It took Molly longer than she expected to get a healer to her home. She had gone into St. Mungos and had told them that she had a child that had been sick with a fever for almost a week. She had been told to wait in the waiting room until her number was called out.
It had been about seven o' clock when Harry had woken up, and by the time Molly had left the Burrow it was quarter to eight. It was now almost noon and Molly was at her wits end.
She understood there were a lot of critical injuries; lots of people who had been attacked or robbed were there, the world was in chaos as they were in the middle of a war. So, a child with a fever truly wasn't their main priority.
Finally Molly got sick of waiting and got up and went over to the desk.
"Hi, I've been waiting for nearly four hours to talk to a healer about coming to see a sick child that's in my care. This child has been sick for days and he almost fainted earlier, I understand you're busy, but children need to be treated too!"
The lady at the desk barely looked up at Molly as she sighed and said, "I'm sorry Madame, but people are getting attacked by death eaters or other frightened citizens left and right. We will send a healer as soon as we can-"
"The child in my care is Harry Potter," Molly interrupted impatiently, hoping to catch her attention and speed things along.
That did indeed catch her attention.
The woman looked up shocked and asked, "the Harry Potter?"
"Of course, the Harry Potter!" Molly answered exasperated, "how many Harry Potter's are there?"
The woman got up quickly and walked around the desk, "Amelia, please come watch the desk for a few minutes."
Another woman who had been talking to another annoyed person about waiting times looked up, obviously surprised and confused that the woman would leave her alone at the desk to take care of the multiple injuries.
"This is an important case," she said to Amelia before she could ask any questions.
"This way," she motioned to Molly to follow her down one of the hallways.
They walked up to the highest floor, which was the fifth and eventually made it to an office where the woman knocked and entered the room, leaving Molly in the hallway.
When she came back out of the office she said, "my name's Olivia by the way," before leading Molly into the room.
"This is the director of St. Mungo's, Jack Smith," Olivia told her as she followed her.
"What's this about Olivia? I have a lot of paperwork to do so this better be as important as you acted like it was."
"Yes Sir, it is. This woman here's name is..." Olivia turned to Molly, "what's your name again?"
"My name is Mrs. Molly Weasley," she walked towards the man at the desk and held out her hand.
He stood up and accepted it, "yes, I remember you. Your husband was attacked by a snake last Christmas if I remember correctly."
"Yes, he was-"
"How's he doing?" Jack asked politely with a smile as he sat back down in his chair.
"He's back to normal thanks to your wonderful healers here, but that's not why I'm here-"
"Then why are you here? I'm assuming Olivia wouldn't send you up to my office during times like these just to thank me and my healers."
"No, that's not why I'm here either. I'm here because I have a child in my care who has fallen quite ill-"
"I'm sorry, Molly was it?" Jack interrupted and got up and walked around his desk, "I understand wait times are long, but requesting to talk to me to move things along isn't-"
"The child in my care is Harry Potter!" Molly said again.
"Oh..." there was a long moment of silence in which Jack looked at Olivia questioningly.
"Then Olivia is right, this is quite important..." Olivia was sending Jack a look that said 'I told you so.'
"He has been ill since Sunday with a fever, and he has been exceptionally weak, aching everywhere and also very depressed according to his relatives. This morning when he woke up he seemed to be feeling a little better, but then he nearly fainted. He has been-"
"I see," Jack interrupted Molly and walked over to Olivia, "Olivia, go find Isla Jones and send her with Molly to see the boy."
Olivia nodded as she knew who Isla was and exactly why Jack wanted her specifically to go see Harry.
Olivia asked Molly to go back to the waiting room and that her and Isla would be there to meet her in a few minutes. Molly did as she was told while Olivia went to find the unknown healer.
At the Burrow, Harry was still asleep and Hermione had moved onto the bed to sit beside him, against the headboard and some extra pillows that Ron had gone to get them. Ron was sitting at the bottom of the bed, but he was now propped up against the wall. Ginny had gone downstairs as she had felt like her presence in the room was just awkward. She felt like Harry only needed Hermione, and Ron right now.
One thirty was when Molly arrived home with the healer, Isla Jones.
The healer had long, curly blonde hair with dark green eyes. She was slender and of average height. She looked like she was about late thirties, early forties.
