Cicatrices- Marks That Remain

All Yours, Mate

Disclaimer READ THIS BEFORE BEGINNING THE CHAPTER: Hello my fellow readers! I have been doing Lots and Lots of research for this story and feel compelled to make an announcement. 

I do not have OCD, nor do I know anybody with OCD. I am simply a psychology student with endless curiosity. As may have already been noted, or at least will be noted from here forward, Draco is displaying some OCD-like behaviours. I AM IN NO WAY implying that he has formal OCD, nor am I fully aware of how to present OCD properly. I am going to approach this overall story as a character with coping mechanisms and rituals that are tied to anxiety. It forms over time and will morph into whatever it may be... Maybe it will remind people of OCD. Maybe it is OCD. Maybe not. I do not know, and I do not want to improperly imply things one way or the other. Despite all the research I have done and continue to do, I may not always get everything perfectly right.

I was inspired to take Draco's behaviours in this direction when I began to learn about the intricacies of anxiety and coping mechanisms surrounding trauma. I want to make it clear that Draco Malfoy is simply a character with behaviours and I as the author of the story will not put any sort of label on it. 

That being said, if anybody is willing to come forward with any sort of knowledge on this topic or similar topics, the information is greatly appreciated and may help me further understand what I am writing and what I perhaps should not be writing. 

Thank you all for your kindness and understanding... I hope you are enjoying the story so far!

Draco looked between the three Aurors while trying his best to hide his annoyance. He had to be babysat by these buffoons?! Berrycloth looked like he would rather be anywhere else, Draco absolutely could not let himself be caught with Weasley, with the history their families had, and Potter...

Potter.

Draco didn't think words were needed as to why that was a bad idea.

And all of this because, what, they were concerned about his safety? He had just survived a gruesome murder attempt. If anything, that should speak volumes about Draco's strength.

Because Draco was strong. He would not break.

He stood with slightly wobbling legs as though somebody had half-heartedly cast a jelly legs jinx on him, and Potter reached out to grab Draco, thinking he would fall. Draco glared at him. He could stand just fine on his own, thank you very much.

He was also pointedly ignoring how much his hands shook. They had been shaking since he first woke.

"Nerve damage," they said. "A side effect from having had to regrow your fingers." Draco was furious. As though he needed another constant reminder of...

"There's physical therapy, but it likely won't be back to how it used to be."

Draco knew hospital speak. It was just formality. 'Likely' actually meant 'certainly'.

"So, er..." Draco shook his head, coming back to the present. The three Aurors were still standing there dumbly. Potter was speaking to him.

"Have you decided? If you want us to rotate or if you want just one of us assigned to you?"

Ah, yes. That.

Either be accosted by three people all day, rotating days, three people in his home, three people standing guard, three stupid Gryffindors. Or, just have one of them take the pleasure of breaking into his life.

Perhaps he would get to choose which one Auror he had to tolerate.

"Only one. I don't need the added stress of having all three of you poking around my flat." And he would choose Berrycloth, the one who seemed least likely to actually come barreling into Draco's personal life.