You've Got a Girl at Home
Chapter 2 – Can't Turn Back Now, I'm Haunted
When Harry woke up the following morning he felt perfectly fine but that wasn't unusual. He couldn't remember the last time he had suffered with a hangover, Ginny joked that he was lucky but Hermione muttered under her breath that it was just because his body was used to the amount of poison he poured into it.
He didn't have to open his eyes to know that he was alone in his bedroom. He didn't remember Ginny getting up and leaving but she always woke up for work early and Harry always slept in after his nights out with Draco. He got to his feet, threw on his dressing gown and made his way down to the kitchen where he poured some cereal into a bowl. He reached for the bottle of firewhiskey that he kept on the table permanently but then something made him pause with his hand halfway to the bottle.
Last night Harry had tried to sweet talk Susan but it hadn't worked. Susan had been vehemently against going home with him and that was the first time that had ever happened to Harry. He was the chosen one, he had won them the war and defeated Voldemort. Most girls were into that and he could even sweet talk the muggle ones who knew nothing about his past. Until Susan, no one had ever turned Harry down. So why had she? That was the thought milling around Harry's head, what had put her off?
He knew, although he tried to avoid the fact that he knew, what the answer was. The fact Harry was with Ginny and the way he treated Ginny had put her off. Harry hadn't even been aware Susan and Ginny knew each other, let alone that they were friends. They had been in separate years at Hogwarts and in separate houses. The only thing that had ever linked them was the DA so Harry supposed that was how they had come to know each other.
While lost in thought Harry had picked up the bottle of firewhiskey and was holding it absentmindedly over his cereal bowl. He knew why Susan hadn't wanted to go home with him, she had moral integrity and dignity; two things he had lost a while ago. She didn't want to go home with a cheat, she didn't want to be that woman.
Kreacher appeared in the kitchen and interrupted Harry's thoughts. He jumped out of his skin and dropped the firewhiskey in shock, it shattered and spilled all over the table.
"Bugger," Harry mumbled as Kreacher cleaned up the mess.
"Apologies Master," Kreacher said as he bowed lowly.
Harry just shook his head, "Can I ask you a question Kreacher?"
"Of course Master," Kreacher replied.
Harry looked down at his cereal thoughtfully and asked, "If you were a girl and I tried to get you to come home with me, why would you say no?"
"But Master Harry, Kreacher is not female, Kreacher is not human. Why would Master ask this question?" Kreacher replied, the poor elf looked very confused.
"Yeah I know you're not female or human, but if you were, why?" Harry asked.
"Maybe she does not like the firewhiskey Master Harry," Kreacher said, he looked at a glass fronted cupboard that was filled with bottles, "It is not a healthy habit."
"I know," Harry sighed as Kreacher stealthily left the kitchen. A thought struck him as he looked at the firewhiskey filled cupboard, he knew what everyone called him behind his back. They all thought he was an alcoholic, but he could stop drinking whenever he wanted.
"I'll show them," Harry said defiantly, "I won't have a single sip of firewhiskey today."
He was under the impression that it would be incredibly easy to get from dawn to dusk without a drink. His day did start off fairly ordinarily, he ate his cereal (dry because he was so used to having it with firewhiskey that he didn't keep any milk in). Then he did a little bit of work on the house, he was slowly cleaning up and refurbishing the place. When he had finished after a tough mornings work he really wanted a drink but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind and made himself a black coffee instead. After lunch he sat down and tried to read the prophet, he wasn't sure how but a bottle of firewhiskey had found its way from the cupboard to the table and Harry reached for it on autopilot as he mumbled, "Who writes this shit?"
He took the lid off of the bottle and continued, "Oh yeah, Draco writes this shit. Explains why it's such a load of rubbish these days."
Harry shook his head and looked down at the bottle in his hand. He remembered his promise to himself and grudgingly put the lid back on the bottle. After that near slip it got more difficult to resist and when Kreacher came into the kitchen to serve dinner, Harry realised that he had no choice but to ask for the elf's help.
"Ah Kreacher, finally!" Harry said with a heavy sigh, "I want you to make sure that I don't drink any alcohol for the rest of the day."
Kreacher frowned, "But Master Harry likes his firewhiskey, why would he stop drinking it?"
"Because I'm proving a point Kreacher," Harry said shortly, "Just do whatever you need to make sure I don't drink today, okay?"
