…And if the wizard in question is petitioned for in three years time and those conditions are met and he receives early release, the following terms of parole are to be upheld:

The wizard must follow all laws of Wizarding Britain and maintain the peace;

The wizard must remain within Wizarding Britain at all times;

The wizard will be monitored through a Trace on his wand;

The wizard will not consume any recreational, mind-altering potions;

The wizard will repay society by;

(a)Financial restitution

(b)Community service

The wizard will submit himself to by-weekly rehabilitation sessions;

The wizard will receive no independent financial status during his two years under sponsorship;

The wizard will have no access to any family wealth;

The wizard cannot associate with any Death Eaters, or anyone associated with Death Eaters;

The wizard will have no access to:

(a)Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

(b)St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

(c)Azkaban Prison

(d)The Ministry for Magic (without an appointment)

The wizard cannot reapply for his Apparation license

And if the wizard is found to have broken the conditions of his parole, he will be returned to Azkaban prison to resume his sentence, as well as any additional time necessary based on the severity of the infraction.

Thinking back on it now, Draco wondered why his lawyers hadn't challenged some of the more ridiculous conditions.

No access to St. Mungo's? So what, I'm to die in the streets?

Clearly the constitutionality of the conditions – or the complete lack thereof – was overshadowed by the unlikelihood that Draco would have use for them. Granger had said they were challenging some of them, so hopefully Draco wouldn't find himself dying on the streets of London any time soon, but still.

Can this just be over already?

Draco winced as another rib cracked and slipped into place, guided magically by the decrepit looking old healer Potter had walked in earlier that day, a man who immediately softened in his features and even spoke jovially after Draco answered his questions about Azkaban conditions with heavy sarcasm and a bit of dry wit.

"Well now, that's the end of that. Drink this when I leave and again two hours later and you'll be good as new by bedtime."

Draco nodded as yet another potion to fix his broken body was put on the bedside table, between the VitaMix and muscle replenishers.

"Until then, keep that wrist wrapped and jogging to a minimal," joked the healer.

Draco could only nod. The healer then went on to wave his wand, sending a blue light to Draco's stomach, not for the first time, and nodding at the results. Draco just sat there, silent, sloshing around the disgusting mixture he was forced to keep in his mouth for the past half an hour.

"Yes, yes… Almost time to spit that out. It's uncomfortable, I know, but your teeth are better off for it."

Draco nodded again, although his patience was wearing a bit thin. He'd been living with Potter for only one full day and already he'd been made to feel pathetic and broken, even if the goal was the opposite.

"Okay, spit."

Draco took the cup offered to him and spat the thick, disgusting pink slime out of his mouth. He traded it with the healer, who handed him a glass of water to rinse his mouth out with. Draco took it and walked to the washroom, gargling the nasty taste out of his mouth.

Inspecting his teeth revealed the damage and discoloration from years in prison were fixed, even the top left tooth that was chipped a year ago had mended itself. Better though was that gargling the cold water hadn't hurt at all. No more sensitive teeth.

"So I spoke with Mr. Potter on my way in and he said that between you and Ms. Granger, any potions you need can be made here, so I wrote a small list. I also trust that between the three of you, you can remember to take them on schedule. Do you have any questions?"

"How much do Potter and Granger know about what happened to me?" Draco asked immediately. He would prefer the answer be little to nothing.

"Only as much as they could see and guess. Your potion regime is pretty standard post-incarceration fare, between rebuilding your muscle and the like and making sure you didn't catch anything more problematic. Why, do you not want them to?"

Draco nodded, and the healer accepted immediately.

"Whatever brings you solace. Take care, Mr. Malfoy. I'm easy enough to get a hold of if something goes wrong."

The doctor packed up his bag and showed himself out, leaving Draco to resume his spot on the bed and examining the myriad potions waiting for him. Regrowing muscles, patching broken bones and a sprained wrist that were rebroken in order to set, bruise paste for a stubborn welt on his leg that refused to go away, sleeping drought to correct his sleep cycles, six different vials of VitaMix to address several deficiencies, and all of this after Draco had already consumed damn near a vat of different things to make sure he didn't have anything shameful in him like tapeworms, cholera, malaria or something else equally awful like scurvy.

On the bright side, the healer had managed to magic away most of the damage to Draco's back and legs, which coupled with the dreamless sleep meant that Draco might get to sleep in his actual bed instead of on the chaise by the window.

Draco hadn't been alone yet two minutes when a sudden knock took him out of his thoughts. Granger waited a minute before letting herself in, carrying a garment bag over one shoulder and a half dozen other bags in her spare hand.

"Oh, Healer Levi is already gone? That's a shame, he was going to leave me a vial of his tooth repair potion. It's really quite impressive and I've yet to examine it."

Draco couldn't see what was impressive about it at all, having grown up being told to take a potion because it will fix everything and coming to accept that, but maybe the muggle-born was still struggling to accept that.

"So I may have gotten everything on your list and then some, just in case. I also took the liberty of adding some muggle clothes in case you trip and hit your head."

Draco snorted but said nothing more than that.

He expected it would be difficult to get over a lifetime of in-bred aversions but even without a proper protocol for how to treat someone who springs you out of prison, he could guess not degrading her heritage would be a start.

Bet Father's thrashing in his prison cell as we speak.

Draco followed her in, inspecting what she had grabbed for him. All he had put on the list she'd asked for was pants, shirts, underthings, and a pair of shoes and when she walked in with so few bags he figured that was what he got. He was going to be living here for two years and unable to earn a single cent for himself, so he wasn't about to burn out their charity early.

Clearly she had shrunk most of it down and only carried around two or three bags for posterity's sake.

"You've got everything a man could need and then some, and of course once you're more comfortable we'll head out and you can expand on this," Hermione said, examining her work for any gaps. Seeing none, she turned and looked at Draco, who had an indescribable expression.

"What?"

He coughed into his hand before gesturing around.

"Don't you think you might have overdone it there, Granger?"

She smiled softly and shrugged, turning back to the fruits of her labor and seeing nothing wrong with it.

"You may or may not use any or all of it, and if two years from now you leave this all behind and never come back then some charity is going to be extremely lucky."

Draco rolled his eyes and stepped out of the closet, Granger following him.

"And since you brought it up, I don't expect you to start at it right away but someday I hope you might consider calling me by my actual name. I'm rather a fan of it."

Draco smirked at that, not remembering once in their shared childhood her ever defending her mouthful for a first name. He also couldn't imagine the same thirteen year old girl who broke his nose asking him to refer to her more personally.

"Now, I'm off to make some tea. Join me?"

Draco lost his smirk at the offer, truly torn. He and Granger and Potter had celebrated his release last night with a very simple soup, to go easy on Draco's stomach until the doctor could see him, but otherwise Draco had stayed in his room. He had showered twice and bathed once, but with his 36 or so hours of freedom so far he hadn't done much else.

"It's just tea, Draco. Or it can be wine. Whatever stops you from letting this room become your new prison."

And with that, she left the room and Draco to his decision.

Bloody witch! How can someone go from being so god damn agreeable and in an instant be such an infuriating, know-it-all, insufferable witch...

Still grumbling, Draco grabbed the dilute skelegrow potion off the nightstand and left the room, following her.

Author's note: Thank you all for reading this! I really never anticipated having more than three or four readers on my first foray back into fiction writing and your support has been overwhelming and amazing :) the next two chapters are pretty plot heavy but then there's room for some fluff/good feels, so if there are any healing!Draco tropes you want to see, drop me a note (on here or tumblr) and maybe they'll get in.