"Parole officer, actually."
                              
"Parole officer. It does keep getting worse." Harry wants to ask her what he did but decided against it. He was a healer. It didn't matter.
                              
"Nasty jerk, too. You'll hate him... the Ministry guy I mean. I can guess why your patient took the plunge with that guy on him," she said, and Harry frowned.
                              
"Can I see the scans?" he said, and she handed him the file.
                              
Twenty-five, the same age as him. The transfer warden might see and hear the obvious problems, but Harry saw the deeper ones, the ones even the trauma healers miss. Cruciatus Curses and many other pain-inducing ones. Lots of them and worse internal injuries to his lower region. Severe torture and sexual abuse. His heart sunk. He avoided the trauma ward for this reason, but this patient had been shafted from ward to ward with no one looking deeper. He couldn't refuse him. He did wonder why there were no potions in his system except nutrients.
                              
"Thank you, Cassandra," he said, taking the file. Maybe relieving his patient's physical pain will give him some relief. This was going to take a long time, and Harry would make it last as long as possible. Some normalcy might help with the mental problems.
                              
"You're welcome, Harry," she replied. She was one of the few he liked to joke with.
                              
He opened the door. He didn't look. As Harry got closer, he saw the hair was dirty, and he muttered a cleaning spell, enraged that the trauma ward healers hadn't even done that. It was light blonde hair, but severely tangled, like the patient hadn't brushed it in years. He was shivering and roughly breathing. Clearly, scared. Harry felt pity in his heart.
                              
"Good morning. I'm going to be your healer for the next few months."
                              
The patient lifted his head and slowly turned to look at Harry. His gray eyes were cautious, confused and full of fear. "Potter?"
                              
Harry recognized him, now. "Malfoy?"
                              
Draco Malfoy stared at him only briefly, before returning to look at the wall. "Leave me alone, Potter," he said, almost lazily.
                              
"I can't do that, Malfoy. You're in a lot of pain and have a lot of injuries."
                              
"I want another healer."
                              
Harry frowned. It was his right to refuse service, to a limited degree. He had tried to commit suicide, though. His rights to refuse treatment kinda disappeared until Mental Health cleared him.
                              
"Malfoy... Draco. I'm afraid you've been to the other trauma wards, and they could only heal you so much."
                              
"So, they sent me to you last?" he snorted, still not looking at him. "Are you that bad?"
                              
"No, I'm that good, and they would have sent you to me eventually. You need rehabilitation on your back and limbs."
                              
"Don't bother. As soon as I'm released, I'll make sure I do it right."
                              
"Kill yourself?"
                              
Malfoy didn't answer and refused to look at him. Harry probably should tell him that statements like that would only prolong his stay in the hospital. Harry would make the proper notes in his file to state as such. He couldn't let a suicidal patient go home.
                              
"Well, there's no way you are getting out of here if you can't walk. So, do you want me to heal you or not, Malfoy?" Harry tried the casual approach.
                              
Malfoy didn't answer. He just kept his eyes on the wall and trembled. Merlin, he's been traumatized, and Harry wished he paid more attention in the Mind Healing rotation during his training. However, the mind healers usually just stared at their patients and then they wanted him to open his mind to them. Harry would not go anywhere near Occlumency and Legilimency, again. He knew now why the mind healer ran away, screaming. Malfoy knew both proficiently.