Chapter Thirty Eight: Choices

Draco stared out the tiny window of Lucy's office, keeping his facial features carefully schooled to look bored and disinterested. It was his second session with the shrink, and he had spent most of their first session working hard to avoid speaking as much as possible.

"How was your Christmas?"

Draco let his eyes flick to her, hopefully conveying how much he didn't care about their conversation, "Fine." To her credit, Lucy seemed unphased. Severus did warn me she's a Slytherin.

"Why don't we do highs and lows?" She continued, as if Draco was a cooperative and engaging patient. "What were the best and worst parts of the holiday? I'll go first; the high for me was getting to see my niece and nephews open their presents in the morning. And my low was that this was the first Christmas I've had without my grandmother and I had more emotions about it than I was expecting."

She was looking at him expectantly. Draco sighed, it was a sneaky move. He couldn't avoid answering without looking completely rude. And he couldn't answer in one word answers either. If I answer honestly I'll have to talk about cutting… but if I lie she will probably be able to tell. "I don't have a high" he mumbled, feeling his sense of superiority and composure slipping a bit.

"That's okay, we can start with the low," she responded kindly.

He scowled, feeling comfort in his signature sneer. It felt good to be annoyed, safer. "It was all low, the whole day was lame." There, that was a decent deflection.

"Alright," Lucy said with a slight smirk on her face, obviously having seen what he was doing. "What specifically was lame?"

Draco leaned back, rattling off complaints was easy. He could focus on putting down the dilapidated old house they stayed in, as long as he steered clear of how cozy it felt. There were the measly decorations, which hadn't in any way made him yearn for coming home to his parent's house to see the cold, pristine decor installed by house elves and never to be touched upon fear of death. He could complain about the cheap gifts Remus and Sirius had obviously scrambled to get him, just as long as he didn't mention the gifts from his parents, most of which still lay unopened in a pile at the back of his closet.

But as he spoke something wound tighter and tighter inside him. He thought of what Black had said to him the other night, about being ready to care about people. He thought about Severus, and the kind no, lame, letter he had sent with his gift. Draco had opened it on his own, after Sirius had left him that night. The letter had been long, and full of advice Draco would rather ignore. But one line seemed stuck in his head.

Draco, you are not responsible for the harm and misery done to you, you are not to blame for the wounds that you carry. But you alone can be responsible for your happiness, for choosing to heal and move forward. No one else can make that choice for you.

Lastly, he thought of Harry. Harry, who seemed to contradict himself, and everything Draco understood to be true. He had been through unthinkable trauma, but he was not bitter. He had leaned on many of the same maladaptive coping mechanisms that Draco had, and yet he seemed to be fighting them. And not just because he was being made to, as best Draco could tell, Harry actually wanted to get better. But at the same time he struggled as Draco did. He watched his raven haired friend struggle at every meal and snack, he saw him flinch from flashbacks and dig his nails into his palms in anxiety. It doesn't make sense… How can he struggle so much against himself? Maybe that's what Severus meant, that we have to take responsibility to heal our own wounds… Draco wasn't sure what to think of that. He wasn't ready to spill his soul to the random shrink in front of him. He couldn't imagine crying and sniveling about the horrible things his parent's had done to him. But when he thought about living like this forever, spending all of his energy being angry and hiding from everyone, he suddenly felt very lonely.

"I guess, if I had to pick one, the worst part of Christmas was the gift my father sent me." There, I gave her a hint, I can't help it if she asks follow up questions or not.

Lucy's face remained neutral, "Would you like to talk about it?"

Draco paused, remembering the rules that Lucy had explained to him during his first session. "Pass," he said quietly.

Lucy nodded and jotted the topic down on her notepad, for potential discussion later.

Draco was quiet in the car on the way home, and Sirius didn't push him. Despite his usual urge to fill silences, he was tired. It had been three days since Christmas, and despite both boys seeming subdued and quiet after their difficult night, Sirius was struggling to recover. Seeing Draco cutting had taken a bigger toll on Sirius than he had expected. Perhaps it was the Christmas holiday as well. Whatever it is, I need to get over it, he thought bitterly. He had barely slept in days, and most of his sleep had been fitful and filled with nightmares. He knew Remus was starting to get worried, and worrying his friend was the last thing he wanted to do. He has enough to worry about with the boys, and he's wasted enough of his life worrying about me. Sirius sighed and shook his head as he pulled up to Grimmauld House. The boys were both going to the eating disorder day program the next day, so he and Remus would both have a day to relax at least.

