"You know you can stay as long as you like," Elle said, following Draco out of her flat onto the landing.
"I appreciate you letting me stay-" Draco said.
"I know my brother was a wanker to you the other day, but you shouldn't mind him," Elle said.
"It's fine, Elle," Draco assured her. "It's only temporary, and if things don't work out, I might need to move back in anyway, so enjoy your freedom while you have it."
Elle sighed, "I'm going to have to make my own tea, then?"
Draco laughed. "I can always stop by every morning and brew you a cup."
"Shut up," Elle said lightly, smacking his arm.
"I'll come back and visit whenever I can," Draco said.
Elle smiled faintly, "We can survive without you, you know."
"Of course. You lot are the strongest people I know," Draco said, "The thing is, I consider you friends and would like to see you."
Elle laughed and hugged him. "Are you going to tell everyone?"
"If they're around, but I'm sure you'll pass on the gossip to everyone else," Draco said.
"I'm not a gossip," Elle said.
"You're the worst gossip I've ever met, Elle. Don't ever change," Draco said.
Elle rolled her eyes and leaned over the railing to wave him off.
Draco had come by earlier while Elle was still asleep to shrink down his mattress and stuff it into his pocket. He had pretended to come back for the rest of his things which amounted to the clothes he had stolen from Potter and his old winter cloak. He hadn't been able to bring himself to throw away what was left of his alcohol, so he had left it in the back of a cupboard Elle wasn't using.
He walked around the back of the building and took out his wand, looking around half-heartedly to make sure no one was around before he apparated to Potter's apartment.
It looked exactly like Draco remembered from the last time he was here. Potter had changed the wards to let Draco in, but he didn't think Potter would be here. He had a job, theoretically.
Potter had offered him the couch, which was very comfortable, but Draco wanted at least a small piece of something that was just his own. There was a tiny hallway separating the kitchen from the bathroom. The bathroom door opened inward so he wouldn't be in the way. Draco took his mattress out of his pocket and resized it in the back corner, adding a new cushioning charm to make up for the shitiness of the mattress.
He leaned his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to try and ease the throbbing pain behind his eyes, but it was no use. Draco decided he had done enough for what felt like a year and kicked off his shoes before crawling onto the mattress, covered only by a fitted sheet worn thin from repeated cleaning spells. Draco wasn't sure where his pillow had got to. He must have left it at Elle's.
Draco laid down, already regretting his decision to do this and be here. He wanted to be back in Elle's flat with his half a bottle of whiskey and almost empty bottle of rum. He kept putting off finishing the rum, but he would gladly do so now. But that would require moving, and he would rather die. So he curled up in a ball and closed his eyes as a wave of nausea rolled over him.
"Malfoy? Are you awake?" A voice called from somewhere.
Draco didn't answer. Sweat crawled down his neck and back, soaking through his thin t-shirt. His hands kept shaking, and he clutched them tightly to his chest to try to make them stop.
"Really? Here?" Potter said, his footsteps stopping outside the hallway entrance.
Draco opened one eye and glared up at Potter. "You have a guest room I don't know about?" he asked, his voice cracking and rough.
Potter's eyes narrowed, and he moved closer, kneeling down beside the mattress, "You look like shit."
"And now you're stealing my lines," Draco muttered.
"Do you need to go to St. Mungo's?" Potter asked, hovering close like he wanted to check on Draco whilst also trying not to touch him.
Draco shrugged one shoulder. He had gone too long without alcohol before but always managed to get a drink before it got this bad.
"...You're going through withdrawal, I think," Potter said.
"Genius deduction, Auror Potter, they teach you that in auror school?" Draco muttered.
Potter sighed, "Why are you so difficult?"
"I'm not difficult; you're a moron," Draco said.
"Get up," Potter said.
Draco considered this and decided that was the last thing on earth he wanted to do, right after moving and breathing and existing.
"Get up," Potter repeated, "I'm taking you to Mungo's."
"No," Draco said, trying to squeeze himself into an even tighter ball.
Potter sighed in frustration, "I could make you, you know."
"You can't save me against my will; that breaks the bargain," Draco said.
Potter scrubbed a hand through his hair with a muttered, "fuck" under his breath.
"Shouldn't have promised me whatever I wanted," Draco said, almost laughing and then shuddering and taking a deep breath, hissing it out through his teeth as his stomach lurched.
"You know they probably have some sort of potion to help with all this, right?" Potter said.
