Healing Draco Malfoy

Chapter 58

Published: 3/29/23

Draco huddled under his thick blanket, appreciative of its warmth. He loved the blanket Harry gave him as a present when he left the hospital. It was weighted and, at first, he wasn't sure he liked it. Too many memories... but after awhile, it was like a switch flipped and his anxiety faded. It felt like he was wrapped in a shield, and the gentle pressure was... soothing. It was soft and fluffy, and it relieved his muscle aches. He didn't care if it was summer. He hated the cold anyway.

He still had nightmares, but they were nowhere near as bad as they could be. He avoided drinking any sleeping potions as he didn't want to be dependent on them. Carla, his new mind healer (and somewhat his boss), agreed, but she urged him to try to take charge of his dreams, rather than let the memory play out. He wasn't sure he was successful in his attempts so far, but he hadn't woken up in a quivering ball, either. He wasn't afraid to sleep but wasn't exactly thrilled to go to sleep every night.

He sighed as the sun's rays flooded in from his East window. He had to get up, and he looked at his walker beside the bed. It was definitely easier in the hospital to do everything. The bed didn't have a remote, nor did he have a wheelchair lift him, and he had to sit up on his own to get out of bed. But he could handle it. So he grabbed his walker and headed to the loo. Unfortunately, one of the last things Harper did was remove the Purge and Sanitation Charms. He said that the hospital did not allow patients to leave with those spells on. It felt weird feeling after so long.

"Draco? You up?" came from his room as he was drying his hands. Blaise must've walked in.

"No," he responded tersely.

"Ha ha... breakfast is ready, then we can do your morning exercises," Blaise yelled through the door.

"I don't want to. I'm sore from yesterday."

"I'm not getting yelled at by Potter for letting you skip them! Five minutes!" Blaise yelled and walked out into the hallway.

Draco snorted. He fought Blaise over every step, just like Harry. His shoulders dropped. Two weeks had passed since he saw Harry. He missed him terribly. He had to resist flooing over to Weasley's and say to hell with waiting. But there was The Plan™. The stupid plan he had come up with to solve the pesky healer-patient relationship rule. Merlin, he hoped that Harry understood, but Harry was a pessimist nowadays.

Draco hadn't expected Joel to cut off the flow of information, but Draco agreed that it was the right call. Joel was not a fan of The Plan™, anyway. The kid thought it was too much of a gamble, but Draco didn't. He could see that Harry was barely holding on, and he was currently in Granger and Weasley's house... he was watched and comforted. Harry also took time off work, which he had told everyone he would do once Draco was gone. It was the best time. Harry was surrounded by his friends and not stewing in solitude... or, worse, in firewhiskey.

The Plan™ easily formed, once the solicitors, Parvati and Padma, looked into old healer MMMB cases. There was a clear pattern where the MMMB would rule in the healer's favor. One, that the patient was not currently under that healer's care. Two, the patient was of sound mind, capable of exercising his legal rights and controlling his financial stability. Three, the patient had a solid support structure and was able to maintain stable relationships. Lastly, that the patient and healer had had a clear separation period after when the patient left the healer's care.

How long the separation period lasted varied from case to case. It often depended on the extent of the healer and the patient's medical needs. For example, if a patient was just getting a potion or getting a simple curse removed, the MMMB didn't require any time, just that their healer-patient relationship would cease. When it was a long-term relationship, years even, with the healer acting as the family healer, they wanted a few weeks. However, when the healer was a mind healer or elsewise provided intense, long-term care... like him, they wanted months.

Draco wasn't really willing to wait months, but the Patils said if the other steps were established and Draco could manage his life and make sound decisions, they would bend it to a full month. Thirty days. Thirty days of Draco proving he wasn't under Harry's thrall. Blaise and Neville were critical in this step. They were taking him outside to other gatherings, the bank, and his new job. He would emphasize to the nth degree that he was fully capable of running his own life. He would leave no question that he knew what he was getting into.

Draco brushed his hair and carefully got dressed with assistance from a house elf. Then he shuffled out to the breakfast table. Neville and Blaise were still in their pajamas and sitting at the small kitchen table. Blaise had a dining room for formal parties near the foyer.

"What are you, hooligans? Don't even change for breakfast?" Draco chided with a smile.

Neville laughed. "What would gran say?"

"I know my mum would have taken some skin off my hide for it," Blaise snorted. "But... it's our house... our rules... and pajamas are acceptable at any meal."

