Healing Harry Potter

Published: 11/1/2020

Draco Malfoy had spent the last five years in France learning how to be a healer at the French national magical hospital in Paris, the Consano. There he had graduated first in his class and become a senior healer by his third year. But his mother, long-divorced from his father, had married, again and they wanted to live back in England. She convinced him to come back to their country.

He had not wanted to. Five years was scarcely enough time to let wounds heal, though both he and his mother publicly split with Lucius long before the life sentence was delivered. He hated being stared at. He hated the whispers and hate mail. But his mother was right, he needed to hold his head up and face the music. He would not be cowed for the things his father did... and the things that Voldemort made him do. The rest of the world may blame him, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

Mungo's was glad to have him, despite his criminal past and faded mark on his arm. His reputation as a healer was not over-stated, and there were slim pickings as far as talent goes for their recruits over the years. Many had been killed in the war. Being a healer didn't spare them from the Death Eaters or the Light side. Head Healer Amara Swelyn was almost begging him to take the position. She really needed a healer in the Spell Damage Ward. The last two had refused to work there anymore and had quit to smaller clinics.

And Draco slightly pressed for an answer, but the administrator took the neutral stance of they didn't like their post. Draco didn't much care for the smaller clinics, nor of starting his own. He liked the big hospitals and liked fixing problems. Spell Damage was a bit like curse breaking, and he enjoyed figuring out the puzzle.

Swelyn introduced him to the distressed floor healer Strout, who looked exhausted and said, "Finally... I've been alone here with just the floor wardens. Congrats! You're in charge, and I'm leaving for a month of personal leave. It's all yours."

She left and Healer Swelyn looked at him. "I'm sorry! We can't seem to keep anyone here long. She's been run-rugged. I really must beg you to stay."

Draco nodded. Out of the calm sea of tranquility of France and into the fire, it seemed. "I will stay. You do need a healer. Am I the department head, too?"

"Of course! Hell, I will pay you double to stay!"

Draco gave a smile, but still was so very off-put by why no one wanted to stay. She showed him his large office and introduced him to his floor wardens, his old housemate Harper and Laura Madley, who was a few years younger than him.

"It's nice to see you, Draco, but I got a few rooms to clear out. Will catch up later, 'kay?" Harper said. "Laura will show ya the ropes."

"That'd be great, Harper," he said and turned to his guide. "I'd appreciate it very much."

"Of course, healer," she said formerly. She eyed him darkly. She knew exactly who he was and what he did and probably resented him for it. He couldn't blame her for it.

"If there is anything you need... just ask, Healer Malfoy," Healer Swelyn said and left him there.

Well, might as well get the awkwardness out of the way. "Look Laura... I know I can't change what I've done, but I'm a great healer, all modesty aside. I want to help people... make up for all the terrible things that I was a part of. I didn't support it or want to... but I didn't want to die, either."

Laura's face went from cold to shocked to embarrassed in seconds flat. "I... didn't...."

"We both know I was a Death Eater and what my father did. Don't lie."

She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I am, too. This is my penance. I don't want to walk on dragon eggs around you. Can we at least be cordial with one another?"

"Yes... it's bad enough with Harper. I just thought you'd be an asshole."

"Not anymore... well... not as much, anyway."

She nodded.

"Please just give me a chance. I'm not my father."

"And I'm a muggle-born, so does that mean anything to you."

"Absolutely nothing. I'm glad to work with you and will let you boss me around for the next few days, while I get situated?"

Laura smiled. "This way, trainee. Got to show you how to purge emulsions and how to organize the supply closet!"

"I look forward to it, my beautiful mentor."

Laura blushed right up, but still bossed him around like a new warden for the next hour. They went to the permanent ward first. She introduced him to his old professor from school, a few other recovering patients and, horrifyingly, to Frank and Alice Longbottom. Salazar, he had never known that Neville's parents were there. Crikey... that probably meant the boy he had harassed worse than Potter would stop by. He'd have to apologize to him, too.

Then she showed him the three open wards, where only about seven patients were in. Nothing serious from the brief she gave. He could probably clear them all today. She didn't take him to them, yet. What didn't any healer want to stay here? he wondered. But then the last ward was the individual rooms. Just as they entered, there was an apparation crack, and a scurry of movement as a bloodied man was rushed into one room by the EMMTs (Emergency Magical Medical transporter). But there was another man who was thrashing as they hauled him into a room.

