Dramione- When You Don't See Me

49. Heuristic Harry

Song: Eminem- Lose Yourself

*Warning*
*Harsh Topics And Foul Language Ahead*

~Flashback~

When Draco woke up, he wasn't where he expected. The room had an odd smell to it and an even stranger appearance. Pink sheets below and above him, a window to his left, a dresser to his right. The table like object had a mirror on top of it, he could just barely see the hair on his head before he sat up groggily.

His eyes seemed to have pulled themselves further into their sockets, dark bags under them. His hair had gotten longer, his cheek had the folding pattern of the pillow imprinted in it. Looking down at his hands and body, his wounds were fully healed, hardly a line to look at, someone had clothed him in an outfit he'd have never picked for himself. His arms and chest were adorned in a navy over-sized sweater, his legs in army green sweatpants.

It took him a second to stand up, fully coming to the mirror to gather information on his new appearance. A creeking noise came from behind him and he turned around as fast as possible, backing himself into a corner. "Draco, you're awake. Dinner is ready downstairs, come on." The voice was far too sweet for his liking and he stayed hidden at the foot of the bed, crouching out of sight to whoever it was.

His heartbeat quickened as steps came closer, water forming in his eyelids. He scooted further back, hiding his face as his knees came to his chest and his arms folded over them.

The figure could see the young man shaking vigorously, hear the sharp intakes of breath. "Draco.." they whispered his name, coming to their knees just a few feet away. Laying a hand on his bare foot, they said his name again.

"G-go away," he was almost panting in his length of breath. The presence came closer and caressed his cheek until they could make him look at them. He trembled even as he knew who it was, backing up as much as he could. "Go a-w-way," Draco said again, glad it wasn't another dementor hallucination but frightened more by who it actually was.

"Come eat with us, Draco. You're safe here." They said with a kind smile. He shook his head, "N-no."

"Come on, let's go. Up, come on," Draco was a decent amount taller than the person who now pulled him along to the kitchen. He already knew where he was by the person but passing through the long stairway only confirmed it. He'd never been here before, it was so much different than he imagined.

So many photos, memorial objects, little ribbons about Quidditch. They were just about to enter the kitchen. He could sense it by all the chatter coming from the next room, pulling away from the person, shaking his head, and backing up again. "Draco, they won't hurt or judge you. It'll be alright, come on."

He shook his head again, still feeling the tears travel down his face. He wiped them away and folded his arms, looking into the living room. "No one in this household will give you a hard time for having emotions. You'll be just fine, come on, dinner is getting cold." They grabbed him again, pulling him along reluctantly, he let his feet drag a bit against the hardwood.

Draco avoided the eyes of the people he knew were in the room, sitting where the person had pushed them. The table went silent all except one, "Here, take my plate, I'll dish up another for myself." Draco knew the voice and looked up, not saying a word but nodding and taking the ceramic flowery plate. The noirette smiled at him. He wondered why he was even here, of all places he expected to be at 'home' or in some Ministry room rather than here.

The blonde couldn't bring himself to smile back as he sniffled, which only attracted more attention to himself. Seven people all stared at him, looking away when he took a glance at them all. "So what brings you around here? Haven't spoke to you since you were 'round twelve," a man said to him. Draco couldn't bring himself to speak though he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

The noirette answered, "He wouldn't know the answer, he woke up just minutes ago. The Ministry has put him here for a few weeks so he can calm down a bit before his trial." The blonde's mind was a mess, he stared down at his lap in shame of what he'd tried to do. That's why they were being nice to him, he was a charity case.

The man nodded, trying to be friendly, "Enjoying your stay so far?" A girl Draco knew to be just younger than him was quick to respond, "Can't be too happy with that face." Draco felt at his cheeks, still clamy and a bit of salty residue. Draco couldn't comprehend all of it at once, more tears threatening his stress level. He kept trying to blink them back into his eyes but they wouldn't budge. They kept staring at him and his heartbeat quickened again, "S-stop it, s-stop looking. Stop t-talking."

He shook in his seat, continuing to glance at everyone who seemed to look at him stronger than before. "Malfoy, calm down," the girl said. "N-no, you all just pity me, you don't want me here. I'm only h-here because Potter's Head Auror and they think he'll watch over me so I.. So I don't kill myself." Draco got up, holding his head as he walked away from the dining room.

Ginny looked to her boyfriend, "I told you he wouldn't go for it." Harry stared back at her as he got up, "It was going fine till you got all sassy on him."

He walked out as well, "Malfoy, come back here."

Draco had pulled himself out to the back porch, his head in his hands, loudly sobbing and swearing. "You had one fucking job and you couldn't even do it.. one fucking job.."

"Malfoy." Draco was immediately alarmed, standing up and wiping his face, "Bugger off, Potter."

"No, I think I'll stay." Harry sat down, patting the spot next to him. Draco scoffed, "If you are going to act like I am some child, I'm leaving. I am so done with being here." He wiped his face again, not meeting Harry's gaze.

Potter rolled his eyes, "You know, it was me who told them to release you." Malfoy didn't say a word or bat an eye.

"You'd have rathered I left you there, I can tell." Harry said, standing up and leaning against the wooden pillar. "I do," Draco said quietly.

Harry sighed, "The other Aurors told me how close you were to 'success'. I didn't believe them till your scan came back. Nineteen bruises, seven open wounds, you really did a number on yourself in there." Draco nodded, "Another day, another hour and I wouldn't be at this damned house having to deal with you."

He gulped, "Draco-" "Do not call me by my name. We are not friends, Potter."

"Malfoy, there are ways of recovering from this. I have tons of chocolate on hand in the kitchen, helps relieve the stress of dementors. I've got a bottle of blood replenisher with your name on it, it'll help steady your emotions, get more air to your brain. We have ways to h-"

"I do not need your help, Potter. I can handle myself and I'm not taking your home remedies. Just go away." Draco folded his arms, looking right into Harry's eyes. "I know the dementors make you fe-"

"I made my own damned self feel this way, Potter! You think I have enough happy memories to feed a dementor for even an hour? News flash, I don't! My own fucked up brain wants me to die, you hear me!?" Draco's eyes were like waterfalls, his voice getting hoarse, "Merlin, that sounds terrible aloud.."

Harry looked at the broken man in front of him before stepping closer. Draco glared at him, "What in the name of Salazar are you-" Harry pulled Draco into a hug.

The blonde's eyes widened, "Potter, get off of me." The noirette held him tighter, "Don't think I will, thanks."

The hug was such a brotherly type thing, Harry patting his back and everything. After a minute, Draco finally gave up and hugged Harry back. The amount of serotonin flowing through his head was enough to make him hold on tighter.

Draco nestled his face into Harry's shoulder as his sobbing died down to nothing. They stayed like that for a while, Draco finally pulled away having realized he was falling asleep, "I-I'll take it." Harry smiled at him, nodding.

All Draco wished for was that, for once in a long while, he could sleep without nightmares and wake up happy. That was all he asked. He downed the potion, grimacing at the taste the Ministry had disguised in something fouler flavored.

Maybe this was the first task towards recovery, he didn't know for sure. But as he tried not to vomit, he damn well hoped this was a step in the right direction.

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