Losing Pain

Chapter Eighteen

It had already been a week and Draco was suffering immensely. He couldn't sleep at all. Dark bags under his eyes contrasted with his slightly pale skin. He didn't have the energy to use magic of any sort. His hair was ten times worse than Harry's own messy hair, and his chin had a very noticeable amount of stubble. The apartment was already a mess of dirty dishes, empty firewhiskey bottles, and rotting food. Draco didn't notice any of it.

The only thing that Draco did notice was the pecking the owls made on the window when they had mail, but he only answered it because the pecking got on his nerves, which were being stressed by an owl that was currently pecking wildly.

"Why don't you just go away?" Draco grumbled as he opened the window and took the letter that was attached to the bird's foot. Instantly, the bird flew away, leaving Draco in peace once again.

Draco opened the letter as he walked back to the chair he had been sitting on. He took a swig from the half empty bottle of firewhiskey he had on a side table then started to read what was written on the piece of parchment.

Draco,

Your father and I haven't heard from you since Harry left to get help. We are both very worried. Please come visit us in the next few days. You can't keep yourself isolated from the rest of society until Harry comes back. It'll ruin you, and I know Harry would be devastated if he ever found out. If you don't come though, your father has personally decided to come to the apartment, and it won't be a very happy visit. You know how he is.

Love you dearly,

Mother

Once Draco finished reading it, he crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the empty fireplace. Grumbling, he drank the rest of his firewhiskey, stood up, went to his room, and packed a few of his clothes. Then, he left the apartment, never bothering to look at a mirror, and apparated to his family's manor.

***

Harry was having a good time at the hospital, but it was hard. Dr. Femmingway immediately had him in group therapy and decided to meet with him three times a week. Jenny made sure he was eating plenty of foods. Harry accepted it all gratefully, but it was hard.

The first time he took a bite of food, he had accidentally thrown it up instantly. Harry apologized immensely to the nurse who was watching him. Harry tried to eat another piece and this time it went down. He grinned. The nurse looked at him like he didn't belong.

Once in awhile, people would look at him differently. Other times he'd catch a snippet of a conversation between the nurses. Almost always it was about him and how they thought he didn't really have an eating disorder. Dr. Femmingway was the only person Harry believed could help him. Everyone else seemed to be deserting him, even Rachel the peppy nurse.

"How are you doing, Harry?" Dr. Femmingway asked like he did everyday Harry came in.

Harry sat down on the right side of the couch, took off his shoes, and laid his feet across the rest of the couch like he did at every session. "Things are getting better." Harry replied. "I haven't puked all day!"

Dr. Femmingway smiled and scribbled on the pad of paper he had in his hand. "That's really good, Harry. So, what's on your mind today?"

Harry knew every question and the order Dr. Femmingway asked them in by heart. It had only been a week, and he had only been to two sessions, but he knew it. "Well, I'm wondering how Draco's doing. I want to send him a letter, and I know I can, but I promised myself I wouldn't. Somehow I know that I wouldn't progress as easily if I did."

"Was Draco the reason you stopped eating?" Dr. Femmingway asked then scribbled some more on his pad.

Harry smiled. This wasn't one of the usual questions, but he had been waiting for the doctor to ask it the moment he met the man. "Partially." Harry explained. "At first I'd only skip meals to be with him. It was nothing out of the ordinary because Draco was doing it as well. But then, when I would sit down to eat, the food didn't look appetizing. At first I thought it was just some bug. When I'm sick, the sight of food makes me gag. But, as time went on I knew I was sick, just not with the simple flu."

"So, you noticed that your looks were changing and that you were getting weaker." Femmingway looked at Harry. Harry nodded and the doctor wrote down some more things.

"I tried to force myself to eat, but I couldn't. Then, when I explained to Draco about my problem, he tried helping me to. Still nothing was working, but somehow I was able to finally stop cutting. That's how I ended up here." Harry finished.

"You never told me that you've cut yourself before." Dr. Femmingway said.

Harry simply nodded. "I started a few weeks into school when I was sixteen. At first the cuts were deep. I couldn't take anymore pain from remembering my godfather's death. After awhile I got better and by the next school year I was only cutting when I was either annoyed or angry. But, after a little incident in class one day, I was practically itching to cut my skin. Right before I reached the usual room I used to hide away, I literally ran into Draco." Harry laughed a little as he remembered the time. "Draco and I were still enemies at that time, but both of us weren't as bad to each other as we had been our first year together. After we went our separate ways, I went to cut. I bled out to much and passed out as I walked down some stairs. Draco had been the one to find me and stayed with me every night in our school's infirmary."

When Harry finished, he saw that Dr. Femmingway was quickly writing down as much as he could. Harry wanted to laugh at how concentrated the man looked. His face resembled one that you would usually see on someone who was constipated. "Are you alright, Doctor?" Harry decided to ask.

Femmingway paused to look at Harry. "Well, usually patients don't tend to say so much in one sitting. You however are a very open patient."

"I think it's because I've already been not so willing when Draco asked. Somehow I feel it's simpler to repeat it." Harry told him. "Doctor Femmingway, may I ask you a question?"

Femmingway looked surprised but he smiled and nodded. "Go ahead. I'll see if I have the answer."

"I'm just wondering if I really should be here. Everyone else here seems to think that I don't have an eating disorder, even the nurses. I almost want to say that they think I'm faking everything."

Dr. Femmingway shook his head. "You should be here, and I'm glad you did. Of course, you are different than most that come here. Usually, they don't seem to be happy during their first week here. You, however, have such a positive attitude that everyone is unsure about you."

"People don't like me because I'm acting differently than they think I should?" Harry asked.

Femmingway smiled. "Precisely."

Harry rolled his eyes in disgust. Everything was starting to remind him of his years at Hogwarts.

A/N: I have changed the ending a little bit because of some new knowledge. As always, thank you for reading!