Chapter Text
The repairs to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry took only a week. The mass destruction caused at the hands of Lord Voldemort and his followers was not simply suffered by the witches and wizards of the United Kingdom who had studied there but was keenly felt by witches and wizard around the world. The influx of magical beings apparating to the nearby town of Hogsmeade meant that the repairs to the school were completed a lot faster.
By the end of the week, Hogwarts had been returned to its former glory.
But the scars remained; visible only in the faces of students and teachers alike as they walked the corridors and mourned their losses.
The war touched everyone; it left no stone unturned.
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Draco Malfoy stops to return home three times. His palms are sweaty and his heart pounds in chest.
He paces the train compartment; unable to sit still very long for the fear of intruding thoughts and memories.
It has taken him months to get to this point. Every time he thought he was close; he would have a setback. Which was okay because in order to do this; in order to achieve his final target set so long ago, he has to be ready.
And he finally is.
The first breath of air after departing the train is sweet; he had forgotten how claustrophobic the train compartments could be. The second breath holds sentimentality and nostalgia rolled into one as he remembers departing the train to start a new academic year.
A hand slides into his; delicate fingers tangling with his and squeezing tight. Anchoring him to this very moment.
“Are you ready?” She asks; attention solely on him and not on their surroundings.
Draco releases a shuddering breath, “As I’ll ever be. The path is this way.”
It had been organised weeks ago; this very moment. Draco sent a letter to Professor McGonagall detailing his journey and final target left to achieve, but also begging a boon to have the muggle avoidance charm removed for (Y/N)’s benefit.
Professor McGonagall responded in kindness. Offering a date where student interaction would be minimal and offering the whole day for both of them to take their time.
She also added that she was pleased to hear he was doing so well and that he had found someone to share the rest of his life with.
The wind blows (Y/N)’s hair into her face which she brushes away with her left hand. The promise ring given to her a month ago sits prettily on her middle finger to avoid the confusion of an engagement. One day, Draco thinks.
He leads her down the familiar trail; one his feet have travelled so many times but did not think they would do so again.
Draco hears her intake of breath when her eyes land on the grand castle in which he received his formative education. The towers loom over the Scottish Highlands making the caste’s presence here dominant and foreign yet the school would belong nowhere else.
As they draw closer and closer to the castle, Draco realises that the feeling from First Year; of seeing the school for the very first time in all of its glory, never goes away.
He took it for granted, he realises. His love for the place and its love for him. He took it all for granted.
The ornate wooden doors that signify the entrance to the school are soon in his line of vision.
With a gasp, he stops.
Everything is pristine and perfect; not a brick out of place, yet he’s seeing it exactly as it was all those years ago. The dead had been moved to the Great Hall where their souls could pass to the afterlife without fear of being trod on. The dead had been removed but rubble covers the courtyard and have destroyed the doors. Doors that have stood for over a thousand years but now hang on their hinges as if nothing more than an insignificant piece of the castle.
The voice that frees him from his nightmares is close by, calling his name. “Draco, darling – come back to me.”
He blinks. He’s standing in the courtyard but it’s clear. He’s standing in the courtyard and (Y/N) is there. She’s there.
Concern floods her eyes, “We can turn around, Draco. I’m sure Professor McGonagall will understand if we do this another day.”
He shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. We’ve come this far. It just took me by surprise is all.”
She frowns, the worry in her eyes not lifting, “You say the word and we go, okay? You make the decisions today.”
“Only today?” He questions in an attempt to lighten to the sombre mood that had fallen upon the both of them.
She smiles, “Can’t give you too much power. I wouldn’t want it to go straight to that pretty head of yours.”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “I have done for almost a year now, but thanks for just noticing.”
They pause in their steps; they’re outside the imposing doors now. He takes a deep breath before pushing lightly on the doors, watching as they give way under his touch. (Y/N) looks at him in wonder.
“Wordless magic.” He explains, “I didn’t have to say the words to get the spell to work.”
He grins when he hears her mutter ‘show off’ under her breath.
Draco stops in the entrance hall. Each of them taking a moment – (Y/N) to digest what she’s witnessing; Draco to battle the waves of nostalgia that threaten to overtake him.
He catches eyes with a tabby cat perched on the third step from the bottom.
“Good morning, Professor McGonagall,” Draco greets
“Draco, darling. That’s a cat.”
He shakes his head, “This cat taught me Transfiguration for seven years. How are you, Professor?”
The gasp (Y/N) releases as she watches the cat transform into a grey-haired witch in emerald green robes had Draco grinning like a fool in love. Well, he supposes he is.
“Mr. Malfoy, I trust your journey went well. I presume this is the Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) you mentioned in your letter.”
Draco’s arm wraps around her waist, “It is. (Y/N), this is Headmistress McGonagall of Hogwarts.”
(Y/N) smiles, holding out her hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Headmistress. Draco has told me a lot about his time at Hogwarts.”
Headmistress McGonagall shakes (Y/N)’s hand twice before letting it drop, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” She directs her gaze to Draco, “You have all day here, Mr. Malfoy and don’t worry over any students. It is exam season and I’m sure you remember how that was. All I ask is that you stay away from the Whomping Willow – it has been oddly temperamental as of late. And please stay out of the Forbidden Forest.”
