Healing Harry Potter

Chapter 2

"Get away from him, Malfoy!" Weasley growled, and Harry immediately began half-sobbing.

Draco stood up. "Please calm down. You are distressing him more."

"I'm not letting you hurt him!"

"You are hurting him," he said quietly, not letting his anger out. "Lower your wand. I'm his healer in case this horrid-colored robe slipped your attention."

"I'm not letting you be his healer!" Weasley shrieked and Granger calmly walked in, watching him.

"You have no say in that decision. He's been admitted. He's threatened self-destructive behavior and attacked me. He's the hospital's charge until he's been cleared. Put down the wand, now."

"Over my dead body, ferret face!"

"Ron, you're upsetting Harry," she said. "We can figure this out without name-calling."

"I agree, Granger."

She looked at him with those same critical eyes as she did when he had come to bring them to rescue Potter.

"Hermione... after what his dad did!"

Potter put his finger in his mouth and bit down. This needs to end, Draco thought angrily.

"Ron, he saved Harry. He brought us there and did... you-know-what to his dad. Drop it or I'll stun you until you aren't stupid anymore."

Ron slowly lowered his wand. "If you hurt him...."

"Keep your over-sensitive panties on, Weasley, and shut up for five minutes while I fix this," Draco said and sat back down in front of Potter. "Harry? Come on, look at me."

Potter shook his head, but let go of his now bloody finger.

"Come on. Just for a sec... please?" he said, gently.

Harry rocked back and forth, and slowly, ever slowly, met his eyes. A second was all he needed to latch on with a wordless, Legilimens. Potter tensed against the intrusion, but Draco went into his head. He was dismayed at the chaos he found, but he couldn't fix anything then. He settled for what he called Reverse Legilimency and poured his own calm, happy memories of his mother and friends in him. Potter immediately stopped resisting and relaxed, almost stilling, though the tremors were still there.

He checked that Harry was responding well to the memories that would keep him occupied for a while. He didn't know if Harry could see all of it, but he knew that Potter could feel his emotions. That should help him stabilize for maybe a half-hour. They'd have to do many sessions to retrain Potter's thought processes. He broke the connection, and Harry stayed in the same spot, staring ahead at the wall. His hands were still trembling, which was curious. He should have mellowed out completely.

"H-How did you do that?" Granger said, amazed.

Draco turned to face his uninvited guests. "Legilimency has many practical functions."

"You used Legit-a-mancy on him!" Weasley hissed.

"Yes... and you do see he's calm. He'll come out of it in few minutes or so. I just wanted to calm him down. Now, can we speak like adults or do I need to ask security to escort you out?"

Weasley puffed out his chest, but Granger smacked his head. "We can, right, Ron?"

"Ow... yeah."

Draco conjured two padded chairs from them to sit in. They slowly took them, and both stared at him to start. "We have a lot to discuss. First, know that I've been in France since... it happened. I was already in healer school and had just stopped at my father's to drop paperwork off. I had no idea that he was there."

"Likely 온라인카지노게임."

"You can owl Consano and ask when I was there training. We had shared rooms, too. My three dormmates can corroborate that I never left. But that is irrelevant, I took you through my father's wards, and we saved him."

"Why the bloody hell couldn't you tell us? We could have summoned the Aurors to help!"

"I think Gr-Hermione already guessed, didn't you? You believed me... thank Merlin," he said, staring at her.

She seemed surprised at being addressed like that, but nodded. "I suspected some kind of charm."

"Blood-Obediency and Loyalty Charms. He commanded me not to talk about it... or write it. It's a milder form of Imperius, but still difficult to resist. If he had commanded me to kill my mum, I'd be able to fight it. But directly betraying him wasn't an easy thing to do. I've since managed to remove them."

"Is that real?" Weasley asked.

"It is. Also, dark and highly illegal," she confirmed.

"That's my lovely father. It took a lot to fight him that day. Thank you for trusting me, Hermione. I don't think that I would have been able to get the words out. Actions were easier as he couldn't tell me not to do everything. Subtly was essential to the charm, if Severus had suspected, he could have removed it during sixth year."

"Snape?"

"Yeah, he was my Godfather. That was why he accepted the Unforgivable Vow."

Granger and Weasley looked at each other, a little surprised.

"Alright... now... I need to know what happened after...."