"Yes Master Harry," Kreacher said with a low bow. Then he put some sort of spell on the firewhiskey bottle and cupboard before he left the kitchen. For the remainder of the night Harry got slapped by Kreacher every single time he touched the bottle or the cupboard containing the bottles. When it got to half past 11 he watched the clock slowly tick towards midnight, sweat dripped down his face and he felt like he had the flu. Finally the hands met at midnight and Kreacher appeared.
"Does Kreacher still need to stop Master Harry drinking?" The elf asked.
Harry shook his head and reached out for the firewhiskey bottle. He opened it and drained half of the bottle in a few minutes.
The floo whirred and Harry didn't have to wonder who it was, he knew at this time of night it would be Ginny. She walked out of the fireplace and smiled at him, "Hey," she said as she kissed him on the cheek and sat down next to him at the table.
"What are you drinking to?" Ginny asked with a false smile. Her way of coping with his drinking had always been to treat it like it was normal.
"I didn't have a sip to drink all day, so I'm celebrating," Harry said proudly. He was sure that he saw Ginny grimace upon his words but she just said that she was tired then she headed up to bed.
Something tugged at Harry in the back of his mind again, something told him that Ginny thought he was a pathetic mess, just like Susan did. He pushed the niggling thought away and picked up the firewhiskey bottle once more. By the time he joined Ginny in bed an hour or so later, he had finished the whole bottle.
The sun shone in through a gap in the curtains and woke Harry the next morning. He glanced at the girl in bed with him, she looked so peaceful when she was asleep, so frail and small, and for the first time a pang of guilt surged through him as he thought of everything he had done to her. He had some sort of epiphany, he realised that he had a problem. He had rewarded himself last night with a drink for not drinking, he knew that wasn't normal behaviour.
Ginny stirred and opened a sleepy eye, "Hey," she said with a smile.
Harry smiled back halfheartedly, "Hey," he said weakly.
"You okay?" Ginny asked as she propped herself up on her elbow.
Harry shook his head, he couldn't meet her eye so he stared resolutely at the bedsheets, "I have a problem Ginny…my drinking isn't…I have a problem."
Harry braved a look at her, his eyes swam with guilt but he supposed Ginny would attribute that to his drinking. Her eyes lit up, it seemed as if she had been waiting for him to admit it for a long time, he couldn't say that he blamed her. Ginny nodded, "Yeah," she said softly, "You do."
"I can't keep doing this to myself," Harry said as he looked into her hope filled eyes, "I can't keep doing this to you…I need help."
"I know someone perfect," Ginny said immediately. She got out of bed quickly and begin to get dressed at top speed, "They specialise in post-traumatic stress and I think you drink because you have PTSD so I'll arrange an appointment for you, okay?"
Harry nodded, he stared at Ginny for a moment and felt a longing that he hadn't felt for a long time. Susan had been right, he really didn't deserve her and he knew if he did get better, he would have to tell her the truth. It was for his own selfish sake as much as hers, when his moral compass was working properly again he knew he couldn't be with Ginny and keep the truth from her, the guilt would eat him alive.
He sounded as broken as he felt when he asked her quietly, "Would you come with me, to the appointment?"
"Of course I will," Ginny said with a smile. She looked like the Ginny he remembered, she was full of life and hope again. It only made Harry feel even more guilty as he realised that he had been the cause of her misery lately, "I'm just going to go use the floo."
Before Harry could say another word, Ginny hurried down the stairs. He sighed heavily and threw himself back against the pillows. The guilt of months of cheating was only just beginning to weigh down on him, it was hitting him all at once like several hard slaps to the face. He knew Ginny would never forgive him, after all what woman in their right mind would? He had lost track of the amount of girls he had slept with, it sickened him to realise that if she asked him for a number he would be unable to give her one. He groaned loudly as he tried to block it all out, all the pain, all the guilt, all the feelings he had been trying to push down and avoid since the war.
To make matters worse, Susan was still on Harry's mind too. It wasn't because of what he had tried with her the night before though, it was because of the memories that it had brought back. Draco always joked that Harry didn't have a type, he said that he just liked anything female that moved but Draco was wrong. Harry did have a type, he had done since about 3rd year, his type was red hair and blue eyes. Ginny almost met that criteria, regardless of anything else about Ginny, that was one thing Harry was sure of, he thought that she was beautiful.
