Hey, guys! I'm gonna be super busy again tomorrow, so rather than miss another update day, I'm gonna update tonight. Hope you enjoyE

Disclaimer: I own nothing, though there is an OC named Anthea.

Chapter Forty-seven

I jolted awake as a knock sounded at my door. I was covered in a cold sweat, and my throat stung as I swallowed. I must have screamed last night.

The knock came again. "Hey, Malfoy. You up? Don't wanna be late on the first day of the term," a deep voice reminded.

I was about to respond when I remembered the silencing charm I placed on my room. I took my wand and dispelled the charm. "Yeah. I'm coming," I answered, wincing at my scratchy throat.

I got dressed quickly, grabbed my schedule and a map of the school and the books I would need for the day, stuffing them in a backpack. I swung the bag over my shoulder and came out of my room, closing the door behind me. The other five boys were already eating breakfast.

"Morning!" Shaun called, waving me over to the table. "You slept in."

"Not really if you consider that I fell asleep at two AM," I returned taking a seat at the table.

"Ugh. I know what you mean," Shaun agreed.

The truth was that I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, but the rest was fitful, and I woke up repeatedly, shaking from the nightmares. I don't know why I still have nightmares about Lucius. The last time he had hurt me was almost a year ago. Shouldn't I be dreaming of The Battle of Hogwarts or Voldemort? I should be having nightmares about the people who were slaughtered in the war. Not my own torture.

The first day of term was more rigorous than I thought it would be. It wasn't like Hogwarts where you could sit back and let everything fade away as the professors babbled about what the class would entail. Here, they gave you a sheet of parchment, told you to study it and dived directly into instruction.

It was difficult work. I learned about new spells and potions; and though I had to work with a partner in Potions, I managed to focus enough to produce the potion I needed to. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to pass.

I went back to the dorm at the end of the day, exhausted and with a pound of homework due the next morning. By the time I finished it, it was already ten at night. I grabbed something small and quick for dinner and fell into bed.

The next several weeks had the same pattern of classes and homework. The work gradually required more and more skill, and it built on the past lessons, making it more difficult. The homework load increased, and I grew quickly accustomed to the lack of sleep. The other boys complained about how exhausted they were, and I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying that they had no clue what true exhaustion was.

I had only been in medical school for a month and I've already had two tests and an essay, but luckily, after those were done with, the workload lightened a little. The professors seemed to be nice people, and my Potions professor was extraordinarily casual. After a unit test, she said that she had no lesson plans. She told us to read a chapter in the textbook, and most students interpreted that as her giving us a free period.

I sat alone at a table and read the chapter, glad to avoid the other students. Everyone I've met in this school looked at me like I was either the greatest thing they've ever seen or like they wanted to kill me. It was tremendously confusing.

A bright light flashed in front of me, and my hand instinctively flew to my wand. I glanced up from the book and found a boy slightly older than I standing in front of me with a camera in his hands.

It was just the flash of the camera's bulb. It wasn't a spell sent to kill or torture me.

"You're Draco Malfoy," the boy stated.

Here we go. "Yep," I sighed, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.

"I'm Colin," he announced. "I work for the school paper."

Colin?

An image of Colin Creevey flashed in my mind. His shredded tie and shattered camera. The camera in my memory, and the camera in the boy's hands suddenly looked too similar.

"I wanted to ask you a few questions. I asked your professor, and she's okay with it," the boy asked.

"Okay," I sighed, resisting the urge to groan and walk out.

"Thanks!" he shouted, placing the camera down on the table and pulling out a pad of paper and fountain pen. "How did you, a former Death Eater, first discover that you wanted to be a Healer?"

"Gonna stop you right there." I got to my feet and closed the textbook. "I'm not a former Death Eater. I never was one. I've been answering these same questions since the Battle of Hogwarts began, and I'm a little over it," I snapped.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice shaking as he lowered the pen and paper. "That's fine. You don't have to answer. I'm just trying to get the facts and disprove any rumors. I also came to give you this." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small piece of parchment.

The boy held the parchment out to me, and I took it, unfolding it. It was a note from the school's authority asking me to come to the his office.

"Do you know why you're summoned to the Headmaster's office?" the reporter wondered, raising the pad of paper again.

"No," I answered taking my book and walking away from him.

