Chapter One
Intrusive thoughts were involuntary and unwelcome ideas and pictures that wedged its way into your mind. Often, they are a result of OCD or depression. It could come from Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD), or a number of anxiety disorders from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder to eating disorders. Dr. Bates hadn't diagnosed Harry with any of the aforementioned disorders, though for a while he had speculated Obsessive Compulsion. The muggle man believed it was uncontrolled intrusive thoughts that caused Harry to be…abnormal.
Harry didn't believe that. The thoughts that would occur felt as though they were entirely his, though sometimes they came out of nowhere. He could be helping his mother cut vegetables in the kitchen and he's wonder how it'd feel to dunk the knife into his stomach, or reach over and chop off his mum's pinkie. He didn't think them as unwelcome, though. The thoughts were often very pleasant and made him smile. Was his truly his fault he liked gore?
Dr. Bates told Harry he was likely suffering from a yet-unknown mental disorder, or one he hadn't been able to name yet. He often spouted off disorders, random symptoms and names. It was all very informative. However, Harry didn't believe much of what the man said. He didn't like him (not in the slightest bit), but his mum wanted him to see the man and his dad, though he disliked it, wouldn't make him stop going. Luckily for him, St. Mungo's always provided cadavers and charmed dummies and thick textbooks on hand/non-magical medical procedures.
"You often fantasize about violent things." Dr. Bates said. "I don't believe you do so willingly, though these thoughts have taken strong control of yourself. The best thing to do is help you find ways to cope with them and find ways around this thoughts and urges." He taught Harry breathing and relaxation exercises, advised him to begin a journal then a sketchbook, helped him find non-bloody hobbies to occupy himself with. The man's heart was in a kind, good place, but Harry found he didn't really appreciate it. He felt like he didn't need to cope. He did, however, feel a benefit from being able to control his urges.
Harry wished he was a normal boy. His mum wouldn't hesitate to hug him and she'd dote on him the way he's seen his muggle aunt do to her son. His dad wouldn't have to struggle and maybe he wouldn't look so worried whenever Harry was around many people. He knew they loved him so very much, and he loved them too, but he sometimes worried there'd be a day they wouldn't be able to stand loving him. He was scared his own love for them, for his godfather and Remus, would fade one day and he'd become one of the psychopaths he'd read about, who cared for no one but themselves. He knew his mum was scared he was already one.
"You're going to boarding school in the Fall." Dr. Bates said. "Do you think you'll do okay?"
"I don't know." Harry truthfully responded. "Large groups of people make be a bit scared, sometimes. When they're really loud and compact, makes me feel like there's no air to breathe."
The muggle man nodded. "Social anxiety is surprisingly common, especially in sheltered children." He said.
"Do you think I'm sheltered?" Harry asked.
"Your mother has gone to extreme lengths to limit your contact with the world. You've been homeschooled until now by family friends and hired tutors. You attend lessons at a private hospital for basic medical knowledge, but you don't interact much with the other children there as they're older than yourself. Your mother never lets you out of the house very often, a result of her own mother's dose of paranoia." Dr. Bates explained. "Most of your knowledge of the world comes secondhand."
"So then I'm socially anxious?" Harry asked.
"Huge groups of people impose a stressful environment you can't handle, yet. I believe, with time and proper counseling, you'll be become a butterfly." The man smiled. "Your school should offer counselors for you to talk to. If not, feel free to write me a letter any time. No charge." He chuckled.
Harry tilted his head to the side. "Dr. Bates, do you think I'll ever be normal?" He asked.
"I know you will, one day." He said.
Harry hoped the muggle man was right.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had no counselors because mental disorders weren't common in the magical world, if they existed at all. There were no mental asylums because the traumatized were simply hospitalized, with no actual mental treatment. Harry knew many of the disorders that witches and wizards ended up with could be treated the way muggles did, they could live normal lives beyond the halls of St. Mungo's, but the magical world saw the disorders as physical ails. They're treated as such, or not at all.
He wondered where he'd be if his mum wasn't a muggleborn.
While he was being fitted for robes at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Harry met a boy named Draco Malfoy. The boy went on and on about Quidditch teams, Houses, blood status, the Sorting Ceremony (which no one knew anything about unless you had stepped through Hogwarts as a student yourself, a long-standing tradition that kept the knowledge secret), and complaints about rules against first years bringing their own broom. He was a ball of excitement and just-barely-filtered emotion that Harry found himself drawn to.
"We should meet up at Hogwarts." Draco stated. "If you're a Slytherin, that is."
Harry agreed. "I'd like that." He said. The blond boy grinned wide, obviously pleased.
His mum hadn't allowed him to purchase a familiar that day. "Best not to leave any room for temptation." She said. Harry knew, by that statement, she thought he'd kill his familiar. He wanted to tell her he didn't have the urge to kill animals anymore, especially not one he'd call his own, but he decided not to fight her. He could wait. By the frown on his father's face, he guessed he'd have a familiar by the next summer.
September First arrived quickly.
Harry said goodbye beforehand to Healer Knight at St. Mungo's, the wizard told him that summer lessons would begin in the first week of July. "My star pupil is going to be gone, what will I do?" The man sighed playfully. Harry knew the wizard had taken a strong liking to him and hoped for him to become his apprentice when he graduated from Hogwarts. Harry liked the idea very much.