"We're going where?" Draco asked in horror. Harry looked just as unenthused.

Remus sighed and continued to put breakfast on the table. "Harry, you knew this was coming. And Draco, Severus spoke to you about this before you came here. It's only one day a week, and it should be helpful." He could tell he wasn't selling them. "The outpatient day program is part of your treatment plan Harry, it's non negotiable. Draco, if you feel strongly about not going you can take it up with Severus."

Both boys groaned, and Remus could tell that Harry was starting to get anxious. He could never tell what was going on with Draco, beyond the attitude of annoyance and superiority that the boy projected. But neither of the teens raised further argument, so he let breakfast continue in silence.

Harry clenched his fists, digging his nails as deeply into his palms as he could manage without being noticeable. He and Draco were standing in Grinmauld's living room waiting to floo to the Salem Residential treatment facility for their day program. He shot one last desperate look at Sirius. "Do we really have to go? I know you guys need a break but I could just stay in my room all day. I won't bother you, and I'll eat all my meals and snacks by myself too, I promise."

Sirius sighed and gave his godson a smirk. "Yes, because hiding in your room and eating by yourself would help your recovery. Harry, I promise this isn't a punishment. If you give it a chance, you might even like it."

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered "doubt it".

Ten minutes later Harry and Draco found themselves standing awkwardly in a large living room area of the Salem Center, looking miserable. There were nine residents at the center, other than them. All of them were girls, and all of them were ignoring the teen boys.

Draco glanced at him, a rare look of uncertainty on his face. "What now? He asked, annoyance dripping from his words.

Harry shrugged, but they didn't have too long to wonder. A moment later the therapist who had greeted them when they arrived at the center clapped her hands and requested that everyone gather round. The boys followed the other residents, patients, Harry reminded himself, we're all patients. He wasn't sure if the thought was comforting or sickening. It brought to mind his time on the St. Mungo's psych ward, and for a moment the fear of being trapped here and unable to leave overwhelmed him. But it that time had not been all bad, in some ways it had been life saving. Try to give it a chance, Harry wasn't sure if the voice in his head was his own, or Lucy's, but he took another breath and walked purposely to the ring of chairs and couches where the girls had gathered. Draco apparently follow, for a moment later they were sitting side by side on a worn blue couch with a faded floral pattern while the therapist, Marsha, explained the rules of the group therapy session.

Harry sat quietly for most of the group session, he offered his name when asked, and briefly explained that he was in treatment for anorexia which had been recently diagnosed. A few of the girls gave him skeptical looks, but most of the group was supportive. Draco said nothing the entire time.

When they finally flooed home after dinner Harry didn't think he could possibly be more exhausted. Eating in a group, even a small one full of other people who were also struggling, had been hard. It made him worried for his return to school. But he pushed it out of his mind. There was no use in thinking about it now.

Draco had been miserable the whole day, and the moment they arrived back at Grimmauld Place he stormed from the living room mumbling something about hating everyone and how he was never going back to "that stupid center".

Harry shuddered a bit when he heard the door slam, he knew that Draco wasn't allowed to close his door, and he couldn't help but wonder if the other boy was cutting. Put it out of your mind! He told himself strictly. Sirius was already standing to go after him. Remus gave Harry a tired but warm smile and suggested that they head to the kitchen for some tea.

Harry honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could keep his head up, but he nodded and followed anyway. He knew that he would have to have his bedtime snack before he could crash anyway.

He and Remus sat in a peaceful quiet for a few minutes, and for a moment Harry basked in the ease of it. It felt almost unreal, to come home from a difficult day and have a trusted adult care enough about him to just sit quietly and sip tea, enjoying each other's course, his "trying" day had been immensely hard, he felt like he was constantly swinging between wanting to recover, and wanting to rebel. And the sound of Sirius and Draco having a row in the background didn't exactly match the picturesque image in his mind. But even that, in its own strange way, made Harry grateful to finally have somewhere that felt like home.

I'm trying to keep up my momentum, but I decided I need to add a chapter between this one and the next one I've written, so it might be a bit longer before I update. My goal is by the end o f the week!

As always, reviews are so encouraging! I've been working on this fic since 2017 and I want so badly to see it finished. It's been close to my heart for a long time and I love hearing from others who have appreciated and enjoyed it.