seven days lost

He said to himself, and then he fell asleep, and he hoped that he could wash away all the undeserved illusions and all the entangled guilt in his dream.But when he woke up the next day, he was sitting at that table again.

He was horrified to discover that he had fallen into something worse than an obsession - he had formed a habit.

He couldn't escape, when he was struggling on the boundary between countless mornings and nights, he couldn't get rid of the prison of memory and emotion.Man is a creature of memory as well as a creature of emotion. He thought desperately that even a dry memory can sometimes have the power to destroy the soul. It only takes a word or a look to blow his soul away.

People are really too fragile.He's just too fragile.

"Have you ever thought about changing all that?"

He kept holding this sentence in his heart countless times and wanted to say it to Harry, but in the end he could only give it to himself.

"I want to. But I can't."

It was a crazy afternoon.In any case, when Draco thought of the crazy thing he did that afternoon after countless years, he still felt horrified.He didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but it definitely changed his life.

That day, he was wrapped in a black windbreaker with a stand-up collar. Instead of sitting by the open-air tables and chairs in the coffee shop as before, he walked slowly to the street opposite the Burrow.

It was not the first time for him to stand here. Sometimes when he felt his chest swell, he would walk alone through the street, leaning against the street tree and looking up at the tall house.He stood there dumbfounded, contented to see the fleeting shadow in the window, and went away, as if he had spent so much time just for a vague shadow.

He sneezed, looked at the closed door quietly, and countless thoughts flashed through his mind.Just as he was about to take action, the door opened suddenly, and Ginny, who was wearing sportswear and carrying a broomstick, came out.She waved to Harry and walked quickly towards the gate of the yard, and Draco quickly hid behind a tree.

When she left, he came out from behind the tree again.He saw Harry still standing at the door, seeming to be staring at her slender back.Then his eyes turned.He saw him.

Suddenly his heart beat like a drum.

He lowered his head, took a deep breath, and made up his mind to cross the road.He walked around a thicket of thorns, and finally stopped at the closed gate of the yard.

He raised his head and looked at the man fixedly.Between him and him was an overgrown yard with dragonflies and butterflies flying around and goblins hopping about in the dirt.His eye sockets suddenly turned red.

The man stared at him curiously, seeing all his anxiety and embarrassment in his eyes.Then he came across a gravel path in the grass.

"Excuse me, what's the matter with you?"

"Hi, you're Harry Potter, right?" he said, slowly taking out a business card from his pocket, his fingertips trembling slightly, "I'm Draco Malfoy, St Mungo hospital therapist."

The clear-cut boundaries were finally broken.

Ice 6

The method of keeping a diary was found by Draco after consulting countless related books. He didn't know if it was effective, but he had to do something, no matter who it was for.

The meeting on the first day went smoothly. He successfully persuaded Harry to start writing a diary, and handed him the mobile phone he bought.Harry can't use magic, they can only communicate with each other in Muggle way.For the sake of explanation, he painted out the patterns of other buttons on the keyboard, leaving only the answer button, and set a shortcut key to connect to the address book on the answer button.

After saying goodbye to Harry that day, he went home and lay down on the bed in his bedroom for two full hours, and then went to the bathroom to take a cold shower before he completely calmed down.He sat by the window in a daze, and suddenly stood up and opened the window, letting the cool wind blow his temples.

He let out a long breath.

He's finally taken the first step, Draco thought, he's finally not just the abandoned shadow of his memory, he's going to write him down in his diary as a special being, proof that he was once in his life existed.He was no longer part of that scene board.

For a very long time, he spent time alone.He thought of those sporadic words, those fleeting touches, and the tears he shed for him, all turned into bright lights in the night sky.

He finally understood—that seed had long since grown into a forest, that beam of light had long since converged into a sun, and that star had long ago turned into a galaxy all over the sky, entwining him seamlessly.

The morning after Harry got the diary, he called him for the first time.At that time, he was standing in the hallway of the Ministry of Magic's ninth basement floor, surrounded by silence.He clearly heard his heart beating.