Draco smiled and carefully dropped down in his usual seat. "Even when company is over?" he queried. It hadn't been the first time he had noticed their lack of pureblood etiquette, but he felt puckish enough to point it out.

"You're not a guest. You are living here, too, Draco," Neville responded.

But Blaise gave Draco a questioning look. "We've eaten like this every day."

Draco nodded. "I certainly didn't want to insult my hosts, and I... umm... forgot."

Neville looked at him sympathetically. He had had many talks with the boy he had once taunted. Neville seemed to understand his memory issues and his reactions to certain things. He had told him about his parents and how he had... bonded with them over the years, despite their inability to communicate. Neville had been so forgiving and welcoming to him... almost like an unofficial mind healer. He valued his friendship with him and was so thankful that he allowed him to come and stay with them.

Neville had caught him in the library reading the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, and he had to embarrassingly admit that he couldn't remember how to cast most spells. Neville sat down next to him, and they went over each spell in the book until Draco got them. Draco was so happy that Neville was helping him and told Neville that he had made it seem easy. Neville just laughed and pointed out that he and Blaise were both professors. Teaching was their jobs. Draco smiled at his own stupidity, and Blaise and Neville spent the time after dinner teaching him magic.

But Neville saw he was embarrassed, again. He reached over and gripped his hand. "How about tomorrow, we all get dressed for breakfast? Would that make you feel better?"

Draco looked down, blushing. "You don't have to."

"No... you remembered something that you hadn't thought about... plus your physical therapist told us that you needed to get dressed and use your muscles in everyday instances. I don't want you to feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable. Getting dressed is not a hard thing to do," Neville said with a laugh. "Truth be told, we have been getting lazy since the school year ended."

Draco looked at Blaise, who nodded. "It's not a problem, Draco."

He still felt uncertain. "I didn't mean to... prompt you to do it. I was just... kidding."

"And you revealed something that means something to you. Besides, it might boost your confidence if we all wear the proper clothes."

Draco nodded and accepted the plate Nimi, his elf, gave him. It was filled with healthy foods to build his muscles. It was a lot better than the hospital food, though Harry had always brought him takeout at lunch. He ate it carefully, using his silverware, which was still a learning process. Harry said that his dexterity would come back with time and continued use. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't around to heal and massage out his cramps. Merlin, he couldn't stop thinking about him.

"Theo is coming for lunch, after your massage therapist leaves," Blaise reminded him.

"I know, thank you," he said.

"Don't think your appointment will get you out of your exercises either, so eat up," Blaise said with a smirk.

Draco glared at him and gave a huff of annoyance, but he continued eating. Blaise enjoyed bossing him around way too much. It reminded Draco of when they were younger, egging each other on. Well, it was actually Blaise egging him on to mess with Potter... Harry. Hell, he was the one who convinced him that dressing up like a dementor would freak Harry out. It failed, and Blaise taunted him for months about it.

Draco honestly thought Blaise was trying to make him snap at him... like in the old days. They would always throw a few half-hearted punches and curses at each other. Blaise was trying to get him to attack or get angry, but anger was something else he had lost in Azkaban. He had fought back in the beginning... with words and fists, but Connors had broken him. Just like using his magic... he was conditioned not to fight back.

He then wondered if someone had told Blaise to egg him on. Would Harry tell him that? He doubted it. Harry hated being pushed around. Harry wouldn't... stop it! he told his head, and then pushed the food around on his plate, moping, until Blaise put his hand on his arm. Draco met his eyes but looked away, embarrassed.

"Get out of your thoughts, blondie. Eat your breakfast," he said, quietly.

Draco tried. He did try. Blaise didn't reach him like Harry could. Instead, he forced his food down and pushed his plate away.

"Ready for your exercises?"

Draco grimaced. He hated them even more that Harry wasn't around, but Blaise wouldn't let him strive off them for a day. His healers couldn't fix him like Harry could. Fucking Salazar... he couldn't stop comparing everything to Harry. He got up and shuffled on his walker to a room that Blaise had made for him. It was filled with physical therapy machines and an exercise/massage bed. He had spared no expense. Damn, he didn't deserve a friend like Blaise.

"Come on, sit down," Blaise said, following him in.

He sat on the bed and looked up at Blaise, his hands shaking from the emotions that were threatening to take over.

"Hey, you can do this, okay?"

Draco lowered his eyes. Drive through the pain, he told himself. He had to get through this, and he had suffered worse. "It hurts," he whispered.

"Inside or out?" Blaise asked, quietly.

