Chapter 4
"Now Harry, how are you feeling today?" Dr Thomson asked sitting down on the couch opposite Harry.
"Fine," he replied crossing his arms.
The doctor chuckled and said, "You know 'fine' isn't really a feeling?"
Harry ignored him and looked at the clipboard the doctor was holding. He supposed the doctor was going to make notes in it. Dr Thomson saw him looking at it and said, "Don't worry about this Harry just ignore it, I may make a few notes from time to time but that's just for my benefit."
Harry ignored him still and looked to the wall where there were some photographs of presumably the doctor's friends and family. The doctor turned around to see where Harry was looking and smiled.
"I can see you're admiring my photographs. Do you have any of your friends and family? We could put them up in your room if you like," he said.
"Yes, but they're in a photo album," he replied. There was no way that he was going to hang up his magical photos that moved on the wall. The muggles would be shocked, besides, he wasn't planning on staying here much longer.
"Well maybe next time would you like to bring it to show me perhaps?" he asked kindly.
"Err… no. They're private sorry," he said. He couldn't tell him that the reason he couldn't show him the pictures was because they moved.
"That's fine I understand. So tell me Harry, how do you like school? Your uncle said how you've been going to boarding school since you were 11 years old. What's it like?" Dr Thomson asked.
"Um, it's great. Better than mug- I mean normal school."
"Who are your friends?" he asked.
"My best friends are Ron and Hermione. Ron has a big family and all his brothers and sister go to the same school and we're good friends too." He said. "Hermione is very smart, and loves reading books. She's the brightest witch, I mean student at school." The doctor looked up from his clipboard when Harry said 'witch' and then made a note. Harry, slightly panicked continued on and said, "and well Ron has been my best friend since we met on the train to school. He's funny and hates homework."
"And how would you describe yourself?" Dr Thomson asked him.
"Umm, I don't really know," he mumbled.
"Well tell me what your favourite subjects are at school then."
How could Harry answer this? He supposed potions was like chemistry, history of magic could just be described as history, but what about Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts? How could he possibly translate these into muggle subjects? Maybe DADA was similar to phys ed or sport.
"Umm, I like playing sport," he said somewhat lamely.
"What kind of sport do you like?" Dr Thomson asked.
Harry thought, what was Quidditch similar to, soccer perhaps?
"I play soccer mainly, in the school competition," he said.
"Well that's great Harry, outside we have an area for patients to play in and I'm sure there must be a soccer ball in our equipment somewhere," he said.
Great, Harry thought. Now he would have to show off his non-existent soccer skills.
"Do you do well in your classes Harry? Do you like to get your homework done on time?" he asked.
"Kind of, my grades are all right," Harry said.
"Tell me, you must get up to some kind of mischief in a boarding school, do you play any pranks on anyone?"
"Yeah, just sneaking out at night time and stuff," he answered.
"Do you get into any fights? Is there anybody you don't like?" the doctor asked.
"There's Malfoy, we get into fights. He's a Slytherin. That's one of the Hogwarts houses. Full of… never mind," Harry said. He had been about to say death eaters but of course he couldn't possibly explain to the doctor that slytherin house was evil. He didn't even know why he was telling him about his life. He supposed he was going to be leaving soon and the doctor still had no idea about Hogwarts or what school he went to so it didn't really matter.
"What are the fights about?"
"Mainly because he insults me, my friends or my parents," Harry said frowning.
"Do you miss your parents Harry? Do you remember them at all?" the doctor asked gently.
"Yes of course I do, but I don't really remember them, I was only one when they were murdered," Harry trailed off thinking about Voldemort.
"Harry do you feel anger about the crash? You know many people die in car accidents every week, sometimes there is nothing we can do about it, but you can't blame anybody when it was an accident," the doctor said.
"But it wasn't an accident. They were murdered, by the same person that's been trying to kill me my whole life," Harry said.
"Harry do you ever feel anxiousness, or paranoia that someone is watching you or trying to kill you?" the doctor said looking concerned.
"Well there is someone trying to kill me, so yes," Harry said. He realised he was digging himself a hole as the doctor scribbled something down on his clipboard.
"How do you get along with your Aunt, Uncle and Cousin?" Dr Thomson asked.
"I don't" Harry replied simply.
"And why is that do you think?"
"Well because they've always treated me badly. They never liked my parents and therefore they never like me. I'm just a burden to them," Harry said.