Draco didn't respond.
"You can't like feeling this sick. You never had a tolerance for much of any sort of pain in school, or discomfort for that matter. Or inconvenience," Potter said.
"I learned," Draco said.
"For spite, though-" Potter said thoughtfully.
Draco smiled faintly.
"-I can imagine you doing quite a bit out of spite." Potter sighed, "So what do you want?"
"Not this," Draco muttered.
"This what?"
"This everything," Draco said, glaring half-heartedly at Potter.
Potter almost laughed but just managed to catch himself. "Malfoy, if you want this to be less shitty, you're going to have to go to St Mungo's."
Draco turned his face into the mattress. He could just imagine how they would look at him, how he would be treated by the healers there.
Potter shifted his weight, a floorboard under his feet squeaking in protest.
"Come on, Malfoy," Potter said, "Want me to carry you like a princess?"
Draco huffed a faint laugh, "Damseling me again, Potter?"
"If it works," Potter said.
Draco rolled onto his side, "I want a danish."
"A Danish?"
"Raspberry is my favourite," Draco said, "with cream cheese."
Potter smiled and tried to turn it into a frown, "Anything else, princess?"
"Coffee."
"Done," Potter said.
"And a kiss?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
Potter snorted in amusement, "Come on, Malfoy."
"At least help me up," Draco said, managing to get to his knees.
Potter caught his arm and pulled Draco to his feet. He had a strong grip and easily balanced Draco against his swaying world.
"Ready?" Potter asked.
"I think apparition might kill me," Draco said, holding onto Potter's sleeve like a lifeline.
"I'll take that as a yes," Potter said and apparated them.
Draco threw up in the middle of the atrium. Unfortunately, it had barely touched the floor before a mediwitch vanished it with a cleaning spell. He felt rather disappointed he hadn't managed to ruin someone's shoes. He was in a mood to spread his misery around.
The atrium was crowded, with the welcome witch, busy healers, mediwitches, and quite a collection of sick people. Draco had expected to be the centre of a storm of malicious glares and muttered curses, but it seemed everyone was far too distracted by Potter being in their midst. Some of them stared at him with open-mouthed awe. They whispered about him and pointed like he was a particularly rare and interesting zoo animal.
Potter was pretending very hard not to notice. His expression was carefully blank and focused on the welcome witch at the front desk, but Draco was close enough to see the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.
Potter leaned across the desk to speak with the welcome witch in quiet, hushed tones. Draco wondered if this would end up in the paper and what they would say; what would people think about Harry Potter being seen with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed some young woman watching Potter's back with stars in her eyes, shifting nervously from foot to foot. She took a few hesitant steps towards them, screwing up her courage until she finally noticed Draco at his side and stopped dead in her tracks.
"This way, Malfoy," Potter said, tugging on Draco's arm until he started moving again.
They walked down one of the back hallways. Every now and then, Potter paused to look at signs on the walls. Draco spent every brief respite closing his eyes and wishing for death.
The number of people in the hallway dropped the further they walked, and the lighting charms got weaker and occasionally flickered overhead.
A final and ominous set of double doors was marked by the plaque at the top that read 'MIND HEALING WING' in all caps.
"I feel like I'm going to be smothered in my sleep if I stay here," Draco muttered.
"You are not," Potter said, heading towards a wide scuffed desk.
Draco shrugged, trailing behind him, "There are worse ways to die."
There was no one at the front desk. Potter leaned over to look behind the desk, then glared down the hallway, "Hello? Anyone here?"
A door clicked open further down the way, and a woman looked out and then hurried down the hall to the desk. She was very short, maybe five feet tall, and looked Filipina, with dark brown eyes, her straight black hair cut into a cute bob. She was wearing the pale yellow robes of the mind healers wing, and her name tag read Iris.
"Hi! Sorry! One of our receptionists is out sick, so we're a little short-staffed," Iris said cheerfully.
"That's alright," Potter said, "The welcome witch told me to come back here. But this can't be the right place. Malfoy needs a potion or something, not a mind healer."
Iris grabbed the chair and spun it around, resting her knee on the cushion as she picked up a folder stuffed thick with paper, "I hope I'm not overstepping, but are you here for our detox program?"
"I'd also take a killing curse to the forehead," Draco said, slumping on the top of the desk.
"Understandable," Iris said, her eyes crinkling at the corners like she was hiding a conspiratorial smile, "Well, you're in the right place then. For the detox anyway, I can't help with the other one."
