Chapter 20
Under Pressure
Summary: Draco "deals" with his disastrous meeting with his solicitor and all the fall out when everyone else finds out. Cordelia lends her aid. And Blaise's spy contacts him.
Beginning Note: Song of the Chapter is "Under Pressure" by Queen, David Bowie
With his head in his hands, Draco sat alone on the couch in the Head's Dorm common area. Thoughts of death kept crossing his mind. The thought of throwing himself from the balcony kept playing on repeat in his head, that would be an easy enough way to put himself out of his misery from the impending doom and the cursed life to follow. No more Draco meant no trial would happen and thus he wouldn't have to spend the next two decades rotting away in his mind and body in Azkaban. He remembered when Lucius had come out of Azkaban after just a few months, an absolute wreck. Draco had no illusions of what he'd be like after even five years in that hell hole. His father was an absolute piece of shite, but he was a much more stoic and controlled man than Draco could ever hope to be. Or want to be for that matter.
There was no illusions, it would be better to be dead than an inmate in Azkaban, even after the ministry had made 'improvements,' the place was still hell on earth and not built for rehabilitation. Though, just as it had been at home when he didn't want his mother to find his broken body, he couldn't leave that burden to Theo, Hermione, or Pansy. Just the thought of what finding his broken and deceased body would do to them had Draco sobbing into his hands even harder than he already had been.
It seemed, no matter what he did, that he had no way out. His freedom was on borrowed time and then he'd be taken from this sliver of happiness he'd found in this small dorm room just to be forced to rot in Azkaban. It didn't just seem hopeless — everything was hopeless.
It was ironic really, after years of tormenting the witch he'd been helpless falling for, he'd finally been able to express his desires for her. He'd finally gotten to be with Granger and, just like that, she was going to be taken away. So many nights he'd dreamt of exactly what he had now, ever since that first day when she'd appeared looking for Longbottom's toad on the Hogwarts Express, he'd been drawn to her and it had never made sense until now.
It wasn't just the sex either, everything about being with her was better than he'd ever imagined it could be. Talking and debating with her, receiving comfort from her, hell, even giving her comfort in return; everything with her fed his soul. Finally being able to have his relationship with Theo out in the open was amazing too. And Pansy…he didn't know how she'd forgiven him for what had happened under his roof, but she had and blamed him for nothing that had happened to her. Over the course of his entire life, he'd never done anything to deserve this much sheer joy; yet now when he'd finally found it, it was all going to be ripped from him.
Maybe that was fate, showing him what he was going to lose before taking it away. Letting him have a taste of the life he'd always wanted, just to throw him into a cold dark cell in Azkaban and end the Malfoy line as death slowly took him in that dank prison across the sea.
A knock at the door startled him from his thoughts and though the intruder on the other side went against his desire to be alone, Draco rose to see who it could possibly be and to tell them to shove off. Draco shook himself and vanished all traces of his tears, forcing his breathing under control, putting on his mask as he pulled the door open.
"Oi Malfoy," Finnegan greeted with a wide grin as the entrance swung open. He held up a wooden crate filled with bottles that rattled with the movement, "Is Theo here?"
Draco shook his head, unsure of his voice and terrified to occlude.
"Damn," Finnegan pushed past Draco, not waiting for an invitation to enter, and sat the crate on one of the side tables. "So, you see, I traded some spliffs to the Patil twins for this case of Butterbeer and I wanted to see if Theo would want to swap this for a bottle of firewhisky, I know he has a fair few bottles."
"You know what," Draco drawled, dropping down onto the couch and resting his arm along the back as if he didn't have a care in the world. "I'll do the trade for Theo."
The Irishman gave Draco a sceptical look, "Won't he get mad?"
Draco shrugged, "I doubt it, but if he does I'll let him give me a spanking and all will be forgiven."
With his concerns brushed aside, Finnigan grinned and nudged Draco with his elbow, "You're alright Malfoy, you know that?"
"Thanks Finnigan, er, I think," Draco responded, raising his eyebrow at his chuckling companion.
"Call me Seamus," the Gryffindor wizard said, smiling, "Dean and I are on a first name basis with Theo. I think if we are joking about your boyfriend's sexual proclivities then we should drop the use of surnames between us as well."
"Um, sure Seamus," Draco said, feeling the ache inside him. Finally making bloody friends on the right side and I'm off to fucking Azkaban next week. "You can take the unopened bottle that's sitting on the counter in the kitchenette. I'll guard the Butterbeer until everyone else gets back from dinner."
After Finnigan and the bottle of firewhisky had made their exit, Draco looked at the crate of Butterbeer. He considered backing out of the plan he'd made when he'd seen the crate in the doorway before, "Fuck it," he muttered to himself, cracking the first bottle open.
And with that, Draco Malfoy decided to get himself completely pissed.
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Theo, Pansy, and Hermione ambled up the stairs to the Head Dorm entrance, Theo whispered the new password as he was the first to the door, "quattuor amantes." The brunette wizard chuckled to himself, feeling quite clever, that was until he opened the door. To his and both witches' great surprise, they found the missing piece of their little foursome drunk and sprawled out on the couch. A muggle cigarette was tucked between his lips and numerous empty bottles of butterbeer were scattered on the floor surrounding Draco in the middle of the common room, the sticky sweet scent of the drink heavy in the air. Laying on his back, booted feet on the side of the couch, Draco blew a ring of smoke into the common room seemingly without a single care.
"What the fuck, Draco!" Pansy screeched after she came around Theo's side and saw the state of their common room. "You can't just lay around getting pissed and stinking up the place with muggle cigarettes! Not to mention if one of the probation Aurors popped in and saw you like this, that would be a strike against you in your case!"