That had been his way of asking whether it was emotional or physical pain. "Both."

Blaise nodded and took his hand, kneading it, gently. He wasn't skilled at massage, but it still helped ease the ache. His hands always hurt. They had been the first thing he lost... well after his freedom and innocence. Of course, it had been his father, who took those things first.

"Shh... focus on me. You're getting stuck in your head, again. Remember when we put itching powder in Theo's robes?"

Draco smirked and looked at Blaise. "Probably shouldn't mention that when he gets here."

Blaise continued to massage his hands. "Nah... those were good times... for Theo, too."

Draco huffed and groaned as Blaise massaged out a painful knot. "Thanks."

"What the hell were you doing yesterday? You just woke up... so you couldn't have messed them up this morning," he asked.

"Walking around... writing..." he mumbled.

Blaise sighed. "Just tell me when you need a massage, or let me write, okay?"

"Maybe."

"Blondie... geez, you're still stubborn. Who were you writing anyway?" he asked, curiously.

Draco grimaced. "My... aunt. I was wondering... if we could... mend our relationship. I mean, not that we ever had a relationship."

Blaise smiled. "I'm glad... that you even tried. I really hope she's willing to connect with you."

"I'm not so sure she will be. Death Eaters and her sisters weren't kind to her. She probably wouldn't want to associate with... someone like me."

Blaise pulled him into a hug. "I bet she will want you. She's close to Harry."

"Harry didn't tell anyone about us... me. He thought he had to protect my anonymity to the death."

"I'm nearly positive that she reads the paper. Potter jumped into the proverbial den of hyenas for you."

Draco grumbled under his breath but didn't look at him.

"Did you send it?"

"No... it looks like a four-year-old wrote it."

"I can rewrite it for you," Blaise offered.

"No. Let's get on with the torture," Draco said, changing the subject as he threw his legs on the bed.

"You have a terrible sense of humor."

"If you think that this is anything but painful... you don't understand anything," he snapped.

Blaise sighed. "I know, but you really compare this to...."

"Don't!" Draco hissed, feeling like an icy wind blew over him. It wasn't easy for him to talk about without Harry there.

"I'm sorry... really," Blaise said, sincerely.

Draco leaned back and settled his head on the pillow. "I know. I'm not mad. You have to understand that I had mental guards... walls up when I was in there. It was a dull ache. They couldn't get to me no matter what they did to me. But my walls are down. Everything is bright... sharp... I can't block it out anymore. I feel it."

"I get it. I'm sorry I prodded... and pushed you."

Draco barked a laugh. "I'm glad you do... regardless of my sour temper. I need to work my muscles, no matter how much it hurts. I want to walk... normally, again."

Blaise shook his head and pushed him to complete every one of his exercises. He had just finished when the physical therapist, Bethany, arrived. He drank his potions and let the muggle woman knead out his pain. No, she was not as good as Harry, but she was a great masseuse. She didn't pry as she saw his scars. She knew, minimally, that his muscles had atrophied, and even a muggle could guess why based on the scars and his reactions.

It wasn't easy the first few times she had touched him, but Blaise stuck around to put him at ease. Eventually, he stopped flinching, but would still tense up when she worked his upper legs. To her credit, she tried to be as nice and caring as anyone he had known. She didn't teach him like a broken thing... or even a customer. She treated him like a person, a person who needed constant encouragement and reassurance. Gradually, he said Blaise could leave.

"How are you doing today?"

"Sore," he admitted. He also hadn't been able to look at her in the eye. He hated feeling vulnerable.

"Do you do a full exercise routine every day? That's not good for you either! Balance! Let your muscles rest! When I say to use your muscles every day... I meant doing normal tasks. Not use these machines until you've overworked them!"

"Sorry," he said, quietly.

She let out a breath of air, frustrated. "Where's Blaise? Blaise!"

Draco looked at the door and Blaise ran in, thinking there was an emergency. Bethany gave him an earful about his exercise routine and rest periods. Draco looked at the wall.

"Okay! Okay! I thought you... you know... healed muscles?"

"Heal muscles? Massaging works them loose, sometimes doing as much damage as working out. You two either stop the high-intensity workouts on the days I come, or you can find another doctor to help you! I can't let you two destroy his body. It needs to heal naturally!" she half-shouted.

"Ah... yes... ma'am," Blaise said. "Sorry... someone said that we should...."

"Well, they were wrong. Unless they can magically repair muscle tears... he can't work out every day!"

