On The Couch | DRARRY

Chapter 10

"Perhaps this as far as you can - or even want to - get involved."

It's one of those brilliantly bright winter mornings - the kind that hurts your eyes and makes them water. I squint at my mentor where she sits in the chair in my office. She's shielding her own eyes with her hand.

"Here," I say, drawing my wand. "Let's close these blinds, shall we?"

"A lovely idea. I was worried I'd get sunburn."

I chuckle and lower the blinds. Some of the light is still showing through but it's been converted from piercing to honey-mellow.

I'd asked her to come and see me as soon as she could, which turned out to be the morning after I received Draco's missive.

"Tea?"

"Would be lovely."

We sit quietly as the tea steeps in its pot. I let myself slowly relax into my chair. It isn't until that moment that I realise how tense I am.

"Why do you think he contacted you and in this odd manner?"

"I've been wondering the same thing," I say. "I get the impression that he may have been drunk when he wrote it, but that seems unlikely. He's told me on several occasions that he almost never allows himself to get inebriated . . ."

"Lots of secrets, this patient of yours."

I haven't told her Draco's name. That's our agreement. All I've told her is that a potentially suicidal patient wrote to me from out of the country rather suddenly, and that all he said is that his wife is pregnant.

"Yes, lots," I say. "Lots and lots."

"Maybe he'd been resisting the urge to write to you and finally gave in at a weak moment."

"That was my interpretation." I pour her a cup of tea.

"So this patient of yours has a long time lover who he'd been with before he was married."

"Yes, and it is . . . was - I don't know which is the right verb - very serious."

"Do you know that other party? Did your patient give you his or her name?"

"His name and yes."

"Ah, so you're patient is gay - or at least bisexual."

"Gay. He doesn't appear to be attracted to women at all. Milk?"

She shakes her head causing rainbows to skitter around the room when the light hits her earrings. "No thanks. The calories. Just black please. Arranged marriage?"

I nod.

"So pure-blood." She gives a little rueful snort. "If it weren't for the pure-bloods, we'd have no patients. Those people start screwing up their children the minute they leave the womb."

I laugh because it's true. Considering the fact that the number of pure-bloods is declining, they still make up a high percentage of my practise.

"Is his lover a pure-blood?"

"No, but he is . . . well, how I should I put it? He is well known, let's just leave it there."

"You mean 'well known' by the public?"

I nod.

"I see. So there's much at stake here - wealthy powerful pure-blood and someone with a name people would recognise."

It's my turn to give the snort. "That pretty much sums it up. More tea?"

"Yes, thank you. So, it sounds as though you're not certain they're still having an affair."