When she came into the room with Molly Hermione and Ron thought she looked a lot like Rita Skeeter.
"Can you explain more about what happened?" Isla asked.
"Well, I told you that he has been ill since Sunday; he has had a fever and seems to be in physical pain, but also has been very depressed and hasn't wanted to eat a lot according to his relatives. He ate some soup last night when he arrived, but didn't finish his breakfast," Molly answered.
"Has he had a history of depression?"
Molly began to answer, but Hermione cut in, "yes, he has been depressed before, especially last year."
"When's the earliest sign of depression that you noticed? Ms. Granger, is it?" Isla recognized Hermione from the articles Rita Skeeter had written a couple years previous.
"Maybe second year, when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin-"
"So, he felt very alone during that time? After all, what child wouldn't feel alone when ostracized from his peers? Would you say he got depressed last year from being ostracized from the rest of the world?"
"Um, yes I suppose so. He always feels alone and like he can't trust anyone, even us. He has always had to cope with his trauma alone, and last year was exceptionally hard after Voldemort returned and the ministry did his best to isolate him. As if Voldemort wasn't-"
Ron made a noise and tapped Hermione's foot, letting her know she may be saying too much. Ron had a bad feeling about this woman; she seemed to be asking normal questions, important questions that had to be asked in order to help Harry, but this woman's eyes flashed like Rita Skeeter's when she was trying to get information out of Harry for another rubbish article.
"As if Voldemort wasn't what Ms. Granger?" Isla pushed.
"What does that have to do with helping Harry right now?" Ron asked, his tone cold.
"I need to know the background-"
"Harry needs to be helped with his current fever and then you can worry about the rest."
Isla nodded at the sixteen year old boy, who she felt was scrutinizing her.
"Ronald, Ms. Jones is trying to help Harry-" Molly started hissing at her son, but Isla stepped in.
"It's quite alright, he's just being a good friend," Isla smiled politely before asking the two teenagers to move off the bed so she could see Harry better.
Isla checked for any injuries using a magic detector that didn't require touching him. Harry was still asleep, but she decided she'd have to wake him up to do, and hear anything else.
"Mr. Potter," she said gently, pushing his arm to wake him up.
Harry groaned and blinked a few times before grabbing his glasses and focusing on the lady in front of him. He sat up frightened and reached for his wand before noticing Molly and his friends were in the room with him.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, "who's this lady?"
"I told you I would be going to get a healer Harry, this is her," Molly explained, "her name's Isla Jones."
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking over at the clock and realizing it was almost two o' clock.
"I don't need a healer, I'm fine," Harry told her.
"Mr. Potter, may I see that for myself? I just want to take your temperature and check some other things. It'll be a lot like the muggle doctor exams you're probably used to."
"Actually I've never been to a muggle doctor, but I suppose this will make my friends feel better so, go ahead," he replied to Isla in a monotone voice.
Isla noticed that the boy seemed very depressed; he had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in months, his skin was pale and his hair didn't look like it had been brushed in a long time, he was also very thin as if he had been starved or had been starving himself.
"Your relatives never took you to a doctor?" She asked as she began her examination, first checking his heart and lungs.
"No, they don't really care much about my health," Harry answered, "but that's okay because I have people who care now."
Harry smiled, despite originally being annoyed that Hermione had told Molly about his fever he couldn't deny that he felt good that they cared about him so much. Molly and Hermione's obvious concern and Ron's protectiveness had him feeling safe and loved, if only for the moment.
Isla noticed how Ron watched her every move and how Hermione was basically hovering over her shoulder as if expecting her to hurt him.
"I suppose it's good that you have people who love you so much," Isla said in a strange voice, "your heart sounds like it has a lot of pressure on it. It's beats are irregular, probably from the obvious stress and you being so thin. Your blood pressure is also higher than it should be for your size, and age."
Harry was surprised with this, but than realized that he didn't really care. He didn't believe he deserved to be healthy because he had never been taken care of physically or psychologically so, he had come to believe that it didn't matter. This was all too common with victims of trauma, especially when survivors guilt was involved.
Isla noticed that Harry didn't seem very concerned about himself, "you seem very tired, do you have nightmares?"
Harry nodded, "are they every night, all night?"
