What If? - Drarry - Chapter 57: Chapter 57

At half-past five, on the morning of the ninth of February, Draco rose out of his prison bed for the last time. He dressed fast, and then spent five minutes packing his possessions into the trunk he had been issued with for personal belongings. While some prisoners had many items sent to them during their stay, Draco's sum total of his seven months came to a pile of letters tied with a spare shoelace, several books, a cheap razor and shaving cream, and a pristine pair of Nikes in a red shoebox. He was planning to leave his toothbrush. He would have only the clothes on his back until he reached Harry's apartment, where his other legal possessions were waiting, neatly packed in boxes sent by the Prisoner Rehabilitation Department of the Ministry of Magic. He had just finished stripping the bed when a voice could be heard outside casting the spell to unlock the door, and he turned to see two guards - who clearly weren't ecstatic about how early in the morning it was - walk into the room. The taller man gave him a sharp nod.
"Ready to go, Patient?" He asked. He was a familiar face - one of the stricter guards, though not unkind. Draco nodded.
"Let's go."
He followed the guards through the bowels of the Institute, carrying his trunk under one arm until eventually, they reached administrations: an area of the prison which was fronted by a reception desk and which housed the offices of all senior employees behind it. They headed to the 'Interview Room', which was used for most employee/patient meetings, and Draco was sat down in front of a small pile of paperwork and a quill.
"We need you to fill these out before you can leave." The shorter guard said. "Remember that the parchment can detect any lies written on it, so don't bother trying to trick us, it'll just cause trouble for you. Once you fill in all the papers, you will have a brief meeting with your therapist. You should be out by half seven at the latest, as long as there are no complications. Got it?"
Draco nodded.
"Breakfast will be brought to you here." Added the taller guard. "What would you like?"
Draco shrugged. "I'm not really hungry." Then, he remembered something he'd heard from the other inmates about it being bad luck not to eat one's breakfast on one's last day, and that those who neglected the meal would one day return to eat it during another sentence. "I'll have a piece of toast, though, please," He added, hastily.
It took Draco a good half hour to work through the stack of parchment. Once he'd finished, the papers were taken away and replaced by Emma, who entered five minutes later. She smiled at him.
"It gives me great pleasure to see you out and into the real world, Draco," She said as she sat down across from him. As always, she looked perfectly arranged, from her sleek straight hair to each of her perfectly painted fingernails. "Not that I'm 'glad to be rid of you', as such, but it's high time you went back." She studied him. "How do you feel?"
"Nervous," Draco admitted. "I'm not sure why, though."
"It's only natural - you're about to go through a big change. Do you know how you're getting to Harry's apartment?"
"Well, Blaise is actually going to meet me and we're going to go get lunch in London somewhere. I think he's got some things planned to do to celebrate my freedom. Then we're going to meet Harry and he'll apparate us back to his."
"Sounds like fun - it'll be nice to eat something that isn't prison food, right? Well, I won't keep you too long, don't worry." She pulled a file out of her bag and placed it between them. "These are your patient notes. I can't give them to you because they are prison records, though you may request to see them anytime once you've left the prison, should the need arise. Today we're just going to look at a few pages." She opened the file and flicked through a few sheets of parchment before stopping. "This is your pre-treatment file, highlighting the problems you were facing before you started seeing me.
"I diagnosed you with complex PTSD because you were suffering from dissociation, nightmares, flashbacks, and regular prolonged periods of sadness." She got out parchment and a quill as she spoke in order to take notes. "My question is, do you think that these symptoms have abated during your stay at the Moody Institute?"
Draco thought for a moment. He pointed to the first word of the list on his pre-treatment page. "Dissociation. I still get that, but less now. The grounding techniques help."
"And it's still the feeling of being in a dream or some sort of stimulation? I believe you put it as 'seeing the world as if you were watching a pensive memory'?"
Draco nodded.
