CHAPTER 68 - TREATMENT

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TW: graphic panic attack

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They slept in the forest, though by the time the dark blue sky lightened, Harry woke to his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, and only after several seconds did he realize why he was so anxious. His throat closed.

He did his best to keep himself steady, as Draco was up against him, but it was hard to do. I don't want to go, I don't want to go, I don't want to go.

He could always pretend that he was sleeping... He could just take the alarm spell off of his pocket watch and just say oops, I missed it. And then he wouldn't have to go to treatment.

Calm down your breathing, Harry thought, but that made him choke more. The anxiety was as intense as before Draco's memory loss—shouldn't he be done with this? This torture? Voldemort wasn't about to pop out of nowhere and murder them. But it felt like it.

He whimpered, and Draco shifted.

Fuck.

Draco took in a deep breath, and then opened his eyes, seeing the panic on his face.

"You okay?"

Harry thought about lying at first, because why wouldn't he? But then he thought, why would he. "I-I don't... I don't want to go, I..."

"Oh, Harry," Draco said, holding him tighter than just the loose cuddling they had spent the night. "It's all right. It's okay to be anxious. What are you so worried about?"

"I don't want to go," Harry choked. "I don't want to feel like this anymore, but I'd rather feel like this instead of have something awful happen."

"No no no, Harry, there's no reason for you to feel like this all the time. You don't need to 'tough it out' or whatever you think. You don't need to live like this."

"But I'm better now. I don't need to go. I can recover on my own. I'm not sick enough anymore."

"Harry," Draco said softly. He reached out and combed his bangs behind Harry's ear. "I know you're scared, and being away will be tough. But we made plans to keep ourselves safe. And you're going to a very safe place. And I'm in a very safe place with all the tools I need to stay safe. The person who attacked me is nowhere near me. No one else will see me because I'll be under the cloak. You deserve to eat in peace, and you deserve to not have so many flashbacks. You deserve to enjoy laughter and to be healthy."

"But what if they force me to stay in a psych ward? What if I'm that crazy—"

"You're not crazy, Harry. You're injured. Your brain has an injury and you can work through it so it can heal." Harry sniffed, though nothing calmed him. He could still feel the anxiety squeezing his chest. "You just have some broken systems that make you feel this way. Professionals who have dedicated their lives to helping people like you are happy to help you. And if you feel unsafe, you can leave. You're choosing to go. Future you will be so thankful you did."

Harry nodded. He found Draco's hand with shaking fingers and laced them together. Then he thought, time to get up. But he couldn't, and he looked into Draco's eyes desperately.

"How about we talk about all the reasons of why you want to go?"

Harry's lips quivered. "I want to play Quidditch with you."

Draco smiled. "That sounds amazing. You'll get there one day."

"I want to eat a Treacle Tart—it's been years at this point. I couldn't imagine myself having one without a breakdown."

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