disclaimer: i've never been in a mental hospital. i don't know what they're actually like. everything is taken from research on the internet.

for ana, even though it's not that romantic so it's not quite a drarry, but... :3 (for halloween character challenge. a little bit more than a drabble, but...)

for the ql training camp, chaser 2 [unravel, inkling, flashback, otp dealing with mental illness]

for the houses competition, gryffindor, year 7 [themed, anxious]

for the otp pairing scenario [getting over a fight]

for the 2018 drarry comp [angst]

for assignment one, gryffindor [wandlore, task 2 - a character with a dramatic characteristic lacking something]

for hogwarts: fanfiction resolutions [a gift-fic for a hufflepuff, a non-common era [post war]]; writing club [otp section - first kiss; character appreciation - enemies to friends; book club - caine soren; showtime - so big/so small, liza's loves - title 'in a lonely place]; the insane house comp ["if one day you feel like crying, call me..."]; bath bombs challenge [heart 2 heart]; sticker challenge [malfoy manor]; tea challenge [deliciously dreamy]

for ilvermorny: bathbombs [dendric salts, oatmeal]; 3rd weekly [draco/harry, post-hogwarts]

thanks to di, ck, rose, miranda, and tiggs for betaing!

2520 words, by google docs o.O

Draco checks himself in after the war. He doesn't feel like he can even stay stable or normal in the real world. He doesn't even know what the real world is like anymore.

He doesn't know how to function anymore.

He's beginning to unravel.

Draco's not going to go around and parade that he's broken from the war, though—there are so many people that have suffered more than him, who have experienced far greater losses than him. His story isn't as important when there are people who have lost their family and friends. Sure, Draco lost Crabbe, but was Crabbe even his friend in the first place? They only ever interacted because of their parents. Draco lost something when he lost Crabbe, but it wasn't a friend.

All Draco lost because of the war was his sanity.

Nobody cared, of course, because why should they? Draco was part of the 'bad guys'. He was on the wrong side, he would always be on the wrong side, he could never redeem himself—and it made him crazy.

So, three days after the war, Draco checks himself into a mental hospital.

It's a Muggle mental hospital, not a wizarding one. He's not sure if wizards even have mental hospitals. Knowing wizards himself, he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't. They never did give a shit about Draco's feelings.

He's, honest to God, scared. He's never voluntarily imprisoned himself up before. From what he's heard about these type of places, it's basically locking himself up. The last time he was forced to stay in one place was when his parents and Voldemort wouldn't let him leave Malfoy Manor. He hated it. Now he's doing it on his own accord.

He really is insane.

The nurses there don't ask many questions when he first walks in. All he says is that he wants to check himself in because he's going crazy.

Maybe they can see that whatever questions they might ask him he won't answer. Yet.

They search him. They literally pat him down, but they only find his wand. Draco had to bring his wand when he came; he didn't feel safe without it.

He asks them not to throw it away, surprising himself by how shaky his voice is. They nod kindly, promising that they'll keep it. He doesn't completely believe them. They also explain that they don't want him to have anything that would enable him to hurt himself.

He's roomed with another guy. His hair is darker blond than Draco's, with green eyes that stare blankly up at the ceiling.

"Hi," Draco says to him, deciding to be friendly; he knows that no one will treat him with kindness if he doesn't first, and he could use a friend in this place. His roommate doesn't respond. "Okay."

Sitting down on his bed, Draco already regrets his decision to come. He doesn't belong here, yet he checked himself in anyway. This is his new life.

Draco falls into a routine. He starts his day with 9AM group therapy. It's his least favorite part of the day; he hates talking to other people about his problems, especially people he hardly knows. He's not forced to share, just encouraged, and it is nice to listen to other people's stories, to know that he's not the only one struggling. Still, he feels awkward just sitting there and not talking about his struggles. Group therapy's not his favorite, but it's bearable.

He has a lot of free time in between the group therapy and his own personal therapy. He's started to talk to his roommate. Well, Draco talks; his roommate doesn't. Instead, his roommate keeps a notebook on him at all times, for writing down notes to people, or even writing short stories that come into his head. Draco learns that his name is Ian Lume. He apologizes for ignoring Draco on his first day; sometimes he feels like he's not able to do anything. He was in a car crash a few years back and hasn't talked since. He's able to talk, he just can't. Draco gets that. Sometimes it seems easier to just stop talking. Ian's his first friend at the hospital, and it's nice to have a friend who didn't go through the war. Ian doesn't mind Draco talking non-stop to him, and that's nice, too. Draco's started to read the Discworld series with Ian. Well, Draco does the reading. Ian listens, sometimes writing down commentary in his notebook. The hospital has the whole series, up to date, and Draco's never read them before; he's never read any Muggle books.