"Hey Pans," the blonde slurred, ignoring (or not registering) her tone and everything that she'd just said. "Today's been the worst. The solicitor told me that I'm looking at five to twenty years, no hope for anything better, bloody figures. Didn't get any promises from Robards either, went through all that memory extraction for nothing. Wizengamot-appointed solicitor, don't even remember the chap's name. Lawton? Leyton? Lington? Doesn't matter, says I'm doomed. Doomed to live out a good portion of my life in prison."
Theo let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead in annoyance as he heard what the pissed drunk blonde was saying. "Why, pray tell, do you have a Wizengamot-appointed solicitor? You're telling me that you didn't hire someone yourself?" The irritation Theo felt slipped into his tone, but Draco was none the wiser.
"No point," Draco slurred, sucking a breath from the cigarette. "No one can fix this. My father's fucked me one final time." He pulled back the sleeve of his robes, exposing his scarred forearm, "getting this bloody mark, being in the fucking Dark Lord's service, going to die in that fucking prison. Going to go mad, then going to die, all alone."
Theo scoffed looking over at Hermione who hadn't made it past the door, but was trying to look around Theo to see Draco. "No point...are you fucking kidding me?" Theo scolded, as he turned to glare at Draco before he looked back at the little brunette and saw her body frozen. "I swear to all the four founders, Draco Malfoy, no bloody point!?" Theo practically shouted as he stormed towards the blonde.
Hermione's feet felt stuck, it was as though she had reverted to being ten and had come downstairs to find her mother drunk and upset. She couldn't stop herself from shrinking back behind Theo, was Draco going to start throwing things next? That's what her mother had done. The image of their house with the damage from a bottle of wine hurled at the wall was still burned into Hermione's mind as she watched Theo step forwards and begin to wrestle with Draco over the bottle of butterbeer in his hand.
Once all visions of her mother's explosive alcohol induced rage had faded, Hermione finally pushed her way into the room and her eyes fell on Draco. It was as if she was drawn by magnets, unable to look away as he argued with Theo, before his body began to sag. He was drunk and falling apart, a combination she'd never been privy to witness before. In fact, he'd never fully dropped his mask, always holding something back, and now she was seeing Draco at his most vulnerable for the first time.
Theo watched Hermione's slow and calculated steps into the room as she approached where he was standing, vanishing the contents of the remaining butterbeers. As she studied the scene before her, Theo hoped that Hermione appreciated what a privilege this was, as very few people had ever watched Draco drop his mask. Even when he was intoxicated, Draco always managed to pull himself together if someone he couldn't let in was around, but here in their shared dorm, Draco felt free enough to drop every veil. Theo turned away from Hermione to focus his efforts back on Draco, whose tears were rolling down his face. His lip was also bloody from either his own teeth or a bottle, and as the sobs tore through his body, Draco hiccupped and cried, his whole demeanour more like a small child than a man fully grown.
"Told me Potter was going to testify to my character, Potter!" Draco continued, telling the trio about his meeting with his solicitor. "What good could he possibly have to say? That I bullied him since we were firsties?" Draco let out a snort between sobs, "I'm going to Azkaban forever for sure. Finally get that father-son bonding that I always wanted. It will be so grand," he drawled, sobs tapering off again while taking another deep swig of a Butterbeer that Theo had missed.
Pansy rolled her eyes, not willing to entertain Draco's dramatics or indulge in this pity party with him any longer. "Theo, are there Sober-up potions in the room?"
"Top drawer, Pans." Pansy nodded and went to get it to put an end to Draco's very drunken pity party.
Theo walked over and crouched down so that he could help Draco sit up, "Do you need character witnesses, Drake?"
The sobs suddenly stopped as Draco harrumphed, "Ones without Death Eater connections and who matching that description would stand up for me? And I can't go to Pans' trial unless I want her to get a harsher sentence, what use am I?"
When Theo couldn't get Draco to move, Theo looked back at the witch who was still standing and watching in shock. "Hermione, can you help me please? I know it's disconcerting to see Draco such a mess, but I need a hand."
Hermione shook herself. "O-Of c-course," she stammered, rushing forward at once.
As she reached where Theo was struggling to get Draco into a fully upright position and take the final bottle from him, Draco leaned forward and ran his shaking fingers over her cheek. "It was fun while it lasted, Hermione." Draco exhaled, breathlessly. At the drunken confession and Draco's surprising use of Hermione's first name, Theo looked at Hermione's face and saw the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.
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Pansy brought two vials of sober-up and a pain relief vial. Hermione helped hold his shoulders upright as Pansy poured each of the vials into Draco's mouth, one right after the other. When the blonde man refused to swallow, Pansy held his nose to force the potions down his throat. Even as intoxicated as he was, Draco understood what they were giving him and he was recalcitrant about sobering up all of a sudden. Theo helped by holding his arms down after Draco began to flail and begging to stay drunk.
"Absolutely not, Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are going to take these potions and you are going to sober up. This is outside of enough." Pansy scolded, rubbing Draco's throat, finally getting him to swallow down the liquid. The blonde vociferously claimed that he couldn't cope with his imminent prison sentence, that he didn't want to have to occlude for years and turn into another Bellatrix, that he would rather die. But the potions were already taking effect and, in short order, he would be sober and only slightly hungover.
Hermione's lip was quivering and she turned her face away from the spectacle that Draco was making. It was hard to see him this way and even though she was glad to finally be let in, the sight was almost too much for her heart as it brought back similar moments between her mother and father from the darker side of her childhood that she'd always hidden.