Draco nods, “Of course, Headmistress. Thank you for allowing us to visit and for giving me the counter charm for the muggle avoidance charm so (Y/N) could accompany me.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Malfoy. Now off you; there’s a lot of ground to cover as you well remember.”
Draco nods, smiling at McGonagall before pulling (Y/N) in the direction of the Great Hall.
McGonagall’s voice sounding one more time has Draco turning around, “It’s nice to see you doing so well, Draco.”
They take their time wandering through the school. Draco first shows her the Great Hall; he enjoys the sight of her wandering between the table, a finger dragging along the wood.
“So you would eat here?”
Draco nods, following her down the aisles between the tables, hands in his pockets, “Yes, meal times but we’d also have revision periods in here.”
She turns to him, smiling softly, “Which is the Slytherin table?”
He points to the furthest table across the room, “That one, there.”
(Y/N) rushes over to the table, perching on the bench, “I can see you now, little Draco eating breakfast before running to first lesson.”
He sits across from her, “I never ran. I’m way too cool to run.”
She snorts, laughing. “Come on, show me the rest of the school.”
Draco lets (Y/N) pull him from the Great Hall, but she pauses at the door uncertain of which way to turn.
“Which way do I go?”
He grins at her as he takes the lead, “I’ll show you the staircases and then you might understand why I didn’t run to lessons.”
“You’ve intrigued me.”
She shrieks as from her first step on the staircase, they begin to move. Both of her hands shoot out to grab Draco. He can’t help but chuckle at her reaction; reassuring her that it’s okay to move further up their stairs as they connect to a corridor.
His mood changes however as the stairs connect to the corridor that leads to the Astronomy Tower.
She notices the change; trying to hold him even tighter as if she can protect him from the onslaught of emotions and memories crashing over him in a tidal wave.
Draco is silent as they walk up the stairs to the tower. (Y/N) grateful that these one remain steady under her feet.
He knew it would be empty. Astronomy being an elective subject with the classes taking place at night to better study the stars.
“Where are we, Draco?” (Y/N) asks at the top of the stairs; watching him walk to the edge of the tower and lean against the railings.
“This is the Astronomy Tower.”
A pit forms in her stomach; he had told her about that night – what he felt, what he wanted.
“Draco,” She whispers, joining him at the railings, looking at the view.
“I’m okay,” He whispers, just as quietly – his voice carrying despite the sound of the wind from being this high up.
She places a hand on his cheek, turning his face so his eyes are on her.
“You have come so far, Draco Malfoy. You are not the boy you were when you studied here. You are an incredible man and you are going to be the best Healer St Mungo’s will have ever had the pleasure of working with. You are loved; by me, by your parents. You have reason now. You are not who you used to be; do you understand me?”
He nods, eyes lines with the silver of unshed tears. He puts his hand on top of hers, keeping it pressed to his cheek, “I do. I understand.”
“Good,” She says with a fierce conviction.
The fire quickly leaves her eyes; overwhelming adoration replacing, “I love you, Draco. Now let’s replace your memories of this place with a good one.”
“What did you have in mind?”
She grins wickedly, pulling on the collar of his suit jacket.
---------
They finish their tour of the school by the Black Lake. The sun is warm, but the wind is frosty as it blows around the young couple. She pulls him down to sit beside her on the lakeside. For a while, they take in the view. The lake stretches on for what seems like miles, and the towering moors provide the perfect backdrop for what could be a Victorian gothic novel.
It is beautiful. It is wild.
“It’s so lovely here.” She murmurs, her hand running through the grass to find his.
He hums, “You should see it in winter when it snows. It’s another place entirely.”
“I bet it is.”
“Thank you for coming with me today.”
“There was no doubt about it, Draco.”
“Still. It means a lot to have you here as I work through this.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” She looks at him, trying to gauge his emotions, “How do you feel?”
He sighs, “I don’t know. I’m feeling a lot of things right now. Sadness, nostalgia, sentimentality, happiness. So much is going on in my mind.”
“Do you regret coming?”
He’s quiet as he thinks over his next words, “No. I don’t think I do.” He says finally, quietly but firmly.
He sweeps his gaze over the majestic school standing proudly against the backdrop of the wild Scottish highlands and moors. Something in his chest begins to unwind; finally releasing its tight grasp on his heart and lungs. Something within him feels light again and he takes his first free breath.
---------------
In the last year, Dr. Jenkins office has begun to feel something akin to a second home. Every Thursday he takes a seat on the maroon Chesterfield couch and proceeds to tell the doctor how his week has been.
This week he knows that he has made progress; that he has achieved his final target.
He isn’t cured. There isn’t a miracle fix for his PTSD other than time, patience and therapy but he has earned the right to feel some pride at achieving this target.
“Did you go?” Dr. Jenkins asks.
Draco nods, “I did. I went back.”
“How did you feel?”
“Scared. Nervous.”
Dr. Jenkins closes her writing pad, and puts the lid on her pen. “That’s understandable, Draco. But how did you feel by the end of it?”
His blues eyes shine with unshed tears as he states loudly and proudly, “I had forgiven myself.”