Harry remembered his 4th year well, and not because of the amount of times he nearly died that year. He remembered it because it was what Hermione liked to call his first awkward year, before then he hadn't really been aware of girls or feelings. The only girls he knew were Hermione, who was his best friend and therefore not really a girl as Ron had said, and Ginny, who back then had always just been Ron's little sister as far as he was concerned.
4th year changed everything though, when Harry went back to Hogwarts after the summer suddenly he began to notice girls and because of that, he began to feel awkward around them. His first crush had been Cho which everyone had known about back then and which everyone still liked to tease him about now but there had been someone else who he had wished that he had been able to ask to the Yule Ball. That person was of course, Susan Bones. Looking back Harry reckoned that his attraction to redheads had all started with Susan, the pretty, outgoing Hufflepuff who he had shared a workstation with in Herbology that year. He had always been aware of her because they had shared classes since 1st year but it wasn't until that year that Harry really noticed her.
Harry had more success with Susan than he had with Cho. He had been able to string two words together when he spoke to her for a start which was a definite improvement. She was funny, she was sassy and she made that year just a little bit brighter for Harry. It had been hell on earth, he had felt paranoid and terrified all year but he had loved Monday mornings because he got to stand and have a meaningless conversation with a pretty girl who didn't once ask him if he had put his name in the goblet of fire or try and make him talk about his role in the Triwizard tournament. Susan Bones had been his escape from the annus horribilis that had been 4th year.
They had remained friends in 5th year because Susan had faithfully joined up when the DA was launched. Harry couldn't help but notice how good she was at defensive magic; her shield charms were above average and her range of spells was impressive. He had asked her if she wanted to specialise in defence and she had said that she didn't want to follow her family's traditions. They had stayed late that night in the room of requirement as Susan talked about the fact that her whole family had been in law enforcement and that it had effectively cost her both of her parents and her aunt. Harry had been able to understand that better than most people and he felt his affection towards this unassuming Hufflepuff grow.
In 6th year Harry shut a lot of people out. Those friends who weren't his best friends suffered because he was in so much pain after losing Sirius he didn't want to let anyone else get close to him. He could feel that the war was coming and he knew that if he grew close to anyone, he would be putting that person in the firing line. Susan had dated some older Ravenclaw that year, but beyond feeling slightly jealous Harry hadn't had much to do with her. 6th year had been when everything kicked off with Ginny, looking back Harry wondered if the reason he had liked the things that he liked about her was because those were traits she shared with Susan.
He sighed as his mind wandered unwillingly towards the war. He tried to think of it as little as often because when he let those memories in he let them all in. Images of dead bodies, mutilated bodies, blood, gore and unseeing eyes all flooded him so quickly and painfully that he felt it like a pang in his chest. He had seen Susan in the final battle and as he walked to his death in the forbidden forest, he had allowed himself to think, I hope she's one of the lucky ones who makes it through this.
A shout from downstairs pulled Harry from his depressing train of thought. He got up, threw on his clothes from the night before and made his way into the kitchen where Ginny slid a plate of bacon, eggs and sausages across to him along with a mug of steaming hot coffee, "I set up that appointment for you."
"Did you?" Harry asked as he looked down at his breakfast. He usually loved a big breakfast after a night out partying but today it didn't look particularly appealing to him, "When is it?"
"2pm today," Ginny replied, "I floo-ed Gwen and said I couldn't make practice. I told her I had a hospital appointment with you but I didn't say what it was for."
"You didn't have to do that," Harry said as even more guilt flooded his body, "I didn't realise you had a practice session today."
"Don't worry about it," Ginny said as she shook her head. She placed her hand on top of his and he felt physically sick with the guilt of everything, "It's just an extra session before the big game this weekend but it's not really aimed at me. Rook has been letting in way too many goals and Mia needs extra practice after that disastrous attempt at catching the snitch last month…Gwen said she isn't really worried about my performance anyway."
Harry gave a small nod, "That's good," he said as he began to pick at his breakfast. To say that he wasn't looking forward to this appointment was an understatement. He hated hospitals with a passion, they reminded him of Arthur with a snake bite that had nearly killed him or Gilderoy Lockhart who had lost his mind. He sighed and resigned himself to the fact that if he was going to get better, he was going to need therapy and that meant he had better get used to hospitals.