"Hi, hello, is this Harry Potter?" He held his breath.

A calm and confused voice came from the other end of the phone: "Yes, who are you?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy, your healer."

"...therapist? I don't have any therapist."

"No, you have. You have a diary in a box under your bed, and you'll know what it is when you read it."

Although Harry was still skeptical, he hung up the phone politely.Draco heaved a sigh of relief, stuffed the phone back into his pocket, and walked back to the Department of Mysteries.

He was a little restless all morning, and in the evening he received another call, which caught him off guard.

"...Mr. Malfoy? I'm Harry Potter."

"I know, what do you want from me?" He gripped the phone tightly, trying not to let him hear his voice trembling.

"I—I want to ask you some questions. None of my friends are willing to tell me."

They soon made an appointment to meet.After putting down the phone, Draco apparated to the gate of the Burrow's backyard as fast as he could.He straightened the collar of the windbreaker, pulled it tighter, and took a deep breath.

After a while, the back door of the Burrow swung open with a creak, and the person he had been thinking about appeared not far away.Harry carefully closed the door behind his back and walked slowly through the swaying weeds in the moonlight.As if feeling a little cold, he sneezed and touched his nose.

Draco stood there waiting for him to approach, and Harry smiled at him when he saw him.That slightly trusting smile made his chest ache suddenly.

But what happened next was beyond his expectation.

He didn't expect Harry to recall some extremely important things in his life's journey so quickly, such as Dumbledore, the old man who fell from the tower and died.His face was contorted with the painful memory, and he grabbed his hand in a sudden, tightening it, as if to leave a blood hole in it.He shouted, groaned, and roared, his body trembling like a sieve.

"No, no... no... no... no..."

He squeezed his hand tightly, wondering what the hell he was seeing to cause such pain.

Did he know how Dumbledore died?Did he see him fall from the tower?Did he know that he pointed his wand at the unarmed old man before he died, trying to kill him?If he knew, would he still be willing to put his hand in his palm, would he still be willing to smile to himself?

At that moment Draco suddenly wished he would never think of these things.Why do you want to think about it?It is so painful, and they have made so many mistakes, what else can they do except pity, regret, and regret?

He stared at their clasped hands, which trembled with his trembling.He wondered how close he was to execution.

He is pushing himself into the fire pit step by step.

"I'm going to be okay?"

When everything finally stopped, the leaves swayed gently in the still night.Harry looked at him, his eyes dazed.

"Yes," he heard himself reply, "you will."

"I remembered Dumbledore, I remembered. I really..." He froze as he spoke, his voice hoarse.

Draco looked at him.He suddenly wanted to say, do you really remember?No, you didn't, if you really remembered, then you should have walked away from me, hated me, hated me, instead of sitting here complaining to me.I am not a person worthy of your confidance, I am your painful victimizer, have you ever seen someone complain to the victimizer?

"Potter, this kind of reminiscence is not a very good experience. If you don't want to go on—"

"No, it's impossible." He stared at him and said firmly, "Impossible. I have to think about it."

He didn't speak.

He should have known, he would have answered that.

He was literally digging his own grave.

On the third day of Harry's journaling, he had a seizure directly on the phone with him.Draco had known for a long time that he would face such a dilemma sooner or later in the process of memory being unearthed, but he didn't expect it to be so soon.

Everything is heading in the direction of rapid collapse.

He Apparated to the back door of the Burrow before he could say hello to Mr. Corso, but when he tried to reassure Harry he found the phone had been hung up.He froze for a moment, and immediately dialed back, but no one answered.

About two hours later, the cold wind made his hands sore, he pressed the dial key persistently, and the call was finally connected.

"Hey?"

"Is it Harry Potter?"

"It's me, what's wrong?"

"How are you? Can you tell me, I really—what you just said—"

"Sorry, I'm fine," the person on the other end of the phone paused