I glanced at the professor and held out the note. She looked up from her paperwork and nodded. I left the classroom and made my way to the Headmaster's office and knocked on the door.

The door flung open on it's on accord, revealing a large, round room that reminded me of Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster sat behind his desk, talking with a woman who had her back to me. He looked up and rose from his chair. "I should take my leave, then."

The Headmaster walked passed me and out the door, closing it behind him. The woman turned around, and I instantly recognized her as Anthea.

My chest tightened, and my throat thickened at the sight of her. I simultaneously wanted to run out of the office and stay right where I was.

"I'm sorry I didn't contact you sooner," Anthea apologized taking a few steps closer to me. "I wanted to give you a minute to decide if you wanted to see me. If you don't, that's fine. You can walk out if you want."

I didn't say anything. I was still debating that same question.

"Guess I'll talk, then." Anthea came closer until she was only a few feet from me. "The reason we officially met was because I went into your cell. On my own. No one told me to. You going hypothermic was not planned or anything. After I left your cell that first time, one of my superiors saw me come out and dragged me off. We're not supposed to interfere with anyone in Azkaban beyond bringing them their meals and taking them to interrogation or visiting rooms or something. We're not supposed to go in their cells at all. Meaning that, according to my job description, I should have let you die.

My boss threatened to not only fire me but to strip me of my Auror status and brand me as a Death Eater sympathiser. I managed to talk him down and let me stay by saying that I could convince you to talk. And when you finally said why you have that Mark, I won their trust and was given a little leeway.

I got you that blanket because I didn't want you to freeze again, but I told them that it was to win your trust. I dated you because I wanted to, though I told them that it was keeping an eye on you. After a while, they were satisfied and told me to break off our relationship so you wouldn't suspect anything.

When you said you trusted me, I felt so guilty. I did exactly as I was told: get you to trust me enough to talk. The only problem was that I'd have to break your heart in the end, and after your trial, the Aurors who were there talked about your memories. They didn't say much, but they said that you were tortured into being a Death Eater. I chose to tell you rather than break it off because I didn't want to hurt you any more than you already have been. I risked my job for that. The Ministry still has no idea that I told you."

I stayed silent throughout her entire speech, taking it all in. I finally got to hear her side of the story. I wanted to stop being angry with her-and my anger did deflate a little at her explanation-but there was still the fact that she lied in the first place. I was tired of not hearing the full story, and I couldn't help but suspect that she was still lying.

"You have to understand that I didn't mean to hurt you," Anthea pleaded.

"Are you telling the truth this time?" I questioned.

"Yes," she breathed. "I swear to you I am."

I took a deep breath and led it out slowly, trying to shove down my anger. She told me her story, but he had broken my trust just like everyone else had.

"I understand if you're still angry with me," Anthea voiced, glancing down at her shoes. "Just know that if you ever need a friend...If you need to talk or just have someone to listen while you vent, send me an owl, and I'll come straight here."

Anthea closed the gap between us and held out a stiff hand, cautiously pulling me into a one-armed embrace that I didn't return.

"Good luck with school," she muttered walking out of the office.

Over the next few days, I replayed the conversation with Anthea over and over again in my mind. I searched for any inconsistencies but found nothing. I couldn't get her words out of my head. She sounded so genuine, but the thought of trusting her again made me nauseous. How could I trust her after she had lied to me like my parents and the rest of the Death Eaters had?

I was startled awake by another nightmare around two thirty in the morning. It was different than normal, but I wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. It wasn't about Lucius or the cellar. It was about the Battle of Hogwarts. The death and destruction in the dream was just how I remembered it in reality. The only difference was that Anthea was there. She was a Death Eater and fighting against me. I had to kill her.

How long would these nightmares last? The rest of my life?

When us students become Healers, we will have to learn to talk to people-calm them down after trauma and the like-so we have to take half a credit of psychology as a graduation requirement. I've almost completed the class, and I was glad to finally learn what caused my hand to shake. The Battle of Hogwarts, Death Eater training and what happened in the cellar must have left me with PTSD. These nightmares and the tremor in my hand were testament to that. Given time, both might disappear, but how long would I have to wait?

It was said that talking helps, but no one would understand unless I dived into detail that I never wanted to think about let alone talk about.