Harry was glad that it was a cold wintry day as he and Ginny made their way to St. Mungo's. He was bundled up in a heavy cloak with a fur hood that did a great job of keeping his identity hidden. The last thing that he needed was for the press to snap a picture of him going into the hospital and invent some bullshit story.
He kept his hood up and held Ginny's hand as they entered the hospital. She gripped his hand tightly and led the way for him, once again Harry felt a surge of guilt as he realised how lucky he was to have such an understanding girlfriend. It felt like it took forever to get through the maze that was St. Mungo's but eventually they reached a small, empty waiting room.
Harry pulled his hood down as he and Ginny took a seat. He sighed and looked down at his and Ginny's intertwined hands, his hands were sweating and shaking but Ginny still refused to let go. The mantra that had been running through his head all day began again, I don't deserve her, I don't deserve her, I don't deserve her.
He took a shaky breath. It was 2pm and he hadn't had a drink yet, Merlin he really wanted one.
"Are you okay?" Ginny asked as she glanced anxiously at Harry.
Harry nodded because he couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't shake his head and say no, I need a drink so badly I feel like it's killing me. He let out a shaky sigh, he wasn't okay, he was nervous, he hated hospitals and he really wanted a fucking drink.
"Mr. Potter please," A familiar voice called.
Harry stood up and looked in the direction of the voice. One of the two doors leading from this waiting room was ajar. Ginny stood up and smiled at him, "It's going to be okay, I'll come in with you."
She led the way into the room which wasn't as bad as Harry was expecting. It didn't look like it was in a hospital, it looked like a cosy little living room. It didn't even have a chaise longue which Harry had expected considering he was basically seeing a psychiatrist. Instead there were four comfortable looking armchairs and someone he knew well was sitting in one of them.
"Susan!"
Susan smiled as a professional ought to but the smile didn't reach her eyes, "Did Ginny not tell you that it was me you were meeting with?" She asked, she was acting very professional and nobody would have been able to tell that they had met in very different circumstances the night before.
Harry shook his head and looked over at Ginny. For a heart stopping moment he wondered if she knew and she had done this to test him but his fears were quenched when she smiled and said, "Sorry, I didn't know that you knew each other that well."
"Well we don't know each other that well. We were in the same year at school," Harry explained as calmly as he could, "And I taught her how to do a shield charm in the DA."
"Saved my life that charm," Susan said with a smile, it seemed genuine this time but she hadn't met Harry's eye yet.
Ginny smiled proudly, "He saved a lot of people's lives because of the DA."
Pain flashed through Harry's eyes as he shrugged and said, "Don't give me too much credit, it was all Hermione's idea."
Susan watched him curiously as she said, "Still as humble as ever I see. Please, sit down."
Harry and Ginny both took seats in the comfortable armchairs. He was still shocked by the fact Susan was acting so calmly after what he had tried to do the previous night. It was a testament to how professional she was.
"So, what is the problem?" Susan asked, the question was directed at Harry.
"Well, I don't have a problem," Harry lied, "I just find myself drawn to alcohol."
"So you're an alcoholic?" Susan asked simply.
"No," Harry said sharply, "I'm not an alcoholic."
"Right," Susan said as she stood up from her chair, "That's simple then, this meeting is over."
"What?" Ginny asked in shock, "You said you would help him."
Susan took her eyes away from Harry and looked at his distraught girlfriend, "Unfortunately Ginny, I can only help Harry if he is willing to admit that he has a problem. It really is as simple as that."
Ginny turned to Harry with wide eyes, "Harry, please. You know this isn't right, you know that you need help. It's the only way you will ever be able to get better. Just admit that you have a problem."
Harry swallowed hard as Ginny's words and her doe eyed gaze made another wave of guilt rush over him, this time it nearly drowned him. He nodded and looked at Susan, for the first time since he had entered the room she met his eyes.
"Fine," Harry said quietly, "I have a bit of problem with alcohol."
Susan motioned for him to continue and Harry grudgingly said, "I'm a bit dependent on alcohol."
"So you're an alcoholic?" Susan asked again, in the same tone that she had before.
"Yes, I'm a bloody alcoholic!" Harry snapped bitterly.
"Harry!" Ginny chastised, "There's no need to shout at her, she's trying to help you!"
"I'm sorry Susan," Harry said apologetically, "It's just complicated…it's difficult…"
"What makes it difficult?" Susan asked, she leant back in her chair and surveyed him.