"Well I'm sorry you feel that way Harry because I know they care about you very much, that's why they sent you here, to help you get better." Dr Thomson said.
Harry scoffed. "If you say so," he said.
"Do you feel jealousy of Dudley perhaps?" Dr Thomson asked.
"Dudley has been spoilt his whole life, but no I am not jealous of him, he's a fat pig," Harry laughed, thinking of his fat cousin with Aunt Petunia calling him 'Duddykins'.
"Are you afraid of being fat like your cousin Harry? Is that why you haven't been eating?" Dr Thomson asked.
"No!" Harry yelled defensively. "I will never be fat like him because I never got fed as much as he did and in case you haven't noticed, I have been eating."
"Harry your uncle told me of many times when they sat you down and tried to get you to eat something and you wouldn't," Dr Thomson said.
Harry remembered back to before he went to Hogwarts and the many nights he spent in his cupboard hungry because he had been denied food. "Well he's lying," He said quietly.
"Harry I'd like to ask you about the scar on your hand. You received it this year. How?" the doctor asked.
"I told you before, it was given to me by a teacher as punishment," Harry said.
"I'm sorry Harry but I don't believe you. Perhaps your subconscious made you write it to try and stop you from telling lies," The doctor said.
"What you honestly believe that I would purposely carve that onto my hand?" said Harry.
"Yes Harry, there's nothing to be ashamed of, just open up to me and tell me why you did it and we can make sure it won't happen again. Are you scared of it happening again?" the doctor said looking concerned.
"No because the teacher isn't at school anymore, she was uh… fired. That's the truth," Harry said.
Dr Thomson looked resigned and wrote something on his clipboard.
"Harry what about the scar on your forehead? Your Aunt found you cutting it in front of the bathroom mirror a couple of years ago. Why did you do it? Were you feeling sad? Angry? Upset? Did you want attention?" The doctor asked.
As if right on cue, his scar twinged painfully and automatically he reached up to touch it.
"Look you have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said angrily. "My parent's murderer tried to kill me as a baby and failed and I was left with this scar. No I don't want attention, although I have received plenty of it at school. My uncle has made this whole thing up!"
"Harry in the letter I received about your eating habits at school, they also mentioned you had suffered a loss. Sometimes when people lose someone important to them, they fall into a depression. Do you think it's possible that you might be feeling depressed Harry? Not eating, anger and sadness are common symptoms of depression." Dr Thomson said.
Surely the doctor couldn't be talking about Sirius. There was no way that Dumbledore would have written to him, but how did Vernon know that his godfather had died? Maybe Dumbledore had written to him and Vernon included it in his fake letter.
"Harry? Towards the end of the school year your godfather died? I believe you were quite close with him," the doctor prompted.
"Yes," Harry whispered.
"Was he a father figure for you Harry?" The doctor asked gently.
"Yes," Harry said whispered again.
"I'm very sorry for your loss Harry, important people have died in your life and it can be hard to deal with. Sometimes people resort to self-harm to deal with the pain they feel. How have you been coping with the grief?" Dr Thomson said.
Harry looked up as he could feel his eyes stinging as though about to let tears fall. "I don't know" he said hoarsely, and then cleared his throat. "Err, are we done yet?" he asked.
"Not quite," replied Dr Thomson making a note on his clipboard. "I wanted to ask you about some of the books that we found in your trunk. Very, unusual books…"
Harry just looked blankly at him. What was he supposed to say?
"Magical books? With spells and potions? Did you buy these fiction books to create your own fantasy world?" the doctor asked him.
Still Harry didn't answer. If he denied it, Dr Thomson would call him a liar, but if he told the truth, the doctor wouldn't believe him.
"Umm, maybe" he said, not sure what else he could say.
"So I guess you like to use your imagination. Do you have dreams or visions about it?"
"Sometimes," Harry said playing along.
"So are you a wizard Harry?" the doctor said smiling. Harry laughed internally. He could rearrange that sentence to be 'you're a wizard Harry' which is exactly what Hagrid told him on his 11th birthday. Harry didn't say anything and the doctor wrote one final note before standing up.
"I think that's all for today. I do believe you have a medical check-up now, I'll just page Sophie," the doctor said and typed a message on his pager to Sophie. One minute later, she knocked on the door and Harry left to go to his 'check-up'.