Granger had some tears in her eyes. "He pretended he was fine and signed himself out. Illegal potions, drinking, cutting and maniac episodes came within a month of it. He was brought here not too long after. We tried everything. Mind healers, twenty-four watches, Calming Draughts... nothing worked. As soon as he was left alone, he'd disappear or else try to hurt himself. We took his wand away... he learned wandless magic. We committed him here, he knocked the healer out and escaped. We've been watching him for the few years... twenty-four-seven, but he drifts in and out of reality."

Draco nodded. Potter didn't show any sign that he had heard, but he didn't expect him to come out of it. It was a nice retreat compared to the horror he'd been through.

"You both have sacrificed a lot for him... I can tell... but it's not working."

"The other healers said he was broken beyond repair. That we were fools to sign him out of St. Mungo's. Stout... she was creating a special cell for him, with magic-resistant restraints and walls. I couldn't leave him in there alone. It's always so much worse," Weasley lamented, burying his face in his hands and sobbing.

Nothing today had surprised him more than that. Both of Potter's best mates were at their wits' end trying to save him. Course, it was probably feeding more into Potter's broken mind. He knew he was a burden to them.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," he said, and Weasley looked at him, too. "But... I don't think that he is broken beyond repair. I don't think anyone is really permanently gone, unless it's medical."

"But he... loses it... I don't even understand half the stuff he talks about sometimes. He called me 'Aunt Petunia' a few times. Other times he barricades and threatens to kill himself," Hermione said. "And you can't forget the Potions abuse. We don't even know where he gets it from, much less what it is and does."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... we watch him, he doesn't leave and he still gets it. The prevailing theory is that he stashed it into the non-being and figured out how to conjure it back... wandlessly."

Draco was stumped at that one. Conjuring was the most challenging part of transfiguration, and no one could conjure a potion ready-made. Plus, when you vanish it... it's gone forever. It wasn't possible. "And what does it do?"

"That's just it... makes him off his rocker. Not high, happy or calm. It just appears, he drinks it, and fights us tooth and nail to get it. He screams his head off as soon as he drinks it, too. Painful."

"You got some?"

"Defied analysis. Near as I can guess... it has an extremely quick half-life. Its main components disintegrate immediately and I've sent to every potions maker I know. The only thing left is monkshood, which is in hundreds of known potions."

Draco grimaced. "Ever drink it yourself as it appears?"

They both look at him.

"I was asking because, it could be just monkshood."

Hermione stared at him. "He would die if it was. It's pure poison."

Draco stared at her. "I know. That perhaps there is something in Harry counteracting the deadly effects, but enough that he goes through the intense pain of poisoning."

Weasley's jaw dropped. "Why?"

"My father wasn't an amateur when it came to torture, Weasley. Similarly, Harry's draw to drink it, might be a Compulsion Spell. My father had a month to be creative. I imagine he had no intention of killing him, just wanted to damage him as much as possible," Draco said, grimacing as he looked at Harry, still quiet and relaxed.

"You... you think that you can help him?" Weasley asked anxiously.

"I will do my best. Spell Damage is my specialty, and I'm rather good at breaking curses, no exaggeration. I know Legilmency, too. This was just helping him find something tangible to hold on to. Something calm and happy. I haven't ever treated anyone extensively before with it. Mainly just terrified patients involved in attacks and serious accidents."

Weasley let out a breath of relief. "I just want him to not be in pain anymore. I can handle anything... but this... it's been five years of fucking torture."

Granger rubbed his back. "It has, Ron."

Draco grimaced. They were so downtrodden that Draco realized that both had put their entire lives on hold, taking care of their friend. Twenty-four hours a day coverage. "Listen... I want you both to go home and relax for three days. No coming back to check on him, no worrying about him. Go visit your friends and family, take a bath, read a book...."

"We can't do that!" Ron said, looking at Harry.

"You're not abandoning him. You both are at your limits, and you are setting him off with your worrying."

Ron's eyes flashed. "Are you saying...."

"I am! Look, you need a break. He needs you both, but you are not doing him any good when you're this nervous and distraught."

Granger put her hand on him and looked to Draco. "What are you going to do?"

"Read his file, for one. Talk to him and let him start to trust me. I'll do nothing invasive, unless he has an attack. I'll check him for curses and what damage his body has. Do you know why his hands tremble?"

Hermione nodded and whispered, "The Cruciatus Curse."

Draco grimaced. "I see. None of the usual regenerative therapies helped?"