After Draco had ingested all three vials, Pansy gathered all of the empty butter beer bottles and dropped them into the crate to carry into the kitchenette. She touched Hermione's forehead briefly on the way, trying to ease some of the discomfort that was etched across the little brunette witch's face.
The combined sobriety potions began to do their jobs, and Draco stopped struggling in Theo's grasp as the full weight of the events slammed into his newly sober mind. The blonde buried his face into the side of Theo's neck and, at once, he began to weep. The sobs shook his body, making him look more broken than she'd seen him since their sixth year.
Hermione stepped forward as she realised that Theo and Draco were whispering to one another. She didn't want to stay in the shadows, she wanted–no needed–to help Draco work through these emotions and thoughts raging inside him, and she couldn't very well do that if she stayed in the background.
"I don't want to go to Azkaban," she heard Draco chanting over and over.
"It's going to be okay." Theo soothed, his lips pressed into his hair. "I will make it be okay."
"Theo, not even you can control the Wizengamot."
At a complete loss for how she could fix what Draco was struggling with right this moment, Hermione thought that distraction might be the key to make Draco feel better. She thought about the way he had distracted her when she had been so close to ending it all, not knowing that this was possible. The best distraction tactic he could come up with was to start an argument with her and then run away, but now she knew all this was possible, so she had a much more pleasurable idea for how to distract him from his dark thoughts.
Hermione fell to her knees in front of Draco, her hands going straight to his trouser buttons. She fluttered her lashes as she looked up, meeting his molten gaze, she could feel the heat coming from him at her one simple movement, encouraging her to keep going. "Draco, let me make you feel better," she let the words purr out of her lips, making his breath catch and hers. Where did that sultry voice come from?
Draco sucked in air and looked down at her from Theo's embrace, his silver eyes wide, his pupils rapidly swallowing those impossibly colored irises. "Hermione you don't need to…" He trailed off, his voice sounding small and not convincing.
"But I want to," she insisted, her fingertips running over his abdomen, causing him to gasp.
Theo, quickly picking up where Hermione was leading this, ran his hands over Draco's chest before slipping from the couch and sinking down next to her. "Hm, I actually think this is a perfect idea, Dragon. Why don't you just lie back and let Hermione and I take care of everything. That is, if it's alright with you Hermione. I can help you suck Draco's cock yeah?"
Not trusting her voice, Hermione nodded, but the only response she got from the brunette wizard was a raised eyebrow. She cleared her throat, remembering that Theo needed affirmative consent, she choked out, "Y-yes of course."
Theo smiled at her and winked saucily. "That's a good girl," he praised, making her rub her thighs together. Gods, even when her only goal was to distract Draco and make him feel better, here was Theo still taking control of the situation and making her putty in his hands.
Without any more fanfare, Draco's trousers were tugged off his legs by four enthusiastic hands, revealing his beautiful cock, already growing hard under both of their touches. Theo slid Draco's boxers down his legs, tantalisingly tracing the curves and valleys of Draco's muscular thighs as he did so, making a moan slip from Draco's plump lips.
Once Draco's cock was fully revealed, Hermione bit her lip, trying to keep her own moan inside, and looked up at Draco and watched as his gaze flickered to her mouth and he grew even harder. Men were such simple creatures in many ways, even complicated ones like Draco Malfoy.
Leaning forward together, Theo and Hermione licked and stroked Draco. First Hermione's hands were on Draco's shaft and Theo had his mouth on the tip, lapping at the precum that had beaded there. Not able to hold back, Hermione turned her lips toward Theo, as they kissed each other with Draco's cock between their lips. Hermione let out a little hum of appreciation, enjoying the taste of Draco on Theo's tongue.
Pansy, hearing the noises coming from the common room, returned and smirked as she sat next to Draco, stroking his hair and kissing his neck as the other two focused on making him orgasm.
Theo nipped her lower lip and Hermione's groan vibrated against the cock between them. She tasted the copper from her blood and when she kissed her way down the side of Draco's shaft, a crimson trail was left behind. "Oh fuck," Draco muttered above them at the sight of Hermione's blood on his cock. She wouldn't have thought he would find that arousing, but it seemed to make him even harder.
Pansy's desperate inhale was followed by her knickers flying through the air, Theo caught them with one hand, barely taking his attention away from Draco's swollen length. The tip was purple and dripping precum. Pansy's knickers were damp in Theo's hand, her scent overwhelming to Hermione as he held them close to her face. Hermione looked up just in time to see Pansy sink two fingers inside herself with one hand while fondling Draco's nipples through his shirt with her other. Her long nails pinched and Draco's eyes rolled back in his head.
Theo gently stroked Draco's cock with Pansy's wet lacy knickers for a few moments while Hermione sat back on her ankles, a little stunned at just how turned on she was by the act. Then Theo tucked his treasure away in a back pocket of his denims before taking Draco's shaft all the way until Theo's nose was being tickled by the coarse white blonde hair that surrounded the base of Draco's cock. Not able to just watch any longer, Hermione moved back next to Theo, running her hands on Draco's thighs and cupping his sack.
Theo and Hermione's mouths ran up and down the sides of Draco's cock, open mouthed kisses that caused him to writhe; Draco had a hand on each of their necks, softly stroking as he moaned above them. Hermione met Theo's eyes, his pupils blown wide, and she knew that she had to look the same way, so full of lust and desire for the three people she was with.
