Flower
Dr. Bates had never experienced a child with psychopathic tendencies. In his line of work, tending to the children of upper-class families, he mostly dealt with depression, rebellious attitudes, or some traumatic event that the parents were trying to repress in their son or daughter. The worst he ever had was a young teen struggling to move past a sexual assault from when she was a child, from an older female teacher. She struggled to trust her parents who didn't believe her and female authority figures. It had taken time, yes, but Dr. Bates was able to handle it. He was happy to know that the young teen was now a medical student, he exchanged holiday cards with her.
Lily Potter was a housewife married to a man from old money, James Potter. Her husband had no real need to work, but he did anyways. As a result of his job, he was often away. It was one of the reasons Lily didn't work herself. She wasn't exactly clear on what he did, but Dr. Bates supposed he didn't require that information. She had found him through a list of associates, to see what could be done about her son, Harry.
She had discovered a number of weapons, teeth and other bones from an assortment of animals, and vials filled with blood inside of Harry's room. It was not from an interest in biology, but based out of the pleasure he got from killing. The boy had admitted to his mother after being questioned. Dr. Bates had never dealt with a child like Harry, but he was willing to try.
It was just past noon, and he was sitting across from Harry Potter. The boy dressed near entirely in black, the exceptions included the grey of his shorts, a bright red ribbon he had died around his neck, and the shiny silver buttons in his coat.
"Do you know why you're here?" Dr. Bates asked.
"Mum thinks I'm sick." Harry declared, he leaned back and folded his arms. "I'm not. Seeing you isn't going to make me not want to play."
"Is that what you do? Play, with the animals?" Dr. Bates wrote that down in his notepad. Harry saw the murder, mutilation, and collection of trophies as playing.
"Yes! It really isn't bad." Harry said.
"Is that why you attempted to hide it?" Dr. Bates noted how rapidly Harry's emotions shifted when being confronted.
"I knew mum would be mad." Harry pouted.
"And of what your father?" Dr. Bates asked.
"Dad knows nothing's wrong with me! It's just mum who's making me come here." Harry said.
Dr. Bates nodded. "How do you feel, your mother having you see me, and your father's own reaction?"
Harry's gaze hardened to a glare. "I don't see why it matters!" He snapped.
Bates decided to change the subject, making a small note to return to the topic of Harry's mother's disapproval later. It seemed to upset him, or was close enough to emotions that he considered it too personal to discuss immediately. "Are you often bored, Harry?" He asked. "Is that why you hurt those animals?"
"I'm bored all the time because I can never go anywhere. Mum thinks something's going to happen to me every time I leave home." Harry complained.
"Do you have any friends in your village?" Dr. Bates asked.
Harry hesitated. "No." He admitted. "I've never really been able to talk much."
"You're talking easy now." Dr. Bates said.
"Yeah, but, it's different." Harry said.
"How?" Dr. Bates asked.
"Just is." Harry shrugged. The psychologist nodded.
"What do you do to escape the boredom? Is it why you hurt the animals?" He repeated his question from earlier.
"It was fun." Harry stated.
"How was it fun, to you?" Dr. Bates asked.
Harry grinned. "It's like busting open a piñata. Cut or hit, out comes toys!" He laughed. It came out as a sickening giggle.
Dr. Bates gripped his pen tightly. For a second, just for a second, he didn't see a troubled child.
Flower
James was sent to pick up Harry from the muggle mind doctor. He didn't quite understand why muggles had mind doctors, or why it was so expensive, but Lily insisted their son needed to see him. He understood it was a bit worrying that Harry was killing animals, but he was willing to bet it was going to fade with time. It might be a sign of an interest in physiology; they should be sending him off to those weekend classes at St. Mungo's where they teach children all sorts of things like first aid and how the body worked. James should send him off to the hospital anyways, he doubted Harry liked going to this mind doctor very much. Maybe going to those St. Mungo's classes would make him happy!
