Draco's first day in the auror department went curiously well. His desk was garbage free and the two other auror's that shared Harry's – and now their—office were out of town, so Draco didn't have to meet them for another week. They mostly worked on paperwork and spent some time in the training area, Draco going through drills to give Tonks a general idea of his abilities.

He was definitely no auror yet, good and proper, but she looked more than pleased with herself when she told him "Go shower baby cousin, you're starting to smell."

Draco spent the next day on the job with Hermione, who took them to muggle London, or so Draco thought until they walked down Whitehall road and into a large marble building filled with goblins.

"Gringotts was rather ruined during the war," Hermione murmured, her cheeks lightly tinted, "so they opened up a temporary branch here, just a few doors down from the Ministry. The main branch is fully repaired again, but they kept this one open to expand their business coverage, investment banking, what have you."

Draco nodded and watched as the goblins, already usually brusque, were downright rude with Hermione as they directed them to a set of vaults they wanted additional warding added to. Draco was, as far as he knew, just there to learn for now. He was surprised when Hermione asked for his input and let him test what she had put up.

"You'll get good at this Draco, don't worry," Hermione promised, his eyes betraying that she knew something she wasn't saying, but Draco missed it as one of the goblins came back to direct them to the next set of vaults.

So, by Thursday morning, Draco had no clue what to expect. He dressed in regular robes and met with his roommates in the kitchen. Harry gave him a grimace of a smile as he poured his coffee into a travel mug and exited the room. Draco turned to Hermione with a questioning look and found her scowling after her best friend.

"Chicken."

He smirked and poured a coffee for himself, trying to hide how unsettled he was by Harry's quick exit. What could possibly be the matter already? He took a seat next to Hermione, who was not wearing robes today but rather a light blue dress and her hair in soft curls. Draco hated to admit it, imagining his 13 year old self with a face of utter revulsion, but Hermione had definitely grown into herself. She was beautiful but he'd eat knives sooner than tell her that though.

"The Wizengamot has decided who your Mind Healer will be as per your rehabilitation conditions," Hermione began, her tone measured. She continued speaking when it seemed Draco was about to argue, "We had planned to arrange this on our end but they beat us to it, it's just that simple."

Draco harrumphed and crossed his arms in protest but said nothing. He already knew he was going to have to talk to someone, Hermione had made that point abundantly clear when she argued he didn't need any help after the War and Azkaban. She had really torn him a new one and it was technically their first big fight but neither had said anything actually cruel to the other, so Draco dreaded when that 'first' would happen. He imagined it was only a matter of time.

"Fine, where do I go?" He asked petulantly, not angry with her but the situation. She seemed to be able to understand that and relaxed minutely, handing him the note that had been sent through the mail.

"You have to go to Ministry administration services to get the floo address. You can go straight from there. Apparently your first appointment is today at 1 p.m."

Draco nodded and with his coffee in one hand and the note in the other, he retreated to his room to come to terms with the fact that his day would be spent with some psycho shrink trying to make him have feelings and talk about his father.

. . . . .

He stepped out of the fireplace and at 12:55 in the afternoon found himself in a well lit waiting room. A young man was sitting at the desk directly in front of him and smiled when their eyes met.

"Mr. Malfoy, you can take a seat. The healer will be ready for you shortly, but in the meantime can I get you a water or tea?"

Draco nodded and asked for a water, taking a seat by the generously sized window and settling in. Already this wasn't at all what he was expecting from the Ministry, imagining their preference would be to send him to some dank dungeon or even maybe to a muggle to try and unsettle him. Instead he got yellow walls and plush blue couches for seating and a wide selection of reading material along the walls.

He sifted through magazines on the table to his side, thanking the receptionist when he brought over a glass of cool water, and settled on a dated issue of Which Witch. The cover story and ultimately half of the magazine itself was dedicated to the sordid break up between Harry and the youngest Weasley, with so much embellishment that Draco could hardly guess where the fiction began and (hopefully) ended.

"Alright Mr. Malfoy, you can head in," he was told about ten pages in to an old issue of Potions Monthly. He considered shoving the magazine in his pocket to finish but figured if he was to return here every week for the foreseeable future that he would want to have some future reading material, and so left it behind.

Mentally preparing himself for whatever was on the other side of the now open door, Draco walked in and looked around.

He couldn't have properly prepared himself to face Luna Lovegood.

No, anyone but her!

"You know, I think the Wizengamot chose me to be your Mind Healer because they knew I'd been tortured in your home. I think they figured who better to dole out more psychological trauma than a professional who you had personally tortured? What I don't think they had anticipated was that facing me would hurt you more than anything I could have done," Luna Lovegood said from her spot behind his desk, a serene smile on her face that Draco remembered from the early days of her incarceration in his home and continued to be haunted by.

Draco couldn't hear anything she said though as the memories of torturing her and others rushed back, crashing through his brain and ricocheting around, leaving him nauseous and disoriented. He could smell the blood again, feel the tremor of his hand as he unleashed spell after spell on mangled bodies. The almost imperceptible sound of ripping skin echoed through his body, making him shake as he felt his own torture, physical and magical, ghosting across every inch of skin.

Luna unfurled her legs and got up from her seat, bare foot and as short as he remembered but her hair was all wrong, and approached Draco. He shrank back, stunned silent by the sight of her and so afraid of hurting her again – of being hurt again – but she took his hand all the same and pulled him over to the over sized plush sofa beside her desk.

"I'm sorry that seeing me is causing you so much pain, but I really do plan to help you. Hermione helped me, after all, years ago."

Luna let go of Draco and turned back to her desk, pouring tea from a pot Draco hadn't noticed into cups he couldn't see. She turned again and put one in his hand and he couldn't feel any heat from it, although somewhere in his mind the logical voice said it must be hot because he could see the tendrils of heat rise up.

He felt nothing.

"I went over to the flat she shared with Ron because she had a book on Central American tropical rainforests that she offered to loan me," Luna began explaining, kneeling down in front of Draco to watch his face as she did, "I have no idea what set me off but I collapsed in her home, unable to feel anything, crying and screaming. I blacked it all out and only know it happened because I woke up on her couch several hours later, tucked under a blanket with my head on her lap while she read me a book."

Draco should have been paying more attention but he got caught at the mention of a blanket and a small part of him – a part that wanted to wake up from this drowning feeling to being protected – wondered if it was the same blanket in his room.

Probably not.

"She explained that while magic can mend bones in a heartbeat, we don't really have anything to cure trauma. She had really bad nightmares after the war and went to see a muggle mind healer and asked if I would consider seeing one too. She looked so scared for me, so I went."

She paused and examined Draco, who continued to sit there completely still but at least he was listening. She leaned forward and guided his right hand holding the cup up to his lips, and tipped it back ever so slightly so he could sip. It burned but he remained quiet.

"I submitted myself to someplace that could help and stayed there for six months. I learned early on that helping yourself is easier done helping others, so after I left, I took on an apprenticeship with St. Mungo's and in the evenings I took classes at a Muggle university. I graduated this past summer, and you're my seventh patient."

Draco didn't know what to say to that so he said nothing, but Luna seemed to be okay with that. She stood back up and returned to her seat behind her desk and drank her tea, watching Draco but not waiting for him to do anything in particular. While it probably unnerved others, Draco was calmed by it.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you. I hope you know I never wanted any of it."

Draco had to say it, even if it came out as barely a whisper. He was grateful Luna let him. Maybe she needed to hear it too, because she closed her eyes as he spoke and really thought about what she said before replying.

"I understand, and I accept."

For the next twenty minutes they said nothing and drank their tea.