He nodded again and she turned to Molly, "I believe I may know what's wrong, but you'll need to bring him to St. Mungos."
Harry groaned and Isla excused herself, deciding to wait in the hallway while Molly and his friends talked to the irritated teenager.
Once she was standing in the hallway she put her ear right against the door to eavesdrop.
"I don't want to go to St. Mungos' Mrs. Weasley!" Harry was saying.
"Harry, we just want you to feel better and this lady will help you," Molly tried soothing him.
"I'm fine! I don't need everyone knowing how weak I am!"
"No one can accuse you of being weak mate!" Ron said, raising his voice slightly only because he was annoyed that his friend thought that about himself.
"Ron, don't yell at him," Molly told her son before turning back to Harry, "he's right though Harry dear, no one thinks you're weak. You're one of the strongest people and anyone who thinks you aren't are crazy. Why do you think you're weak?"
There was a beat of silence and then, "it doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters Harry! It matters to us and it should matter to you! You matter to us, we all love you and we want to help you! You need to trust us to help you, and I know that's hard Harry, but your parents would want you to be happy. You can't live li-"
"Well, I haven't got any parents, do I Mrs. Weasley? I'm sorry, but my Mom and Dad are dead! I have no one anymore now that Sir- Padfoot," Harry stopped himself from saying his name because he knew Isla was in the hallway, "is dead too! He was the closest thing to a parent I've-"
"Harry listen!" It was Hermione who spoke this time, "you aren't alone! You have me, and Ron and the rest of the Weasley's! You have Neville, Luna, Remus, Mad Eye and Professor Dumbledore! I know Padfoot and your parents are dead, but that doesn't mean that you're alone!"
"If I agree to go to St. Mungos will this end?" Harry finally said.
"No! We will never stop trying to convince you that you aren't alone. No matter what happens, we will support you because that's what you do when you care about someone. You stay by their side through thick and thin, like you have always done for us."
Harry didn't reply to Hermione, but Molly could tell that his resolve about not going to St. Mungos was at least temporarily broken and she knew that they had to get him there before it came back.
"I'll tell Ms. Jones that you'll be ready in a couple minutes, okay Harry?"
Harry nodded and Molly left the room.
Isla took a step back when she heard this and looked like she had been standing on the other side of the hallway.
"Is Mr. Potter coming?" She asked politely.
"Yes, he'll be ready in just a couple minutes. Do you want a cup of tea while we wait?"
Isla accepted Molly's offer and went downstairs, wishing she could eavesdrop more on the teenagers.
Harry had gotten out of bed and had gone over to his trunk to pull out his Dopp kit. He pulled out a hairbrush and started brushing his messy hair as much as he could, hoping that Hermione and Ron wouldn't speak.
"Harry, we just want you to be okay," Hermione said, causing him to groan, "we care about you so much and we've been so worried. Not just this Summer, but last year too. We want you to be happy and healthy, and I know Sirius would've wanted that too."
"I don't want to talk about him right now Hermione," Harry replied shortly.
Hermione went silent, but that was when Ron spoke up, "you can't ignore the fact that he's gone Harry-"
"I'm not!" Harry snapped, "how can I ignore the fact that he's dead when I see his death in my mind every night?! Or blame myself for it every bloody second of the day?! I can't forget his death, and I can't forget him! I can't forget the memories we made in the short time that we had-!"
Harry broke down then, tears came down and he sat on his trunk wiping them away before they had time to fall. Hermione went over and sat on the trunk beside him, wrapping her arms around him as he cried.
Neither her or Ron said anything, even when Harry stopped crying and got up, throwing his hairbrush onto the bed and wiping his eyes and then wiping his glasses on his shirt.
"Let's go get this over with," Harry said once he had put his glasses back on and grabbed a light sweater.
Hermione walked over to him and gently grabbed his hand, while Ron walked in front of them as if to guard Harry.
"We're ready to go," Ron said to Isla and his Mother when they got downstairs.
"Okay," Isla replied, looking at Harry and taking notice of the hand holding and redness of his face, "are you all coming with him?"
"Yeah, we are all coming with him," Ron answered firmly.
"Alright, let's go then," Isla turned on her heel and walked towards the fireplace that Molly had brought them there with.
"Ginny dear, come with us. You can wait in the waiting room if you want."