"James Potter?" The mind doctor questioned.
"That's me." James grinned. "Harry! How was it?" He asked.
Harry scurried over to him, tucking himself underneath his arm. "Annoying." He declared, a pout on full-force.
James laughed. "Who knows, maybe your mum will be happy with you going today." He said.
The mind doctor spoke. "Sir, I advice strongly against it." James looked at him, frowning. "Harry needs to develop coping methods to avoid killing animals in the future or, one day, killing a human being." He stated.
"If you say." James said, shrugging. "Bet Harry'll become a Healer with his interest in bodies, yeah?"
"Healer?" The mind doctor asked, confused.
"Doctor." James corrected himself. He always forgot the terms for muggles. "Well, we'll be off!"
"Mrs. Potter knows his next appointment." The mind doctor said.
James nodded, scooping his son up in his arms. Even at nine, he was easy to tuck close to his chest and hold tight. He was going to be sad when Harry began to fight being held.
As he left the office, the mind doctor carefully watched him.
Flower
"How did it go?" Lily asked the moment her husband and son stepped into their home. "I should've gone myself, to talk to Dr. Bates-"
"Lily, you worry too much!" James laughed. "The mind doctor said something about Harry needing something to cope. And Harry said it was annoying. We shouldn't be making him go-"
"He killed animals!" Lily shrieked. "God knows how many! In the muggle, that's something budding serial killers do!"
"What does cereal have to do with dead animals? And how would he kill cereal? Lily, this muggle thing doesn't make any sense." James said.
"No! Serial! S-e-r-i-a-l! They kill more than three people, over a span of time." Lily said. "Harry needs to find a better output for his…Whatever it is. I don't want my son killing people."
James frowned, holding Harry closer to his chest. His son listening, though his head was tucked underneath James' chin. "He wouldn't kill people, Lily. We're better parents than that." He said.
"Then why did he kill those animals?" Lily questioned. "James, books say animal cruelty is a for-sure sign of a budding serial killer. Or, at least, a violent murderer. Think, he might end up a Dark wizard!"
"He killed those animals because he just doesn't understand death. He told me himself they never struggled or made a lot of noise." James said. "Surely, you can't think our son enjoyed killing them for the pleasure of killing them? Or for the idea of causing them harm? I know Harry better than that. He's a good boy. I think he just has an interest in bodies. We should send him to St. Mungo's for those weekend classes they have for kids. I bet they'd help more than some muggle mind healer, doctor, whichever."
"No, James." Lily snapped. "I won't be encouraging his desire to cut things open!"
"You're only seeing the worst in him! He's nine years old, Lily!" James snapped back. He was beginning to get annoyed. He loved his wife dearly, but the more he sat on it, the more he hated his son going to the mind doctor. He was probably filling Harry's head with lies about how wrong or freakish he was. James didn't like that. He loved his wife, but he would choose his son over her any day.
"Nine years old or not, one day he's going to be an adult. If we don't put a lid on this now, he could easily end up hurting people, not just animals." Lily said.
"That's what you think." James snapped. "You ever think all these budding killers of yours in the muggle world were driven to insanity by the belief of everyone around them, that they were going to be bad anyways, so you might as well as treat them bad. They were probably forced to that state of mind! Might have nothing to do with the animal killing!"
"James, you just don't understand what I'm saying." Lily dismissed him. "You know, you should coddling Harry the way you do. I love him, I do, but you still treat him as though he's a baby. Look at you, you're holding him like he's still a year old!"
"Why shouldn't I get to hold my son?" James said. "I'm not going to talk to you when you're like this. I'm taking Harry up to his room. And I'm going to put him in the St. Mungo's classes. If you have a problem with it, take it to the mind doctor." He snapped.
"This, children, is what we call a dummy cadaver." Healer Knight said, gesturing to the the fake, naked body laying across a shiny steel table. "See, we Healers use it to study the human body and to practice techniques so we can better help living people. Since this is a beginner's class, we're going to start with with very basic things."