"Okay. Understood," Blaise said with his hands up.

Draco looked at her facial expression from the side and knew she meant business. Blaise apologized, again, and practically ran away from the muggle.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But he seems to be the one taking care of you. So, I wanted him to understand me."

"Yes... he is," Draco said, nodding.

"I just want the best for you, dear."

"Thanks," he said, and she started in on his massage.

It took a while, and though she was a relative stranger, she was good at her job. He fell asleep. When he woke up, he didn't know whether it was minutes or hours later, but he heard voices and slowly, with wobbly limbs, he got out of bed and grabbed his walker. He quietly inched closer and realized it was Blaise and Bethany in the foyer by the door.

"I don't ask many questions, not with what you are paying me to come here... but... I have to ask something. I'm medically and legally obligated to ask. But I'm unsure if I can ask him... with how he reacts to things. I don't want to hurt him."

"Yes, you should be careful, healer," Blaise said, gruffly.

"Healer?"

"Sorry, doctor. Draco's been through a lot. More than you can imagine."

"I can imagine quite a bit. Those scars... the muscle damage... his emotional state.... He wasn't in a coma, was he?" she accused.

Blaise didn't respond immediately. "No. But he's free, now. He's seeing someone for his... mental stuff and two other doctors. Don't think that I don't take his welfare seriously."

"But who hurt...."

"It doesn't matter who did it."

"It matters if they are going to hurt someone else!" she hissed.

Blaise growled under his breath. "They were dealt with."

"What... what does that mean?" Bethany gasped.

"Whoa... I meant that they were arrested, tried and conflicted. It was hushed up by the government. Draco's freedom and his remuneration depends on the 온라인카지노게임 not getting out," Blaise lied smoothly.

It wasn't like the Azkaban trials were in the muggle news, Draco thought.

"Oh... I see."

"That's why you had to sign a stringent confidentially clause even though you're not supposed to tell people. Mandatory reporting is for child and elder abuse. And usually, it had to be ongoing. Draco is free from it, now. You can tell that, right? All the equipment and you being at his beck-and-call?"

"Hmm... other question then... why did you say his freedom?" the sharp-witted doctor asked. "Like it could be... taken way?"

Blaise swore under his breath. "I forgot you didn't know about that. He can't go back, now, anyway."

"Back to where?" she demanded.

"None of your business," Blaise growled.

Draco snorted and stepped out into the hallway, making sure that they heard him. The healer's eyes widened, and she was certainly shocked that he had heard them.

"Draco... I'm sorry," Blaise said.

"You were trying to be quiet. Sleep doesn't last long for me. To answer your question, doctor, I was in prison. The guards did this to me and more. I did stupid stuff when I was 16 and 17... and I got five years in that hell," Draco whispered, looking at the floor. "I'll understand if you want out of being my healer...."

"You need physical therapy. I'm sorry for prying, but I was worried... more than curious. Of course, I'll stay on, if you're not too uncomfortable," she said, quietly. "Do-Do I need to know anything else?"

"I didn't deserve my sentence. I was forced to do things... that I didn't want to do. My father and his boss made me... and people died. I got picked up with them. I never killed anyone. I promise you."

She looked him in the eye, something he had a hard time with usually. "I believe you. Again, I'm sorry... I won't tell anyone, of course, or pry. I'll be back in two days. No workout tomorrow... understand?"

"Yes."

"Until then," she said, walking out of the door.

Blaise let go of his breath. "I am sorry, Draco. I thought having a muggle would be better."

"It is. She doesn't know who I am, and I don't have to worry about her... hurting me. I always have to remember that this is real, Blaise."

"Draco..." Blaise started, but they turned toward the fireplace in the library.

Theo came through, and he was glad Bethany left. Otherwise, they'd have to Oblivate her. "Draco?" he said, smiling.

It was only their second time seeing each other since... everything. He felt out of place standing in the foyer. He didn't like walking like an invalid in front of him. "Hey, Theo. Just seeing my morally upright healer out. She was overly concerned about my well-being."

"I thought that was Blaise's job," Theo quipped.

Blaise grumbled, but Draco nodded to the library to sit down. He was just as sore as before the massage... but his muscles were moving better.

"So... the auditor is sending his final assessment to the Ministry, today. They've already admitted fault, especially with the mountain of proof. So, you'll get at least that... then there's the lost interest... and then damages. It doesn't even cover... A-Azkaban," Theo said, awkwardly but drove on. "There's some debate about what to do with the properties, though. Your mum and dad's? It wasn't just Wiltshire—about ten with smaller manors on them. One property was in central London, too. But the Ministry seized them and sold them off."

