healing | drarry

five

i miss my tmh obsessed readers

~no pov

"Mione?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you reckon I should go back to work?"

Hermione almost laughed. "Sorry what?"

Ron, however, did not have as much self-control as his wife, and burst out laughing. "I'm sorry but you want to go back to work? Godric, you're insane."

Harry was incredibly confused. "What's so funny about that?"

"You're struggling with your mental health. That's why you quit being an Auror. You said you'd return to work once you were better, and I say this with love, but you are not better. Not yet." Hermione said softly.

"Besides, you hated being an Auror." Ron shrugged. "I know we wanted to be the best Auror duo and whatnot, but you hated the fighting. Yeah, you had a crazy hero-complex that only died down after you started thinking about how much your life sucked, but you didn't like being an Auror."

"What?"

"Yeah. At Hogwarts, you fought to survive. You had to fight. Your entire life you spent fighting because it was either that or die." Ron explained. "But now, now you have the choice to be free from that. You'd be mental to willingly keep fighting. And like Mione said; you're struggling. Continuing to fight is just going to trigger you over and over and-"

"I get it."

Harry fiddled with his fingers for a while. Everything Ron said was true: he did hate being an Auror. He didn't know how much he needed to hear that though. Besides, it was comforting to know his best friend knew him so well.

"What if I went to work somewhere else?"

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Depends what you'd work as, and when."

"If, let's say, in a year, if I'm better..." Harry began. "What if I went to work at Hogwarts... as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?"

The curly-haired brunette smiled immediately. "Oh, Harry, I love it. You'd be perfect for the job. And you have some unofficial experience, from Dumbledore's Army."

"Isn't the job cursed?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, but once Voldemort you know," Harry imitated slitting his throat, "kicked the bucket, the curse was lifted. McGonagall explained it, told me she'd love to see me back. I think she was the best parental figure I've had- well, her and Hagrid."

Hermione grinned. "Another good reason why you should recover. Let this motivate you."

Harry nodded in response, a warm feeling spreading through his body as he found himself with some sort of purpose. 

After his first therapy session of the week, Harry decided to go out for a drink. Ron texted him saying he'd keep Teddy overnight since the Metamorphmagus fell asleep at their place, so Harry had the night for himself.

Going to bars and getting wasted was apparently a shitty coping mechanism, but it was better than some of the other things he'd tried. He tried cocaine once- don't ask me why- and decided never again. He sneezed uncomfortably for days after that.

When he entered the bar, the last person he expected to bump into was Parkinson- and wait, was she with Zabini? It appeared she was. Harry felt nervous at the thought that the third person in the Silver Trio could appear. 

But not a single person around had the platinum blond hair that was so easily recognisable in crowds of people, and Harry sighed. That, unfortunately, attracted the attention of the two people Harry had been thinking about.

"Potter?"

"Zabini?" The brunet replied with the same confusion, despite him having time to react beforehand. 

"So, The Boy Who Lived still lives." The darker man laughed to himself. 

this is wrong. zabini doesn't laugh, not with me. he stares with that blank expression. this is not zabini.

"What's that supposed to mean?" His legs were aching from standing up, since he had walked around until he found the bar for at least half-an-hour. Exercise was good, his therapist said, and he agreed. It helped him clear his head, and he enjoyed walking with music too.

"Sit, Potter." Parkinson tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. She knew how to smile, everyone did, but it was their last interaction that made the simple task seem so unnerving. "We don't bite."

"You do, you snake." Zabini teased, earning a slap from the girl- no, woman- beside him. 

Harry sat and took a moment to properly look at the two in front of him; Zabini was taller than before, somehow, maybe by an inch or two, and had the same short hair, as always. His face was more sharp, defined somehow, and he looked older in a good way.

shit. zabini is hot.

Parkinson was too. Her bob-cut had grown out, thank god, and was just below her shoulders, wavy and lighter than before, but still dark. And it definitely suited her. Just like the man beside her, her face was sharper and less pale. She no longer seemed threatening, and though she failed to smile at him properly, Harry felt comfortable around her.

fuck. they're both hot. does this count as bi panic? 

"You done checking me, or us, I think, out?" Parkinson taunted, though it had no bite to it. She seemed oddly friendly.

"First of all- no, give me a minute. Second, when did you become so.. nice?" Harry realised he sounded like a dick, but the question was inevitable.

"Since we grew up, Potter." Zabini rolled his eyes. "We're not annoying little Slytherin kids anymore. We don't think we own the place, and all that pureblood supremacy shit. War changes people."

war.

"Understandable." Harry nodded awkwardly. He didn't like talking about the war. It took him three months of therapy to finally talk about the war. He was grateful that Etheria was a half-blood, because it meant she was aware of all of the wizarding shit, and the muggle shit too.

pending

"Listen, Potter, I- er," the brunette bit her lip, "I'm sorry, for what I did, in the war. When I said to hand you over... It was selfish, and cowardly, and there's nothing else I can say except I'm sorry, and I'm glad you survived."

The Boy Who Lived was dumbfounded. He never expected to see the woman in front of him again, let alone receive an apology from her. Though it was unexpected, it was still greatly appreciated.

"We all do crazy things to live, right?" Harry smiled. "I fought a bald maniac for seven years. We're all desperate to survive somehow; it's in our nature. It's dumb to base this off of one encounter, but I think you've changed. So, I forgive you."

Harry couldn't help but smile back at the real smile that appeared on Pansy Parkinson's face.