Iris flipped open the folder and took out a packet of papers. She frowned slightly to herself before setting them on the desk. "In order to take part in St Mungo's monitored, medi-magic detox, you have to make a commitment to a minimum of three months of therapy, twice a week group therapy and at least four one-on-one meetings with one of our mind-healers."
"I'll take death," Draco said.
Potter was unimpressed and ignored Draco, "Don't mind him. Malfoy has a thing for dramatics."
"I do not," Draco muttered.
"If it were up to me, I'd rather give people all the help they need and just encourage them to make use of our therapy programs. I'm always afraid putting such stipulations in front of treatment might result in someone suffering through something they don't have to." Iris picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk absently, "But it's the council's decision, and they give us our funding, and that's stretched thin as it is."
Iris slid the papers in front of Draco, "I know you don't feel well, but please take your time and read through this carefully. I'm happy to help as well as your advocate if you have any issues."
"Advocate?" Potter said.
"You are here as Mr Malfoy's health advocate?" Iris asked.
Potter's brow furrowed and he shook his head.
"Because if you're not family or acting as his health advocate, I'm going to need you to step back," Iris said.
"What?" Potter said.
"We take our patient's privacy very seriously," Iris said.
Potter looked from Iris to Draco and then shrugged, walking away from the desk and sitting in one of the stiffly upholstered orange chairs along the wall.
"Do you have any questions?" Iris asked.
Draco tapped the paper, "It says it can take anywhere from three days to weeks?"
"Well, we treat all kinds of addiction, from muggle to magic, and they all require different care. Each person is unique as well," Iris said. She leaned back on the chair, half kneeling, half standing.
"I can't be here that long. Three... five days at the most," Draco said.
"Well, what are you withdrawing from?" Iris asked.
"Alcohol," Draco said.
Iris nodded, "That shouldn't be a problem so long as no complications pop up. I'll make a note in your file."
"I have a file?" Draco asked.
"You do now," Iris said with a smile, "Now, let's get you checked in."
Draco spent the next couple of days in a haze. There were potions that put him to sleep and potions kept him fed; potions that settled his stomach and numbed his pain. It felt like a fever dream that he couldn't quite wake up from.
Draco's eyes slowly focused on the white plastered ceilings as the last of the potions were wearing off. The lighting charms were doing an uncanny job of mimicking the painfully bright halogen lights found in many muggle buildings. He pushed himself up with a groan and rubbed his hands over his face, feeling a faint scrub of stubble under his fingers.
"Oh, you're awake," A voice said, sounding profoundly disappointed.
Draco looked over at the bed next to his. Sitting on top of the bed, legs crossed, elbows propped on her knees, was the most exhausted human being Draco had ever seen in his life. The woman's long black locks fell in front of her shoulders and face, only partly obscuring her bloodshot eyes and blending in with her dark brown skin.
"You're watching me sleep?" Draco asked, his voice rough from sleep.
"Living vicariously through you," She said, blinking painfully slowly. "Going off sleeping potions."
"Oh," Draco said. He glanced around. They were in a long narrow room, beds against one wall. Most of the beds were obscured from their neighbours and the rest of the room by screens. His bedside neighbour had apparently moved the screen between their beds.
"Can't fall asleep normally anymore. Feel like I'm losing all my marbles," the tired woman said.
"Well, you're in the right place for it," Draco said.
The tired woman sighed, "I guess."
At the end of the long ward, the door opened with a soft click, and Iris slipped inside, walking straight to Draco.
"Good morning!" Iris said cheerfully, "Or afternoon. Whichever you prefer."
Draco pulled his feet back as Iris sat on the end of the bed.
"How are you doing today, Jasmine?" Iris asked the tired woman.
"Like this is hell, and I am being punished for all eternity," Jasmine said.
"Have you been meditating and working on your mindfulness exercises?" Iris asked.
"My eyes feel like they're full of ground glass," Jasmine said flatly.
"That we can do something about," Iris said, "Go to the mediwitch and get some eye-soothing solution. It will help. And maybe some camomile tea?"
"Fine," Jasmine slowly slid off the edge of her bed, bare feet slapping loudly on the tiled floor as she went down to the end of the ward.
"How are you feeling, Mr Malfoy?" Iris asked.
"Well enough," Draco said, "Will I be able to leave?"