Draco raised his head and fumed.

Theo waited to ensure he wouldn't say anything before starting up, again. "Yeah... so... we, rather they, will have to issue a writ to get them back. One was claimed by Ernie... ponce. So, it'll probably add a few charges to him. He's running, though. If he ever comes back, he's going to prison."

"I don't remember them... the properties," Draco admitted.

"Some were investments... others seemed to be vacation houses. Your father used to rent them out. The London property was used by your parents when there was a gala or ball at the Ministry. I can bring pictures of them next time."

"Please... I... might not want to stay at the manor, when I get better."

Theo smiled. "Well, I did see that one was on a lake with no other buildings or neighbors in sight. Quiet."

Draco looked at him and nodded. "Thank you. But the manor is mine, right?"

"Yes, they were trying to sell it, too, but no one wanted...."

"A former Death Eater's house famed for hosting the Dark Lord? I can understand that. I don't want to stay there, and it's my birthright."

"Yeah, but the Aurors inventoried its contents when... your mum passed, and again, at the trial. Those items were returned, and any not found were put on that guy's bill. Here are the few items that were missing. Mainly, your mum's jewelry, though they didn't fetch much."

Theo handed him a list, and Draco said, "Mother hid her best items well. I'm not concerned about them."

"Your solicitors are coming to prep you for the disposition on your other lawsuit. Nothing is needed for this one," Blaise said, smoothly changing the subject.

Draco frowned. "I'm not really interested in talking about it."

"I understand. It'll be the Patils, the chief warlock, their lawyer, and Kingsley. They don't want the public to know the full details, either. They want this suit behind them, too."

"Veritaserum?" Draco asked, worried.

"No. Parvati and Padma won't allow it," Theo explained.

Blaise snorted. "I think it is a ploy to see if they can scare you away from suing them all. Do it, Draco. Make they beg to keep it out of Court."

"Also, I'm refusing to put a gag order in your estate misappropriation suit, so you can talk for as long as you want about the Ministry stealing your inheritance after your mother... passed."

Draco sighed but nodded. The disposition was next week, and he could handle it. "Thanks, so how is work?"

Theo's adventures after the war lasted all the way to lunch. Draco was happy for him, though Theo's social activities had been limited. His father had been a Death Eater and had died in prison. Theo had asked if Draco had seen him and he truthfully hadn't. Theo's father was nearly seventy, so Draco couldn't imagine them abusing him like they had him. But his father had died, most likely due to neglect and malnourishment. Theo said that the Aurors did an autopsy after the investigation started, but they found that the cause of death was inclusive. They did note the poor body weight and muscle mass, however.

Theo wasn't close to his father, but he, like Draco, still felt a familial connection to his father, despite their fathers' decision to support the Dark Lord, again. However, Theo never felt comfortable enough to find a partner, nor did many people see past his hi온라인카지노게임. Gringotts had no such political inhibitions. Theo did his job and did it well. They cared about profit, and the Ministry wrongly removing galleons from their bank, had offended them, too. They lost out on profits and were adding their full support to the audit.

They ate lunch with Neville and discussed the Werewolf Aid Fund gala they were going to attend in a few days. Blaise had purchased tickets for it, and he got four invites to Madam Marchbanks 100th Birthday party next week. Both were significant public events with reporters in attendance, and it was all part of The Plan™ to build Draco's social profile. Theo agreed to come as well to provide support.

When they were done eating and planning, Theo returned to work, and Blaise asked if Draco would work today.

"Yes... but can we stop at my house, first?" he asked, looking at him. He couldn't Apparate, and the manor no longer had a floo port.

"We can? Are you sure, though?" Blaise questioned, worried. "Maybe Joel can...."

"No, Theo reminded me... and I should see it. Harry said that my m-mother left a letter."

Blaise's eyebrows rose up. "Oh. Sure. I'll take you. Ready?"

"Yeah, let's go. Thanks for lunch, Neville and Nimi," he said, getting up.

Blaise led him to the front door and out of the wards, before Apparating him to the Malfoy Manor gates. Blaise shivered. "Just hurry, please. Sorry, it just feels ominous here."

Draco shuffled forward on his walker, not hurrying, but not stopping to check the grounds either. The terrace was on the back of the house anyway, and he had seen enough of it. They walked into the front door. The air was still dusty and old like it was last time. Harry had told him he had followed the footprints and the wheel tracks around the house when he came. The tracks were still there, though dusty as well.

