Written by Frayach on ao3
It's a Mind Healer's worse nightmare to lose a patient to suicide, but Mind Healer Nick Nichols can attest to the fact that it can be even worse. If only Dr. Freud had come up with a sure cure for love.
• • •
"𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕧𝕖 �...
I'd been having tea with my mentor and lost track of the time. I jog down the street, leaping over puddles. I'm almost back to my building when I see a large crowd of people. There's no way to get around it so I slow to a walk. It's started raining again, but the crowd shows no sign of breaking up.
"Expelliarmus!!" a voice shouts. "Up against the wall and show me your hands! Don't try to cast an unspoken spell because I'll know it and make you wish to God you hadn't!"
My curiosity trumps my haste. I push forward as far as I can.
There're two plain clothes Aurors hand-cuffing a man. One I immediately recognise as Harry Potter. There's no way not to recognise him. He and his scar are iconic. You'd have to have lived under a rock for the past thirty years not to know him at a glance despite all the efforts to make himself less conspicuous. He may no longer wear glasses, but anyone with one eye and half a brain can still recognise his jet black hair and, if they're close enough, his striking eyes.
"Where is the hostage?" Harry growls, his face within inches of the suspect's. From the smell, it's evident that the man has pissed himself. Frankly, I would too if I had Harry Potter's wand pointed at my chest. "You have ten seconds to tell me . . . one, two, three . . ."
I have to turn away. I can't handle the sight of blood. I began pushing my way out of the crowd, and then I see him; Draco is in the midst of the throng, standing on his tiptoes like a boy trying to glimpse a parade. His attention is riveted to the scene playing out before him. I breathe a sigh of relief. I'd been dreading his response to my tardiness.
I jab at the lift buttons impatiently. I'm sweating slightly, so I Transfigure one of my gloves into a handkerchief. Once I'm in my office, I take off my coat and sit down in my chair as quickly as possible. I summon my notebook and make a note:
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There's a knock on the door.
"Come in," I call.
Draco comes in. His cheeks are flushed and damp from the rain, and his eyes are bright. I'm surprised he hadn't cast an Impervius.
"I apologise for being late," he says. "I had a matter at work that needed attending to."
He doesn't mention the Aurors.
"That's quite all right," I say. "I was delayed as well by the crowd in the street. Everyone was watching a couple of Aurors make an arrest. Sounded like it may have involved a kidnapping."
"Really?" He leans back in the chair and pulls a cigarette from its packet. "How interesting."
He certainly doesn't sound interested.
He's also lying through his teeth.
"Did you ever consider going into law enforcement?" I ask.
He gives me a look that's got "you must be mad" written all over it.