Theo reached underneath where his mouth and Hermione's were dancing over Draco's smooth shaft and stroked Draco's perineum, causing the blonde to throw back his head as he gasped. Theo cast a quick anal cleansing charm and a lubrification charm. Hermione recognized them from the non-monogamy book's section on bedroom spells; Theo slid one finger inside Draco eliciting a throaty moan.
Realising that her own knickers were soaked, Hermione blushed, but began to kiss the insides of Draco's thighs as Theo's mouth worked above her and his hand worked below her. She touched every bit of his legs that she could reach, fondling his body, trying to show him adoration in every touch. He was so much more than she'd ever imagined and the thought of losing him was just not acceptable. He was so much more than the Slytherin Prince, the youngest Death Eater, or the son of Lucius Malfoy.
Draco was a complicated man that had to hide so much of himself, just because of who his father was. And his underlying pure soul deserved nothing less than all the happiness that the world had to offer.
Aware that earlier in the library he'd been showing her what he had just shared before Pansy had given him the SoberUp, that he believed that their time was almost done, she needed to show him how much she cared too. She wasn't letting him go without a fight.
Theo took Draco into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks as Draco began to thrust his hips, fucking Theo's face, chasing his orgasm. Hermione looked on with hooded eyes as Pansy made herself cum, moaning softly into Draco's neck as her thighs shook.
Laughing, Theo sat back on his haunches and grinned as he admitted, "That was so fucking hot. I came in my pants. Hermione, do you need an orgasm?" Hermione was unable to answer, transfixed at the small drop of Draco's cum at the corner of Theo's lips. Without any warning, she launched herself forwards and claimed his mouth with hers. Theo hummed contentedly when she pulled back and smiled at him.
"No," Hermione murmured, "I'm alright, but I won't complain if anyone wants to wake me up with one in the morning."
"That can be arranged," Theo kissed the tip of Hermione's nose with a fond smile, "come on my loves, let's head to bed." Theo helped a wobbly and well sated Draco up and Pansy swiftly followed, barely pulling her skirt down to cover her lack of knickers. Her arse proudly on display as she swayed her hips while she walked away.
Hermione couldn't help but allow her eyes to trace over Pansy's curves. Hermione's eyes watched the slick from Pansy's orgasm dripping down her porcelain thighs. Hermione let a little shiver run through her. Yes, an orgasm in the morning would be very much needed.
Once they were cleaned up and all tucked into bed, everyone found a way to make Draco the focus of all their touches. An arm outstretched across the pillows above Hermione, Pansy's long nails scratched his scalp and ran through his downy platinum hair. Hermione's head rested on Draco's chest, her arm wound around his waist. Theo had pulled Draco's back to his naked chest, his arm was holding Draco tightly. The desperation in all of their body language gave the lie to Hermione's belief that this was a casual thing.
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The morning sun hadn't even burst over the Scottish countryside; yet, Theo was already up and having his first smoke of the day and a nip of firewhiskey in the darkness before dawn. The atmosphere suited his current feelings. He was already fully dressed, a black turtleneck over his requisite band shirt, black denims, his boots on. He'd considered going for a walk around the Black Lake, but he really didn't want to see anyone this morning. He didn't even really want to see his lovers. He needed to avoid all distractions as it was imperative that he devise a plan to fix this absolute clusterfuck.
Salazar's beard, why hadn't Draco hired a real solicitor?
Theo had already summoned a castle elf with eight letters to the various solicitors that he had dealt with over these last months since he had become Lord Nott. One of them had to want his galleons and continued work with Nott Family interests. Theo was well aware that he (and his vaults) were extremely lucrative. If he didn't have at least two responses by the end of business today, he'd be shocked. He probably had a stack of documents to review about his own business from at least one of the practices that he had reached out to.
He pretended to be a brainless hedonist a lot of the time, because it made things easier. However, Theo was a businessman and a Lord of his Ancient and Noble House to boot. He hadn't become Head Boy because of his good looks.
Draco may have given up, but Theo Nott was just getting started. His guilt over not making sure that he had negotiated something specific from Robards in regards to the memories was also eating at him. He took another drag of his cigarette. A deep drink from his flask sent the familiar burning through his veins. The ninth letter had been to Robards in reference to that very matter. Theo would have floo called him, but he was sure that would have woken people, most likely including Robards. Theo knew that Robards felt guilt where he was concerned, for not solving his mother's murder, for not being able to save Theo from his monster of a father, for not being able to offer him the job as a trainee Curse Breaker that Theo wanted and was immensely over qualified for. Theodore Tiberius Nott was not above weaponising that guilt.
The tenth letter had been to Narcissa and had been the harshest by far. How in the bloody hell had she not stepped in and hired Draco a real solicitor. Theo was so angry with her. She'd always been the pinnacle of maternal devotion to him. How could she have failed her son so spectacularly? She was his substitute mother as well. How could she have failed him? Theo wouldn't survive without Draco, he already knew. He needed him like he needed air. He needed Pansy like he needed water. He needed Hermione like he needed food. He needed the four of them together. They could really be happy, if he could just keep everyone out of Azkaban and alive. Why did taking care of people you loved have to be so bloody difficult?
Theo could hear Hermione's soft moans emanating from his bedroom. He listened for a moment and considered joining them, but he sat down on one of the chairs on the balcony instead. He emptied his flask down his throat and wondered whether Pansy's solicitor needed a friendly reminder that, despite her shite family, she was not without friends.
