
"Charlotte Johannes. Call me Sherry" That was the dark haired girl.
"Luna Lovegood."
"Andromeda Tonks."
"Reginald Cattermole."
"Mary Cattermole."
"Harry Potter." The Cattermoles stared at him in obvious awe.
"Neville Longbottom."
Finally, it came to Draco. "Draco Malfoy," he drawled, looking supremely bored. Turning, he saw Potter whisper something to Longbottom, and they both turned to look at him, looking away hastily when they saw his contemptuous glare.
Draco dragged himself out of therapy one hour later. Orion had simply talked on and on about how memories could hurt sometimes, but it was important to let go, and how one could take hold of their future, take hold of their future, and Draco had wanted to pound Cromwell's stupid head into a wall.
What a waste of an hour, he thought. If it weren't for Mother, I wouldn't ever go back. He briefly stopped, thinking of Potter's accusatory eyes as he looked at him from across the room. Shaking his head to rid himself of these thoughts, he moved forward to his Apparition point. Stupid Potter could just go die.
He jumped as someone (or something, he thought furtively) went hurtling past him, crashing seconds later into the wall of the therapy house. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to see the remains of a broom. As Draco stood staring at it, Potter went rushing by him.
"Sorry about that!" he called over his shoulder. He stopped by the debris and shook his head remorsefully. Turning, he saw Draco and stiffened. He obviously hadn't realized who he was apologizing to.
Draco gave him a cold look that seemed to ooze contempt. Turning sharply on his heel, he continued on his way only to be stopped by a shout from Potter behind him. In annoyance, he swirled around to see Potter only inches from his face. In surprise, he took a step back.
"Can I help you?" There, perfect. Just the right amount of cool unconcerned-ness with just a hint of disdain. Draco gave himself a quick congratulatory pat on the back before raising an eyebrow at Potter, waiting for an answer.
"What are you doing here?" Blunt, rude, just like Potter. Draco huffed in annoyance. "I don't see how that is any concern of yours." Inwardly, he fumed. How dare Potter question him as though he were the bloody Minister of Magic himself? Though to be fair, said Minister was in Potter's pocket, after all, Draco reflected. He winced upon thinking of how much larger Potter's ego would be now.
"Answer the bloody question, Malfoy." Draco considered. Should he answer? On one hand, it would be awfully demeaning to do so. On the other, he doubted Potter would leave him alone until he gave a satisfactory answer. He sighed. Best comply, then.
"What do you think I'm doing here? The same thing as you, I presume."
"You're up to something, I know it. You can't trick me." How immature.
"How clever of you," Draco drawled, yawning delicately. "Well, now that you have oh-so-brilliantly detected and duly foiled my evil and cunning scheme, I'm going to go back home and think up some more ways to outwit the lovely Golden Boy."
Potter turned an interesting shade of purple. "You may think you can talk your way out of this, Malfoy. But don't think you can get away with anything. I'll be watching you. You're nothing but a sneaky, conniving little ferret." He stomped off.
Draco cringed. That brought up some bad memories of fourth year that he just didn't want to go into. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you liked following me around, Potter!" he called to Potter's retreating back. "Stalking me the way you do." Satisfied upon getting the last word in, he Apparated with a crack.
Later he ranted to Narcissa about the incident. "Can you believe the gall of him, Mother?" he demanded, paving about the living room of Malfoy Manor. He told me, told me, that I was up to no good! I think I'd know that for myself, don't you? Not to mention the way he's always following me around, damn annoying, if you ask me! Sixth year, he wouldn't leave me alone! Followed me into a bathroom, that's just bordering on creepy!"
Narcissa bit her lip to hide a smile. "Draco, my dear, please calm down. You yourself said that Potter's opinion doesn't mean anything to you. The production you're putting on would suggest otherwise."
"Mother, you simply don't understand! Potter is just infuriating…he…agh!" Lost for words, Draco let out a frustrated noise and threw his hands into the air, collapsing onto a nearby couch.
"Well, never mind that, Draco. The point is, did the therapy group have anything useful?" Narcissa felt that given the chance, Draco would merely rant for hours about Potter, it was best to cut him off and distract him before he could do so.
Draco snorted. "As if. Mother, it was absolutely awful. Cromwell merely went on and on about taking hold of our future." Narcissa's attempt to smother a laugh didn't go quite unnoticed this time. Draco narrowed his eyes and glared pointedly at her.
"How can you laugh at a time like this? It's bloody awful. He sat there with his eyes going all round and asked us to think about what we wanted to do with our lives. And to top it off, he talked about how we all had inner power just waiting to be released! It was like a bloody inspirational message like they write on the corners of napkins at Madame Puddifoot's!"
Narcissa smirked. "How do you know what they write on those napkins? I seem to recall you telling me once, quite firmly, too, that you would 'never deign to step into an establishment so pink and frivolous as that'?" Draco flushed to about the same shade of pink as the tablecloths at Madame Puddifoot's. He shifted uncomfortably and muttered something about Pansy and bloody girls with their bloody romantic notions.
Narcissa's smirk widened. "You went in there with Pansy?" Draco scowled. "She dragged me! I had no other choice! You know how she is when she wants something, Mother. That cow."
"Draco, don't talk about her like that. It's rude," Narcissa said, not being quite able to hide the twinkle in her eyes. "She can't help that she's a tad…" Narcissa trailed off, unsure of how to put it delicately.
"Pug-faced?" Draco offered helpfully. He grinned. "She has the whole school thinking we're together." Narcissa went into peals of laughter. "You and…her? You've got to be kidding me," she choked out between chuckles.
Laughing as well, Draco stood. "I should probably go. Zabini mentioned something about a surprise that he wanted to show me. It's probably another jeweled mirror or something equally frivolous, but I'd best go take a look."
Narcissa stood as well, sobering. "Yes, very well. I'll have Winky keep supper ready for you, shall I? And if it's another mirror," she added. "Tell Zabini from me that he's a vain pompous old prat. Honestly, the boy's worse than that Weasley child."
Draco smirked. "Which? There are too many of them to tell apart." Swatting him on the shoulder, Narcissa replied, "The one from the Ministry. I think his name is Percy or something equally poncy."
Rolling his eyes, Draco walked out of the room. Narcissa watched him until he was out of sight, and then leaned back onto the couch, sighing. "He may try to deceive me all he likes," she said aloud, to herself. "I'm his mother, though, and I can tell there's something wrong with him. Still," she said, standing up once more. "It's a good show he puts on." So saying, she exited the room, not noticing two large eyes that had widened upon hearing the words.
"Master Draco is still upset," Winky mused to herself. "Winky is needing to help him somehow."