Potentially Damaged


Healer Damion J. Lukinwinner of St. Mungo’s mental stability ward had been busy all morning. Ever since the Second War had ended, his department had been overrun. So many of the Wizarding Worlds’ finest had come away with severe mental trauma. Some of the greatest heroes had lost their minds completely, Ronald Weasley being a prime example of that. The youngest Weasley son now occupied a room in the permanent ward where his wife would often come to visit. Lukinwinner pitied the poor woman. She was still in the prime of her life and could have easily found another husband, but she refused his suggestions that she move on, that her husband was never going to be who he was before. Hell, the man didn’t even recognize his own mother, let alone his two-year-old daughter.

He sighed as he sat at his desk to fill out even more paperwork. His biggest, most high profile patient was coming in today, and rumor had it, the young man was going to be ranting his head off. He was always ranting about the girl who didn’t love him, but should have, and ran off with his rival instead. Why the two grown men were still rivals was beyond the grasp of Lukinwinner’s mind. They had helped save one another in the war for Merlin’s sake!

Lukinwinner tired to stifle a moan as his secretary announced the arrival of his patient. He got up, prepared to show the most professionalism he could muster when the younger man swept into the room. The man didn’t even wait for the Healer’s invitation before beginning his rant for the week.

“ ‘Sometimes, you just have to realize that things were never meant to be.’ That’s what she told me! Can you believe it? That’s what she told me! It’s like she doesn’t even know who I am!”

Lukinwinner tried not to roll his eyes at the dramatics, as if anyone could ever forget who this guy was. The healer sat down at his desk and tried to redirect his attention to what his patient was now saying, as he had in fact, zoned out for a second or twenty.

“Because, frankly, I still think it was meant to be. She doesn’t. She tells me that I’m wrong – has been telling me that I’m wrong for the past three years. She says I just don’t like to listen. Isn’t that one of the craziest things you have ever heard?”

Mumbling something in the affirmative, Lukinwinner nodded his head and urged the young man to continue. Judging by the amount of steam the other man was building up, the pair of them could be here all night, and Lukinwinner much preferred the idea of a quiet evening with his wife.

“She was supposed to be the one to save me from the tortured life that I lead. Well, all right, perhaps not so tortured, but at least damaged. I am damaged; I always have been.”

The Good Healer tired very, very hard not to snort and was forced to cover the smile taking over his face with his hand. It would not do for this man to think Lukinwinner didn’t respect him. This patient had power and money. It was best just to pacify him. Luckily, the younger man was completely oblivious and just kept talking.


“Regardless, she was supposed to be the beautiful girl with a giant heart who was supposed to redeem me. Well, maybe not redeem but at least save. I needed saving. But, no! She has to go and fall in love! Well what about me? I fell in love! I fell in love with her!”

“Yes, but–” Lukinwinner tried to interject here, but his patient just shot him a nasty look and kept going, only the volume of his voice changing to imply annoyance. Lukinwinner decided then that it was just better not to try and reason with the clearly delusional man.

“She tells me that she used to love me – that she used to love me so much that it ate her up. So then I’d ask, ‘Well, why can’t you still love me?’ And she answers, ‘Because I love him.’

“Him. He’s all she talks about. How wonderful he is, how charming he is, how absolutely freaking perfect he is! I do believe I am the only one to realize just how imperfect he is. Especially for her. I hate him. I have always hated him, and no matter what he did in the war, I will never forgive him. I don’t care that he saved my life. That doesn’t give him the right to steal the best girl I ever had!”

Lukinwinner had to bite his tongue soundly to keep from speaking at this point, but he knew that when this man started talking about ‘HIM’ it was never going to be good.

“I actually asked her to marry me. I went out and found the most beautiful ring money could buy. Of course, by the time I got there, she was already wearing a ring. Some dainty little thing with a diamond less than half the size of the one I was willing to put on her finger. I asked her how she could wear a ring so unworthy of her, and she told me with quite the pitying look on her face that she had always liked more delicate things.

“And then she went off on this speech about how she loves him, and that’s why she agreed to marry him – not because of the ring. I don’t want her to love him! I want her to love me! Don’t you get it? She’s supposed to love me! I’m the hero! The hero is supposed to get the girl! Me! She’s supposed to love me!”

As the overdramatic and clearly distraught young man’s voice reached a particularly harsh crescendo, Lukinwinner reached for the box of tissues that lay in wait underneath his desk for just such occasions.

The tissues were waved off, and the young man walked towards the door.

“Thank you, Healer Lukinwinner. I feel much better. I’ll see you next week!”

Lukinwinner waited until he was sure the young man was gone. He really hated seeing him. It wasn’t like it did any good, anyway. With a heavy sigh, he flipped open the folder in front of him.

“Mister Harry James Potter,” he read with a shake of his head. With the swift wave of his quill, he crossed out the line reading “Mostly Stable” and rewrote the words “Potentially Damaged.”

Yes, Harry Potter was potentially damaged, potentially psychotically damaged. After today, Healer Lukinwinner was more than willing to sign Draco Malfoy’s request for a restraining order for himself and his fiancé Ginny Weasley.

Author notes: A/N: Of course the idea of “let’s trick them to thinking it might be Draco!” is not my idea, but as far as I know, the plot line is mine :-). The main characters, however, do not belong to me. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought.

~PS

The End.
Pipperstorms is the author of 21 other stories.
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