Draco also starts to paint. He finds it relaxing, the brush on the canvas. He doesn't really know how to paint. He justs dips the brush into paint and lets his hand graze wherever it wills it to go. He doesn't show anyone his drawings, instead throwing them away when the nurses say the painting time is over.

He ends his day with personal therapy, the last slot before curfew. He tells his therapist, Dr Walker, the truth about everything; she already thinks he's crazy. Draco pours his heart out, telling her about magic, the war, his awful decisions. They diagnosed him with schizophrenia and depression, giving him pills as if it would make everything okay. He still takes all three pills they give him, though, the nurses watching him to make sure he does.

Draco falls into this simple routine, slowly becoming happier, becoming better, until Ian writes him a note one day that upsets him.

I'm checking out.

"What?" Draco asks, disappointed. He's actually made a friend in this place and now he is going to lose Ian.

I've been getting a lot better, Ian explains, his pen scratching the paper. I've felt—Ian pauses here, looking at Draco. He doesn't know what to say.

"Happier," Ian whispers.

"Oh." Draco's happy for Ian, of course, but he still feels disappointed. "That's great," he chokes out, trying not act too sad. Ian presses his pen to the paper once more.

Thanks to you.

The following week, Draco gets a new roommate.

"Hi," the person says, walking in with a nurse while Draco's sitting on his bed, reading. Draco looks up from his book to greet the person, remembering how he first felt in their position, but freezes as the person brushes away their messy black hair to reveal emerald colored eyes. "I'm—"

The person also freezes as he recognizes Draco.

Draco doesn't know what to do. He can feel his throat begin to close up. Is this what a panic attack is like? he wonders, in the back of his mind.

"Potter," he manages to get out. He realises that his voice is slightly shaky, which is just great. He loves feeling nervous.

No, Draco desperately thinks, hoping he's hallucinating. Not here. He's started to actually get better, he doesn't need Harry freaking Potter to come and ruin it.

"Draco," Harry says, giving him a curt nod, walking over to the empty bed and sitting down in it. They don't talk to each other for the rest of the night.

Draco can't sleep that night. Not with Harry one bed over. He keeps on replaying memories he's had with Harry and pointing out to himself where it went wrong. It wouldn't have been that bad to actually have been friends with Harry. He originally even wanted to be friends with Harry.

Draco had a talent for picking out the most powerful person. He learned it from his dad, who had drilled into his head that having friends in high places would bring him far. So, of course, Draco needed to become friends with the Harry Potter.

And then Harry rejected him.

It stung a little bit; Draco wasn't used to rejection, but he wasn't going to be an ass about it. He was a Malfoy. He was perfectly capable of picking his head up and moving along.

Even though he would always be on the outside, always looking in.

Always wanting to join that group.

Yet, he wasn't raised to be begging to be friends with the lower class. He was raised to be better than everyone else. If Harry didn't want to be his friend, Draco would never show that it hurt him.

The next morning, Draco checks the bed next to him right away, hoping that Harry arriving at the hospital had been a dream.

It wasn't.

Draco can recognize the back of Harry's head as he pulls on socks. Draco clears his throat, guaranteeing Harry knows he's awake.

"Good morning," Harry says, turning around to face him.

"No offense, but why are you here?" Draco asks abruptly, searching Harry's face to find out what he's thinking. It's as if God saw that Draco's doing better and wants all of that progress to become undone.

Harry shrugs. "I couldn't deal with everything on my own."

Draco gives him a look. Harry thought he was alone? "I haven't the slightest inkling about what you're talking about. What about your friends? What about your girlfriend?" Draco gives Harry a hard stare. He's someone who has real friends, can choose who he surrounds himself with, and he's claiming that he's alone?

"She deserves better than me," Harry explains, looking at the floor. "I broke up with her. Deep down she's a good person. Deep down I'm not."

"Yeah right," Draco says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The savior of the Wizarding World, not a good person? You're talking to someone who—" Draco pauses, wondering why he does this. Why does he constantly pick fights with Harry? "You're talking to someone with a Dark Mark," he says, in a quieter tone. "You're talking to someone who's actually made awful decisions. I can't…" He trails off, not knowing what to say. Why was he pouring out his feelings? Was it out of spite to Harry? To try and prove that he was actually a bad person?