"That's pretty normal. They may well continue on for some time. I want you to continue using the grounding techniques. This-" She handed him a piece of parchment from her bag, "Is a copy of the list we already made of all your known triggers. You should keep it on hand, and add to it whenever you need to. As I've said before, knowing is half the battle.  And, as soon as you think you are ready, try to find another therapist outside the prison. If you choose to put them in contact with the prison - which I suggest you do - they can have access to your files and help you more. Dissociation takes a long time to cure, and you're doing very well under the circumstances."
Draco nodded, taking the parchment from her. "I'll remember. Thank you." He pointed to the next words. "Nightmares and flashbacks. Nightmares have mostly gone. Flashbacks have got a little better, but still happen once or twice a week."
"You said that they were generally more emotional than visual - I'm guessing that that's still the case?" She continued when he nodded, "As with dissociating, you need to know your triggers, so again, keep the list with you and add to it. Do you always know when you're having a flashback?"
"Depends on what type I'm having. If it's one where I'm mostly feeling hopeless or sad, then it's harder to identify; but when it's one where I'm feeling scared and I start to panic it's clearer what's happening."
"And have you been practising the mantras when you've started experiencing flashbacks?"
"Uh, sometimes. But often I just don't have the energy when it's happening."
She nodded. "I know it's hard, but you need to try really hard because it will help you a lot. Can you tell me what your mantras are?"
Draco was trying not to be impatient with Emma, but he couldn't help but feel frustrated at being so close to freedom yet having to sit and repeat self-help sentences. "I am having a flashback," He said, tonelessly, "I am afraid but I am not in danger. I have people who care about me. I accept that I cannot always control my emotions, but I can control my reactions to them."
"Great," Emma said. "Remember that you can always ask Harry or other people around you for help when you need it. I know it's hard to do, but it can be very good for you."
"I'll try."
"That's all I can ask of you," Emma said. "And finally, prolonged periods of sadness. How are those fairing?"
"Better, but not gone. They're shorter and much further apart, so they usually only last a few days to a week now."
"That's great, I'm really pleased with your progress. I think you'll find that you have more ways to help yourself outside prison. The best quick-fixes for sadness are exercise, as we've already talked about, and which you already do. It doesn't have to be a run, you could walk, fly, swim, whatever you want to do. You like flying a lot - try to get back into that when you feel like it. Make an effort to make contact with people even if you don't feel like it, because being around others help a lot. Do you think you can remember those things?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah, I'll remember."
She smiled. "I'm so proud of you."
It felt good when she said that, and Draco found himself returning her smile. "Thank you."
"Please do get in touch with me from time to time, and let me know how you're doing."
"I will."
Emma stood, and Draco followed suit, reaching out to shake her outstretched hand. "The best of luck to you, Draco. Now, I believe that your friend is waiting for you, so we'll get you checked and then you can be on your way."
"Thank you for everything," Draco said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of leaving the security of the prison for a world that either didn't care for or despised him. "I couldn't do this without the help you've given me."
Emma smiled again. "I really hope that the world does good for you, Draco."
Draco was searched thoroughly by several spells and then watched each of his items get checked individually. Then, with no ceremony, he was lead from admin to the waiting room, where Blaise sat, his leg bouncing up and down, indicating that he'd been sitting there for some time.
"Hey," Draco said, and Blaise's head snapped up. A huge grin lit up his face, and he jumped up and wrapped Draco in an enormous bear-hug.
"Hey," He said. "Welcome back."
0o0o
"So, where's the flu?" Draco asked as they walked out of the prison together. Blaise gestured to a smaller building by the entrance gates - more of an outhouse than a full construction.
"We're apparating - that's where you can enter or exit the grounds by magic - elsewhere, there is no apperation, dissaperation, or flu. They search you when you come in through it, leave by it, and enter or exit the main prison - as you just discovered. You can't even use magic inside the prison grounds unless you're a guard, apart from in that building. It'd be a bitch to escape from - I guess that's the point." Blaise looked at Draco. "You're nervous."
Draco shrugged.
"Don't worry,"  Blaise said happily, "We're going to have so much fun that you'll forget what a prison is."
