Author's Notes: L'o all! Ahhahahaha...yeah it's been a while. *cough* Between holidays, story requests (and slacking off) this has taken a while to get to. This chapter is shorter than the others (I'm pretty sure) but there's some progress as well as interesting factors that come afoot, ho!

Disclaimer: So I think it's rather obvious; not my chars. The plot is mine, though.

Other: I've had someone ask who was going to be the 'dominate' one this relationship. I tend not to follow the 'laws of yaoi' (Charx is ALWAYS top because of blahblah and Chary is ALWAYS bottom because of yadda yadda) but it did make me curious as to what people expect/are looking forward to. Well?

Hope you enjoy! :P

When Draco's mind clawed its way back to consciousness it was to brilliant sunlight pouring in through his window, the gauzy curtains doing its part in looking pretty but keeping no light out. The blond laid still, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and beyond that for sounds on the other side of his door. It was obvious what had happened; he'd fainted. Fainted. In front of Potter, of all people. Potter, who must have carried him back inside after the horrifyingly embarrassing display and tucked him into bed like some toddler. A look under the covers revealed that, besides his shoes and robes, Draco was still fully dressed. /Pity, that./

Dropping the cloth and letting his head fall back against the pillows Draco closed his eyes only to snap them open a moment later. He could see them behind his closed eyelids - dozens, maybe a hundred hungry mouths and muscled bodies, creeping towards him with their beady eyes and gaping mouths full of fangs-

Kicking at the suddenly too-cloying spread the blond climbed out of bed, skin hot and itchy in a way that made it feel like something was crawling over his skin. He ignored it, instead dropping to his knees to duck his head down to look under the bed. He didn't have to look at the markings on the flat, white stones that lined the mattress from the ground to know what they were. That didn't make the sting of humiliation any less sharp. With a tightening of his jaw Draco snatched up one of the SleepStones and rose to his feet, not bothering to put on his shoes or the robes in a pile on the ground at the foot of his bed, fallen from when he tossed away the duvet.

Potter was in the kitchen when Draco blew in like a whirlwind, sitting with a mug of tea and what seemed to be a letter. At Draco's entrance the vivid green eyes looked up, going from relived to wary then neutral in a matter of moments. "Malfoy. How are you feeling?"

Draco held up the stone in response, the carved rune for 'dreamless sleep' visible. "You knew. You knew that I wasn't having nightmares because of this. Do you think of this as a joke, Potter? You would keep me here, make me think I had improved, take my money and send me off, only to have me come back when I 'relapsed'?" Draco knew that the sneer that curled his lip was cold and cruel. "How long were you going to keep up the charade? Or do you do this with all of your patients to keep a steady flow of income?"

Draco had the satisfaction of seeing Potter's nostrils flare and jaw clench a moment before the git responded in measured tones. "You have an extreme case," Potter started, setting down the letter and his tea as he rose. "It isn't realistic to expect to be cured in a matter of a week." A burning in his cheeks and up his neck gave way to Draco's embarrassment though perhaps Potter would take the flush for anger. "The SleepStones are as much for our safety as for that of my home and any creatures that may live in the area. It's common practice, not meant as a permanent solution."

"You can't expect progress if we sit idly by, either!" Draco snapped, fingers clenched around the stone. He wanted to hurl the palm-sized weight at Potter's face. "I want real results. Not some half-arsed dream suppressant and false praise that will do me no good in the real world!"

Potter's voice was infuriatingly calm when he spoke, no sign of the earlier frustration in his face. "Are you upset because of your earlier reaction or because you feel as if you've failed yourself?"

"Fuck you, Potter," Draco all but hissed before throwing the stone at him, turning away to storm out of the room before he could see if it hit its mark. Making for his- the guest room, Draco took up his wand from the nightstand and with angry, jerky movements set to Summoning his trunks and clothing. "Fuck this," he ground through clenched teeth, robes tossed into the chest somewhat haphazardly. "Fuck him. Fuck those fucking disgusting things. Fuck this place-"

"Malfoy."

