Healing Harry Potter

Chapter 5

Published: 2/24/2022

It was morning when his alarms woke him. Harry had woken up, but he was seemingly calm. He had just sat up in his bed, which had triggered his alarm.

"Harry? Are you okay?" Draco asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Harry seemed puzzled. "I slept good."

"You slept well? No bad dreams?"

Harry nodded, uncertain and looked at him. "You slept."

Draco rubbed his eyes, exhausted. "I do need sleep, Harry. I was taking Stay Awake potions, but even they have their limits."

"You're always going to stay here?"

"For the time being. I want you to be comfortable, and I'm not sure that you should be alone right now."

Harry nodded. "I'm usually alone... when I'm here."

Draco had guessed that. 24-7 coverage was not easily done, as the hospital really didn't have enough healers to provide that service. Truthfully, he shouldn't be here, but he was determined to help Potter acclimate.

"If an emergency case comes in, I will have to step out. Will you be able to handle that?" he asked.

Potter nodded.

"I'm trusting you not to do anything if that happens, Harry."

He looked away. He definitely understood his meaning. "You'll tie me down if I do."

"No, I'll just have to find another person to sit with you, if something happens. I told you I wouldn't strap."

"Unless I'm bad."

"No, Harry. I will not unless you're attacking someone else, and I'll release you as soon as you're calm. I know the restraints are traumatizing to you, so I will only use them as a last resort."

"If I hurt someone."

"No, if you won't stop hurting someone. You attacked me, remember? I didn't restrain you then, did I?"

Harry shook his head and rubbed his wrist. There were still scars there from his father, as well as others from various suicide attempts. Merlin, his heart sank seeing them. Harry didn't deserve this. It had been five years of absolute torture for Harry. He was determined to do everything in his power to heal him.

"It's gone," Harry murmured, suddenly.

Draco blinked. "What's gone?"

"It."

Potter seemed to have an inability to carry a conversation. Draco had patience, though, and leaned forward. "What do you mean, Harry?"

Harry looked confused, as he couldn't articulate what he was trying to say. "It... the bad feeling. The draw."

Draco refrained from smiling. If Potter felt the spell was gone, it was a good sign. "Do you remember what I told you last night?"

Potter rocked back and forth and didn't answer.

"There was a Compulsion Spell on you, masked by other spells. I managed to remove them. You shouldn't have the urge to drink the potion, but it will still appear."

Tears came down Harry's face, and Draco stayed quiet to let Harry process it. "Will it... come back?" he whispered.

"No. Harry... you might feel some residue draw to drink the potion. It is because it's been... engrained into your thought process. It'll be almost an automatic response to drink the potion, so you'll still have to be on guard. I wasn't able to remove the curse that's making the potion appear."

"It will still come?"

"Yes, for now. As I said last night, I'll have to do some research. Some spells are easier to break than others, but the spell making you drink it, is gone."

Harry stopped rocking. "If you break the other one, then what?"

"Then we start healing you, Harry."

He trembled, but still asked, "W-What will you d-do?"

Draco leaned forward and said, softly, "We will slowly, and at a pace that you are comfortable with, do some regenerative therapies on your body, your nerves and muscles. You never were fully healed... physically. It'll be a lot of spells, and I can give you a sleeping draught through the spellwork, to ease you through it. But when it's done, I should be able to make your shakes stop and the pain go away."

Potter looked at his shaking hands and then at him. "You can make it stop, too?"

"Yes, of course. You didn't go through your rehabilitation. Your nerves were damaged, and they should heal fine after several sessions."

Harry nodded and took some deep breaths. "What else?"

Draco was very pleased that Harry was asking questions. "I'll be able to get you on a potion regimen, once the monkshood is out of your system. I can prescribe Mood Stabilizers and Calming Draughts. You won't have to deal with your ups and downs as much, and I won't give you anything that takes away from your mental capacity. Just mild potions that help with your mood changes."

Potter was a little apprehensive but nodded. "No sleep."

"If that's what you want. I will try to accommodate your requests, Harry, as much as possible."

His eyes flicked to him briefly and then back to the other side of the bed. "I'll get better, though?"

"Yes, Harry. You can heal. I know it's hard to believe, but that potion that comes prevented any type of recovery. It gave you hallucinations, made you agitated, and prevented any other recovery potions from being used. Once it's out of your system completely, you'll have a chance to heal from what happened, physically and mentally."

Harry's forehead furrowed, as if confused. "Mentally... what if I can't?" he asked in a small voice.

