The Thunder in My Heart

The Marauders Again

'I want to talk to my father,' Harry said, somewhat nervously, to Healer Huws. Draco watched him carefully, as did the therapist.

In a slightly unprecedented manner which only Harry could achieve, Draco had been allowed to stay during the session which was being held in the common room beside the roaring fire. With everyone gone, there was no chance of interruption.

'I'm not sure you're ready, Harry,' she said, concern etched across her pretty face.

Draco reached out and took his hand but didn't speak, it wasn't his place to interfere.

'It's plaguing me,' he said. 'I'm conscious of the map all the time, aware of it sitting in Mione's room, they're waiting for me and I think I'm better off facing it than running away. I can't pretend it's not there.' His fingers played mechanically with Draco's, winding and unwinding between them.

'Okay,' said Healer Huws warily. 'Well, I want to observe. And if I see any signs which I think are spelling a potential trigger, I will call time out and I want you to stop immediately.'

Harry nodded and looked at Draco.

'I'll go and get it,' Draco said.

Hermione had, in fact, entrusted it to him before she left, just in case Harry should want it. He loosened his grip from Harry's hand and went to his room. He was followed back by Crookshanks, who watched him closely.

Harry took it with slightly shaky hands and opened up the map carefully on the coffee table in front of him. Healer Huws sat back in the armchair opposite, watching silently, her brown eyes etched with concern.

'Do you know what she said to speak to them?' Harry looked at Draco with uncertainty in his eyes.

Draco moved to sit closer next to Harry, their thighs gently touching as he took Harry's hand. He said quietly to the blank parchment in front of him, 'Good afternoon Messrs Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail. Er, well, it's not so much that we're up to no good and we have no desire to see the map. We just want to talk to you.'

Nothing happened. They sat staring at the parchment but nothing appeared.

'What do we do?' whispered Harry.

Crookshanks jumped up on the coffee table, plonked himself down in the middle of the map and purred.

There was no way in hell that Draco was going to try and move the ginger lump but just as Harry reached forward to try and turf him off, a sepia scrawl of writing exclaimed just next to his paw: 'CROOKSHANKS! I've missed you mate.'

The volume of the purr increased as Sirius's writing began to fade away.

'PADFOOT! You needed to wait...'

'But Moooony, Prongs has frozen and no one was saying anything and someone needed to get things moving. Hi pup! How ya doing?'

'Sirius?' Harry whispered.

'Hello pup!'

'Oh Gods, Sirius, you're there. And you too, Remus?'

'Hello Harry.'

'Dad?'

'Hello, son.' Draco could have snorted, the writing was exactly like Harry's, but all sound was strangled as the writing spelled out, 'Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy.'

'Hello, Mr Potter,' he was sure he was blushing furiously.

'Dad?' Harry whispered. 'Are you, you know, like the portraits?'

'Not quite, Harry. We're an essence of our younger selves, put in the map...'

'...Oh Merlin...'