Whirling around with his wand raised Draco ignored the warning crackle of the house wards and the way several robes fell mid-flight as he jerked his attention to Potter. "If you've come to apologize, keep it," Draco snapped. "I can do without your condescending babble and lies."

Potter raised his hands and while he didn't step into the room, Draco noted, he kept a foot braced against the door. "I'm here to propose a bargain."

The words were so unexpected that Draco paused, eyes narrowing to slits. "That you'll never try to contact me again and I won't hex your balls off?"

He didn't even get the satisfaction of Potter lowering his hands to try to protect said body part. /Not that he has to worry, what with the wards and all,/ Draco thought bitterly. "No. I admit that I was taking things rather slowly. I wanted you to get comfortable with the surroundings and with me." Draco's lips pressed into a thin line of warning and Potter continued. "We will start the immersion part of the program sooner rather than later. Tomorrow," he added as Draco opened his mouth. "We'll bully through and push forward with the treatment. I just ask that you give me the rest of the month before you decide if you wish to stay or go."

Wand hand remaining steadily on him Draco met Potter's eyes. They were quietly calm with a flicker of brightness that could be taken for determination - or desperation, in another light. Draco didn't really think that Potter wanted him to stay for the money. Humiliation and Pensive memories, perhaps. Even then the tousle-haired man hadn't shown any indication that he was secretly planning to sell Draco's weaknesses to the press. There was just under two weeks left in the month - enough time that there should be progress, if any, to Draco's condition.

"On one condition," Draco said, slowly lowering his wand. Even with how better trained at hiding his emotions he had gotten Potter's head still went slightly up at the words, chest expanding as if holding his breath. "You get rid of those bloody stones."

Potter opened his mouth as if to contest but the set expression on Draco's face made him think better of it, bobbing a nod instead. "Alright. Thank you."

The two stood in terse silence for some moments, Potter shifting a leg before thinking better of it and Draco immobile and impassive. Potter broke first, sighing and ducking his head. "I'll just get the stones, then," he muttered before drawing his wand, swishing it at the bed. The nonverbal spell caused the flat white stones uncoiling from underneath the bed in a way that made Draco flinch. Giving the blond one last, fleeting look Potter turned and walked off, the stones reminding Draco uneasily of Nagini following her master.

Drawing his gaze away from the doorway Draco flicked his wand, the fallen robes rising from the ground to drift back to the closet followed shortly by the ones that had been packed. Part of him had gotten so upset because Draco himself hadn't thought to use SleepStones at the Manor. It was something mothers put under the beds of their children who were prone to nightmares, something that hadn't plagued Draco until the War. In the case of children only one stone was required, set under the bed approximately where the child's head rested; unlike the Dreamless Sleep potion there was no addiction factor but the magic would fade with each use and having a Rune Master to re-enchant just a single stone was an expensive task, let alone the virtual army Potter had. It was embarrassing. Besides, Draco had gotten on without them for years; in two weeks time he either wouldn't need any assistance sleeping or would be the first to break Potters perfect cure rate. In both cases, Draco would be victor.

~.~.~.~.~

Heading back into the kitchen Harry dropped back into his seat with a heavy sigh. The letter he had gotten earlier sat waiting for him and he picked it up to frown at. Most of his post was being diverted to his home back in London but anything time-sensitive or important would find him at the forest-side house, as arranged. He could see why the note had made its way to him but that didn't make it any easier to bare.

A slanting, unfamiliar print stared up at him and Harry read the note again, anger all but radiating from the hastily scribbled words.

To Mind-Healer Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World;

You are known to take on even the most hopeless of cases, doing what you can to help the weak and downtrodden and lost souls with no one else to turn to. I, like much of Wizarding Britain, have come to admire you greatly. No, you did not turn to Auror work like we thought you would but you were still helping people who needed it and that I could respect.

It has come to my attention that you've taken on a certain Death Eater Scum for treatment. Needless to say I was appalled, baffled and denied that you could even consider doing such a thing. Don't you realize that they should be left to suffer with their guilt for those they've killed? That living with their phobias and fears if the least that we can hope for, especially for those who were not rightfully thrown into Azkaban? You have a good heart but even you can go astray, reaching out to souls too damned to make a lick of difference in any way.