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The tables in the great hall were reduced to four, meaning that every table had to be filled. The quad was joined by Blaise and Luna immediately with Dean and Seamus coming quickly behind them. Neville arrived shortly as well (he had been pushed out from sitting with Hannah whose table was full with a mix of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor girls). Their last seat remained empty, Theo shook his head at the realisation that Greg was the sole person that was still refusing to attend therapy and deal with the changes that the war had wrought, hiding in his dungeon lair.
As Theo continued to survey his table and watched the interactions between his friends, he noticed Draco wasn't eating. The blonde was just pushing his food around the plate aimlessly with his fork. Theo fought off the urge to shake the Malfoy heir in a Great Hall full of people who were definitely not their friends, instead he opted to lean into the boy.
"Draco, for Salazar's sake, please eat something, anything." Theo whispered into his ear, "I swear I will harass you louder and louder until you do. Don't fucking test me on this, I swear on Rowena Ravenclaw's left tit, I will make you regret it and not in a fun way."
Draco gulped nervously, his eyes widening. He took a tentative bite of some toast and jam. Theo nodded encouragingly, his mouth still tight and stern. He didn't take his eyes off Draco, not hiding that he was watching him carefully. Hermione and Pansy had stopped whispering to each other, watching their wizards' interaction. Theo did miss the looks that passed between Pansy, Hermione, and Luna when they noticed the way that Theo was forcing Draco to eat.
Blaise, for his part, kept the conversation flowing by discussing some amusing stories about his mother's rather intimidating house elf, who was part Goblin. Seamus, Neville, and Dean were suitably entertained at the hilarious and slightly horrifying tales of Frank, all at one point agreeing that they would never want to cross this particular elf. Pansy was mindlessly chewing on her fingernails, something she rarely allowed to happen in public, occasionally leaning into Hermione to whisper something, but her eyes never strayed from Draco once she'd started watching him. Luna was kicking a leg under the table so that it shook slightly, but everyone was ignoring it. Hermione had brought a book down with her this morning, but was still on the same page from when she started, her eyes constantly darting up to watch Theo or Draco, and then looking at Pansy or Luna.
The tension at the table was impossible to ignore and yet it seemed like the sea of students and staff that were in the Great Hall were unaware of the internal turmoil for the former Death Eater and War Heroes.
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Every day with Cordelia was the same general experience and the routine was good, because surprises when it came to these particular young adults were not welcomed. She'd wait for all her students to arrive, personally greeted them, welcomed them as a whole, before finally raising the privacy wards and began their group session. The ease in which they all found their seats and were willing to have their dark experiences and feelings explored wasn't lost on Draco. Cordelia had made her way into their heads, promising a safety and security that most of them had never experienced in their young lives. They surrendered to her and allowed her to guide them, even though they knew that it was going to hurt.
Cordelia's deep umber skin shone in the bright morning light and her green healer robes were immaculate as always. Today, her long black braids were in a bun and she had a green scarf tied artfully. The earthy tones made her feel open and welcoming and it really made all the difference when they were in group, because otherwise, none of them would ever want to open up about their trauma.
Draco considered sketching her this way and he started planning his quill strokes in his mind as he listened to her calm melodious voice. He needed to do some more art this week. He wanted to try to get a big painting done at least over the next week. He should have started sooner, but time seemed to have gotten away from him in more ways than one. Though, if he didn't do it soon, he might never be able to do it.
"I've noticed over the weeks of working with you," Cordelia said, looking around and making eye contact with everyone in her circle. "Many of you engage in something called negative self talk. Negative self-talk is any inner dialogue that could be limiting your ability to believe in yourself and your own abilities to reach your potential." Draco could feel himself reddening at this, because he knew that he was one of her students that did this. "Negative self-talk can cause us to miss out on opportunities and to limit our future possibilities. These negative internal monologues can further increase our stress. Other consequences of negative self-talk can include something called Limited Thinking. The more you tell yourself that you can't do something, the more you believe it. Our words, even when we don't say them aloud, create a lens through which we see the world. If we believe that there is no hope for us, we dismiss situations that can create hope. We ignore steps we need to take to improve our lives because we tell ourselves that we deserve suffering."
Theo snorted next to Draco and the blonde scowled in his lover's direction. Theo raised a single eyebrow that clearly said, tell me this doesn't apply to you. Regardless that it applied to him, he had his reasons for it. Working through negative self-talk was for people who didn't deserve it the way he did.
Theo had his bloody knickers in a twist over Draco not hiring his own solicitor, but there was no point in the waste of time in trying to secure someone to take on his case. He was going to Azkaban regardless of who represented him in front of the Wizengamot. He was the youngest Marked Death Eater, he'd let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, he'd hurt numerous people. He'd used unforgivables, hell he'd enslaved Rosmerta for the better part of a year with one. So what if, aside from the barmaid, he had mostly used the curses on other Death Eaters? It wasn't going to matter to the Wizengamot. Those spells were a one-way ticket to Azkaban.
"Another consequence is perfectionism. You begin to really believe that 'great' isn't as good as 'perfect,' and that perfection is actually attainable. It's okay to be high achieving as long as you are happy with a job well done. Don't pick it apart and try to zero in on what could have been better or how you could have been perfect. Perfect is impossible and, by dwelling on the need to reach such a level, will only lead to feelings of depression." At this, Draco snuck a glance at Granger, who's face had turned red and her hands were clasped in her lap. At least he wasn't the only one being called out so openly.
"Negative self-talk can also cause relationship challenges," the healer continued. "Constant self-criticism makes you seem needy and insecure to your partners. Your negative self-talk into more general negative habits that bother others, a lack of communication and even a 'playful' criticism can take a toll, especially in romantic and platonic relationships at your age. You live in each other's pockets, so when someone is negative and critical all the time it can be difficult to cope with. Especially if you love that person and think they are amazing. It can be hard to hear them tear themselves down, when you see so many good things about them."