Harry is sitting between two bored-looking, older boys. Harry doesn't understand how they can't be interested in what the Healer is talking about.
The Healer pulled down on a string from the ceiling and revealed a large, intricate map of thumb-thick arteries and fingernail-thin veins. "In every human body, we all have veins that carry our blood around. It spreads oxygen and nutrients. The heart," He tapped the heart in the center of the the figure. "Powers it all. Any questions?" No one spoke up.
He began to point at different spots. "These are our major arteries. If they are cut, we're in serious trouble. Most of the time, we can handle these injuries if they're taken to us Healers quickly enough. When you see a lot of blood, the first thing you have to do is judge whether it hit a major artery and see how much it's bleeding. If the cut isn't very deep or if it rapidly bleeding, then the worry is less, but if the cut is a deep wound the blood will no doubt come out in strong bursts." He said. "We're going to learn how to handle these very basic wounds. We'll start with simple first-aid to handle things like paper cuts and pricks from a knife."
"Who wants to volunteer?" Healer Knight pulled out a silver scalpel.
Harry shot his arm in the air.
"Eager!" The Healer laughed. "Alright, come up here." He said. Harry stood up and rushed over.
"Now, everyone, I'm going to cut a small line in the center of his palm." The Healer said. "This is a simple cut that can be troublesome for the injured, because it's easy to reopen. For the larger cuts, they're tightly bandaged or quickly healed with a spell. Our classes, however, will use as little as magic as possible because you never know when you won't have your wand with you, if you already have one."
The Healer ran the edge of the scalpel's blade in a straight line across Harry's palm. It prickled and blood began to bubble along the cut. "You okay?" The Healer asked. Harry nodded his head. "Alright. So, kids, what do you think is the first thing to do if you don't have any magic?"
"Judge the wound!" A girl shouted.
"Correct." The Healer nodded. "This is a minor wound. There isn't a lot of blood and it isn't very deep. It hasn't struck any major arteries. What's the next step?"
"Bandage it!" Someone proclaimed.
"No, we disinfect it." The Healer said. "You see, without magic, wounds can easily become infected. A minor wound can be deadly if not properly treated. The best thing to use is a Wound Cleansing Potion, but you can also use strong liquor. They remove bacteria and small, microscopic creatures that can enter the body and cause deadly harm."
Harry watched as the Healer picked up a squeeze dispense bottle . He squeezed the contents into a cotton ball, then rubbed the cotton ball across the cut on Harry's hand.
"In the most dire situations, you won't have anything great to clean a cut. The last resort is water to clean off the blood before you bandage it." The Healer said. "I'm using the Wound Care Potion, which cleans then heals minor to major wounds. It's a very basic potion that's easily made, but again, potions aren't always accessible."
It doesn't even sting. Harry looks at his wet palm, the blood and the cut are both gone.
"Now, we're going to practice applying bandages to each other." The Healer said. "Everyone, find a partner and come get a kit."
Flower
James ruffled his son's hair and waved to Healer Knight. "How was it?" He asked the Healer, who had walked towards him.
"I think Harry is the only child in there with any actual interest in what I teach." The Healer said, laughing. "It's so rare there's a kid who wants to learn here! Amazing to think it's the son of James Potter."
"I take offense to that." James mock-gasped. They share a laugh. James had gone to school with Knight, both of them were Gryffindors.
"We do offer more advanced classes. After he attends mine for a few weeks, I think he should go to them. They aren't free, but he'll benefit from them." Knight said. "If this interest stays the same as he gets older, he'll become a splendid Healer in the future."
"There's Healers who cut into people!" Harry chirped.
James laughed.
"The classes do contain students who're Hogwarts age." Knight added. "But I do hope you consider putting Harry in them."
"Definitely. Just tell me when you think he's ready for them." James said.
They say their goodbyes and James apparatus them out of the hospital, pleased he was right.