Leave it be, Mr. Potter. Do yourself a kindness and send the bastard away, as you should have when he first approached you. Whatever it is that ails him will only grant a fraction of the torment and pain that we of Wizarding Britain have gone though, the both of us included.

I hope that you will see the Light and do what you must to set things right.

- A Friend.

The owl that had delivered it was unfamiliar and had flown away the moment Harry untied the note from its leg. Rapping a finger against the table it sat upon Harry shook his head slightly. /So, someone knows that Malfoy's here and doesn't want me to help them. What good did they think this letter would do?/

The gushing title followed by somewhat condescending contents didn't make Harry change his mind; in fact, it made him all the more determined to cure Malfoy. If the person who sent the letter knew that the blond was with him and being healed for a phobia it probably wouldn't be too long in guessing to figure out what it was that made Malfoy seek him out. That kind of information could be dangerous in vengeful hands.

It was part of the reason that Harry was willing to fight so hard to get Malfoy to stay. He hoped that he could show the other enough progress to convince him to remain until he was fully cured; if not then, at least give him the tools in order to deal with and work on his phobia after he left. Another part - a small, quiet part that grew louder in the moments spent laying in his bed and wrapped in darkness - was starting to actually like the git. When Malfoy wasn't being bristly and let his guard down he was actually good company, the snarky sense of humor hilarious when it wasn't directed at Harry or his friends. He never looked anything but perfectly pressed when coming out of his room in the mornings but Harry also saw him at his weakest during sessions and earlier, unconscious on the grass with his hair fallen around him like a disrupted halo.

Shaking the thought away Harry took up the letter, walking to the sitting room where the hearth burned in a subdue manor. Harry held it out, ready to drop it into the flames but he paused and drew back, shaking his head. No, he couldn't afford for Malfoy to find the letter and use it as an excuse to lock himself up in the Manor but he couldn't burn what could be valuable evidence. It had been wiped of any traces of magical signature leaving only Harry's own behind but it might be possible to track the writer in other ways. Whoever had sent it did not wish to be easily caught but they were bound to make a mistake, especially once they realized Harry intended to keep treating Malfoy. At any rate, Harry figured they wouldn't try anything of the sort again for a long while, if at all.

Tucking the note into one of his desk drawers Harry set outside to check the wards surrounding his cottage. It was better to be safe than sorry and something as simple as a tear in the protections could end with disastrous results.

~.~.~.~.~

He was running.

Draco didn't know how long he had been doing so, arms pumping, legs kicking, nude save for a leather collar around his neck. His muscles burned and his skin was coated in sweat, feet stinging as he stepped on invisible sticks and stones through a black landscape. There was a malicious, hissing laughter that followed him no matter which way he turned, chasing him over black hills and down burnt valleys, his breath becoming shorter with each step, skin cold and clammy and burning all at once as the collar seemed to constrict.

The collar hissed.

Unable to even gasp for breath Draco's hands flew up to the snake wrapped around his throat, coiled body growing larger and wrapping more tightly around his throat by the second. As his panicked heartbeat seemed to try to fling the muscle free of his chest and stars danced before his eyes something came into view besides the darkness above and below; a pair of glowing yellow eyes, the narrow slits fixing on him. It was all he could see of the snake until it opened its mouth, a forked tongue darting out of nothingness and hollow fangs dripping with venom came into view, glowing from within, centimeters from his face before the creature lunged-

"Malfoy!"

Draco struggled for a few moments before he recognized the voice, tightly-shut eyes flying open. He was in bed, tangled in the sheets and not a mini-Nagini, the material feeling heavy and damp where it touched his skin. When he turned his head to the door the blond could see Potter standing in the doorway, or rather could make out his outline due to the lighting in the hall behind him. Though Draco couldn't see the expressive green eyes he knew that they would be laced with concern and he closed his eyes, not wanting to risk seeing the pity there. "Did I wake you?"