"He wouldn't stay still long enough for anyone to heal him. We couldn't risk potions when we didn't know what he was taking. Monkshood reacts badly with almost all healing potions."

"Right."

"It's been a hindrance to helping him."

Draco nodded. "Healing charms?"

"He freaks out when he sees wands, and he's worse when anyone touches him."

"Yes, he said that was why he attacked... Ron. Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine. It's not the first time Harry's stabbed me. He has vicious night terrors when he does manage to sleep."

"Every time he sleeps?"

"Yeah... every time."

"How much sleep does he get?"

"Only a few hours... every other day practically."

"Hmm... what did the Mind Healers say?"

"Strap him down and sedate him. Nothing helpful," Weasley growled. Granger seemed to let him talk, while she stared at Potter.

"How did you get guardianship of him?"

They both looked at him. Weasley hissed, "We sure weren't going to leave him with his abusive muggles, now were we?"

"Abusive?" he queried. That was news to him.

"Nothing like what your dad did to him," he seethed.

"Ron," Hermione sighed. "Verbal and mental abuse mostly. They starved him and beat him a few times that we know of. His cousin... was the one who told us, we had to get them to sign off on it...."

"And you had him declared... mentally incompetent?" he asked, a little surprised.

Hermione grimaced. "We did. You have to understand that he was back there... all the time. He tried to kill himself so many times. After three days, he could check himself out and disappear out onto the streets. We spent days tracking him, when he did have a wand, and only found him when he had a lethal dose of muggle drugs in him. He would have died within minutes a few times. Plus... he let muggles....

"Hermione don't..." Ron said, covering his eyes.

Draco grimaced and prompted, "He let muggles do what...?"

"Use him. And he found the worst ones that he could find. We didn't have a choice, unless you're arguing that we should have let him die and get passed around."

"I'm sure he would have preferred dying, but I'll concede your point. Has anything helped?"

"Not really. He doesn't like being touched or making eye contact. If you can get him to eat, he's better, but lately, we've had to magically administer nutrient potions. When he's upset, sometimes he curls into his bed and hides in the blankets."

"Being warm and enclosed is generally comforting for most people. What do you do when you're with him?"

"Talk mostly... we tried games... but he drifts out in the middle. Hermione got a muggle telly, which he watched, but random things would trigger him into an episode. Handcuffs, a knife, screaming... we couldn't find some, and it wasn't worth him trying to attack us every time."

"He attacks you... unprovoked?"

Hermione shook her head. "He tries to self-harm, we try to stop him and then he attacks us."

"Ahh... right."

"He can use Protego, wandless, so don't underestimate him. He's never used anything also offensively... except to push people away from him."

"His magic is defensively used?"

"Well, he does use it to escape, too. Can't tell you how many different wards are on my house, now. He used to walk through the walls. Impressive, really."

"Does he attack you more than Hermione?" he asked.

Ron blushed. "Well... yeah. But I'm not...."

"I wasn't implying that you were doing something wrong. Men were the ones who hurt him. There weren't any female death eaters there... that we know of."

"That we know of?" Hermione asked.

"Those people... most didn't live in my father's house. Pansy's dad was there, but did you ever think that her mother or even Pansy could have been there, too?"

"Oh, my Merlin! You're not saying...?" she started.

Draco took a deep breath in. "I don't know, Hermione. It was for a month. I walked in and no one questioned my presence there. It was a usual occurrence."

Ron stared at him and growled, "Do you know anyone who...."

"I don't, Ron. After the trial, I cut everyone out of my life besides my mother... and Blaise Zabini. He moved to Italy, and I doubt he would do that. Theodore Nott was in Azkaban when he "resisted" arrest. He's out now and married to Daphne Greengrass. That's about all I know of the going ons in Britain. I wasn't planning on coming back."

"Why did you?"

"My mother wanted to come home. She married Arnold Peasegood while he was on loan to the French Ministry. But he had to return to England. My mother asked me to come with them and to stop hiding in France," he said, looking down.

"Peasegood isn't a pureblood."

"Really, Ron? That's what you got out of that?"

"Well, I'm just saying...."

"No, he isn't, and we don't care at all. Plus, my mum is pregnant, too."

Hermione looked at him with a smile. "Really?"

