Draco Malfoy Gets a Life Coach

The First Meeting

I made my way to the assigned office which was on the same floor as Granger's, but off a different hall. Spotting it in the distance, I decided right then that I would stop in and bother her after my meeting. Granger was something like my glorified babysitter these days, and getting under her skin over work issues was one of my favorite pastimes.

Perhaps I could magic the title "Glorified Babysitter" onto her door on my way out. Rile her up a bit.

She'd been decidedly neutral with me after her little outburst of emotion last Friday; her usual cutting wit had been dulled down to the edge of a butter-knife.

I didn't like it.

Granger was supposed to be a pain in my arse, or else what was the point of her? No matter. I'd set things right before leaving. It wouldn't do to have her actually tolerating me just because I'd agreed not to go to sodding Azkaban.

She'd given me a packet of information to familiarize myself with prior to this meeting, all about this "Life Coaching" thing.

My previous assignment had been to work with the Muggle therapists to help them get acclimated to the kinds of issues wizards would bring.

Apparently, I'd been an excellent specimen, given that I'd been tortured in my own home, forced to receive the Dark Mark, charged with killing the headmaster of my school, witnessed my aunt maiming my classmates, and the list goes on.

I could understand how any ordinary war veteran might require such a service, but I was an extremely accomplished Occlumens. Everything I'd gone through had been thoroughly packed away into tiny steel boxes in my mind, held at bay by my magic. I was not about to open any of those boxes and disturb the order. It had taken so long to get it all packed away just right.

No matter, though, I had become quite an accomplished actor as well. Having the Dark Lord in your home, startlingly attuned to your every facial movement, would do that to you.

They'd cycled me through twelve different counselors and therapists in eight months. None of them had stood a chance.

Shacklebolt had been fairly fucking cross with me by the twelfth, but nowhere in my contract had it said I needed to be truthful in these engagements. In fact, I was fairly certain they'd just wanted me to give each one a taste of what sorts of problems Wizarding war veterans might bring, and let that be that. I was a pawn, not a knight.

Being a pawn was familiar, I'd already been that particular chess piece for most of my life, what was another few months? I'd do my time and be done with these people forever. Maybe move to the Black family vineyard in France... maybe out of Europe altogether. I always did want to visit the States...

I reached the office indicated on the parchment and knocked on the door.

"Come on in!" a voice called. American accent. Funny, I'd just been thinking of the States.

I opened the door and was startled immediately by the set up. Two chairs facing one another. Close together. And she was sitting in one of them.

All of the others had put a bit of space between us, be it the desk or coffee table. I lingered in the doorway. She didn't look up from her notebook immediately, but then turned and looked up at me with a broad smile and a cheery, "Hello!"

Merlin, it was far too early to be this happy.

She was much younger than I had imagined, I'd honestly expected some barmy old codger who was going to attempt to bestow his Muggle wisdom unto me. She looked to be early thirties, dark hair, Muggle business suit.

She held out a hand and I took it with without returning her chipper greeting. At least she gave a firm handshake, unlike many of the others.

"You must be Draco."