Blaise had clearly put a good deal of thought into what they would do that day, but before they did anything, they stopped inside the outhouse and Blaise turned and faced Draco.
"I'm gonna slightly change your appearance, okay? I don't want anyone who might ruin our day recognising you, as we are going to spend most of our time in the magic areas of London. I'm going to change your hair and eye colour to brown and added a few freckles to your nose, I won't be a minute."
The rest of the day was a blur. First, they apparated to a restaurant on the top floor of one of the wizarding department stores in mid-London to eat some 'non-shit' food, as Blaise eloquently put it. This second breakfast was amazing, especially in comparison to Draco's earlier prison breakfast of burnt toast, but more importantly, the coffee was strong, bitter, and made Draco feel almost as though he was a normal person again. After breakfast they descended a couple of floors and Blaise insisted, despite Draco's reluctance to allow him to, on buying Draco several 'welcome back' presents, the first of which was a new set of clothes which Draco put on in the department bathrooms so that he could take off his prison jumpsuit, which was attracting some strange looks. He also bought Draco a new shaving kit because "No, I won't allow you to put that cheap, probably infected razor anywhere near your face again." Then they left the store, apparating to Kensington Gardens where they walked and talked, clutching take-away teas from a kiosk to keep their hands warm from the cold late-winter air. For lunch, they headed to a cafe nearby, and Draco was once again shocked by how good non-prison food was.
By the time it started to get dark, Draco was absolutely exhausted and incredibly happy. Blaise said that he'd told Harry they would meet at one of the muggle bars near Harry's flat at five, so they apparated to a deserted backstreet. Blaise removed the appearance-changing spells on Draco, and then they both walked the rest of the way to the 'Feathered Dragon', where a crowd of men clutching pints of beer were crowded around a muggle device showing an image of people chasing a ball of some sort on a green playing field, and shouting at the screen unintelligibly every few seconds.
"Can I 'elp?" The barman asked with an accent similar to Draco's old prison roommate's, pulling Blaise and Draco's attention away from the odd group.
"Uh, yeah, can we get two half-pints of..." Blaise trailed off, staring at the unfamiliar muggle beer brands.
"Guinness," Draco finished for him, picking a name at random.
"Interesting style you lads have," The man commented as he slid two glasses towards them, clearly referring to their cloaks.
"We're going to a fancy dress party later," Blaise said cooly.
Draco felt more nervous than he'd thought he would as they waited for Harry, who, surprisingly, was only a few minutes late. Draco swallowed as caught sight of him, as always looking great in his muggle clothes. Harry smiled broadly at Draco as he approached the bar.
"Look who's not in prison," He grinned. "I forgot what you looked like out of dungarees."
"Hey," Draco smiled at Harry. "Nice to see you on the outside."
"It certainly is. Hey, Blaise, how are you?" Harry asked, turning to Blaise.
"Great, cheers. You?"
"Not bad, not bad." Harry turned back to Draco. "Do you feel like hanging out here, or shall I show you the flat?"
"I think I'd like to see the flat, please," Draco said, standing up. He wrapped Blaise in a tight hug. "Thank you for today. It was exactly what I needed. Thank you for the clothes and the food and for being my best friend," he said quietly, then moved away. "Take care of yourself," He added.
"Don't go getting soppy on me now," Blaise grinned as they walked to the exit having paid the barman. "I'll see you soon, yeah?" He added.
"Yeah, of course. Owl me."
"Or just drop by," Harry added.
"I will. See you guys," Blaise waved, and disappeared off into the street while Draco and Harry walked in the opposite direction.
"So, how was your first day?" Harry asked as they walked.
"Absolutely bloody brilliant," Draco said happily. "You have no idea how much I've missed-" He gestured vaguely, "everything."
Draco told Harry about his day as they walked, and before long they were outside the door to Harry's apartment. Harry didn't use a key to unlock the door - alohomora was more efficient. The door swung open and he flicked on the lights as they walked into the flat.