Harry's mental health concerned Draco more than anything else, and Harry knew it, too. Draco took a deep breath. "Calming Draught and the Mood Stabilizers will help considerably, Harry. Mind injuries are just as serious as physical ones, and you have never been properly treated for what happened. You have some PTSD and developed terrible coping mechanisms. Since you've basically had no treatments over these last five years, it's only become worse. Now, a mind healer could...."

"No," Potter said and started rocking back and forth, again, and his breathing was becoming erratic. "No mind healers...."

Draco nodded. He wasn't that surprised. Since it happened, Harry had been alone in his own thoughts, and everything was about avoidance. He leaned forward in his chair and put his elbows on his hands, clasping his hands together. He slowly met Harry's eyes, though he seemed determined not to look at him.

"Harry... I'm not going to force you to see one, but it's an important step in the healing process. What happened... isn't just going to go away. You can't keep ignoring it, or you'll never be able to handle talking to people, looking someone in the eye or even let someone shake your hand. They can help you with that," he urged.

"No... I don't want anyone to..." Harry paused. "I don't like strangers."

"Harry, they aren't just going barge in here and make you talk. They'll be kind and careful until you're comfortable with it."

Harry shook his head and let out a little sob. "They aren't. They tied me down... tried to make me talk about... I don't want to talk."

Draco grimaced. Of fucking course. He should have realized that the hospital would have tried to force a mind healer on him, several probably, and each had re-traumatized Harry in a different way. Forced talks, strapping, non-consensual exposure therapy and who knows what else was done to him. Harry wasn't likely to trust any of them again any time soon.

Harry had tears in his eyes as he looked at the floor, tense. "Please... don't make me...."

"I won't make you, I promise, but I will try to persuade. Harry... you do understand that you need help? That the dreams, the flashbacks, the touch sensitivity... isn't going to disappear on its own."

Harry took a deep breath. "So, I'm not going to get better."

"Not on your own... but we can work on it, Harry. I'll find someone you can trust, and make sure that your boundaries are respected."

He shook his head. "I won't talk to them... any of them."

"Harry...."

"But I do trust you."

Draco raised an eyebrow. That was something. "Thank you. I'm not sure I deserve that level of trust."

"You... I know you. No bad thoughts... I know-you know. You understand," Potter mumbled, incoherently.

Draco nodded, considering what he was saying. "I do understand. Harry, can I ask if the Legilimency scared you?"

Harry bit his lip. His head and eyes lifted and turned toward him. "No, I liked... it."

"Do you think that you'd be amenable to try it out?"

"Amenable...?"

Maybe he needed to enroll Potter in an introductory English language class, too. "I mean willing. Would you let me treat you... using Legilimency?"

Potter's green eyes met his. "Happy stuff?"

Draco smiled, but shook his head. "Sometimes, but not all the time. We have to see the bad stuff, too."

Potter looked away, again. "You'll... be there?"

"Of course, Harry, I can help you through it. Help you process it, and redirect you if it gets too much," Draco explained, as Potter glanced at him, again.

"I like good stuff."

"I'll be sure to have a lot of that, too," he said. "But... you're going to see things you don't want to see."

"I already see them."

"We won't try until I break the curse on you and get you on some Stabilizers."

Harry nodded and Draco called Laura for their breakfast. Harry ate more than he usually did, which was good. They occasionally talked throughout the rest of the day and, later that night, Harry consented to drink the antidote potion that Draco had used. The last vestiges of the monkshood were neutralized, and unfortunately, that meant that the goblet of poison appeared three different times. Miraculously, Draco was able to talk Harry out of drinking it all three times, though it was close once.

Draco wondered if Harry was going to go through withdrawal from it, as he had been drinking it for five years. He needed to hurry and get the curse lifted, but the few counters he had tried didn't work. He needed his father's books. He had a feeling what book it was from, and he had no idea where it was, or if the Ministry had seized or destroyed it. They weren't likely to let him, a marked Death Eater, have it. So, he pushed that aside for now and focused on the last mystery: the fact that Harry was alive.

Draco knew that he was dying the moment the poison hit his stomach. Strange... Potter had never shown any signs of nearly dying. Before he could proceed with a potion regimen, he needed to make sure that there wasn't anything that could hurt Harry. There was no curse, charm or spell in the world that could act as an antidote to poison, especially monkshood. Then, he remembered the number of Concealment Charms on Harry and what they were hiding. Most were for the curses, but a few were masking something physical.