Ginny had been sitting on the couch and had also noticed Hermione and Harry holding hands, and the fact that Harry's face was red.
"Do I have to come?" She asked.
She was concerned for Harry, but she wasn't wanting to bother him with her presence.
'What's wrong with me? Why are my old thoughts coming back?' She thought to herself.
'It's because you know Hermione's the one he wants, not you. What a true friend? Telling you to relax around him so he notices you and then she moves in. I bet she only told you to start dating other people so she could have him,' a cruel voice said.
She shook her head and focused back on what her Mother was saying, "Ginny dear, you're fourteen years old and there's a war going on. Of course you can't be by yourself. Come along."
Ginny reluctantly got up and followed behind the group.
'She treats you like a child, that's all Harry thinks you are. Just his best friends pathetic, little sister.'
Ginny tried to push away the cruel voice that had returned in her mind.
This voice had returned a few weeks ago, after Voldemort attempted and failed to possess Harry. Ginny was sure it was just her old insecurities and that there was nothing to worry about, but Harry.
Ginny cared about Harry a lot and couldn't imagine living without him. So, right now she focused on him; how ill he looked and how depressed he was and how he felt about Sirius, because everyone downstairs had heard him yelling his feelings, including Isla.
Ginny tried her best to ignore how angry she felt that Hermione was holding Harry's hand, as if she could ever comfort him because she didn't understand how he was feeling no matter how much she tried. Hermione could never understand Harry like she did, could never love him like she could if he only gave her the chance.
She was brought out of her thoughts by Hermione, who had let Isla, Molly, Ron and Harry go first.
"Hey Ginny, are you alright?" Hermione asked, sincerely concerned.
"Yeah, of course. I'm just worried about Harry," Ginny answered with a smile.
"So am I, but he'll be okay. We'll take care of our Harry, right?" She smiled and put her arm around Ginny's shoulder in a best friend type of way.
"Of course we will, take care of our Harry," Ginny trailed off before grabbing some floo powder and jumping into the fireplace.
"St. Mungos!" She said, disappearing off to the hospital like everyone else.
Hermione followed after Ginny, but she couldn't help noticing the knot in her stomach that had formed as she heard the strange tone in Ginny's voice. Hermione shook it off however, because everyone was worried about Harry.
'She's just worried about him, that's probably all it is,' she thought to herself before joining the others at St. Mungos.
They arrived at St. Mungo's a little after two o'clock. Everybody looked as Harry walked into the waiting room once again holding Hermione's hand, with Ron walking in front of them as if he was Harry's personal body guard. Harry kept his eyes on the ground because he felt ashamed of being there.
'Everyone's going to know I'm pathetic and weak,' he thought to himself.
Hermione, as if she could read his mind squeezed his hand. He smiled a small smile and squeezed back, looking her in the eyes and exchanging a look of love with her that they didn't even notice. Ron however, did notice and he smirked.
Finally Isla was opening a door that led to a private room.
"We'll come back and start running blood test immediately Mr. Potter," Isla said before leaving the room.
"Blood test?" Harry groaned, he had heard about muggle blood test and he hoped that wizard test weren't as painful.
Unfortunately they were. After his blood was taken a healer brought him a tray of food. She fumbled as she put it in front of him and looked completely starstruck as she apologized and looked at the teenager with awe. Molly cleared her throat and got the woman to hurry out of the room because she could tell that she was making Harry uncomfortable.
Harry ate his late lunch while Hermione sat in a chair beside the hospital bed. Molly was sitting on his other side while Ron sat with Ginny in the waiting room. Hermione had to remember to mention to Harry and Ron the strange feeling she had had earlier.
'Maybe it's not even worth mentioning, it's most likely nothing,' Hermione thought to herself about Ginny's odd behaviour.
'Harry would probably be a better judge of that though.'
After another hour Isla finally returned with his results.
"Mr. Potter, we traced the magic in your blood and realize-"
"Magic in my blood?" Harry asked, he knew he was a wizard obviously but he hadn't known that you could tell that by physical blood.
"Yes, you can tell if someone is a wizard, muggle or squib by their blood," Isla explained, "anyway, we found that your magic levels are quite... interesting."
"Interesting how?"
