The Babysitter

Chaos

"Episkey," Harry pointed his wand at Chloe's head. He and Malfoy watched the blood on the baby's forehead dry up and disappear. The spell may have stopped the bleeding, but it did not stop the crying.
Every time Malfoy tried to pick up Chloe, she screamed and kicked at him. Harry didn't know one-year-olds were capable of hating people.
"Amamaa!!" Penelope cried. Their mama wasn't there.
"Malfoy, go warm up their milk, you saw the directions, right?" Harry said. Malfoy, seeming stressed and tired, nodded slightly and left the room.
"Alright, just hold on," he told the girls when he heard the microwave.
He set down Penelope and grabbed Chloe before she could smack her head into the table again. How was he already getting a headache? Malfoy came back fast enough with both bottles. He handed one to Harry, who gladly stuffed the end into Chloe's mouth. He went to help Penelope, but she grabbed it from him and threw it.
"You-agh..." Malfoy bent down to retrieve the bottle, but Penny crawled over and pushed him, then continued crying.
Harry stifled a laugh when his old enemy fell on his arse.
"Malfoy, you've just got to-"
"Shut up, Potter," Draco growled, rubbing his temples.
"-relax a little." Penelope screamed soo loud.
A defeated Malfoy handed the bottle over to Harry, who easily placed it on Penny's lap. She shut up immediately and ended up drinking the whole bottle.
"How the f.." Draco stopped himself from swearing.
"Thank you," Harry smiled.
Draco looked away, scratching his neck. But Harry could still see his pink ears.
"Amamama?" Chloe squeaked after finishing her bottle. Harry looked at her and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, there's only us right now." He pulled on a little smile.
"Merlin, Potter..." Malfoy muttered. Harry looked up and glared.
"Shut up, you can't even get babies to like you."
"What's the point? They're not going to remember me by tomorrow," Malfoy shrugged.
"But-" Harry held Chloe up to him. "-they're adorable!" Chloe had the cutest little laugh. Penelope crawled onto Harry's lap and smiled. Harry smiled back.
"Ugh." Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"Is there anything you actually like?" Harry frowned.
Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but he stopped. He tried, but failed again.
"I like The Beatles," he said quietly.
"What else?" For some reason Harry really did want to know. He wanted to know everything he could about Malfoy.
"Um..." a smile tugged at his pale lips. "I dunno, no one has ever asked me that before." He shrugged.
He leaned back against the wall, reaching out for Penny, who said, "MAA" in response. He pulled his hand back and watched the girls almost sadly.
"I think they just don't want you to be so angry," Harry teased slightly. He didn't know why he was bothering to try and make Draco feel better.
The twins were entertaining each other, so Harry plopped them into a crib. Malfoy stood slowly, and followed Harry out of the nursery.
"What happened to you?" Harry asked.
"Nothing," Malfoy spat. He seemed very defensive over nothing.
"Malfoy-"
"No, stop. I don't know what you're playing at but I don't like it and I'm not answering any more of your stupid questions. So fuck off, Potter, I'm done."
   They put the cushions back on the sofa in silence.
"But-"
"Shut. Up. Potter."
   Malfoy sat on the couch and pointed his wand at a book. "Gemino." The book duplicated. Malfoy picked up the new book and opened it. The pages were blank. "Gemino." He tried again, this time pointing at the rocking chair. An image of the chair flashed but it fell apart in the air, landing on the floor as a heap of wood. "Potter." He turned his intense gaze on Harry. "You try. Maybe it's just this shit."
"Gemino," Harry whispered at the book. He picked up the duplicate and read the first two pages.
"Fuck," Malfoy muttered. "Fuck! It's broken! That bitch broke my wand!" He stuck his fists in his hair.
"She's just a baby," Harry said.
"You don't understand, Potter. I n-I need my-my wand."
"You can go to Ollivanders tomorrow."
"No. It's-it's..." He gripped his hair tighter. Harry took a step towards him, almost reaching out his hand.
"You're going to pull your hair out."
"I have a-a-agh!" He tried taking deep breaths, but ended up hyperventilating.
   What happened to him?
   Harry couldn't think of any spells that would help him.
"Potter.." Malfoy hissed, his eyes squeezed shut.
"Tell me what's wrong with you."
"I just- you need to just-" His hands moved from his hair to his thighs. Harry took another couple steps forward. "I'm having an anxiety attack," he breathed out.
   Oh.
"Draco, I get these all the time." Malfoy glanced up at him. "Yeah, um... ok, so just take a deep breath. Count to ten."
"That's stupid," Malfoy said quietly.
"It works sometimes." Harry shrugged. Malfoy suddenly grabbed his stomach.
"Fuck," he cried. "I'm gonna-where's the toilet, I have to-" He stood slowly, but lost his footing. Harry grabbed him by the shoulders. "Get away from m-" Malfoy put his hand over his mouth, gripping his stomach tighter.
"Merlin, I've never been like this," Harry muttered. Malfoy groaned weakly. "I'm so sorry." He rushed them to the toilet.
   Malfoy held the sides of the toilet bowl like a lifeline. Tears rolled down his face as he retched. Harry kept his hand on Draco's shoulder, he could only imagine what was going on in his brain.
"I can't see," Draco cried. "Everything's really-" he gagged "- blurry."
"You don't have to talk, Draco."
"N-no, it helps." He spit into the toilet. "Hearing my own voice makes it feel sort of real." That made sense.
"Ok, so let's talk."
"About what?" Draco scoffed, his watery grey eyes were fixed on Harry's green ones.
"How about things you don't like? That seems to come easier to you." Harry smirked.
   Malfoy sat back against the wall, Harry's  hand slid off his shoulder.
"You think you're so funny, don't you?" Malfoy exhaled.
"I think I'm bloody adorable," Harry replied. He caught a smile tugging at Draco's lips.
"I don't like you," he said, turning his head slowly to face Harry. "I don't like.." his eyes rolled up before he closed them tightly, "I hate being dizzy."
"I hate it too," Harry tried.
"What happens," he opened his eyes again, "when you have attacks?"
"They usually happen after a nightmare, so it's dark-"
"Mm, say no more." Malfoy leaned his head against the wall. "Those are the worst."
"What, the nightmares or the-"
"Nightmares. I wouldn't take those over throwing up any day."
   For a while they didn't talk. Harry listened to Draco's labored breathing. He couldn't see the nursery from the floor against the bathtub where he sat, but he could hear the girls laughing.
   Harry thought about the night he snuck into Dudley's room and got into his computer for the first time. He was looking up his symptoms and found out what was so wrong with him.
"The Muggles call this PTSD," Harry informed Malfoy.
"What?" He whispered.
"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The war fucked us up so bad, we developed an actual illness from it." Living with the Dursleys certainly didn't help Harry's case.
"You sweared," was Malfoy's response.
"Shut up." They both smiled a little, Draco looked away first. "Um, also it's swore. Not sweared."
"And suddenly I'm cured," Malfoy stretched and stood, only wobbling a little.