"You've been living here how long?" Draco asked, examining the living room. It had a large window at the front, looking out onto the street, and a big mirror hanging on the other side. Some sort of muggle devise - a big black rectangle, the same thing that the muggles had been watching in the bar - was mounted on the wall above the fireplace, and a worn-out sofa faced it. Other than the sofa, there was no furniture.
"A year in April," Harry replied, looking embarrassed. "I know. Doesn't look like it."
Draco turned from examining the room to face Harry. "I don't care what it looks like. You have no idea how much this means to me. I thought I'd have to live in Bed and Breakfasts, or even on the street, with how much money I have."
Harry gave a one-sided smile. "Well, I'm glad you like it. Want a tour?"
From the living room they walked to the kitchen, which doubled as a dining area. A small round table with four chairs sat in the centre with a bowl of fruit on it, and Draco was surprised to see that the kitchen counter was crowded with spices and herbs, as well as onions, garlic, and other raw foods in their own respective bowls. A couple of plates sat unwashed in the sink but other than that, the place was pretty clean.
"You like cooking?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I had to do it a lot at the Dursleys, but never realised that I actually liked it until I got my own place. Of course, you can't go wrong with a Weasley recipe book," He gestured at the dog-eared and well-used notebook on one of the shelves.
"Cool," Draco said, impressed.
After backtracking to the living room, they followed a short corridor, Harry briefly indicating the coat and shoe closet and utility room as they walked.
"This is the bathroom," Harry opened the first door. "It's the only part of the house that I bothered expanding with magic.
Draco whistled as he looked inside to see a relatively large room with white walls, a white tiled floor, and most excitingly, a large bathtub with a shower fixture above it.
"I'm not usually into 'living lavish' as such," Harry grinned, "But once you use the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts, you don't look back."
"Agreed," Draco laughed. "If you were going to put effort into only one room, I'm glad you chose this one. God knows I've missed private bathrooms."
Next, they looked at Harry's room, which was similar to the others in the way that it undecorated and featured only a bed, a closet, and a nightstand. Draco's room was the same, though slightly smaller.
"I'm guessing that's my stuff?" Draco pointed at the two wooden boxes standing next to the bed.
"Yeah. I was surprised at how little you had, honestly. I mean, you'd told me, but still."
"Hopefully I'll be able to find a lawyer once I've earned some money, and challenge father to get possession of some of my stuff. But until then, yeah, I've got very little."
"Oh well, isn't minimalism meant to be rather trendy right now?" Harry said, brightly.
"That's one way to look at it," Draco shrugged.
"So," Harry said, "I thought maybe you could unpack while I get started cooking dinner?"
"A home-cooked meal?" Draco grinned. "You're spoiling me. Yeah, that sounds great."
Once Draco finished unpacking he wandered into the well-lit kitchen, which smelt incredible, and chatted to Harry while he cooked, enjoying the normality of the scene. It was weird to think that this time the previous evening he'd been in prison. It already felt like a long while ago. After some time, Harry placed a bowl of perfectly presented spaghetti bolognese in front of Draco, along with a glass of wine, and sat down to eat his own opposite him. Draco had eaten some good pasta in his life, but this was, without doubt, the best he'd ever had.
"Christ, Potter, how'd you do this?" He asked as he ate hungrily. Harry grinned.
"Started with Mrs Weasley's recipe, made my own adjustments, and here's the real tip - didn't use magic. Food seems to taste better when you don't take shortcuts."
"Whatever you do, it works," Draco laughed. "Thank you!"
After they'd finished, Draco helped Harry clear the table for dessert, which turned out to be blueberry tart - Draco's favourite, and, like the bolognese, absolutely delicious. Harry was modest, but Draco could see that he was pleased that the meal had gone so well. After they'd both stuffed themselves they sat and talked for a long time about everything and nothing, and when those topics were exhausted, Draco helped Harry wash up before going to get his toiletries - and realising that the one thing he and Blaise hadn't done was buy a toothbrush. Mouthwash would have to do. Draco was pleased to realise that, in that moment, his biggest problem was the fixable issue of oral hygiene.
Maybe things were really going to get better now.