We Met In Detention ✓

Fourteen | Therapist

~Harry's POV

The morning after the whole Veritaserum or Dare situation, I felt like curling up into a ball and then proceed to cry for the rest of my hopefully short life. 

I couldn't tell if Mione knowing my secrets was a giant weight being taken off of my shoulders or if it was another weight added. I know for a fact that I will overthink the fact that she knows for a very long time.

She knows now. Someone knows. The last person who got near to finding out ended up hating me- and I was the one to make him hate me.

What if I have to make Mione hate me? But what if she tells everyone because I made her hate me? She's not like that but what if?

You would think that someone finally talking about a heavy burden on their shoulders would be a relief, and that it would be for the best. 

Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.

It's all so confusing and I feel so conflicted.

And then there's Draco. The whole wand-point scene has replayed in my head over and over again since it happened and then what Mione said.

"And I think he might need to talk to you too."

I've got an idea about what he might need to talk about but I don't know what I would do if it ends up being true.

I continued pacing around my room- what do I do? I have to tell him about what happened so he doesn't persist and get everyone else to worry as well.

Respectfully, the others are quite dim and wouldn't figure it out. Ginny, maybe- Luna, also a maybe. But everyone else? I'm not sure.

Might be underestimating them but I hope I'm not.

What if Vernon finds out I told someone? And the fact that the person I told is a "freak." She's muggle-born, but still. He would hurt Mione somehow. I don't know how he would find her. 

What would he even do? He doesn't stand a chance against the brightest wizard of the century who, might I add, is literally sixteen years old. 

I couldn't defend myself and I'm the most powerful wizard to ever exist-

That's beside the point.

You know what? My inner struggles aren't important right now. I need to be here for Draco. Since it's Saturday and we don't have classes, so it seems like a good idea to go find Dray now. 

Without really thinking about what I was going to do or even say, I barged into the Slytherin common room and went straight to Dray's room. Yeah- I know the password, and where Dray's room is. We hang out in the Slytherin dorms when it's empty.

Let's just say the Slytherins aren't as accepting as the Gryffindors. Well- most of the Slytherins.

Draco has his own private dorm, paid by his father. Personally I think he would prefer to be with people, since he always looks like he feels alone.

Maybe I'm overthinking that, maybe I'm not.

Once I finally walked into Dray's room, I was surprised. He sat on his bed, silent, staring directly at the wall, void of emotion. A blank expression sat on his face but his eyes gave everything away. 

Though his face was blank, his mind was not. 

I knew what he was doing ever so well, as I'd done it time and time again. 

He was blocking out the world and reliving memories. You would hope to think of good memories, the ones that make you feel happy, but most of the time it would be the traumatic memories you recall.

And again, his eyes gave it away; he was thinking of memories that were traumatic and painful. 

His eyes widened and shut tightly, as if he was trying to avoid something. When he opened them he jumped up and shook his head, once again closing his eyes. 

"Dray?" I ask softly, not trying to scare him.

"Harry?" He turns to face me. "When did you get here?" 

"Not so long ago." I walk over to him. Looking up, since there was quite a height difference between us, I ask him something else. "Are you okay?"

He looked into my eyes, contemplating his answer. Anything other than a no would've been a lie, and he knew I knew that.

"I-... No."

Now it's time to become a therapist.

"What's wrong Dray?" I look into his eyes and I can tell he wants to spill whatever shit he's got hidden, but he's awfully anxious.

"I, erm." He quickly changes his attitude. "If I open up to you, will you let your glamour down?" 

"Deal."

He never specified how much of my glamour I should take down. All he's allowed to see is a couple old bruises. I trust him, but time doesn't. 

He can learn the full story later.

By later I mean in eighty years when I'm decaying on a hospital bed.

"Okay, erm, right so." Draco fumbled with his words and his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at me.

"Hey." I gently put his hand in mine. "You don't have to tell me shit. And if you do, take your time. You tell me whatever you feel comfortable with. Don't overstep your own boundaries."

Draco smiles at me and anxiously messes around with his hair.

It's quite attractive to be honest.

No Harry. This is not the time.

"Maybe you should become a therapist." He smirks and starts laughing.

I roll my eyes. "If I make it till then."

His expression changes quickly. "Don't tell me you're going to Avada yourself."

Inside, I'm dying, because I want to in the near future, but also because he's suggesting exactly what I want to do.

"No, I mean if our favourite Dark Lord decides to put a magical beam through my chest and actually succeeds in killing me. If not, then therapy is right up my alley."

We laugh at my effortlessly amazing humour for a minute until Draco starts to talk again.

"I'm ready."

"I'm listening."

pov: u wrote 3 chapters and left them unpublished for when u have a reader who comments a bunch and asks u to continue

#validationismymotivation

#daddyissues

#goaheadandcrylittlegirl