"What's not difficult about my life?" Harry asked, he sounded as bitter as he had before but he wasn't shouting anymore.
"Okay, I understand that there are lots of issues at play here Harry. The thing is, just like every fear, every addiction has a trigger. To help you I need to work out what triggered your alcohol addiction which means we need to start at the beginning. When did your life begin to be difficult?"
"How about when my parents died?" Harry asked irritably.
"You were young when your parents died so I assume you don't remember the trauma of the event. How did your parent's deaths trigger difficulties for you?" Susan asked, she was maintaining her calmness throughout the conversation.
"My Godfather who would have brought me up properly and loved me got carted off to Azkaban so I was sent to live with Muggles who hated me," Harry said angrily, "My Aunt resented my Mother so she took that out on me and my Uncle hated magic and tried to beat it out of me. They treated me like a house elf! My cousin had two bedrooms but I had to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, they made me fry up their breakfasts and whenever they took my cousin out on big fancy days out they left me with some crazy old cat lady."
Harry wasn't sure where all of this was coming from. The moment he had started to talk about his shitty childhood it had all just come spilling out. Susan was still surveying him closely as she said, "Then your Hogwarts letter came and things changed for you, is that so?"
Harry took a shaky breath and nodded, "I loved Hogwarts…Voldemort tried to kill me every year but that didn't change the fact that it was the first place where I felt like I belonged. Even through all of the crap, it was okay because I had Ron and Hermione and Gin and Dumbledore but then…"
"Dumbledore died," Ginny said quietly.
"Do you think that might have been what triggered this downward spiral?" Susan asked, "Be honest with me."
"Maybe that was the start of it but there were other things…" Harry said as he trailed off, "But I don't know why any of this is relevant. I know why I drink, I can't go out of the house without being cornered by a reporter or asked for an autograph. All I want is a bit of peace and quiet which is why I stay in the house all day with nothing to do and a cupboard full of alcohol."
"You don't just drink because you're bored Harry," Ginny said softly "If she's going to help you, she needs the real reason. You need to talk about the war."
Harry sighed and looked down. The room was silent for a moment, all that could be heard was their breathing, "If I'm going to talk about the war Gin I can't talk about it while you're here…there's so much that you don't want to hear…"
Ginny nodded, she understood that Harry might bring up Fred and that wound was still so raw. She got to her feet and kissed him on the cheek, "I'll be outside if you need me."
The moment the door clicked shut Susan said, "The office is encased in silencing charms, she can't hear you."
"Thank fuck for that," Harry said miserably.
"When did you start swearing so much by the way?" Susan asked curiously.
"I thought we were here to talk about my drinking, not my language," Harry drawled, to Susan he sounded like Draco.
"Okay, then why do you sound so much like Malfoy?" Susan asked.
Harry shrugged, "He's a fellow drinker, we spend a lot of time together."
"Picking up girls and cheating on your other halves," Susan said bitterly.
"I thought we were talking about the war not my…vices," Harry said as he stared resolutely down at his hands.
"We are. What are your worst memories from the war?" Susan asked.
Harry replied quickly, "All of it."
"You're going to have to be more specific than that Harry," Susan said, she felt sorry for him but she also had to be harsh to get through to him.
Harry looked up and caught her eye again, "You want to know what the worst memories are? Let's start with watching Cedric die for no bloody reason other than that he was in the way! Do you know what it's like to watch the life drain out of someone you know right in front of your eyes when you know the whole thing is your fault? Then there was 5th year when someone who was supposed to teach me tortured me and turned half of the school against me! Tell me how it's right that a teenager gets slaughtered by the press the way that I was that year?" He couldn't stop now that he had started and he felt so angry, "Then my Godfather was killed because of me. Voldemort lured me in and I fell for it and I lost one of the only people who ever really loved me."
Susan didn't say anything as Harry continued with his tirade. She didn't write anything down either, she just watched him and listened carefully, "Then I watched people I loved fighting for their lives in the Battle of the Lightning Struck Tower and I saw my mentor die. I saw you nearly die when Greyback went for you and I couldn't stop to help you because I had to get to Snape and nobody knew how that felt! Leaving people behind who were fighting for me!"