"Just know that if you ever need a friend...If you need to talk or just have someone to listen while you vent, send me an owl, and I'll come straight here."

When morning officially came, I went throughout my normal routine of classes, but when it was time for lunch, I slipped into the owlery and wrote and sealed a letter. I tied the note to an owl's leg and paid him in a crumb of bread. He screeched in thanks and fluttered out of the window.

I returned to my classes and ate dinner in the school's canteen at the end of the day. Two of my roommates caught up with me as I headed back to the dorm, and all three of us froze in surprise when the door swung open to reveal Anthea reading one of my medical books on the sofa.

She glanced up briefly and closed the book, tossing it on the coffee table. "It's official. I do not understand healing magic."

"Well, hey there," Shaun greeted, the look in his eye making me want to hit him.

"Hi. And though I'd love to chat, I'm here for Draco," she dismissed, gesturing to me. "There a private place we can go to talk?"

"Yeah," I muttered, indicating the door to my room.

"Cool," Anthea agreed, starting towards the door.

"Good on ya, mate," Shaun whispered as he playfully punched my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes as he quickly retreated into his room, giving me a wink as he closed the door.

I picked up my textbook from where Anthea dropped it on the table and entered my room, finding Anthea laying down on the bed. I closed the door behind me as she sat up.

"Honestly I'm surprised you contacted me so quickly," she said.

"I'm surprised you came so quickly," I returned. I placed my books on the desk and flipped the chair around to take a seat in front of her.

"It might not seem like it, but it's really easy to get someone to cover for you in Azkaban," Anthea informed. "There're three times as many guards as prisoners, and with the Dementors and magic we've got around the cells, there is zero way anyone can escape."

"Unless you're Sirius Black," I reminded.

"Or a Death Eater with a Dark Lord who can control Dementors on your side," she added.

The two of us fell quiet as I decided how to start. I had no clue how to talk to her when I first met her, and now it was worse. I didn't know if I could trust her, but I had to learn to stop second-guessing everything and everyone. I wasn't in the depths of Death Eater territory anymore. People weren't out to betray me. Or at least, that's what I told myself. It didn't help with the feeling of constant anxiety and the nightmares.

"So how's healing going?" Anthea wondered, finally breaking the silence.

"Good. Fine," I answered. "It's a lot of work, but I knew a bit more than other first year students did coming in, so that made it a bit easier."

"Had to pull any all-nighters yet?"

"One or two." I suppose here was as good of a place to start as any. "I overhear all of the other students complain about how tired they are, and I have to practically bite my tongue to keep me from proving them wrong."

"What do you mean 'prove them wrong'?" Anthea asked.

My hand started to shake as I thought about it, but as Harry, Ron and Hermione kept telling me, I had to get it out somehow. "I was just always so anxious when I was living with the Death Eaters and my parents that I couldn't ever sleep," I muttered. "I'd go for weeks with only three hours."

Anthea nodded. "Must've been hard."

"Yeah," I sighed, glancing down at my hand. "Then I had Death Eater meetings the next morning, too, so that made it worse."

"And how did those go?" she wondered, a nervous and slightly disgusted expression spreading across face.

"Honestly, they were stressful but not much happened. Only one person died in all the meetings I had to go to, and Voldemort's snake ate her."

Anthea tensed and raised an eyebrow, shock colouring her features."Well, that's…"

"Disgusting," I finished. "In more ways than one."

Bile rose in my throat as I remembered the snake swallowing Charity Burbage whole. I had to put a hand in my mouth and clear my throat to keep it inside.

"I have no words for that," Anthea said, getting up from the bed and kneeling in front of me. "But I appreciate that you're willing to talk about it with me."

I still had that thorn of doubt nagging in the back of my mind, but it was nice to have her here. I didn't have to keep it in my head anymore. Reading a single word or phrase in one of my textbooks could inexplicably send me down memory lane, and without Harry, Ron or Hermione here, I was entirely alone.

Anthea smiled and checked her watch. She looked back up at me and opened her mouth, but I cut her off. "Let me guess. You have to go back to work if you want to get paid."

She snorted as she laughed. "Yeah. Exactly."

She got up and left my room, looking back at me briefly. After a moment the front door to my dorm clicked closed, and I was left alone, but this time, the fact didn't make my heart as heavy as it had in the past.

Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you soon for Chapter 48!