Time Heals (D.M. - COMPLETE)

Time Heals // Chapter Two

The days that followed the confrontation with his parents were tense. They were on eggshells around him; wanting to begin to repair the fractures within their relationship, but not knowing where to start.

Narcissa made it her mission to get Draco out of bed in the morning, bringing him downstairs for breakfast and then a walk through the gardens. She'd talk to him about anything and everything; getting him involved in whatever her plans were for that day in an effort to keep his body busy and his mind occupied.

Narcissa refuses to speak to Lucius as a result of revelations made about the abuse Draco suffered at the hands of his father. Lucius begins to panic after almost a week of silence; he can see the cracks in his marriage deepening. The space between them starts to feel like a gaping void that's only personified when Narcissa begins to sleep in a guest room and moves her things in there.

Lucius approaches Draco slowly; it isn't a race, it's a marathon. He has twenty years of neglect and abuse to make up for. Lucius knows that there will always be a part of his son that won't ever forgive or forget the pain he suffered at his hands and words. Lucius knows that he's inflicted everlasting damage on the very thing he once claimed to love more than his own life. That fact hasn't changed; as he watches Draco every morning, take his mother's arm for a walk, he can see that his son has become more of a man that he can ever hope to be. For everything that Draco has been through in his short life, Lucius is in awe of how he seems to be handling it.

They take it slowly. Draco spends his mornings with his mother; talking about the flowers and the weather and the gossip – avoiding the heavier topics for a time when they both feel ready. In the afternoons, he joins his father in the library where a lot of time is spent in silence but on the rare occasion, the conversation revolves around what he wants for the future. And for the first time in his life, Draco feels as if his father is interested in his life, in his hobbies and passions. Not what he can offer the pure blood stock.

On the evenings, things get harder. The heaviness and fog creeps upon Draco slowly, but it crashes over him in wave so powerful he begins to wonder if he'll ever surface. He lies awake in his bed, working through his usual exercises of listing the things he's grateful for. His mother, his books, his life. It's a short list, but he repeats it over and over again as if it's a prayer. He repeats it until his lips are dry and the sun has started to rise.

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This time, Draco doesn't feel as nervous as he apparates to the side street by Dr. Jenkins' office. The nerves are still there but aren't felling like a heavy stone in his stomach. He straightens the collar of his black Belstaff coat that has been ruffled slightly due to the apparating, shoving his hands deep into the pockets as he makes his way into the building.

Dr. Jenkins greets him with warm familiarity; exchanging small pleasantries over their day so far as they both settle into their respective seats. Draco on the grand Chesterfield couch; Dr. Jenkins in the matching chair.

Instead of focusing on her numerous degrees that are displayed on the wall across from him, Draco's eyes home in on the bookshelves on either side of her desk. Book after book lines the shelves; hardbacks and paperbacks decorate the shelves.

Dr. Jenkins turns in her chair, wondering what's caught his attention.

"You have a lot of books, Dr. Jenkins."

She smiles, her attention returning back to the blonde-haired man, "I suppose I do. Some of them I need to take home before they bend the shelves completely."

Draco thinks back to the bookshelves in his room, warping with the weight of the hardbacks and paperbacks upon them. "I know the feeling. I've noticed that some of them are your own books."