Harry was short on breath, he didn't dare look up at Susan as his mind continued to drift through the haze of pain that was the war, "I watched my owl, my only companion throughout my years of torture with my Aunt and Uncle die, I mean they killed my fucking owl! What the hell did she do to them, she was a fucking owl! Oh and then there was the fact that my best friend who was practically my brother just fucked off and left me with a broken-hearted girl to deal with in the middle of a war! All because he couldn't hack it and he wanted to be back home with his bloody mother! He abandoned me, just like everybody did, like they all eventually will!" Harry remarked as he looked up at Susan. There was still a fire burning in his eyes but he also looked close to tears.
"I didn't realise how bad a person I was," Harry said bitterly, "And then I saw Ron's biggest fear and it was me stealing the person he loved. He thought that low of me, that I'd do that to him! Then I had to watch my best friend get tortured, I heard her screaming, screaming in agony and there was nothing I could do because I was locked in a bloody basement!"
Harry got to his feet and paced angrily in front of the desk, "She needed me and I couldn't help her and I still can't forget her screams!" He paused to catch his breath but didn't stop pacing, "Then someone else I loved died which seems to be a recurring theme by the way. He was a house elf who was innocent and naïve and he took a knife to the chest for me. He died for me and I will have to live with that for the rest of my life! I buried him and he died for me! No one should die for me! But they all did! My parents, my Godfather, Dumbledore, Lupin, Fred! They all died BECAUSE OF ME!"
Susan didn't interrupt him, she let him continue because she knew that he needed to let it all out.
"I watched so many people die in the final battle, I saw Lavender die, I saw Colin lying there cold as ice, so young and innocent and Fred…who was practically family, they all died for me and I wish they hadn't. I wish I had died in their place, what's one life for so many innocent others?"
"They died so that you could live," Susan agreed, "That's true and I understand why you carry that guilt with you but Harry, if you had not lived then no one would have killed Voldemort. Yes, innocent people died and they were people that you loved but think how many others you saved by defeating Voldemort."
Harry shook his head, "You sound just like Hermione. Who cares what some stupid prophecy says? Why does that mean that people have to die for me?"
"I don't know what you mean by prophecy," Susan admitted, "Is that an illusionary term?"
"No, there was an actual prophecy written about me," Harry said bitterly, "Which is supposed to be top secret unspeakable stuff by the way."
"Are you going to tell me anyway?" Susan asked with a slight smile.
It almost made Harry smile, despite the foul mood that he was in. "Yeah…it went along the lines of the one whose parents have thrice fought the dark lord, has the power to vanquish him but either must die at the hand of the other because neither can live whilst the other survives."
"Which meant?"
"I had to kill Voldemort or he had to kill me. Neither of us could live while the other one survived."
"That makes no sense, you're alive now and Voldemort is dead," Susan pointed out.
"It's more complicated than that," Harry muttered.
"How so?"
"I can't tell you."
"Harry, you have to tell me everything. If I'm going to help you I need to know everything, I need to become your closest confidant."
"How do I even know if I can trust you though?" Harry asked skeptically, "How do I know you won't just run to the prophet the minute I'm out of this office?"
Susan actually looked hurt for a moment, "Even if I wanted to do that, I couldn't. If I tell anyone about what we speak of in this room, even one of my closest friends, I will be fired for gross misconduct. There is a strict patient-confidentiality clause in my contract, but even if there wasn't, I would never run to the press. Maybe it's a little stereotypical but it is true that Hufflepuff's are loyal and you are my friend, despite the way you're acting right now."
Harry sighed and glanced down at his hands. His knuckles were white because of how hard he was gripping the arms of the chair that he was sitting in, "I know, I'm sorry. I just don't like talking about this because of how it makes me feel and…because of how it makes other people view me."
Susan frowned, "Go on."
"The reason the prophecy was worded the way that it was…it was because a part of Voldemort lived inside me," Harry spat this out very quickly, "He had these things called horcruxes. Do you know what they are?"
Susan simply shook her head.
"Well it's when you split your soul and put part of it away for safe keeping so that if you die, you can come back through some dark magic ritual. The only way to kill Voldemort was to destroy all of his horcruxes."
"All?" Susan asked sharply, "How many times did he split his soul? I imagine doing it once would darken what you had left enough."
"You're right," Harry said honestly, "And Voldemort split his so many times that his soul became unstable. The night he tried to kill me, it wasn't a miracle. The only reason I survived was because he had killed so many people to split his soul that when he used the curse that night his soul split again and latched onto the only living thing in the room."