"You're a very powerful wizard Mr. Potter, everybody already knows that, but your magic is lower than its normal levels. Despite never checking your levels before we can tell because of the way the magic in your blood is reacting."
Harry was giving her a confused look, "in other words, your magic is weaker than usual because of your depression."
This caused Harry to become even more confused, "my feelings are effecting my magic?"
"When a witch or wizard falls into a depression or develops PTSD their magic can become weakened. Your case of course, isn't that bad yet. You still have your magic, but because of your physically illness and your psychologically struggles with PTSD your magic is starting to make you ill. That's why you have a fever, it's your magic trying to cope with your physical and psychological problems. There have been cases where a witch or wizards magic will be completely sapped-"
"Sapped?!" Harry was getting anxious and upset at the idea, "like destroyed?! Like I wouldn't be a wizard anymore, I'd be a muggle?"
"The chances of it becoming that bad is very low Mr. Potter so, please calm down," Isla tried to sooth him, "the process of a witch or wizard losing their magic due to depression or PTSD or in your case and like most cases, both happens very gradually and you don't typically see the magical effects for months, or even years."
"But you said his magic has weakened already," Molly said questioningly.
"His magic's out of sorts because of his physical state, and it could also be out of sorts because of the tremendous amount of trauma he has suffered. He has been showing signs of depression for four years according to Ms. Granger, that's long enough for it to start."
Harry was sitting in the bed absolutely terrified; his breathing sped up, his heart started racing so hard that his chest hurt, he started shaking and feeling dizzy again. He had lost so much control over his life, never truly had any control in the first place and now he was going to lose control over his magic?
'This can't be happening, this can't be real,' he thought to himself.
"Mr. Potter please, take some deep, slow breaths," Isla sat on the bed beside him and he tried moving away, but she put her hands gently on his shoulders, "it's okay Mr. Potter. I know this seems scary, but as I said it'd take months to years for you to lose your magi-"
"I've been traumatized for years!" Harry replied loudly, "I've been depressed and hurting for years and nobody has cared enough to notice! I don't know what to do, I can't lose my magic! My magic's the first good thing I had in my life and it led me to everything else that I have!"
"You won't lose it Mr. Potter, I'm here to help you. The fact that you're feeling ill is a wonderful sign!"
"How?! I thought you said that was a sign that my magic was lower because of my depression?!"
"Your magic's fighting to survive, your magic's trying to take care of you by making you know that you're not well. Not only physically, but emotionally. Usually when a witch or wizard starts falling so deep into a depression that their magic's effected they'll develop physically symptoms," Isla explained, "it's a warning to the witch or wizard that they need help. You're physically ill too with being underweight and being sleep deprived. Your body lets you know this by causing dizzy spells and making you feel weak."
Isla got up off the bed as Harry's panic attack seemed to have passed as he listened to her.
"Your body and mind know how to take care of you. Sometimes that means shutting down, or pushing people away until you're ready to let them in, but at the end of the day you need people to help you with your trauma and depression."
Harry understood where she was going with this, "most of the witches and wizards who lose their magic never had anyone, or could never let them in. You have people Mr. Potter, try to not make the mistake of not letting them into your world so they can help you."
Isla walked out of the room with Molly to advise her about what treatment would be best for Harry.
Harry sat in the bed trying to keep himself calm and sort through his thoughts.
After several moments of silence Hermione finally broke it;
"Harry, I know it must be hard after everything you've been through to let people in to help you with your feelings, but it's necessary-"
"To save my magic, I heard!" Harry snapped, "I know everyone would hate me and think I was useless without my magic! Bloody Hell, everyone already thinks that now-!"
"No Harry! I'm not saying it's necessary to save your magic because I think I speak for all of us when I say we'd love you anyway! It's necessary because you deserve to be happy and healthy! We want you to be happy because we love you! I love you Harry!"
Harry sat there without responding for a few moments, but then he asked, "have you ever heard of a wizard losing their magic due to depression or trauma?"
"Yes Harry, but not very often. Usually it's with people who don't have any family like Ms. Jones said, or people whose magic was suppressed by their abusers. People who never got to flourish with their life, never mind their magical abilities. The last case of someone losing their magic because of depression was seventy years ago."
"What about the Longbottoms? They lost their magic, didn't they?"