"Harry? Could I scan you a bit? I think the spells I removed might have been hiding something in you."

Harry was already sitting on his bed and nodded. "Sing?"

Draco sighed. "Only if you ask properly."

Potter glared at him, and Draco almost regretted letting his annoyance with Potter's one-word responses show, until he said, "Will you please sing?"

He gave Harry a big smile. "Of course, I will, Harry. Just relax. I won't be doing anything strenuous," he said, scooting closer to the bed on his rolly chair.

He sang another French lullaby, lulling Harry into another memorizing chant, and focused his scans on Harry's stomach. He tried not to let his surprise show, but there was something small in it. It was hard to figure out what it was, as it was hard to discern. It also had some Concealment Charms on it and was organic, so it was harder to see it with magic. However, he realized that it was fractured, broken into even smaller pieces. It had was still embedded into the stomach wall, almost like it had been grafted into it. Draco then realized that the object, whatever it was, used to be a lot larger, if the damage on Harry's stomach wall was any indication. It had dwindled down slowly.

Huh, what was it, though? he asked himself.

"Mal-Draco?" Harry said, and Draco hadn't realized that he had stopped singing.

"Oh, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. I'll start, again," he said, taking a breath.

"What did you find?" Harry asked, sounding a little worried.

Draco met his eyes and smiled. "Would you like to see it?"

Harry blinked. "See?"

"Yes, an image of it. I can cast a tomography spell. It'll display an image of what's in your stomach."

Harry grimaced and looked at his stomach. "There's something in there?"

"Yes, it's small, but I can detect it now that the Concealment Spells are gone."

"Okay," Harry said, in a soft voice.

"Okay, I'm just going to use one spell, but I'll have to keep my wand pointed at you, like a muggle ultrasound."

Harry nodded, though a little nervous, and Draco cast the Imaging Spell. The image appeared above Harry's abdomen, showing the inside of his stomach. He brightened the picture to see the walls and digesting food, but turned his wand to locate the object. Draco almost gasped when he found it. The spotted pattern was a dead giveaway, though it was nearly gone. It was nay impossible to break down in a normal stomach, but years of monkshood poison had almost completely demolished it.

"W-What is it?" Potter asked.

Draco smiled and turned to look at him. "You should be able to figure it out. See the spotted pattern? It is what has been keeping you alive all these years, saving you from the potion."

Harry grimaced, and he looked confused. "That little speck?"

"It used to be larger. See the damage around it?" Draco said, leaning closer and pointing out the deterioration in the image. "It had been fairly large when it was put there. Honestly... it's almost gone. If it had been much longer, the potion might have killed you."

Harry's eyes widened. "But what is it?"

"You remember, don't you, Harry? In school? What stone will save someone from poison?"

His jaw dropped, and then he said, "A bezoar?"

Harry had used a bezoar to save Weasley in their sixth year. Snape had told him what had happened. Harry had saved him, too. Saved him from becoming a killer. Saved his soul from being tainted.

"That's right, Harry. A bezoar. It was grafted into your stomach."

Harry's shoulders and eyes slowly dropped. He understood. "To keep me alive."

"Yes," Draco whispered and took a few more images, before cutting off the spell. "To torture you with constant monkshood poisoning."

Harry's eyes welled with tears, and he turned his head away. "Why? Why did he... why couldn't he just kill me?"

Draco had to wipe tears of his own. "He was a monster, Harry. He wanted you to suffer... destroy you."

"He did," he cried.

"No, he didn't. He didn't destroy me, Harry. He couldn't destroy you," Draco said, setting his hand on Harry's bed. The proximity hadn't set Potter off, yet, thankfully.

"I'll never be right!"

"Yes, you will. You might not be the same, but you can recover. You can heal and walk out of here free with your head high. You're still a hero, Harry. You still care. You remember what happened yesterday? When I drink that potion? You grabbed me. You told Laura what happened. You cared that I was hurt, that I was dying. My father couldn't take away everything that you are."

Harry's head lifted, and he stared into his eyes, unflinchingly.

Draco stared back. He had to get the words out. "You said that you trusted me? Trust that I will heal you. Trust that I will find a way to make you feel safe. Trust... that I'll never leave you alone in the darkness, again."

Harry nodded and looked down at Draco's hand on the bed. He was about to pull it away when Harry's shaky hand found it. His trembling fingers gripped his hand, willfully touching him, though it was as safe and distant as he could make it.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Anything for you, Harry," he said. Fuck everything else. His only responsibility in life now was to help Harry heal.