He could see the tiny house elf prints, his wheelchair marks, several bootprints and... Harry's footprints. He could tell that they were Harry's as they had no tread left, and Harry never went out shopping unless it was dire need. His shoes were extremely well-used. He looked down the hall where his mother's portrait was and didn't think he could handle his parents right now. He didn't think that he needed anything on the first floor today... but he also didn't want to be carried or magicked up the steps.

"Blaise... would you go change the wards, so I don't get any more uninvited guests."

"I can... but..." he started, not wanting to leave him.

"Please. I'll be fine."

"It will take several minutes to strip the old ones off, and you are going to go up the stairs," he said flatly.

"I'll be fine," he repeated.

Blaise sighed and went back outside to the ward's threshold. Most were gone anyway, removed when the Aurors came. He cast a Lightening Charm, which Blaise had been hesitant to teach him. Harry had told him to avoid it, but he wouldn't make it up without help. He abandoned his walker and slowly climbed the staircase gripping the handrail for support. He then walked to his room, swaying slightly from his lack of balance. He hadn't walked very often without his walker.

His room was dim, but he lit up the light posts with his wand. He saw fewer prints in here, but he saw Harry's had gone right up to his nightstand. It looked like he sat down on his bed. The other tracks went around his room, but his eyes landed on his mother's card. He walked to his table and slowly picked up the letter. His fingers were trembling as he opened it and read.

His mother apologized, and talked about what his father had said happened, that she couldn't see him broken and unresponsible. She wrote about her nightmares, walking the empty halls, and not speaking to another soul in the year that he had been gone. Draco could feel how miserable and alone she was. Being home alone for a year with no one was just as brutal. His eyes watered as she apologized again and again, and talked about remembering when he was happy and free. She didn't think that he was ever coming back.

He sat down on the bed, his emotions overtaking him as he read and re-reread her letter. He should have been here for her. He should have... but... there wasn't anything he could have done. Maybe escape as soon as Voldemort dropped to the floor? He should have realized that they were all doomed. Father... mother... son... all supporters of the Dark Lord. At least she never saw that place... that would have broken her... and him.

He took a deep breath, gently folded the paper back up and put it into his robes. He turned it over in his hands and really processed that she was gone. He still had her portrait, though, but he wasn't ready for that conversation. Maybe he would ask Blaise to give her a message. The other portraits will pass on that he is there. Thankfully, she hadn't come to find him. He needed time, and his father would be there, too. He didn't have that much confidence.

Besides, Harry told her that he was alive, talking and going to walk, again. Harry had faced his father for him, too. He had even threatened to destroy the painting if Draco wished. But some part of him cared about his father, but he didn't want to keep being abused by him, either. Harry would be there... hopefully. Bloody hell, he thought as he recognized his fear that Harry might not forgive him. Harry was very forgiving, but he also would be worried that he had been hurt too much.

What if he doesn't believe me? his mind whispered painfully. Harry might push him away... and he couldn't stand that. He would have to beg... and give him time. He could woe him, too. The other problem was convincing Harry that there was nothing wrong with getting together. The Plan™ would work. He was very convincing... and the board wouldn't likely try to fuck with Harry, again. The last members who did got fired.

Perhaps Harry might not believe that he did love him. Draco could hear Harry's excuses now. "You only love me 'cause I healed you," future Harry would say.

Preposterous! Harry was his refuge. He saved him from Voldemort, from the fire, from a life sentence in that hell, and Harry protected him from going insane. All he thought of in Azkaban was Harry... because he always liked him... loved him. Merlin... he always wanted Harry. He was all he thought about at school... that and how to annoy him. He smirked at the vividly detailed plans he had devised to mess with Harry over the years. He loved Harry fighting back.

He sighed, and then a thought came to him. His journal! He had forgotten about it... but he remembered that he had left it behind in his haste to return to school at Easter before the battle. He got up and lifted the mattress where the secret crevice was, but it was gone. He frowned. The Ministry or McGrath wouldn't have taken it, and besides, you have to sit on the bed to open the secret compartment.

He looked at the floor... at Harry's footprints... and laughed. Harry took it. But he knew that Harry didn't open it. It was hexed, too, and he would have felt it immediately if Harry had opened it. Draco thought about it, and his concerns about Harry not believing him vanished. He walked back to the staircase with a smile. The Plan™ was going to work out fine.

We're getting closer....