Chapter 33: Shared Shadows

The idea had seemed absurd at first. Draco Malfoy sitting beside me in a cozy Muggle office, a notebook open in front of him, listening to a therapist ask him to talk about feelings. And yet, here we were. My dad had suggested it, gently, saying that healing worked best when both people were willing to understand not just themselves but each other. I had agreed hesitantly. Draco had agreed hesitantly. Neither of us were sure how it would go. I still wore the faint traces of Dark Melody, my dark hair and sharp gaze, but my stance was softer now, open in ways it had not been for months. The session began quietly. The therapist, a calm woman with a voice that seemed to draw the tension out of the room, asked us to describe what had hurt us most and what we wanted from each other moving forward. Draco started first, his voice careful, low, and surprisingly honest. He spoke about pride, about mistakes he had made, about the ways he had let his fear of looking weak hurt me instead of protecting me. His words trembled sometimes, a rawness I had rarely seen from him, and it made my chest ache. When it was my turn, I admitted everything, the betrayal, the anger, the nights I had felt like Dark Melody would never let go. I told him about the moments I had doubted us, the nights I had cried into my pillow wishing he would fight for me sooner, and how the anger had been my shield. For the first time, we did not interrupt each other. We did not argue. We listened. Really listened. Every glance, every gesture, carried meaning. Sometimes he would reach out to squeeze my hand when a memory felt too heavy. Sometimes I would nod, letting him know I understood the shame and fear he had carried too. By the end of the session, both of us were quiet, not because the work was done, but because the weight of honesty had filled the room in a way neither of us had expected. “You have changed,” Draco said finally, brushing a stray strand of my dark hair from my face. “I did not realize how much I needed this. To understand, to really see you.” “I know,” I whispered. “I did not either, at first. But maybe this is the way we make sure we do not lose each other again.” He smiled softly, a vulnerability behind it that was rare and precious. “We will figure it out,” he said. “Step by step.” I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and hope. The session had not fixed everything. The shadows were not gone. But sharing them, together, made them lighter. For the first time in months, I felt like we were moving forward, not just side by side, but truly together. And as we left the office, walking back toward Hogwarts under the soft afternoon sun, I realized that healing was not just about surviving alone. It was about surviving with someone who cared enough to stay.