Great, Draco thought to himself, so he's not only damaging himself, but he's also destroying those around him. He hadn't even considered how annoying he must be to Theo, Pans, and Granger and how tired they must be of him. How pathetic had he been last night? How had they put up with him? Good thing he's going to Azkaban where they wouldn't have to put up with him. The three of them will be better off without him, happier, freer from the burden that was his pathetic life.
Really, he was also a millstone around their necks and his presence in her life would ruin Pansy's chances for a favourable ruling. That said it all, didn't it?
"One of the most obvious drawbacks of negative self-talk is that it's not positive. This sounds simplistic, but research has shown that positive self-talk is a great predictor of success. Remember: Thoughts and Feelings Aren't Always Reality. Thinking negative things about yourself may feel like astute observations, but your thoughts and feelings regarding yourself should not always be considered accurate information. Your thoughts can be skewed like everyone else's, subject to biases, limited experience, and the luggage of your own trauma." Draco shifted in his seat, because it felt like she was looking into his head to dispute any thoughts he was having.
"Finally today, I want each of you to find affirmations that fit what you are struggling with and write in your journal about the one or ones that you chose. Once you have chosen your affirmation and written about it, I have parchment and art supplies. I want each of you to make a visual with your affirmation to hang in your sleeping space. You can just add colours to the quote if you like or illustrate it.
"Coming out of a negative self-talk episode can be hard. Our lack of self-worth in the moment won't allow us to believe the affirmations from people around us or ourselves. Positive self-talk is a crucial step in changing our patterns, but telling ourselves that we are the bee's knees might be too grandiose at the moment. It's okay to tone down your affirmations so they feel authentic to you. What we're wanting is something that you actually feel like you can grow into. So 'I commit to loving myself a little bit more each day,' or 'I commit to doing my best each day,' or 'I'm better than I was.'"
Cordelia charmed several large parchment posters to float in the air so that they could see the affirmations that she had chosen for them to pick from.
1. I am capable of transforming negative experiences into something positive.
2. I am worthy of respect and equality.
3. I am strong enough to do what I need to do to get through.
4. I am opening my heart and learning to trust again.
5. I am rational, balanced, and know my truth.
6. No one can take my truth away from me. I speak my truth, even if my voice shakes.
7. It's okay to not be okay.
8. Every emotion is legitimate. I let myself be happy, sad, frustrated, and hurt. This is my experience and I am accepting it.
9. Each day, I am creating a more meaningful life.
10. I am changing in positive ways. I am making peace with my past and accepting myself.
11. I make healthy choices and choose to love myself a bit more every day.
12. It may hurt now, but it will not hurt forever.
13. I am exactly where I need to be on my journey.
14. I am safe at this moment.
15. Today, I choose to focus on the things I can control.
16. My needs and wants are just as important as anyone else's.
17. Other people do not determine my worth.
18. What happened does not define me.
19. Today, I choose me.
20. I give myself permission to do what I need to do for recovery and healing.
Looking over the list, Draco immediately found one that he felt a connection to and summoned his journal from his bag. He began to write.
It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be 's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay. It's okay not to be okay.
Draco was a lot of things, but none of those things were okay. He continued scrawling the affirmation in his journal until Cordelia gave them a break for refreshments while the castle's elves set up the art tables in a square inside of the circle. Snapping his journal shut, Draco looked up to see Theo hovering in front of him.
"Come on, Dragon, let's get you some tea and some more to eat." Draco nodded, even though the tension in his stomach had the toast he'd eaten earlier feeling like iron weights in his gut. Draco knew Theo cared about him. He needed to let Theo take care of him until their time was up. It was important to let Theo do what was best for his own healing and clearly, for the brunette wizard, that meant bullying him into eating.
Draco understood. Sometimes things felt out of control and Theo hated that. They were all carrying around the trauma from their childhoods, Theo more than most, the scars he kept disillusioned attested to that. And Draco reminded himself that it wouldn't hurt him to play pretend for Theo; there was so little that Draco could do for the man he loved most, but this was something.
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It was after lunch and Hermione wasn't sure what to do with herself now that she had some free time. She'd picked at her food with the rest of her table mates and the only conversation was stilted, as though they were lost in thought over what Cordelia had covered in that morning's group session. Luna was the only one who even made some half hearted attempt at talking, making comments about nargles.
Theo and Draco had individual therapy, one after the other and since the previous night they'd both been quiet and semi lost in their own thoughts. Pansy was going with Neville and Luna to harvest herbs from the greenhouse for Professor Slughorn to make potions and pastes for Madam Pomfrey, so that left Hermione completely alone.
Working in the library alone had lost its appeal after spending so much time there with Draco. It had somehow become their thing. Certainly after yesterday's erotic interlude, she would never be able to be in the Hogwarts library again without thinking of Draco Malfoy.
As she started to go down the corridor, McGonagall's voice made her stop and disillusion herself before hiding in an alcove. "Something must be done, Cordelia," the Headmistress was whispering. "That man has already thrown in the towel and is content to let Mr. Malfoy rot in Azkaban." Though her voice was low, it was laced with a fury that Hermione shared in.
"Minerva, I certainly have no plans to just give up in that regard. I'm going to testify rather than simply submit my recommendations to the Wizengamot. Have you considered possibly doing that yourself? A strong united front is going to be the best defence for the young Malfoy Heir." Their voices faded as they continued walking towards their destination, leaving Hermione sitting alone in the alcove with her thoughts.