"Let's see..." Iris said, drawing her wand. She cast a series of spells Draco didn't recognise, each one bathing him a different aura.
"I knew you were a healer," Draco said, smirking faintly.
"Oh?" Iris said.
"I suspected it when we met, but I thought it was funny, Potter treating you like a receptionist," Draco said.
"That was a bit funny, wasn't it?" Iris' eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled.
Draco raised an eyebrow, "It didn't bother you?"
"I have better things to worry about," Iris said, "Besides, I'm sure Mr Potter has forgotten about me by now; there's no point in taking it personally when he didn't mean it personally."
Draco blinked, "That's... I wish I could think that way."
Iris flicked her wand and dispelled the spells around Draco. "So, what are you in such a hurry to get to?"
"What?"
"When you first came here, you said you could only stay three to five days," Iris said.
"How long has it been?" Draco asked, suddenly worried.
"Four days. No need to worry," Iris said.
"Oh... good," Draco said, relaxing.
Iris looked at him expectantly.
"...It's- I usually get groceries for Mary-"
"Mary?" Iris asked.
"She lives in my apartment complex," Draco said.
"And you get her groceries?" Iris said.
"She has trouble getting around. If she fell, she might get hurt," Draco said.
"Hmm," Iris said, tilting her head, "She asked you to do this for you? Is there no one else who could do it for you?"
"I- No, I volunteered. Mary wouldn't ask; she's stubborn like that," Draco said, stumbling over his words, feeling off-balance. "Why are you asking?"
"As your designated mind-healer, I want to get to know you," Iris said.
"You are?"
"I am," Iris said, her smile growing. "Have you ever talked to a mind healer or therapist before?"
Draco shook his head.
"I promise I don't bite," Iris said.
Draco huffed a smile.
"You seem very different now from when we first met," Iris said.
"Oh, that's Potter's fault. He brings out the worst in me," Draco said with a frown.
"Hm, so you don't think it's a difference from being sober?" Iris said.
"No," Draco shook his head.
"But Mr Potter, he 'brings out the worst in you'?" Iris said.
"Obviously," Draco said.
"You went to school together, didn't you?" Iris said.
"Yes," Draco said warily.
"So, then maybe this 'worst of you', is it more of a reflection of who you were at school with Mr Potter?" Iris asked.
Draco made a face and shrugged flippantly, "I was young and stupid."
"We all start out young and stupid. That's part of growing up," Iris said.
Draco snorted, "And do we all start out blood suprematists that end up on the wrong side of the war?"
"You weren't the only child in that war, Draco. But you were a child." Iris said, "We are the product of our upbringing, and quite often, it can take us a long time to become our own person."
Draco narrowed his eyes.
"So..." Iris smiled and looked up at the ceiling, tapping her finger against her chin theatrically, "What would you say to the boy you were if he was right in front of you?"
"Stop being a little prick," Draco said flatly.
Iris smiled briefly, "That's a good start. But I'd like you to remember that boy as he was, for all his faults. Remember his hopes and dreams, the things he yearned for-"
Draco frowned.
"-remember the games he played and the things that upset him-"
"What's the point of this?" Draco asked.
"Remember that little boy and imagine if you could talk to him right now, would you tell him to stop being a prick?"
Draco's frown grew.
"Would you tell him he was the worst in you?" Iris asked.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the sting of tears and looked away. "What's the point of this?" he asked stiffly.
"That there's nothing wrong with having compassion for the child you were. Remembering that you were a child," Iris said.
"I thought you said you didn't bite," Draco groused, rubbing his eyes.
Iris laughed.
"That stung quite a bit."
"But it's the good kind of pain," Iris said.
Draco glared at her.
"I promise," Iris said. "I'm not saying you can't regret what happened in the past and grow past it but hating an entire facet of yourself-"
"That's not me anymore," Draco said.
"Not exactly you, but it's still a part of you. Everything we live through becomes a part of us and changes who we are, not always but-"
"Not always?" Draco said.
Iris sighed, "I hate talking in absolutes. Very few things in the world are absolute... except maths, and I've never been very good at maths."
Draco smiled faintly.
"I just think it's healthier to accept those parts of ourselves that give us the most difficulty because you can't work through something you won't even acknowledge is there," Iris said.
Jasmine padded back over and threw herself face-first onto her bed with a groan.
"This was a good first meeting," Iris said, "I think I'm going to put you in my new group. We'll meet here twice a week, in the mind healing wing, conference room four."