The sound of bare feet against carpet met his ears, followed by a muffled drag of a chair being pulled on two legs. "The wards did," Potter replied and when Draco looked again the dark-haired man was dropping down into the chair pulled up beside the bed. "Did you want to talk about it?"

Shifting into an upright position Draco chuckled, the sound bitter and dry to his own ears. A moment later Potter had taken up the empty glass on the nightstand and filled it with conjured water, holding it out to the blond. "I understand if you don't want to," Potter said as the blond took the glass. "I'll sit with you until you can sleep."

It was only years of training that kept Draco from snorting into the glass, taking a careful mouthful to swallow before lowering it onto the blankets folded at his lap. "What, is Big Strong Potter going to keep the nightmares away?" Draco sneered. "I'm not a child."

"I know that."

Potter's face, when Draco paused to study the half that was touched by the hall lighting, was calm and - not cold, but serine. As if he didn't mind either way if Draco tossed him out on his arse or asked him to stay. Even bare-footed and bare-chested with his hair even wilder than during the day he looked perfectly at ease. Draco didn't know how he felt about that.

Taking another drink from the glass he shoved it at Potter, the calloused fingers warm when they brushed Draco's. "So, what about you? What nightmares keep you up at night? This one was like the others," Draco continued with a wave when Potter's mouth opened. "You know all about what unnerves me. Surely one fear from you is only fair."

Potter closed his mouth, expression considering for some moment before his head dipped in a slow nod. "Alright," he said slowly, raising a hand to point at Draco. "Though I'm warning you not to laugh. Got it?"

"Of course," the blond agreed, curiosity perking despite himself. Draco had assumed that, like himself, any of Potter's nightmares would be focused around the war. When the unruly-haired man spoke, however, it wasn't at all what the blond had been expecting.

"I still have this one, on occasion," Potter said, sitting back in the chair and crossing his ankle over his left knee, where it bobbed. "I'm at King's Cross, with all my things heading to platform 9 and 3/4. I go to rush through the pillar but when I get through to the other side the station's deserted. All the color is washed away, leaving the world in black and grey." Draco noted that while the bobbing knee had stilled the hand clutching at the left of Potter's pajama bottoms had gone white from the grip. "Then I'm waiting up in my- the cupboard under the stairs. It's locked from the outside and no matter how hard I bang on the door or how loud I shout, no one comes. I realize then that Hogwarts was only a dream and my aunt and uncle have left me to starve, in the dark, alone."

The silence that hung in the air after Potter's tale was a choking thing and Draco folded his hands over his lap, gaze flickering from the still knee to the clutching fingers to the downcast eyes. He didn't know much of anything of Har- Potter's life with his Muggle family but Draco had a feeling that the fear Potter had wasn't entirely unfounded.

"Thank you." The quiet words brought that green gaze snapping to him, which Draco met as he inclined his head. "I don't feel so bad, knowing that you're broken, too. If you were able to get your life together then I know that I'll be fine."

Draco wasn't sure if the words would work, especially when the bare shoulders stiffened and Potter seemed to be trying to turn to stone. Then he exhaled, a brief chuckle following the sound as the clutching hand relaxed enough to set about abusing the dark mass of hair. "Glad to see my pain helping someone," Potter said, looking at Draco from under his dark fringe. "Think you'll be able to sleep now?" At the blond's nod Potter rose to his feet, turning to replace the chair back at the desk and heading to the doorway. At the door he turned, raising a hand in a half-wave. "Night, Malfoy."

"Good night, Potter," Draco replied, waiting until the door closed before setting his glass aside and shifting to lay down. Mind mulling over the story that Potter told him Draco didn't notice as sleep crept up to claim him, dreams of living collars and man-eating snakes kept at bay for the remainder of the night.

~.~.~.~.~

When Draco dressed and exited his room shortly after sunrise he was surprised to see Potter already up, a kettle set out and a mug of tea held lightly in both hands. He wore muggle denims and a red shirt so faded that Draco would call it pink were it not for the darker color around the hem that told of its prior life and the inept cleaning charms used on it over its lifetime. The eyes that met his own upon entry were awake and aware and the blond wondered how long Potter had been up for. "Morning."