"You."
Harry nodded glumly, "So I spent my teenage years wondering why I had this sick connection to Voldemort-"
"What connection?"
"I could see into his head," Harry said quietly, "At first it was only when he was angry, my scar would burn and it was like I was in the room with him and I could feel his rage like I was feeling it myself. I learned to control it during the war, I could tap into his head and make sure I was always one step ahead of him."
"I imagine that came in useful," Susan said diplomatically. She was purposefully staying clear of the soul issue until Harry had finished talking about it.
"Anyway, I thought I was going to turn dark, I thought I was just like Voldemort. To be honest, I was kind of scared of myself especially in 5th year…" Harry trailed off and shook his head, "Then when I found out I had been living with a part of Voldemort inside me for 17 years…well I felt sick. It helped me understand the prophecy though, I had to die for the part of Voldemort inside me to die. If I killed Voldemort and that part of his soul lived, he would just come back."
"So neither of you could live while the other survived," Susan said with a slow nod, "You both had to die."
"Yep."
"But you didn't die," Susan pointed out, "You're alive."
"See the flaw in the plan then, do you?" Harry asked bitterly, "I was all set up to die. I had written a will and hidden t in my old school dorm. I had said my goodbyes, I was looking forward to seeing my family again. I was looking forward to all of the suffering finally ending and I felt pretty content with the prospect of dying as I walked into the forbidden forest."
"That sounds very close to suicidal," Susan said.
"Maybe it was," Harry shrugged, "I wasn't taking my own life but I knew by walking into that forest Voldemort would certainly kill me. He did kill me, again. I woke up in this train station and Dumbledore was there, I think it was purgatory. Either way, because I had walked into my own death and had accepted it, Voldemort had killed the part of himself inside of me but I had the option of going back. Dumbledore told me that I could board a train and I nearly decided to leave it all behind and join my family."
"What made you come back?" Susan asked.
"Guilt, mostly," Harry replied, "And love for Ron and Hermione too, but mostly guilt. I felt like I had to come back and fix the world."
"Did you feel responsible for the war and the suffering that it caused?" Susan asked curiously.
"Entirely," Harry sighed.
"You can't carry the suffering of every person who went through the war on your shoulders, Harry," Susan said gently, "What you saw and what you did have scarred you and I realise that, but if you truly want to get better you are going to have to learn to let go of the past."
Harry shook his head, "How do I let go of the things I saw? I saw my closest friends nearly die, I hurt people, I killed people in the final battle Susan! I saw horrible things and when I look at the people who suffered those things all I can feel is this knot in my stomach getting tighter."
"Give me an example," Susan said calmly.
"You," Harry replied as he looked her directly in the eye.
This threw Susan off-guard, "Me?" she asked in surprise.
"You," Harry reiterated, "I saw you getting tortured and I was completely helpless because I was under an invisibility cloak. I couldn't give my position away so I couldn't do anything apart from watch those bastards use the cruciatus curse on you. When I look at you now I can still see you writhing in pain."
"What if I say that I forgive you for not doing anything?" Susan asked, "What if I say that I understand why you couldn't do anything?"
"Do you mean does that make me feel better? Because the answer is no, it makes me feel worse," Harry said irritably, "I don't deserve your forgiveness."
"Is that why you drink?" Susan asked calmly, "Because you need to forget the war? Because you don't want to think about the people you feel that you have let down? Because you don't want to feel the guilt or the knot in your stomach?"
Harry shook his head in disgust, "I drink because when I do I forget about everything I've just told you about it. I don't feel anything, I feel numb and I feel like I can escape from it all. I don't think about Hermione being tortured and I don't think about Molly's face when I told her that I couldn't save Fred and I don't feel sick when I look at the people that I love!"
Susan looked at him silently for a moment, "So when you say all of it, you really do mean all of it."
"Well yeah, that's why I said it," Harry said bitterly as he threw himself back down onto his chair.
Susan nodded and said, "Well I think we have gotten to the root of the problem. You aren't going to be able to stop your addiction until you deal with the war."
"The war was months ago, I have dealt with it," Harry lied.
"No, you haven't," Susan said firmly, "Think of your experiences of the war like memories in a pensieve. You have put that pensieve into a box and you have locked that box away at the back of your mind. Every now and then the lock begins to rust and some memories leak out but you just get drunk to get rid of those memories."