McGonagall was right, something had to be done, Hermione Jean Granger was not about to let Draco be thrown into Azkaban.
0000000
Clutching to each other, Theo and Draco headed towards the part of the castle that housed Cordelia's office. They sat together in the bright well-lit waiting room, their hands still intertwined. Draco's head rested on Theo's shoulder, his despair still evident even though they hadn't spoken more on the topic. Theo just needed them to get past all this angst and suffering. The four of them had such potential to be truly and deeply happy, Theo could feel it in his bones. He wasn't going to just give in to the powers that be and let the first time he had ever been happy in his life be ripped away from him.
They both startled in their seats as Cordelia opened the outer door and looked at the two of them with surprise.
"You have beaten me here, I see." She smiled, although it was clear to Theo that the light didn't quite reach her eyes, "who would like to come in first?"
"I would," Theo replied, extracting himself gently from his lover, placing a soft kiss on Draco's temple after he rose to follow Cordelia into the green sanctuary of her office. A whispered promise that he wouldn't be too long was all he left the blonde with, hopeful that Draco would be alright when he returned.
Theo had been keeping himself still and calm in front, not willing to put anymore onto his wizard, but now found himself so restless that he couldn't bear to sit in any of the chairs that Cordelia had available. He paced in front of the windows, his arms behind his back. The anger boiling inside of him came out with Cordelia's first words as she sat across from him.
"So tell me Theo, what's bothering you today?" Her floating quill was already taking notes behind her, probably on his behaviour and state of dress.
"How could Draco give up like this?" Theo nearly shouted at the woman, tears that he didn't even know were so close to the surface coming now, stinging at his eyes. "How could his mother allow it? I'm going to be fucking sick. How could I have been so stupid to not get a promise in writing from Robards before allowing him to spend six bleeding hours extracting some of the most horrible memories of Draco's bloody horrible life." Theo knew his words were blurring together and that his volume had increased through his whole speech, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. "How did I fail him so, by not double checking that he was being represented properly?"
"Theo, I need you to breathe." Cordelia said, "Can you breathe with me? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Breathe in through your nose for a count of 4, taking the breath into your stomach. Hold your breath for a count of 4. Release your breath through your mouth with a whooshing sound for a count of 8."
Theo looked at Cordelia like she was an utter madwoman for an instant, but then shook his head reminding himself that this was why she was here. In for four, hold for four and out for eight. "Really great work, Theo," her soothing voice echoed in the room, grounding him out of his panic. "Now let's do that one more time."
Theo's heart still felt like a bird fluttering in a cage, but he followed Cordelia's directives again. She hadn't led him astray thus far. When the final whoosh of the exhale left his lungs, Theo had to admit he felt a little better.
"Okay," Cordelia said, crossing her hands in her lap. "Now, do you think you could sit? Or do you need to stand or move to maintain your equilibrium, Theo?"
"I think I could sit." Theo stated with forced calm and Cordelia nodded encouragingly.
"That was a lot of information that you just gave me, and I'd like you to take a step back from everything that is going on and explain what it is you were trying to say. Perhaps start at the beginning of what happened to put you in a state. Slowly if you could, remember I might not have all the background information that you do. Breathe between words, and just recount it. I really want to help you Theo, but I can't if you don't slow down and let me know what's happened."
"Yeah, you're right," Theo breathed, he looked down at his hands in his lap, finding that they were shaking. Damn, he really was all out of sorts.
"The other day, when I had to miss a group, I Floo called Robards at the DMLE, you know him?" At Cordelia's nod, Theo continued, "Draco told me about some issues with the werewolves and muggle women at the Manor last year. Someone's likely told you by now I am certain. It's not beyond imagining, but it's much worse than anything I've ever endured. And that sweet Luna was there for some of it too. Horrid. The whole thing is bloody horrid." Theo realised that he might be getting slightly off track and cleared his throat, centering himself again.
"Anyway, I arranged for a memory extraction with Robards specifically, because I was worried about the Aurors watching Narcissa discovering the makeshift graveyard at the Manor and it being used at the trial. They are right pricks, the ones stationed at the Manor. And I completely dropped the ball. I didn't get anything in writing for Draco's trial. We did it out of the good of our bleeding hearts and that's just not the fucking Slytherin way. Hermione must be rubbing off on me." Theo sighed in frustration and pushed his curls back from his face. They had grown a bit over the summer and he could use a trim. There he went, distracting himself with trivialities.
"Then last night, I found out that Draco never hired his own solicitor. He has some fool from the Wizengamot whose name he couldn't even recall, because he said that it didn't matter. Wouldn't change anything. What is he thinking? What was Narcissa thinking about by not stepping in?"
"Theo," Cordelia said, "Do you feel a strong pull to take care of Draco?"
Theo looked at her in astonishment, "If I don't, who will?"
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Cordelia opened the door to her office and Theo came out with red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands. Draco stood quickly, moving to meet Theo with concern, but the brunette just shook his head and kissed Draco by the ear. His soft breath grazing Draco's neck, Theo whispered, "I'll see you in the room or at dinner," before Theo darted out into the hallway.
With a gaping mouth, Draco stared after him for a couple moments until eventually Cordelia cleared her throat behind him. "Draco? Are you ready for your session?" Cordelia called kindly from behind him, calling Draco back to reality and pulling him away from his desire to run after Theo.
"Oh right, yes of course." Draco answered, turning to follow her into the office. He noticed that she'd hung some small crystals in the windows that cast little fluttering rainbows about the ceiling. That was new and rather lovely.