"Yes, I'm going to have a sister, and I wanted to be here to watch her grow up. I enjoyed the calm serenity of France, but I was ashamed of what my father did... during the war and especially after. I was ashamed that I'd been a part of it, too. I was hiding, rather than face the scrutiny and harassment that I deserve."

"You don't...."

Draco pulled back his sleeve. The light gray skull and serpent was still there. "I still took this. I called you both unforgivable things. I almost killed you, Ron, and Katie Bell. I helped the others in and set up Dumbledore to die. I should have gone to Azkaban. But Po-Harry saved me... I don't know why."

"You lied for him at the manor, he said," Hermione whispered.

"One lie doesn't excuse everything that I did."

She stared at him. "But you repaid him. You saved him. You didn't spit on his gift, either. You became a healer."

"I had to. I needed to atone for the dark things I did," he whispered.

"Well... I trust you... to take care of him."

Weasley grimaced and nodded. "Right."

Draco glanced at Harry, who was starting to twitch. "Go. Rest and give me a few days with him. You both need a break."

Weasley stood up. "Malfoy... if you do anything... to hurt him...."

"There's no need for threats, Ron. He saved Harry already. But please... let us know if something serious happens."

"I will."

They stood up and Hermione handed him Harry's glasses. She took Ron by the hand and led him out the door. When it was closed, Draco sat in the chair and waited for Harry to come out of it. He cast some scanning spells to determine his current medical condition. He didn't want to break him out of his calm state, so he didn't heal anything. He only had to wait ten more minutes. Harry's pupils narrowed and looked toward him. The shaking started up, again, and he looked confused.

"Malfoy?"

"Draco's fine. Or Healer Malfoy if you want to be proper, Chosen One."

Harry's eyes focused on him intently. His fear hadn't returned, and he was lucid, despite the excessive trembling. "I'm not the Chosen One anymore. Maybe the Chosen Headcase... Malfoy. I'm not calling you Healer Malfoy."

"You just did... but as I said... Draco is fine."

Harry glared at him and shook his head back and forth. "No! No... no..." he repeated, his foothold slipping as he broke eye contact.

"I don't want to be that to you. I am not my father," he said, and Harry flinched.

"No... no... he's... mean... he hurt me."

"I won't. I won't hurt you."

Potter lowered his head and shook his head, again. "Everyone hurts me."

"I said I wouldn't. No straps... no touching. I promise, Harry."

His green eyes flashed up to his. "He never called me that... just... Potter... the Savior. He chained me down. Hurt me."

"I know, Harry," Draco whispered. "Can I heal your cuts?"

Potter shook his head. "Pain... helps. Pain keeps me here."

"I know... but you're bleeding, and you're going to make a mess. I know that you enjoy looking like a dog rolled in mud, but it doesn't look very pleasant."

Potter dropped his jaw and stared. "You... you can't say that to me! Aren't you my healer, Malfoy?"

"Well, you seem to have had a few incompetent ones, so I'm guessing their methods didn't help?"

Harry glared. "I... I didn't like them."

"I'm sure. But you need a change... someone who...."

"What did you put in my head?" Harry asked, suddenly, his eyes fixed on him.

"My memories. Happy ones anyway. Flying, spending time with my mother as a child, Christmas and my birthday... and playdates with my friends."

"Why?" he said, confused.

"Did you enjoy it?" he pressed.

Harry looked away. "It... was nice. I don't have... happy memories."

"I lack many after I started school too."

"Your father wasn't in them," he stated.

"I don't have happy memories of him, and I wasn't going to make you see him."

"I see him anyway. Will you show me him?"

Draco was happy that Potter seemed to enjoy it, but he wasn't going to do that now. "Perhaps later. You are filthy and injured, and I'd be negligent in my duties if I let you remain this way. Can I heal you?"

"You're asking?" Potter said.

"Yes. I'm patient and determined. I would like your permission."

"But you'll do it without it."

"Only if it is life-threatening... or you bleed on me," he said, with a smirk.

Harry seemed confused by the banter, but smiled. "I already did, Malfoy."

He looked, and there were several bloodstains on his robes. "Tut, tut... well, you didn't know the rules then. Plus, it'll give me a reason not to wear these Merlin-awful robes."

"Ugly... I don't like them. Mean people wear them."

"Healers, you mean?"

"They touch me. I don't like it. Burns."

"Well, if I can forego wearing them, it's a win-win. What color shall I wear? Blue? White?"

"Red," Potter said with excitement.