Flower
Sirius walked into Potter Cottage, shouting. "Where's my favorite godson!"
Harry pops his head over the cough. "Sirius, I'm your only godfather." He said. Then, "I went to a lesson with a Healer at St. Mungo's!"
"Jamie-boy told me." Sirius said, stuffing his hand into his robes' pocket. "I got you something, where is it…" He pulled out a small wooden box. "Found it at a shop in Knockturn. Don't tell your mum."
Harry climbed over the couch and landed roughly on the floor, before bouncing over to his godfather. "Lemme see! What is it?" He asked, taking the box. He struggled for a moment to open it, until he twisted it off.
"It's a bunch of old charts for the human body. They're enchanted to move around and zoom in on spots." Sirius said. He'd bought it at Borgin & Burkes for a steal- two galleons and a heavily implied Azkaban sentence for the cursed objects that lined the back room's shelves.
Harry pulled out a tiny scroll and unrolled it, amazed it the paper suddenly enlarged to reveal a map exactly like he had seen during the lesson at St. Mungo's. "Woah." He said.
"Right?" Sirius laughed. "I'm an amazing godfather."
"My favorite godfather." Harry said.
"Better be. I'm your only godfather." Sirius huffed, reaching forward and ruffling Harry's hair. He laughed when the boy pouted and tried to flatten it against his head.
Lily hated going into her son's bedroom.
She loved Harry, as much as any mother loved their child, but his interests frightened her and worried her. She could pretend he was a normal boy most of the time, as though she didn't take him to a muggle psychologist three times a week to develop 'alternate methods to physical violence and ways to cope with violent thoughts'. Her husband was able to handle Harry's oddities far better than she did, encouraging it. She stopped fighting him a long time ago after Harry came home from his first lesson at St. Mungo's, he was too happy for her to take it away from him- even if the thought of him learning about the human body itched her the wrong way.
Her son's bedroom felt like a horror chamber. The walls were sky blue and his carpet was pale hardwood, bright, happy tunes that should've encouraged something gentle. Instead he had jars of pickled organs on his shelves, charts of nerves and organs and bones pinned up, dissection kits haphazardly strewn over his dresser surface. The light was always off, he preferred candles and oil lamps. It felt ominous. Something out of a tacky horror movie. It was reasonable that Lily hated going inside.
Once, she shocked into the shelf and it came crashing down. The smell of dead flesh and something like vinegar filled her nostrils. She'd puked and couldn't come back inside to clean it, Remus did it for her. Harry was sad at the loss of his precious pickled parts, but he didn't react angrily. He apologized. It made Lily feel guilty that she could ever be horrified of her sweet little boy, that she was scared of things that made him happy.
Dr. Bates had told her Harry was a unique case.
"He has many symptoms of Anti-Social Personality Disorder, but he displays a level of regard for others that he considers close to himself. I don't believe he feels love and joy as you and I do, things he loves are more of an obsession and things that make him happy stem from his sadism. He shows little empathy for other living things, especially things he has no connection to. He has violent fantasies that are increasing with age, but he's developing a variety of methods to help him avoid acting them out." Dr. Bates had told her.
"Are you diagnosing him with anything?" She asked.
"He's too young for that." Dr. Bates said. "I don't believe he'll be growing out of these urges, but there's no way to diagnose anyone until they're an adult. He's still changing, developing. Every day contains experiences that can greatly alter his perception of the world and his own mind. It's a good thing he was brought to me when he was. He could've quickly escalated to humans out of pure boredom."
Dr. Bates didn't always reassure her.
Harry was growing into a splendid young boy.
Not many things caught his interest, but he had begun gardening with her. Lily loved it when he was with her out in the sun. Her boy had inherited her skin, though he didn't burn nearly as quick she did. Still, she made sure they both had sun-repelling charms on before they went out. They grew flowers, herbs, and vegetables. She dreamed of growing her own grapes. Harry seemed to find some sort of peace with her, knees in the grass and nails lined with dirt.