"No, I don't believe so," Hermione answered, "I think they lost their minds and their ability to function in society, but I don't think they lost their magic. Their magic may have been suppressed by medication though, to make sure they're safe for the staff."
"Harry my dear," Molly had entered the room, "I've contacted Professor Dumbledore and he's on his way. I can't make any decisions about your treatment because you aren't my charge. However, Professor Dumbledore has always taken care of your care so, I'm sure he'll know what's best for you."
This made Harry angry; Albus being in charge of his life had only led him to being abused and neglected by his relatives and losing the only person who loved him like a son. Albus had no idea what Harry needed and never had he ever asked Harry what he believed would be in his best interest.
What was that phrase he had heard? "In the best interest of the child?"
'Dumbledore has never acted in my best interest. How can an adult know what's in a child's best interest without even asking them?' Harry wondered bitterly.
Harry felt like this was Albus' biggest mistake with him, never asking him how he felt, what he wanted or what he thought he needed. He knew that not all children truly knew what they needed in certain cases, but it was still important to make sure the child's happy and healthy and give them some control. After all, it's their life, and it was supposes to be his.
Albus agreed with Harry, and didn't intend to make that same mistake again.
So, when Albus arrived at St. Mungo's at about five o' clock he was completely intending to speak to Harry alone about what he wanted to do next now that he knew what was causing him to feel so ill.
He went to Harry's private suite and asked Molly and Hermione to allow him to have some privacy with Harry.
This surprised Harry, "why do you want to speak with me alone Professor?"
"Well Harry, I want you to explain to me what Ms. Jones said."
"Didn't Mrs. Weasley explain everything?" Harry asked.
"Yes, but I'd like to hear it from you," Albus answered, sending Harry a smile.
"Ms. Jones said that my magic was weakening because of my physically and psychological state."
"And do you understand what that means?"
"Yes, it means I'm not physically well and that I'm depressed and it's effecting my magic," Harry sounded annoyed that Albus would ask him this, he felt like his headmaster must think he's stupid.
Albus knew this, "excuse me Harry, I wasn't trying to make you feel unintelligent. I just thought that you should say it aloud yourself. For that same reason, I'm going to ask you to tell me why you're depressed."
"Why should I tell you?! I already have to think about it all the time! Besides, you don't care-"
"On the contrary Harry, I care very much about you. More so than I probably should about a student, alas though you made it into my heart like you did with so many others. Molly, Ms. Granger and Ms. And Mr. Weasley are waiting outside to show their support."
"Mrs. Weasley has to be here because you left me in her care, and Ginny didn't even want to come! Mrs. Weasley made her."
"I'm sure that there's more to it than that, Ms. Weasley loves you too. That's why she went with you to save Sirius."
"She went because she loved him too, she told me so."
"Again, I believe there's more to it than that she loved both of you. Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley cared deeply for Sirius too, but they went for you. Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Longbottom didn't know Sirius, but they still went. They did so because they loved you."
"I don't want to talk about this," Harry said.
"You must because that's the only way for you to be happy," Albus watched Harry for a few moments before continuing, "Harry, I know it's easier to tell yourself that the pain will go away if you ignore it, but believe me trying to ignore it or stop the trauma from surfacing will only make it worse for you. I know this personally, and so do you."
"You don't know what I know," Harry replied defiantly.
"I know that you feel like you'll bleed to death with the pain of it all," Albus repeated the words he had used in the office last month.
This didn't make Harry angry the way it had then, "I have to be strong, that's what everybody expects from me and the last thing I want to do is let anybody down! Sirius expected me to be strong, and the entire world has been calling me The Chosen One! Everyone's expecting me to be the hero and save the world!"
"Harry first of all, Sirius and everyone who loves you already know that you're strong. You're a hero Harry, whether the ministry and the rest of the world's saying so or not. Feeling depressed, afraid and alone are all normal reactions to have after everything."
"I need to be brave Professor! That's what everyone needs, it's what I need! I can't afford to cry and break down, I need to be The Chosen One because I don't have a choice!"
"You are brave Harry, you're the bravest person I've ever known. Being brave isn't about not being afraid, but rather being afraid and not letting that fear stop you from doing what's right. Or fighting for something, or someone that's important to you."
