Second Chances (Drarry)

A muggle therapist.

It was ironic. Scratch that, it was absolutely ridiculous.
Draco Lucius Malfoy, sitting in a clean sunlit room, listening to a bunch of Muggles telling him their ridiculous problems. Him, Draco Malfoy, giving THEM advise on how to manage their lives, while his own had fallen apart during a war they weren't even aware had happened. He advised them to talk to someone, to HIM, when he himself refused to do the same. He advised them to face their fears, when he kept avoiding his own.

It was a punishment, of sorts. The kind he had chosen for himself. It was only appropriate, considering all the things he had done. Or rather the things he hadn't done. It was a punishment and a redemption in one. It was an odd sort of balance he had created for himself, as he tried desperately to atone his sins. (...)

And then, Draco one day wakes up years in the past, the worst years of his life left in front of him and Draco breaks.

Warning: This is a long fic and contains graphic depictions of violence, discusses traumatic events and its repercussions, as well as mayor character deaths. Also timeline shenanigans