Inclining his head Draco made for the kettle and mug set on the counter, adding the water to the tea already set inside to let it steep. He was more nervous about the day then he was willing to admit and the task of preparing tea gave him something to focus on, even if it was only getting cream and sugar as he waited.

Potter waited until he had settled down with his own tea before speaking again, elbows resting on the table and mug raised as if to take a drink. "I was thinking-"

"Isn't that frightening," Draco murmured, unable to resist.

Though Potter rolled his eyes he continued. "Since we'll be cramming as much work as possible in the next two weeks, I've enlisted the help of a friend."

The words made Draco stiffen, fingers going white where they clutched at his mug. "You've disclosed my condition to someone?" He kept his voice soft and delicate and an iceberg couldn't have been colder. Potter grinned.

"Not in the way you're thinking. Come on."

Still wary of what was to come Draco rose and followed the other, who was heading to the sitting room. As Potter stepped in and went to the medium-sized table Draco was able to catch sight of what sat on it and froze, foot hovering mid-step. "It's a nest."

Something in Draco's tone made Potter look quickly to him before turning back to the pile of soil and grass on the table, bits of white showing here and there. "That's right. The eggs are under a Stasis Charm - I found them at hatching."

Somewhat reassured that hoards of small, slithering creatures weren't waiting to burst out at his approach Draco took the remaining steps forward, licking his lips. "So - you would have me watch their hatching?"

Pulling back the chair adjacent to the one Draco stood behind, the dark-haired man sat, folding his fingers together on the edge of the table, a hand span from the pile. "That's part of it. I want you to dig out each egg and hold it while it hatches." Potter held up a hand as Draco opened his mouth. "The Stasis Charm won't wear off until you've held an egg in both hands for five seconds. What I want from you isn't hard," he continued, eyes like emerald lightening fixed on Draco. "And it's a rare opportunity. But if you can't do it I can just return these to the mother."

~.~.~.~.~

Harry knew that he was taking a risk; several, really. He had found the grass snake with her brood last night, after Dra- Malfoy's nightmare, and stayed up throughout convincing her to let him take them for the hatching. He was going on a limb that suggesting failure would force Malfoy to act. He was also risking the lives of at least one of the hatching snakes, most if Malfoy lost it and started smashing. Much of his immediate future depended on what Malfoy did.

Harry was able to breathe his first sigh of relief when he saw those shoulders straighten, the blond moving forward and sitting in the chair near Harry. That was a victory in itself; keeping to his feet would have indicated a plan for a quick getaway.

"They're very delicate," Harry said, watching the blond's closed-off expression. /Likely hiding disgust./ "Too much pressure could puncture the egg and hurt the snake inside. You have to be careful to just cup each with your palms. Got it?"

"I've a phobia, Potter. That doesn't make me an idiot." From the way the blond's fingers twitched he seemed likely to just the opposite but Harry bit his tongue.

"Alright. I trust you."

~.~.~.~.~

Today was going to be a day of surprises, it seemed.

With the challenge issued he couldn't very well back down or fuck things up, though. With Potter's gaze on him, Draco raised a (slightly trembling) hand, carefully brushing aside the soil around one of the oblong shaped eggs barely visible from where he sat.

The egg, when he scooped it up, was surprisingly warm and felt almost like leather. Draco could see the makings of a hole at the extended top, the hint of a dark nose inside. With a glance to Potter, who's expression was solemn as he nodded, Draco licked his lips, swallowed and shifted the egg from his right hand, bringing the left up to cradle it between both palms.

Draco's heart was pounding. In what seemed like the blink of an eye the egg moved, rocked on his palm by the creature inside of it and a sound that was suspiciously close to a whine reached his ears. /Stop it, it's just a - a baby snake./ Draco was all but biting through his lower lip as the end of that nose pushed free, a small, gray-green and somewhat blocky head wiggling from side to side before it started to slither out of the shell.

