The Plight- Malfoy x Reader

Rage

"Tell me about your childhood."

The woman in front of me had her legs crossed and every piece of clothing she had on was a different shade of brown—from her leather heels to her pencil skirt up to her reading glasses.

Healer Quinn was her name—the 'best of the best in psychiatry and magic' was what the St. Mungo's specialist had said. 'World renowned for her approach to trauma-related manifestations in magic users.'

Irritating.

So so irritating to be prescribed talk therapy when there were surely better ways to deal with my own magic setting me on fire.

I'd prefer to drink some disgusting potion for the rest of my life than this. Though what the St. Mungo's specialist had said was that the elixir was only a temporary sedative that shouldn't be used long term for my 'condition'.

So now I was to sit in the manor's parlor to talk to a stranger about a time I'd rather never speak of again.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because sometimes talking about these things can help process the emotions," she explained, her voice soft and unhurried.

"I think talking about it will make it worse."

"And what is it that makes you believe that?"

She was writing with a tan quill into a journal and I wondered what sort of things she was writing down.

It made me uneasy.

I could've said it was because the night I'd told Otto about my parents was the night I'd somehow set myself on fire, but instead I said
"Intuition."

Healer Quinn smiled, revealing a single dimple in one of her cheeks.

"Okay. How about we start with something easier. Why don't you tell me about yourself."

I hesitated.

"What about myself?"

"What do you like doing for fun?"

Fun?

"Going outside I guess... and reading."

"What sorts of things do you like to read?"

What did I like to read? Anything that had been lying around at my house I would read. I never had a preference during those days.

But the more I thought about it, maybe I didn't read for fun. Maybe I read in order to fill the parts of me up that felt inadequate. To eat up all the knowledge I could find to compensate for having never really lived—and maybe to feel less lonely without anyone around.

I wasn't going to tell her that pathetic realization.

"Anything that I haven't read," I shrugged.

"Mmm... How about friends?"

Insecurity swelled.

Was Draco my friend?