The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

25. Brave

After Harry left, the office felt strangely quiet. Not uncomfortable quiet. Peaceful quiet. The kind that settled after a storm finally passed.

Sloane leaned back into her chair for a moment staring at the closed door Harry had disappeared through, still slightly amazed by how much lighter he'd looked leaving compared to when he arrived.

She hoped it lasted. Even a little. Harry deserved peace more than most people she had ever met.

With a soft sigh, Sloane stood and began tidying the room.

Harry's teacup floated gently back toward the tray while the biscuit plate refilled itself with a flick of her wand. She reheated both the tea and coffee pots before settling back behind the little coffee table with a fresh piece of parchment.

Apparently proper records would eventually be kept for every student session. Professor McGonagall had mentioned that earlier. But since Sloane hadn't received the official files yet, she was improvising.

Her handwriting curled neatly across the parchment.

Harry Potter
— Severe survivor's guilt
— Nightmares / insomnia
— Anxiety symptoms physical + emotional
— Feels responsible for deaths during war
— Requires reassurance + grounding techniques
— Possibly emotionally confused idiot

Sloane paused. Then quickly scribbled out idiot. "...Unprofessional," she muttered to herself. She had just finished adding another few notes when—

Knock knock.

Sloane froze briefly.

Draco.

Immediately, and completely against her will, she stood up and checked her reflection in the small mirror hanging beside the bookshelf. Then immediately frowned at herself. Wise up, girl. It's Draco bloody Malfoy. He is not remotely interested in you. Still, she smoothed down her jumper anyway before crossing the room and opening the door.

Draco stood leaning against the stone wall outside, one foot propped casually behind him. Well. Casually for Draco. Which mostly meant he looked elegant and miserable simultaneously. His sleeves were rolled slightly up his forearms and his tie had disappeared entirely at some point during the day. Pale blond hair fell messily across his forehead like he'd run his hands through it too many times already.

He looked exhausted. And annoyingly attractive.

Sloane mentally slapped herself. "Hi," she smiled, stepping aside to let him in.

"Hi," Draco mumbled. He stepped into the room slowly, immediately glancing around with quiet curiosity.

Unlike Harry, Draco didn't move very far inside immediately. He lingered near the doorway instead like part of him was still considering escape. "Nice digs," he muttered eventually.

Sloane grinned faintly. "Thanks."

Draco's eyes drifted over the navy walls, the soft lighting, the bookshelves, and finally landed on the lava lamp. He stared at it suspiciously. "What," he asked slowly, "is that thing?"

"A lava lamp."

"...Why?"

"Because it's calming."

"It looks possessed."

Sloane snorted softly. "Well, it's nice enough," she said, moving toward the tea tray. "I didn't need anything fancy. Just somewhere comfortable."

Draco hummed absently.

"Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee," he sighed dramatically, sounding like the concept itself exhausted him. Then he wandered toward the sofa and more or less collapsed into it bonelessly. Sloane tried not to smile. He really did look tired. Not physically. Soul tired.