"...Alright..." Draco said, hesitantly. "Which days? And... what's today?"
"I'll get you a calendar and a copy of the schedule." Iris smiled and stood up, "Come on, I'll get you checked out, and we can go over a few more things."
Draco slowly slid his legs off the bed, his body stiff and aching from the long bed rest.
"And Jasmine, when I come back, we're going to have a chat," Iris said.
Jasmine groaned into her pillow.
"Unless you manage to fall asleep, of course," Iris added.
Jasmine added a muffled, 'oh fuck off'.
"I always enjoy our talks as well," Iris said.
Draco went from St Mungo's straight back to his apartment block and Mary's door. He bought Mary all the groceries she might need and let her cajole him into coming inside. He lost track of time as Mary served him tea, biscuits, and simple sandwiches made with shaky hands. Draco listened to the latest news about her family, who had called a few days before, and then to a recap of all Mary's programs. Draco had hardly watched any television himself, he had never bothered to get one of the bulky plastic boxes, but he kept up with several shows through Mary. He had trouble keeping all the names and plot lines straight, but it was interesting in messy a chaotic way.
When he finally excused himself, it was already dark outside. Draco walked around to the back of the building, each step slower than the other. He looked up at the sky, deep blue-black with only a handful of stars pressing through London's light pollution.
There was a thump ahead of him as a scraggly looking cat scrambled out an open bin and dropped onto the pavement. Its long white fur was dirty and starting to mat. It might have been beautiful once. The cat stared at Draco, frozen in place for a moment before laying back its ears and hissing at him.
Draco stared at the cat. He didn't want to go back to Potter's stupid flat. He didn't want to see Potter's stupid grumpy face either. Draco frowned to himself because the idea of coming back to Potter's flat and finding it empty was even worse. And god, he wanted a drink. Draco groaned under his breath. His head was starting to hurt.
The cat startled and bolted into the darkness.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to focus long enough to apparate to Potter's flat.
Draco landed in the middle of the kitchen. Potter jumped up from the couch, wand in hand and pointing at Draco in a split second.
Draco froze, his heart slamming into his throat.
"Malfoy?" Potter said. An open magazine slithered off the couch cushions onto the floor.
Draco caught his breath and scowled at Potter, "As opposed to all the other people you have staying here?"
Potter dropped his wand back down to his side, "I didn't know you'd be released so soon." He frowned and then looked out the window, "It's late."
"Brilliant deduction, Auror Potter," Draco said sarcastically.
"St Mungo doesn't release people at night," Potter said. "What have you been doing?"
"I was busy," Draco said.
"Busy where?" Potter asked.
Draco's brow furrowed, "What- Why do you care?"
"I'm-" Potter sighed, looking embarrassed by the words coming out of his mouth, "-supposed to be saving you."
Draco's expression didn't change.
"That was the deal we made," Potter said stubbornly.
"I was helping out Mary. From my apartment block," Draco said stiffly.
Potter's eyes narrowed, "No hook-ups."
"What?"
"We agreed. You'd stop drinking and sleeping around," Potter said.
Draco stared at him, "With Mary?"
"Malfoy-"
"MARY?" Draco said with delighted dismay and a peel of laughter.
"What...?" Potter said.
Draco tried to stop laughing, wrapping his arms around himself and squeezing.
Potter raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.
Draco took a deep breath, "Mary is over seventy, Potter." He started giggling again, "She's decidedly not my type."
Potter blinked and managed a very poetic, "Oh...."
Draco started laughing again.
Potter dipped his head, rubbing his hand through his mess of hair, "I get it, I get it. Very funny."
Draco took a few shaky breaths.
"Why are you hanging out with old ladies?" Potter asked.
"I run errands for her, pick up groceries, things she can't manage by herself," Draco said.
"Why?" Potter asked.
"Because," Draco said.
"What are you getting out of it?" Potter asked.
"Tea and biscuits mostly," Draco said.
Potter's brow furrowed.
Draco sighed in exasperation. It wasn't like he could say that Mary told him he was smart and handsome and good. That she hugged him and patted his hand and never expected anything from him.
"She's nice," Draco said.
Potter's expression remained confused.
Draco rolled his eyes, "Well, as fun as this has been, I've been sober for six glorious hours, and I'm exhausted."
He glanced at Potter one more time, not quite able to resist, before walking around to the small hallway and his mattress, where he curled up and dropped into a restless, dreamless sleep.