"Not, again," Laura sighed, and Harper brushed past them and went into the room. "Listen, he's a regular. Violent. They don't let him have a wand, but he's gotten good with wandless magic. So don't let your guard down."

"Regular for what?"

"Anything, really. Drunkenness, potion overdose, suicide attempts and manic outbursts. He must have attacked his caretakers."

"How is that Spell Damage?" he asked.

"The other wards want nothing to do with him. He came here first for Spell Damage and wound up in the Janus Thickery Ward. He'll be back in there, again, after this. Come on. They might need us. He's a handful."

Draco followed her into the room, where they had tied the jerking patient to the bed. He was bloodied, too. His shirt was off, exposing a stomach of cut marks and scars. His arms were no better. Draco couldn't see his face as his head was turned, and his neck was taunt. He was grunting in pain, and his tendons were popping out. Hopped up on some kind of potion, no doubt.

"He's lost it this time! Stabbed his best friend and screaming about nonsense," an EMMT said, checking a cut to his robes. "Almost got me, too."

"Thanks, guys," Laura said, and the transporters filed out.

"I better check him," Draco said and walked to the side of the bed.

"Just be careful. We didn't search him yet," she warned, again. Violent, she had said.

Draco gave her a look and looked down at the man. He tried his kid voice. "Hello, I'm Healer Malfoy...."

The patient's head cranked right to him, and green eyes were squinting at him, like they needed glasses. Before he could even register that it was Harry Potter, the hero himself, the ropes disappeared. Draco was pushed up against the wall, bodily, with something sharp jabbed into the soft spot on his neck. His wand hand was pinned to the wall by Potter's other hand.

"Shit! I told you! Let him go, Harry!" Laura said, getting her wand out.

Potter's enraged, bloodshot eyes stared into his eyes. "Malfoy," he hissed, as raw, undiluted strength pressed against him.

"Easy, Potter," he whispered. "Calm down."

"Harry... he's a healer... we're here to help you!" Laura pleaded.

"Death Eater," he spat.

Draco kept the raging panic under control. "I was, but I'm not anymore. I hated every second of it."

Potter twisted whatever was pointed into his neck deeper, and Draco knew he was bleeding. He couldn't help but notice how much Potter's hands were shaking.

"Harry! Don't!" Laura said, and as she raised her wand, she was suddenly knocked to the floor. Laura was right, Potter had skill at wandless magic, but they weren't going to get anywhere.

"Laura... just leave us. Go out into the hall."

"I'll let security know," she said and slowly getting up and exiting the room.

Draco stared back at the tripped-out Gryffindor. "It's just us Potter. You going to kill me?"

"I should, Malfoy."

"You saved my life once. I suppose you're owed."

Potter looked at him, confused. "The fire?"

"Yep. So, if you really want to kill me now, do it," Draco said, casually. He almost forgot what it was like to be threatened to be killed. He didn't miss the war days where Voldemort and his father enjoyed tormenting and torturing me. The fear of death had long abandoned him.

Potter pressed the knife in further, and Draco leaned his head back into the wall more. "You were there... not the fire... the other place...."

"I was," Draco breathed, now only to look at Potter's crazed eyes with one eye as he turned to find relief from the pain.

He wouldn't forget that day either. No one needed to tell him how Harry Potter became a crazed, violent, potion addict. He saw why. Potter had gone missing not too long after his parents divorced. No one knew where the Savior had disappeared to. He hadn't been seen in over a month when Draco went to his ancestral home to deliver the alimony decree to his former father. He wanted to make sure that his mother was kept in good comfort after dealing with his abuse for the last twenty-five years.

However, he was shocked to find a Death Eater reunion party at his father's house with Potter chained and spread for anyone to enjoy. Shocked was an understatement. Sick, revolted and horrified were other words for it. His father, who apparently had gone completely insane, actually invited him to have a go. He told Lucius to f off and left. He sure as fuck didn't regret immediately finding Weasley and Granger and dragging them to his home to save Harry, either. Potter wasn't in any state to know that, though. Being tortured, starved and raped for a month had destroyed him. He remembered how much Harry was shaking when Draco cradled him into his arms.