"You're not the only person who's done bad in the war, Draco. You're not the only one who's gotten hurt from it." Harry looks tired, and Draco feels slightly bad for raising his voice. "I may have this godforsaken lightning bolt scar, but it's not the only scar I have."

With that, Harry gives him one last look, before walking out.

"I'm sorry."

The words taste bitter in Draco's mouth, but he still says them nonetheless.

"What?"

He didn't expect Harry's response to be so sharp.

"I'm sorry for getting upset with you, Potter, okay? I'm sorry that I—"

"Shut up," Harry interrupts, giving Draco a confused look. "Listen, I want to make something clear."

"What?" Draco says, confused. Draco was apologizing to Harry and he was being rejected? Again?

"I don't want to fight anymore," he said simply, shrugging.

"I wasn't fighting," Draco responds, getting angry. He was trying to be nice. "I was apologizing and then you—"

"Except now you're like this and you're—"

"Only because you started to—"

"Well, I think that we should—"

"No, you listen and accept my apology—"

"Listen to me!" Harry shouts, redness rising in his neck. Draco backs down. Sometimes, he supposes, he has to be submissive. "It's okay. I'm done fighting with you. You don't need to apologize."

"What?" Draco repeats. Was being nice always this confusing?

"I don't know why you're in here. All I know is why I checked myself in and honestly, I'm done fighting with you. I don't think that's good for either of us."

"So then what?" Draco asks.

Harry sticks out a hand. "Friends?"

Draco takes it.

"So why are you here?"

Draco cringes. Sure, he and Harry have become something like friends, but he doesn't expect such blunt questions.

"Why do you care?" he shoots back, walls immediately coming up. Why should Harry care in the first place? Why's Harry even being his friend? No one just asks out of their own curiosity, Draco knows this from his entire life. Everything has a reason behind it. Was Harry coming to the hospital in the first place just a ploy? Was it just some plot to make Draco feel even more depressed?

"I just wanted to know," Harry says. They're both laying in their beds, the lights off, but Draco can see Harry shift to look at him. "You don't have to answer."

"No, it's fine," Draco says, sighing. What's he supposed to say? "I just felt really depressed, I guess. I think it's better, a bit."

"Oh," is all Harry says.

"More people were affected by the war than just you, Potter."

"No, I know. I'm sorry if it came across as something different."

"It's fine," Draco says, rolling his eyes even though Harry can't see him. "I'm sorry I keep lashing out at you. I guess I'm sorta new at this 'friend' thing. Crabbe and Goyle…" Draco sighs.

"Hey," Harry says. Draco can hear Harry get out of bed and sit at the end of his. "If one day you feel like crying, call me. I can't promise to make you laugh, but I'm willing to cry with you."

"Thanks," he says, sitting up next to Harry. A few moments ago he was on the brink of falling asleep, but he feels wide awake now.

They're both quiet for a moment before a crazy thought comes to Draco. He leans into Harry, quickly finding his lips and kissing them, hard. Draco doesn't do soft.

After a moment, Harry pulls away.

"Whoa," he says. Draco's close enough to see him blink.

"I need to go use the bathroom," he says, standing up immediately and stumbling through the darkness to the door.

Draco's panicking and he doesn't know what to do. He's finally become friends with Harry and now he's ruined it.

He's currently sitting in the bathroom outside of his room, regretting everything. His breathing is fast and he just hopes that nobody finds him for a bit; he'd rather stay alone, for now.

"Idiot!"

If Draco has one fatal flaw, it's probably falling in love too easily. He gets attached, he can't help it.

He finally became friends with Harry, except now he's pretty sure that he's in love with him.

He hates himself.

It just seemed so easy; leaning in and kissing Harry, but he regrets it, now.

He's finally got his breathing down to a normal rate when somebody knocks on the door.

"Draco?" Harry's voice leaks in through the door.

"Yeah?" Draco responds, his voice high.

"Can I come in?"

No. "Sure."

Draco opens the door, revealing Harry standing there.

"So," Harry says, putting his hands in the air. "What was that?"

"I don't know. I slipped," Draco says, sputtering the first thing that comes into his head. He tries to keep his embarrassment down, even though he can feel the heat rising up his neck. He's supposed to be cool, goddammit!

"You slipped?" Draco nods. "Onto my mouth?" Draco nods again. "Well, just so you know, this isn't me slipping."

"What do you mean 'this isn't you—"

Harry leans forward and shuts up Draco with one swooping kiss.

Oh.