Already pulling out her notebook and muggle pen, Cordelia asked, "How are you doing?"
Her comforting voice caused Draco to immediately break out into tears again. Crying seemed to be all he was doing lately. Lucius would be so ashamed. "The overwhelming inevitability of my Azkaban sentence is getting me a bit down if I am perfectly honest."
Cordelia made some notes, and looked at Draco with discerning eyes, "Why do you think it is inevitable that you are going to spend time in Azkaban?"
"My solicitor came yesterday and said that five years was the best sentence I could hope for. And that's contingent on bloody Saint Potter testifying for my character. I'm sure the Headmistress has filled you in, but the Chosen One and I don't get on and never have. I can't imagine what sort of a character witness he'll be." Draco shook his head in despair.
"Well, the DMLE sent me an owl asking me to follow up with you about your memory extraction and what you've revealed to them. They want my professional opinion about it for my court statement." Cordelia looked at Draco, tilting her head to the side. "What kind of character assessment do you imagine I am going to give? Do you think I am going to ignore the coercion and abuse you clearly suffered? Do you think that after I reviewed the sample memory sent by Robards, that I'd be anything other than sympathetic to your very real suffering?"
Draco looked at Cordelia in shock, not only had she seen his memories, but she saw what that year had truly been and not what the papers had painted it to be. She saw him, acknowledged the real him.
"Exactly," Cordelia continued, gesturing with her pen, "I'm well aware that you were a victim, Draco, but I need you to do your part and stop giving up and giving in to the people who want to punish you for your father's crimes. Can you do that for me?"
At Draco's tentative nod, Cordelia went on, "Good, good. Now let's go through these questions from the DMLE and you try to be as honest as possible, alright?" Cordelia looked at him reassuringly.
"Alright, Cordelia." Draco nodded, as he took a few deep breaths.
"Okay let's begin."
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Hermione laid with her head in Pansy's lap on the couch in the common room. It was much to her dismay that, despite multiple Scourgifies, the couch still smelled a bit like cigarettes. Pansy's long sharp nails ran through Hermione's tangled curls.
"I should have plaited it this morning," Pansy muttered, working out yet another knot. Crookshanks hopped up onto Hermione's lap and Pansy gave him a scratch muttering something about monsterous felines and their horrible ginger fur under her breath, but it had no venom. The half kneazle began to purr deeply before falling asleep. Pansy returned all her attention to Hermione's tangled tresses.
"We were a little distracted," Hermione replied, a blush warming her cheeks at the memory of their morning activities.
"Still no excuse." Pansy smirked down at Hermione, tapping a finger to her nose. "Although I must admit that your little noises this morning distracted me all during group therapy. The one you made when I kissed you right," Pansy's fingers ran the length of Hermione's neck, lingering behind her ear, "here was a particular favourite of mine."
Hermione preened under Pansy's regard. The raven-haired witch had a way of making Hermione feel like the most beautiful girl in the world with just a twitch of her lips and a raise of the eyebrow. Pansy really was magnificent.
"I hope Draco's lousy solicitor was right about me not going to Azkaban," Pansy murmured into the quiet between lingering caresses on Hermione's neck, "I'll admit, I don't feel quite so confident."
"I could testify for you?" Hermione offered, "I am planning to do so for Draco. Then if Harry decides to be an arse, I could hopefully offset it. Use my Golden Girl status for something worthwhile, that is if Ron hasn't destroyed it with the bloody rumours he's been spreading." Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lip, relishing the accolades heaped on her
"Don't do that Mi," Pansy scolded. "Don't pigeonhole yourself like that. You are more than that, more precious than gold. The mob doesn't have even the slightest sense of how truly gifted a witch you are. If you want to testify for me, I will gladly take it, but not because you are the golden girl, but because you are someone I care about deeply. Even if I do go to Azkaban, it would make me proud to be able to say that such an amazing, brilliant, brave witch was in my corner." At each adjective, Pansy kissed Hermione's lips long and lingering. Her teeth nipped at Hermione's lips, almost drawing blood but not quite.
"Ma boîte aux trésors," Pansy whispered into Hermione's hair, as she prayed to some unknown goddess that she might remain free and that Draco might dodge the oubliette that threatened to swallow him up as well. Pansy wanted more than anything to see what the four of them could become if all these threats could finally be left behind them.
If only.
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Professor Vector was a much less involved Head of House than Professor Snape had been. Blaise didn't think that she had ever imagined, much less wanted to be, the Head of Slytherin. His little fifth year spy, Eurydice, signalled to Blaise where he was leaning against the fireplace in the Slytherin common room drinking a glass of wine openly. He nodded to her and she discreetly slipped away and headed in the direction of the common room door. Her action did make him wonder what Tracey was up to that the girl felt the need to pull him aside, as there was no one else in their house that she'd need to hide from.
A few minutes passed before Blaise pushed away from the mantle, sure that no one would connect the two of them. He downed his glass and left it behind as he followed Eurydice. Her tiny hand shot out from the shadows and grabbed his arm as he went by the potions lab.
"What is it?" Blaise asked, as he faced the mousy fifth year with her glasses and severe braid. He vaguely wondered if she was related to Madam Pince, there was something about her that just reminded him of the librarian.
"Millie and Tracey are planning something to get back at your girlfriend for what happened in the bathroom the other day! It sounds like they really want to hurt her. I thought you would want to know right away."
"Fuck," Blaise breathed, running his hand over his face, and then looked at her in wide-eyed concern, "Wait, what in the bloody hell happened in the bathroom?"
End note:
Most of the affirmations were from
/affirmations-for-trauma/