"I brought Gr-Hermione and Weasley there. Do you remember that?" Draco said, quietly.

Potter twitched and said, "You called your dad a sick fuck."

"Sounds like something I would say."

Potter glared at him. "And said you were going back to your flat."

"A ruse. I stopped by the house and found out what he was doing. I didn't know, I swear. When I left, I brought your friends back with me. Do you remember it ended a little while later?" Draco said. He had no idea if logic would work on Potter or not.

Potter's eyes narrowed. "Your dad... he liked to make me look at him," Potter growled in reply.

"I gelded him for you," Draco said, and Potter looked at him with interest.

"You did?" his voice was full of disbelief.

"Snape's spell... Severing Curse." The same one that Potter had used on him, but his patient smiled.

"Really?"

"Yeah... I'll get his healer file for you, if you want it. As a healer, and unfortunately as his next-of-kin, I can. Had to come up with an excuse for the Aurors for that one, but they didn't care... after what he did."

"To me." Potter was shaking, badly, now.

"Yes. He was a fucking asshole. I hated him, too, Potter. Please believe that."

Potter thought about it, tilting his head, and nodded. "I remember."

"What?"

"He s-screamed. Then you-you... took off... the chains... and... held me," Potter said, disjointedly.

Salazar, that scene haunted his dreams. That tear-filled moment when his rival, the reason he had been beaten, branded and tortured, clutched his robes, cried and pleaded desperately for help. He didn't hesitate to hug him and protect him while Weasley and Granger wrangled the others.

Draco, with Potter jabbing the sharp point into his neck, slowly turned his head to look at him. Potter's eyes were slightly less deranged, and he looked confused almost.

"You called me... Harry...."

Draco didn't see the point to deny it. "I did."

"You really were there?"

"At the end... I didn't know, I swear, P-Harry. He used to hurt me, too."

Potter jerked, enough to cut him more. "Sorry... he... did that... to you?"

"A few times... but it was usually just the Cruciatus." But Potter flinched, again. "Ow... please? That does hurt."

Harry moved his hand off a little. "But you hate me. Why did you save me?"

Draco squirmed. "He hurt me... because I couldn't beat you at school. It was stupid to blame you." Some tears fell from his eyes. Merlin's balls, he didn't expect to be going this deep into his f'ed up memories on his first day. He knew it was going to be rough, but was definitely not expecting a forced inquisition.

Potter stared at him, but didn't say anything at first. He was trying to understand. "No one helped you?"

"No. My mum couldn't leave the house. I couldn't tell anyone."

Potter, who looked strange without glasses, stared at him. "Why not?"

"Obedience Charms. I literally couldn't tell anyone anything. It took a long time to get those off," Draco murmured, and after a few minutes of silence, he gave it a try. "Please, Harry... let me go. I'm your healer. You're at St. Mungo's."

"I know. I'm not crazy," Potter responded.

"Then why do you have a knife to my neck?"

Potter grimaced. "You're a Death Eater."

Draco let out some more tears. "I didn't want to. He would have killed my mum. They tortured her in front of me."

Potter looked at him, astonished. "Death Eaters hurt me."

"I won't hurt you, Harry."

"People hurt me... they touch me and hurt me. It hurts. It still hurts," Potter muttered, losing focus on him.

"I won't touch you without permission."

"Memories hurt...."

"I can help you recover, Harry."

Potter jolted, almost nicking him, again. "No one can. They're stuck in my head. Pain... pain helps."

Well, that explains the cutting habit, he thought. "I can, but please... you're hurting me."

Potter looked surprised at this and looked down at Draco's neck. He could feel the blood dripping down. Potter seemed a bit guilty and slowly lifted his weapon.

"No magic?" he muttered, now avoiding eye contact.

"Well, I'm going to heal things. It's what I do. But I will not stun you."

"No straps?" he said, looking down.

For a patient who just physically harmed him, and most likely, Weasley, Potter was asking a lot. "I won't if you're calm and give me... whatever it is you have. I will not restrain you."

Potter was still shaking and he nodded. He lowered the weapon while extracting from him completely and letting go of his hand. When Draco held out his hand for the sharp object, Harry dropped it in his palm. It was a piece of a mirror, it looked like. Probably from a WC. His guardians likely didn't follow him in there.

