________<br/><br/>Scheduled after working hours, the DMLE laid barren when Harry finally headed back from the department Mind Healer and his first session with her. Though he had no reason to expect it, Harry still felt the phantom itch of Legilimency in the back of his mind, although, more likely, he just hadn’t been asked about his state of mind for a decade. The expected vulnerability and self-reflection had felt both uncomfortable and unwarranted, and the conversation had left him even more exhausted than his physical evaluation yesterday. Perhaps worst of all, it had only been the first of five.<br/>With each step through the halls, any considerations about Towthorpe and stress gave away for everything he couldn’t share with the Mind Healer; when she had asked if Harry was able to relax at home, Harry hadn’t been able to share that, for weeks, he had barely set foot back at Grimmauld.<br/>Harry had returned to his office with no intention of going home tonight, either. Selfishly turning Draco as a balm for a sore mind, he all but jumped when he opened his door and found Draco at his desk, taken aback by the way thought and reality blurred and overlapped.<br/>It took a moment for a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth, but it was there, brightly and relieved.<br/>“Hi, love,” he greeted as he shut the door behind him, the tension in his shoulders slowly dissipating. It offered space for a grin and an exhausted little tease. “Busy?”