Sirius had to leave for something he didn't specify, Harry assumed it had something to do with the organization his family was involved in, though they had stopped talking about it around him when they realized he was old enough to listen and remember. His godfather had promised an apology gift for not being there when he boarded the Hogwarts Express. He was always giving Harry gifts and Harry knew he'd never be able to complain about them.
His dad, mum, and Remus came with him to Platform 9 ¾. Harry walked through the barrier, with a run though also with extreme caution. His instincts screamed at him until he passed through without harm, his heart beating and mind racing. He had to remind himself, magic, even though he knew then he'd never comfortably pass through the barrier. Harry couldn't stop thinking about the barrier suddenly losing its magic when he was halfway through, becoming entombed in brick, essentially buried alive. Maybe he'd die instantly, body transformed into stone, or he'd suffocate with no oxygen to breathe and slowly decompose where no one would ever see. Harry couldn't guess which he'd prefer.
Standing before the Hogwarts Express, Harry wondered what it was going to be like away from the sheltered life he's had so far.
"Don't talk too much about dissection and anything bloody or about death." His dad told him, bending down to fix Harry's robes. "Well, okay, no, be yourself. But people can be a bit scared of stuff like that, so be careful, alright? I don't want anyone bullying you because they think you're different and they want to be cunts."
"James." His mum scolded. "What have I told you about his language?"
His dad rolled his eyes, but kept his attention mostly away from Lily. "Harry, just use discretion. Be yourself, but-"
"Don't be too much of myself." Harry finished.
"No." His dad sighed. "Be careful. People don't react well to some things. Especially muggleborns."
"I know." Harry said. His dad smiled and kissed his forehead.
"I love you." His dad said. "Have fun there."
Harry ran the tips of his fingers across his forehead and nodded. "I love you, too." He said.
Remus swooped in and tightly hugged him. "Don't be anything like your father." He spoke with false sternness. He pulled away, slightly. "I don't think Professor McGonagall can handle it."
"Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked. He remembered her name on his acceptance letter, the Deputy Headmistress.
"You'll meet her. She teaches Transfiguration, and your father probably still haunts her worst dreams." Remus said. He ran his fingers through Harry's hair, trying to make it appear neater. "And be nice to Hagrid. He's the groundskeeper, he'll make a good friend."
"Okay." Harry said, blandly.
Remus smiled and hugged him again. "Love you, kiddo. Write as often as you can." He said.
"Love you, too." Harry smiled.
He looked towards his mum, who gave a tense grin and a strange, loose hug.
As Harry went to board the train, his mum called out. "Be good." Her tone felt like that of a caring, concerned mother. But he knew better. She worried he was going to do something normal boys don't do.
He turned his head and nodded. "I promise." He said. If he did any of the thoughts he thought about, he'd get into trouble and could end up in Azkaban. He knew that and he definitely didn't want it.
Entering the train, Harry went inside of the first empty compartment he found. He pulled down the window and peaked out at his family.
"Goodbye!" He shouted.
Remus and James eagerly waved goodbye. His mum smiled, less tense now, and waved back. "I love you!" She yelled, sudden.
"I love you, too!" Harry's chest bubbled. He wondered if his mum was beginning to forget her mother's affection for him. He gripped the sides of the window. "Bye!" He repeated.
The train began to move. He was just one of hundreds of kids with their arms out, waving goodbye. Harry watched and waved until he couldn't see his family anymore, falling back inside of the compartment. He closed the window.
When the door slid open a minute later, a girl stared inside. Harry stared back.
"Um," She nervously shifted, foot to foot. Her bushy hair swung around with the movement.
An image of her speared over a metal spike, gagging and still alive, appeared in his mind.
"Hello." Harry welcomed her.
"Sorry." She squeaked. "I'm just looking for an empty compartment."
Harry tried to extend an arm of friendship. "You can sit here." He said.
"That's okay!" She quickly closed the compartment door and, likely, quickly walked down the train corridor.
He frowned and clasped his hands together. He wondered what he'd done wrong.
A short time later, the compartment door slid open again. This time, a red-haired boy stood there, pale-faced and obviously anxious. He had a smudge on his nose that looked like ash.
"Can I sit here?" The boy asked.
Harry nodded.
The boy looked immensely grateful and walked inside, the door sliding shut behind him though it felt like a book was being opened. Briefly, Harry wondered if Draco would luckily discover his compartment.
"Name's Ron Weasley." The boy introduced himself.
"Harry Potter." Harry said.
The first chapter! Agh, I'm so excited! I hadn't planned on this becoming my first major story, but I can't help it! It was originally going to be one huge chunk posted as a one-shot to finish off an AU I started. But, I decided to make it a multi-chapter story that's going to be the first story I write not just for my self-indulgent self.
ALSO. This is my Dark Triad 'verse. The first part is published here on FFN, Preemptive, as well as the second part, Flower. If, for some reason, you didn't read either of this before clicking to read this story, it probably led to some confusion!
For anyone who might be confused beyond what's already been mentioned;
Voldemort is very much alive and active during this. The war is ongoing between him and his Death Eaters v. the Ministry of Magic/the Order. The Order and the Ministry DO NOT work together and are completely two different sides. In canon 1981, Voldemort seemed to be losing the war against the Ministry of Magic. After coming back over a decade later, he was far stronger and probably more strategic. I presume that in this AU with him losing, he went into brief hibernation to build up his forces and a proper strategy. I see the war calm during Harry's childhood and not extremely important, but beginning to return with a ferocity- hinted at with Sirius' off on an unknown Order-related mission.