"Thank you. Will you sit on the bed?" he asked, rubbing the cut on his neck. Potter obeyed silently. "Alright, I'm going to heal this."

He stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door open, and mended the cut until it was a pink line. It would heal without a scar. Draco transfigured the loo mirror and went back to his patient, who hadn't moved. He was just sitting on the bed, shaking. Then he heard knocking on the door.

"Healer Malfoy? Are you okay in there?" Laura asked.

"I'm fine. You can tell security to stand down," Draco said, and opened the door. Security was there in curse-resistant vests with wands drawn. "Everything's under control. I apologize for disturbing you."

Laura looked at him. "We need to restrain him and...."

"No one is doing anything. Potter is my patient, and I'll decide what we do."

"Begging your pardon, healer, but protocol...." the security peon started to argue.

"Fuck protocol. I'm not in danger. I have the patient calm and removed his weapon. End of threat," he growled, dismissively and the security wizards scampered.

"But he has violent mood swings," Laura said.

"Thank you for telling me. We will discuss the case at a later time. Please bring me a Tranquility Potion. And his glasses... wherever they are."

"Okay... but he can't have any potions... he takes too many unknown ones."

Draco nodded. He should have remembered that. "Very well. Unless you need me, I'll remain in here."

"We have to have two people in there at all times with him, Healer Malfoy! You saw wh-"

"Laura, please check on the other patients and summon assistance from the first floor if you need help for now. I will treat Mr. Potter alone."

"His guardians won't like this," she said.

"They can go fuck themselves. Until he's not my patient or under duress, I'm in charge," Draco said and slammed the door. He didn't want to argue anymore.

He put about twenty locking charms on the door. Weasley and Granger would show up sooner or later. He turned back to Potter, who immediately looked away like he hadn't been listening. He rocked back and forth, trembling uncontrollably. Talk about a 180. Violent and deranged to meek and uncommunicative. Draco sat on the rollie stool and moved in front of him.

"Alright, Harry... is Harry fine?"

No answer.

"Let's start this over, okay? I'm Healer Malfoy, and I'll be taking care of you for the foreseeable future."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispered, tears coming out.

Draco frowned. "I'm fine, now. No harm done, okay."

"I attacked you."

"And I'm okay."

"And Ron, too," Harry lamented. "I stabbed him... is he alright?"

"I don't know, actually, but I'm sure he's fine, unless you stabbed him in the eye or something."

Harry shook his head. "I am crazy, aren't I?"

"No, you aren't, but you need help."

Potter started crying more. "No one can help. I'm fucked up beyond repair."

"I don't believe that."

"Well, you're stupid."

"That was a pretty lame insult, Potter. I'm brilliant and sexy."

Potter snorted. "I thought you were going to call me Harry."

"You didn't answer, and I do like calling you Potter if the situation calls for it. So, I know that Weasley is annoying, but did you stab him for a reason?"

Harry frowned. "He... he was trying to stop me. I... got the glass."

"The cutting?" Draco said. Harry still didn't have a shirt on.

"Yeah... I didn't want to give it back, and he grabbed me. I just... snapped... I was back there. They were hurting me. I panicked... I'm sorry."

"It's understandable, Harry. You don't have to apologize. You went through a very traumatic experience."

"Now, I'm fucked up. Unable to tell reality from memory... I can't sleep... I can't stop remembering it. I just want it all to end."

"That's not the answer, Harry."

"It happened five years ago. It's death or being strapped down in the ward across the hall. They said they were going to do it. This was my last chance."

"No, it's not. This is my ward, now, Harry. I won't strap you down."

"That wasn't even the worst I can get," he muttered. "I've hurt every healer who's come to this ward."

"Well, we got that out of the way, right? Now, we can start making you better."

"It's not possible," he muttered.

"It is. Reconditioning, counseling and healing. I will be here for you. No strapping down. No stunning."

Harry looked at him. "They always do it."

"Even your friends?"

"Yeah... I go back there when I sleep. I wake up, and I'm still there. I've hurt them a lot. The healers would always leave them."

"I'm your healer, now."

"And you're going to have to do it."

"Well... I promise I won't."

"You can't promise that!"

Suddenly the door burst open, and Weasley came in, his wand up and pointed at him. "Malfoy!?"

"Oh... hello, Weasel...."

So? Keep going? Either way, I'm not going to update this one as much