"You want me to wear red robes?" Draco said, faking being offended. "Like a Gryffindor?"

"Yes!" he said, smiling and looking at him.

"That's asking a lot. Red is worse than lime-green."

"Please?" he asked.

"Hmm... I will... if... you let me heal your cuts."

Harry grimaced. "Trap."

"It's a compromise. You're asking me to do something I don't want to do, so I can ask you to do something you don't want to do. Quid pro quo."

"And you'll do it... I can ask for anything?"

Draco wasn't about to give him carte blanche, but he wanted to leave the option open. "I'm open to negotiations, but we have a deal on the table, now. Are you satisfied with the trade?"

Harry stared. "What if you don't keep your end of the bargain?"

"You can bleed on me tomorrow."

Harry seemed to like the challenge but frowned. "What if... the bad stuff comes?"

"I'll be right here."

"Will you... go into my head, again?"

"If I can't calm you down... unless it frightened you?"

"No... it was nice. I felt safe."

"That's good, Harry. Can I heal you now?"

"No sleep?"

"I will not stun you. I can put you in a trance, if you don't want to see."

"No, see it."

"I realize that the English language has a bunch of pesky words in it, but really, try to not sound like a child raised by hippogriffs," he drawled.

Harry pouted, not at all adorably. "I'm not a child."

"Well, act like it, Harry."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" he growled.

"It's Draco. Are you ready?"

He nodded and Draco pulled out his wand. Potter tensed up and broke eye contact. Draco could hear a slight whimper.

"Would it help if I sang something?" he offered.

Harry looked back at him. "Sing?"

"Yeah, to calm you down."

Harry nodded, uncertainly.

"Okay, it's just a lullaby. Just relax. Okay?"

Harry looked down and held his breath.

Draco twirled his wand, but sang gently, "Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot, 'prête-moi ta plume, pour écrire un mot. Ma chandelle est morte, je n'ai plus de feu. Ouvre-moi ta porte pour l'amour de Dieu.'"

Harry visibly relaxed as Draco wordlessly healed his cuts on his body and finger while he sang. He went a little deeper and started regenerating his nerves in his body, too. But that was a longer process.

"Au clair de la lune, Pierrot répondit: 'Je n'ai pas de plume, je suis dans mon lit. Va chez la voisine, je crois qu'elle y est, car dans sa cuisine, on bat le briquet,'" he sang, finishing the next verse.

Harry stared up at him with his mouth open, not even noticing the wand moving. Draco wondered how long he could stretch this out and healed more and cleaned him, too.

"Au clair de la lune, s'en fut Arlequin; frapper chez la brune. Elle répond soudain: 'Qui frappe de la sorte?' Il dit à son tour: 'Ouvrez votre porte, pour le Dieu d'amour,'" Draco almost whispered, and went into the final chorus as he finished with the healing. "Au clair de la lune, on n'y voit qu'un peu. On chercha la plume, on chercha du feu. En cherchant d'la sorte, je n'sais c'qu'on trouva; mais je sais qu'la porte sur eux se ferma."

Harry didn't break eye contact with him, even after he stopped.

"How are you feeling?" Draco asked, trying to keep from smiling.

He snapped out of his transfixed state and checked. Everything was healed up and the blood was gone. "Did you clean me?"

"Yes, you weren't going to assault me with your horrible stench anymore."

Harry looked back up at him, affronted.

"I'm joking, Harry. But you feel okay?"

"Yeah, I... that was amazing... I felt... happy. What was it about?"

"I'm glad. It's just a children's lullaby. They aren't supposed to make sense. My mother taught it to me as a child."

"And you still remember it?"

"Some things say with you... and it made me happy. Plus, I sang it to the children I treated in France. That's where I've been the last five years. They would sing it with me and calm down."

Harry smirked. "So, I'm a child."

"No, but you found it comforting and relaxing. Didn't you?"

"Yeah... will you do it, again?"

"If the situation calls for it..." he said, happily and held out his glasses for him.

Potter frowned, and his emotions changed immediately. "See...? He didn't let me see."

"You should wear them, then. Just to spite him," he urged.

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at him. He slowly took them out of his hand, as though worried that Draco would suddenly grab him. He put them on and blinked, staring at him.

"Still a four-eyed dork," he drawled.

"Fuck you, Mal-" Harry started, then tilted his head. "D-Draco."

He considered that a win for the day.