Harry wasn't a fan of reading like Lily had been, he struggled to sit in the same place and remain focused to get through a chapter of any book he had in his lap. Still, he was capable of reading. It took him about a week to get through a single book, reading bit by bit every day until he finished. He liked textbooks- on potions, biology, chemistry, maths, general sciences, and magical creatures. He didn't always understand them, he often had to ask what a word meant or look it up in a dictionary, but he was a determined young boy.
Sirius liked to buy Harry animals for them to dissect together. Sirius, of course, had once spent an hour in the bathroom vomiting after witnessing Harry cut into a pup that was dead when born. He came back stubborn, bit sick in the face, but desperate to get through it with his godson. Lily thought there was humor somewhere in the story, just couldn't laugh at it herself. James certainly did. Sirius tended to buy rats, rabbits, and toads the most. Occasionally, like with the pup, there were animals that were dead that he bought some a place unknown. Lily was willing to bet Knockturn. He'd bring the dead animals back to Potter Cottage, straight into Harry's eager hands.
He remained thin, and short for his age. Lily worried about his height. Harry ate plenty, but it never seemed to be enough to squeeze excess fat on his bones. And he was just so tiny. It was odd to think that the bespectacled, scrawny boy a few inches shorter than anyone his age was capable of smiling as he dug a sharp object into an animal.
"I wish I could dissect a live animal." Harry commented mournfully, once, as he carefully placed a toad heart on a platter next to him. He glanced at her. He didn't say it, but Lily heard it anyways. "But mum won't let me."
"Living creatures can feel pain, kiddo." Sirius discouraged. "Plus, they move around and, ew, right?"
Harry shrugged. He sliced off the toad's left foot and held it up. "Lucky frog's foot?" He offered.
Sirius blinked, then he laughed. "Merlin Harry, we have to work on your jokes!"
Flower
Harry got his letter. Harry's eleventh birthday arrived. Lily hadn't realized her son was so close to leaving to Hogwarts.
She was excited. Her son was going to get his first wand, make friends (hopefully), learn magic, begin his journey to become a wizard. He was going to be sorted into his House and, Merlin, Lily could already see him donning Ravenclaw colors.
She was scared. He would be without his sessions with Dr. Bates, without any dead animals to dissect, surrounded by familiars and unsuspecting students. A restricted section of a library that contained Dark magic, one she knew her son was smart enough to sneak into.
It made her nauseous.
Regardless, it was Harry's eleventh birthday.
A Healer at St. Mungo's gave Harry a thick book filled with different methods on how to remove, preserve, and implant organs- by hand and with magic.
James bought Harry a Nimbus 2000 and his own practice set of Quidditch balls. "You won't be able to play in your first year, but it's never too late to get started!" He proclaimed. Harry did enjoy the sport, or Lily thought he did. He never complained when he was coaxed into playing.
Remus had made Harry a quilt, which he topped with homemade chocolate. Lily swore she saw him wipe a tear when Harry blew out his birthday candles. Remus hugged Harry tight and made him promise to make friends at Hogwarts. "I'm not even there yet." Harry said.
Sirius seemed to have bought out all of Diagon Alley. He proudly displayed a total of forty different gifts (topping last year's record of thirty-three). Lily wondered how he hadn't yet put a massive dent into the Black family wealth he'd inherited.
Lily gave Harry an old jewelry box her mother had given her. "It's my great-grandmothers." She said.
"I'll take good care of it." Harry promised and kissed her cheek, smiling wide.
It was easy to forget, sometimes, that her son wasn't a completely normal, absolutely good, boy.
Sequel to Preemptive! Part 2 of the Dark Triad AU. The sequel to this story is Ember, which is soon to be posted. This story can also be found on my AO3, in what's probably a far more organized fashion.
Anyways...yeah. this. definitely sucks. horrible, quick-paced writing. hopefully ember will be better lmao