After -Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 37

—Draco POV—

"He wouldn't do anything... ever. He just lays around. Some days he wouldn't even speak..."

I stayed at the top of the stairs to the basement, behind the closed door, listening to Weaslette talk about Harry. I made sure not to move, and to stay quiet. Harry was still sleeping, and I didn't want the others to know I was listening.

"Did you ever do anything together?" Asked her brother, with a seemingly surprised voice.

"What could we do? He was just..." It was quiet for a second. "He never wants to go anywhere. And every time he did go somewhere, he'd have some sort of fit. He'd start to panic... as if something was going to happen."

It seems Harry isn't much different now... I was deep in thought, but was snapped out of it at the sound of Gran-Hermione's voice.

"He never let you in? He never let you help?"

"No... he... It was always the same thing. 'I'm fine,' Or 'It was nothing.' My persistence and his stubbornness would start so many arguments. I'd finish days fuming. Wishing he could just tell me what's wrong or how he wants me to help..."

I turned my head in the direction of the bottom of the stairs, deciding to stop listening before I could begin to overthink. I went back to the bottom, and saw Harry staring at the wall.

"Good morning." I said softly. Keeping an expressionless face. 'It was always the same thing.' 'I'm fine.'

"Are you ready to go home today?" I asked, crouching down beside him. He only shrugged.

"We should eat breakfast... don't you think?" I said slowly. He shrugged again. It was odd. I hadn't seen him wake up like this before. Usually he'd say something, or get up, or ask me to hug him. But now he turned around, tugging the sheets tighter around himself.

"What's wrong?" I said. My face showed curiosity and concern. He turned back around to face me again, and I studied his features. His face seemed to be expressing... pain? Tiredness? Sadness? It left me more confused than I had been previously. He took a deep, faint, slow breath, before speaking.

"I... don't want to move.... too much... energy." Suddenly I noticed just how done with everything he looked.

"You have to get up..." I said, he shook his head faintly, closing his eyes in discomfort.

The last time he looked like this was... Teddy and Scorpius's play date... when... he was asleep. At that moment I remembered how clearly I'd seen the new scratch marks that lined his chest, and how he had brought me to tears for the first time since the War... No. I thought to myself. The first time since Astoria passed... I remembered how Harry hadn't taken his medicine that time, and how I'd brought it to him. Then, it hit me.

"When's the last time you took your medicine? Harry?"

"...America... stop... talking... please." My eyes widened slightly in realization. He's crashing because he hasn't taken his medicine in days.

"You are taking your medicine as soon as possible. Do you understand me?" I was met with no response. I got up, going upstairs, angry at myself for forgetting. For allowing him to go two days without the medicine that I had been making sure he took religiously.

"Good morning." I said shortly, and with no emotion; whipping past the three who had been talking. I went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, and taking a sip.

"Scorpius and Teddy are upstairs with your kid. Aren't they." I said, facing Hermione.

"Yes, they are. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me." I said a little too harshly.

"Harry hasn't been taking his medicine. It shows." I said, monotonous.

"That's another thing he always did. 'I don't need the medicine' meanwhile he looks half dead." Commented the Weasley girl with a dejected voice. I shot her a glare, not willing to put up with her bullshit.

"He hasn't seen his Muggle mind healer since he lived here. And I don't even know how he has been getting refills-" I said, before getting cut off by Weasley.

"Gin would come and pick it up..."

"That's the most impractical thing I've ever heard-" I tried remarking.

"He didn't want people to know he'd left. He was scared the Prophet would follow him." Interrupted Weasley's sister. "Besides, why do you want to know?" She added sourly. I was about to snap at her, when Hermione stepped into the conversation.

"Don't you think the smart thing to do would be to visit Harry's psychiatrist? Or at least transfer his medicine to a Muggle pharmacist in America?"

"If we transfer where we want them to send the medicine then the Daily Prophet will find out. Don't forget, Skeeter is a Beetle. She can go anywhere." Said Ron.

"I don't think Rita Skeeter is around anymore. And the rest of the prophet wouldn't be meddling with Muggles. Doesn't he have a Muggle doctor instead of a healer?" Asked Hermione. "They wouldn't know." She reasoned.

"Granger has a point." I added quickly. "Hermione... she has a point." I corrected.

"See?" She replied. "As long as Harry can make it to the Muggle world without being detected, we can transfer his medicine without a problem."

"You're forgetting one thing." Said Weaslette. "He never goes anywhere. He never does anything. What makes you all think he's going to go wandering into the Muggle world, and risk being found by his relatives, just to do this?" I could here the frustration behind her voice as she spoke about how Harry's behavior had been.

"Well the stubborn git shouldn't have much a choice, now should he." I muttered.

"Malfoy is right." Added Hermione.

"It's settled." I said, clearing my throat. "Harry is going to get a refill, take his medicine, and transfer..." My voice trailed. The Wizarding World is so different from the Muggle World when it comes to this stuff. I mean, medicine? Doctors? Psychiatrists? Here it's Potions, Healers, MediWizards, mind healers, and being insane... I paused. Harry isn't insane though. He's sick.

"Pharmacist." Said Hermione. I looked up at her.

"Pharmacists give Muggles their medicine or... I guess if you'd need me to translate, potions." She clarified. I nodded my head in understanding.

"I know, Malfoy. I had to learn about all of that to get a healing job in the Muggle World." She said, keeping her gaze down and away from me. I put my head down. For probably the first time, the only person in the room who knows less than me is Weasley. It felt odd knowing that his sister knew more about this stuff than I did. Hermione, I was used to. Father would always bother me about having worse marks than a Mudblood... Muggle Born. I thought to myself, shaking my head slightly.

Keeping my expressions concealed, I began a swift walk back to the basement.

"I'm going to try waking Harry..."