Open Hand

Harry arrived five minutes before his appointment, feeling something he thinks is annoyance, but very well could be irritation. And it all had to do with the Professors he's had today. Every. Last. One. Of. Them. Had been giving him looks, and it wouldn't have bothered him so much if it wasn't for the fact that they all looked at him like he was going to explode, or something at any moment. Even McGonagall was doing it!

Speaking of Professors….

Harry stared wide-eyed at Snape, heart still hammering from when the man had loudly, and suddenly, slammed Mary's door open. The Potion Master just stood there, breathing slow, deliberate. Like he was fighting back to yell, scream, or something.

"…..Erm?" Harry started nervously.

Dark eyes whirled his way, and Harry's back stiffened, they started at each other for a long time before finally with a violent shake of his head Snape left. Robe bellowing, Harry watched him go, very much confused.

"Ah Harry, you're early."

Harry looked, and found Mary standing in the doorway, smiling, and looking as though she had not just finish dealing with a pissed off Snape.

"Y-Yeah," Harry stuttered out, entering the office upon the woman's beckoning, "what was that all about?" he then asked, as Mary closed the door.

"Ah, yes. Well, apparently, I hit a nerve."

Harry wanted to know, but then again, he didn't.

"And how was your day?" Mary asked as she got out the cardboard, and puzzle, the pieces they had put together preserved by a spell.

"The Professors kept looking at me like I'll go mental, or drop dead." Harry grumbled as he sat down on the carpet.

"Well, in my opinion, everyone's a little mental."

"There actually might be some truth in that," Harry thought, remembering his previous adventures.

"Also, I think I owe you an apology." Mary sighed, "what's with that look?" she then added.

"Why do you need to apologize to me?"

"Remember the meeting I had with the Professors?"

Harry nodded, he figured that was the reason for the looks, however, he never considered it would that bad if Mary had to apologize.

"I told them that I was your therapist, to which I had to explain what a therapist was, to which I then had to explain what a Psychologist was, and what they did. From there, they drew their own conclusion, most likely wrong ones judging from your day."

"But that, that's not your fault."

And it wasn't, the Professors just didn't understand, granted Harry himself only knew that therapist like Mary helped people with relationships, and other emotional issue because of the telly. Anything else, was what Mary told him.

"Can't you tell them that I'm not crazy, or going to die."

"I could, and have, however. They have, and will, insist on knowing what it is, and unless yourself tell them, or give me permission to tell. I can't say anything."

"Oh."

Mary studied her patient's expression, it was a mixture of thoughtfulness, but also something like happiness, as though the fact that something personal of his would remain so. However, that quickly changed to something resigned.

"I think," Harry spoke up, "I think you should tell them."

"Oh?" Mary picked up two pieces, and put them together.

Harry nodded, "They'll listen to you, and you know more about what's wrong with me."

"Are you sure? Doing so will change a lot of things, beside the way they look at you."

"I know but, like I said. Keeping secrets is not a good thing."

Mary placed down the two pieces she was working on, and turned so that she was looking straight into Harry's eyes.

"Harry, I want you to understand something. No one has the right to know everything about you, Boy-Who-Lived be damned. You don't owe them, or whoever, and if they have a problem with it. Tell them to fuck off. "

"…..I'm starting to think you didn't need your brother to get into trouble."

Patient: Harry James Potter

Age: 16

Mr. Potter has authorized me to explain to the teaching staff of his status, however what goes on in our sessions, or any updates with remain under doctor-patient privileges. I informed Mr. Potter that this may change his interaction between him and the staff, and may even open up feelings within him, and them. Mr. Potter said he was aware, and still wanted to go through with telling.

Next session, I will continue Legilimency lessons, as well as start addressing his relative's abuse.

(Next to the written transcript is sticky note with Professor Snape's name, as well as Poppy's. Underneath the written transcript is a formal letter to Nicholas St. North. )

~.~

"What happened to Professor Snape, that made you feel so guilty?"

The tea cup inches away from her lips, paused, very slowly she placed the cup back down on the saucer. Placing her hands in her lap, Poppy closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she opened them, Mary was still sipping her tea, calmly waiting for the woman.

"How did you know I felt guilty?" Poppy asked.

"People give themselves away, we like to think we have a handle on ourselves, but we don't. Outbursts, conversations, body gestures, little quirks, off handed comments, can tell you a lot about another person."

"What gave me away?"

"Out of all the adults, Snape was the only one you expressed concern for. At first I thought it was because he was abusing his authority, which he is by the way. And that should be dealt with immediately. There were also other clues, mostly from what I hear from the students."

And Harry, but Poppy didn't need to know that, while the Medi-Witch had more knowledge, that was only limited by what Harry allowed Mary to tell.

"The real tip off was with my conversation with him, and the reaction he gave me to one comment."

"And what was that?"

"I asked him, if the reason for the abuse he gives to some of his students is because of the same abuse he suffered as a child."

Poppy's eyes widen, "You asked him that?"

Mary nodded, "He did not take it well."

"I imagine not, goodness Mary, what possessed you to say such a thing?"

"What possessed a school staff to ignore abuse, and dangers to their students?"

That shut Poppy up right quick, Mary went back to her tea.

"I….I don't…..there…." Poppy stumbled over her words, and Mary waited, knowing that the conclusion will come to the woman, it's all been leading up to this.

"What I have done, what I didn't do." The Matron's voice was hitching, eyes shining and wet. "I'm guilty of it, years ago, a student of mine suffered. But I dismissed it as children being children, though if I'm being honest, favoritism, and Albus's influence also played a part. And now—" Poppy swallowed, she wiped her eyes, and took a moment to get herself together. "What should I do?"

"Fix it."

"With You-Know-Who, and—"

Mary firmly placed her cup down, interrupting Poppy.

"Is an excuse." The woman gave a thoughtful pause, "A very good excuse, but still an excuse. Fix it."

"How? Where do I even start?"

Mary smiled, "You already started when you contacted me."

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