Albus was looking at Harry with complete sincerity, "do you think your Mom wasn't scared when she stood in front of your crib and died for you? She would've been terrified beyond belief, but she did what she had to to protect the one she loved most. You've always done that for your loved ones too Harry."
Harry had remained silent so Albus continued, "you've always protected us every way you can, but you don't need to protect us by putting up a brave front. Be honest about your feelings so we can help you the way you've always done for us. You've always hidden your feelings away to protect us, but we won't let you do that anymore. You can cry and scream freely, without having hide it because if you don't you'll explode."
"Crying and screaming hurts everyone, my pain hurts everyone and I don't want them to see that!"
"But they will because it always comes out Harry. It comes out as anger and hostility, it comes out as violence. You can't deny your emotions because you feel everything so deeply. Being brave, truly brave would be letting everyone know how you feel. Telling them you're hurting, but you're going to keep living your life anyway. You hurting isn't what hurts them, it's the fact that you've been hurt and that you're in pain. They want you to be happy, as you deserve to be."
Harry refused to cry in front of his headmaster so, he looked away and took deep breaths trying to calm down.
"Harry, I'm proud of you," Albus told him, "because you feel everything. We know you're strong because you feel everything despite being through so much. You've survived despite the odds, and you've never given up or been tempted by the darkness. That's what makes you The Chosen One."
Albus left once he realized that Harry had no response to what he said. However, he made sure to let Harry know that he was just in the waiting room when he was ready to talk to him.
Harry laid in his bed thinking about what Albus said. Despite not saying anything, and not really feeling any better Albus' words had broken through Harry's traumatized mind a little. His words had let Harry know that the voices in his head were wrong, and Albus and the others that loved him would keep saying these things until Harry realized they were true.
It was about seven o' clock when Harry finally asked Isla to bring Albus back in.
"What do you need Harry?" He asked, a big grin on his face as he was glad that Harry was reaching out.
"You original came to talk about my treatment plan, right?"
"Yes Harry, that was original why, but I'm most importantly here for whatever you need. I'm listening to what you feel you need and what you want. I'm here to listen to what you believe to be in your best interest, the way I should have all along."
"Thanks, that means a lot," Harry meant it, but he still sounded depressed and it broke Albus' heart, but he went on.
"So, Ms. Jones believes that getting a psychological healer would be the best option for you. Everyone else agrees and many of the people who love you have been telling me for years that I should have sent you to one years ago. As someone who also cares about you, I must say I agree."
"Tonks said a psychological healer is like a therapist, is that true?"
"If a therapist is someone who helps someone cope with trauma and depression by talking with them about their experiences, then yes. A psychological healer is like a therapist."
"I don't really feel keen to talk to a stranger about my feelings when I can barely talk to the people I trust about them!" Harry replied, already getting irritated with the idea.
"I know Harry, but will you please consider it? Or tell me what else you want to do instead?" Albus hoped Harry would consider it and decide to at least meet with one.
"I'll think about it," Harry finally answered after a few moments.
Albus beamed at him, "I'm glad to hear that. Would you like your friends to come in and see you?"
"No, I just want to sleep."
"Harry, shutting down isn't the answer-"
"I'm just tired, alright?! I want to get some rest!" Harry snapped, annoyed that Albus was reading right through him.
"You do need to rest Harry and it's completely normal to shut down, just please don't shut us out."
With that Albus walked to the door and before closing it said;
"Good night Harry, I hope you sleep well tonight."
Harry snorted, 'as if I'll ever get a good nights sleep when my sleep's full of nightmares.'
He laid awake for several minutes, 'maybe seeing a psychological healer would help my nightmares.'
'Or maybe it would just prove to everyone how weak you are,' the cruel voice countered.
This time however, another voice came up into Harry's mind;
"Harry, I'm proud of you because you feel everything. We know you're strong because you feel everything despite being through so much."
This was the last voice Harry heard before falling asleep, and despite not stopping him from having nightmares it seemed to at least make them a little easier.
This chapter is a little longer than the others, but the next couple chapters will be shorter than my usual approx 5, 000 words. I know it has been a slow beginning, but soon the kids head back to Hogwarts and the story will really pick up! These chapters are just introducing some things that will be important later in the plot. I hope you're still enjoying my story!
Please, review to let me know what you think, and thanks for reading/following!
