Body And Soul

one

The door jingled when Draco walked in.

Despite his expectations of being immediately mauled by a handsy Harry Potter, Draco was instead met by a small, sunny waiting room, decorated tastefully in tropical greens. To soothe, Draco supposed, but still, he was surprised by the lack of Gryffindor colours.

A receptionist sat neat the door, sorting through files.

Draco had to clear his throat to get her attention.

"You must be Draco Malfoy," she said glancing up at him. She knew the answer, of course, Draco could see the recognition in her eyes. Not to mention that she'd have to have been living under a rock to not know his face or name after the war. Merlin knew it had been slandered in every paper printed since then.

"Yes," he said anyway, indulging her clueless act. "I have an appointment at noon."

She nodded and handed him a form.

"I just need you to sign this release form and I'll let Mr. Potter know you're here."

Draco glanced over the release, only half taking in the words before signing it.

He took a seat by the windows, relishing in the early summer sun as he waited. His hip ached from the pressure but his heart was drumming up such a beat, that for once he was distracted from it.

He wanted to be furious with himself for the obvious nerves but the last time he'd seen Harry Potter, it had been across a sea of faces that wanted to take away his freedom and punish him for a life that he hadn't even wanted. And the time before that was amidst the wreckage of war, grief and bodies everywhere, the time before that there was fire and suffocating fear, Potter's heart pounding against his chest, and before that-

"Draco."

Draco started, heart leaping into his throat as Potter strode into the room. He was the same overwhelming presence all at once, draped in simple white healer's robes. That brazen confidence oozed off of him in the way he walked, the way he said Draco as though that was normal and to be expected. His hair was still the untidy mop of jet black, dark enough to shine like cold metal. His iris' were still so bright that it looked unnatural; like a tropical plant had climbed into his head and come into bloom behind his eyes.

"Sorry to make you wait," he said.

Draco stood. He had to swallow before he could speak.

Still, he didn't trust his voice and only nodded.

Potter's lips pursed slightly and he turned, gesturing for Draco to follow him. Draco did, relieved that Potter wasn't facing him enough to catch his limp.

"We'll be in this room," he said, holding it open for Draco to enter ahead of him.

Draco did and had to dig his heels into the tiles to stop himself from turning tail and running.

He was sure the dim lights and soft music were intended to calm clients, but the bed rather ruined the effect for him.

Was he really planning on laying down on it and letting Potter, of all people, touch him?

How on earth had he allowed himself to be talked into this?

The door clicked shut behind him and Draco's shoulders tensed even more.

He turned slowly to look at Potter. The other man was watching him with an infuriating calmness. As though Draco was just any new client that he didn't know previously. Someone that he'd never fought with or flew with or-

"So what is you reason for coming here?" Potter asked and Draco bristled.

"You're a healer, aren't you?" Draco sneered. "Should be obvious I didn't just come for a chat. I need healing."