Harry frowned but said nothing because he knew that it was a good analogy.
"So to get over your alcohol addiction you need to put the war behind you. We need to unlock those memories and I'm going to help you learn to live with your guilt about the war. The way we're going to do this is by following a seven step programme."
Harry snorted, "It's not like the twelve steps, is it? Because I'm not ready to 'find god' Susan."
Susan raised an eyebrow, "Did I ask you to find God? My programme is nothing like that and this isn't alcoholics anonymous Harry. It is a practical and achievable programme, in fact, you have already done the first two steps."
Harry frowned at her, "Have I?"
Susan nodded, "Step one, acknowledging the purpose of your addiction. In other words, why do you do it? What drives you to alcohol? I think we both realised through this discussion that the answer to that is the war."
Harry nodded glumly, "What about step two?"
"Step two, realise that you are in denial. At an intellectual level, you know that your addiction is unhealthy but you keep doing it anyway. If you are in denial about it then you are conning yourself about it so you will never be able to stop it. You have admitted today that you are an alcoholic," Susan said, "Admitting you have a problem and getting to the root of that problem are the first steps to stopping an addiction."
"So you think there's hope for me?" Harry asked.
Susan observed him, "I think I can help you with your alcohol addiction but getting your life together…that's a whole other job."
"By which you mean fixing things with Gin," Harry said, he was able to read between the lines now, he had been oblivious to that kind of thing when he was younger.
"Do you want my personal or professional answer to that question?"
"Personal," Harry replied.
"Personally, I don't think you will be able to fix things with Ginny. I think as you learn to stay sober for longer you will be unable to live with the guilt. You are going to have to tell her at some point and she is no fool, she won't stand for that."
"Yeah," Harry said quietly, "I think you're right and…I think that's what needs to happen."
"This is a conversation for another day," Susan said as she glanced at the clock on the wall.
Harry followed her line of sight and frowned, "Is it really three o'clock already?"
"Time flies when you're spilling your guts," Susan joked, "Now, in the week between this meeting and our next, I want you to start working on step three of our programme."
"Right," Harry said cautiously, "And step three is?"
"Find alternative coping mechanisms," Susan replied, "You understand that you drink to cope with your pain so you need to find a new way to cope. Some people like exercise, a lot of people take up jogging."
Harry made a face, "Jogging, really?"
"It's a common coping mechanism," Susan said defensively, "What I am saying is that you need to find a way to get your aggression and frustration out that doesn't involve getting drunk and cheating on your girlfriend. Can you think of something that might help?"
Harry pondered on that for a moment, "Duelling."
"Duelling is good," Susan said with a nod, "Why don't you try joining a duelling club or try an arrange a duelling night with Ron? That's your first task for the week."
"Alright, what are the other tasks?"
"I want you to try and spend two days of the next week sober. My advice for managing to achieve that would be to get rid of all of the alcohol in your home and try and abstain from going out to any establishment where alcohol is served. We'll reconvene at the same time next week and see how you get on," Susan said as she got to her feet.
Harry nodded and got to his feet, "Thanks Susan," he said sincerely. He reached across to shake her hand and realised suddenly that, although they had known each other for years, this was the first time that they had touched (when Harry was sober at least).
Susan frowned as the shocked look passed across Harry's face, "Are you okay?"
"No," Harry replied honestly, "But for the first time I have hope that I might be one day."
Susan gave him a small smile and dropped his hand, "You will be."
Harry nodded again and made his way towards the door. He was dreading the conversation he was going to have to have with Ginny at some point and he wished that he hadn't let her come with him today.
When Harry's hand was on the handle, Susan said, "Oh there's one more thing, Harry."
Harry turned around to look at the redhead. She gave him a rueful smile and said, "Professional tip, it might be easier to stop drinking if you stay away from Malfoy."
"I'll try," Harry said with a faraway look, "But he needs help as much as I do."
Susan said nothing to that as Harry left her office. When the door shut behind him, she sat back down behind her desk and sighed. Part of her felt happy because she had realised through their meeting that she had seen a little part of the boy she had gone to school with breaking out from within the bitter man he was today. A bigger part of her felt sad because she knew that man had a long road to recovery in front of him and that none of it was going to be easy.
TBC