Despite his own anxiety there was a clear part of Draco's mind, present in a way that it never had been before. /It's quite small, really./ The snake, seemingly unaware of the being many times its size holding power over its life, continued to slither out of its former home. Though his skin prickled and tried to recoil from the touch the dark colored serpent slid onto his palm, making its way to Draco's left thumb before slowly sliding around it.

It was disgusting - the snake's skin was slick with some sort of egg-goo and Draco could feel the muscles tensing and relaxing as it moved, settling around his thumb and letting a forked tongue flicker in his direction. His throat bobbed as he tried swallowing a half-dozen times, both due to the lack of moisture in his mouth and the rolling of his stomach. The cool part of his mind was able to weigh out his feeling and determine them to be mostly of disgust, rather than fear. Though the feeling trembled in the depths of his being it seemed foolish, somehow, to fear something no longer than his palm and thinner than his index finger and still blind from birth.

"-foy?"

Jerking his gaze away from the small figure seemingly content to rest on his thumb Draco looked at Potter. The man's expressive green eyes were wide and he had half-risen out of his chair, one hand braced against the table and the other gripping the back of his chair. He'd obviously been in the process of rising to his feet. "Are you alright? How do you feel? What's going through your mind right now?"

/He's probably worried that I'd crush the thing,/ Draco thought with a repressed snort. With the initial birth done with and no sting of pointed teeth sinking into his flesh the trembling had stopped, the pounding of his heart slowing to a nervous half-skip. "I'll survive," the blond said after turning his gaze back to the snake, curled up at the base of his thumb and possibly asleep. "It's a disgusting, vile creature but I don't feel as if it will try to attack me." He couldn't bring himself to raise his other hand to stroke the slick-looking skin and didn't try.

"That's wonderful."

When Draco looked again Potter's expression had changed completely, the anxiousness slipping away and those green eyes lighting up as he gave a dazzling smile. "Brilliant. Here, let me."

Raising the hand with the small creature Draco closed his eyes as Potter reached for the snake, teeth clenched as he felt the slick coils slid off of his thumb. There was a sound like a whisper that was too low for Draco to hear and the blond realized the snake must have woken up due to the disturbance. After a deep breath grey eyes opened to see Potter bending to fiddle with something under the table, sitting upright once he was done. "Alright, that's one down. Only 27 more to go."

"What?"

"Well, they won't be able to hatch until you hold them." Potter had the nerve to fold his hands behind his head, pushing his chair back so that it balanced just on the back legs. "There might be a dud or two but we won't know until they're out. And their mum will be rather upset if she only gets half-hatched babies back."

Draco ground his teeth for nearly ten seconds before forcing his jaw to relax, turning his attention to the next barely-visible egg. "Fine. Easy enough." His hand didn't tremble as he reached for it though the blond's pulse did start its stuttering beat again, leaving little hesitation between removing the egg and holding it with both palms. /I will not let some stupid phobia rule my life./

~.~.~.~.~

Harry watched and counted as Draco removed and held each egg, taking the newborn snakes after the blond held each for at least a minute. Harry knew that the mother snake would likely forget about her brood as soon as she caught their sent on the air; grass snakes were born independent and would need no nurturing from her. He knew that Draco wouldn't know that, though, the white lie forcing him to continue with his rehabilitation.

/And there I go, calling him Draco again./

Harry shrugged, the motion unseen by the focused blond. Harry though of Draco and Malfoy as two different people, as odd as it sounded; Malfoy was prideful, cruel, cold and listened to himself above all others. Draco was funny, sharp-tongued and knew his weaknesses and limitations and was willing to push himself to get past them. Malfoy was the boy that Harry knew and Draco the man he was trying to be.

Watching as Draco dug his way through the pile with express concentration etched onto his features Harry did his best to ignore the small, humming warmth in his gut. /I'll have to have him ready in two weeks for more than just one reason,/ the healer thought as the 23rd snake hatched, waiting for the minor flinch that Draco did when each snake touched his skin. It never came and the blond actually held out a flushed, slightly wavering thumb for it to flick its tongue at. /Before I do something that we both regret./

End Notes: Feel free to try and guess who it could be who's sent the note! I won't say if you're right or wrong but again, curiosity ^.^