Here's the fourteenth chapter, which is slightly very interesting, if I do say so myself. Half of the fun of this story is setting witches and wizards everyday jobs, and this chapter was certainly no exception. You'll see why. Just a bit of shameless plugging here: Attention Harry Potter fans! Itching to get your hands on some quality humor shirts based on your favorite series? Well, then this will be good news to you! Mugglewear, the newclothing station that's sweeping the nation, is now up, running and looking for a few good customers! We need You! Stop in today to check out the merchandise, and keep an eye out for new stuff. I promise, you'll get a laugh out of it. (link in my profile)

Hem, hem... Okay, I'm done now.

Warnings: None (aside from the plugging up there)

Chapter 13 - The Doctor

Harry sat in the reception room of a large building, chewing on his thumbnail in anger. The secretary at the desk was his only company. He sat at his desk, a doty look on his face, typing away at a letter. Every now and then, he would look down his nose and over his horn-rimmed glasses and give Harry a look that made him want to slap it off his face. He refrained, for he did not need to be in anymore trouble than he already was with his parents, did not need the drama, and the secretary in question was none other than one of Ron's older brothers, Percy Weasley. Harry had never quite liked Percy; during school, Percy had been on the academics team, a straight A student, taken all honors classes, been valadictorian of his class and highly ambitious - and quite the stuffy, pompous kind of person.

Somehow, Harry had forgotten that Percy held this job. When he had been hired here, straight after school, the Weasley family had thrown a celebration that Harry himself had attended. This particular psychiatric pratice was hailed as the best in all of Europe, dealing with a wide variety of ailments. It had been a great success for Percy to be accepted so soon, when most people did not get so lucky. He had started rather small, but his ambition aided him well, and he was now head secertary to the most influentual doctor in the firm, a man who was known as the most powerful and eligible bachelor in England. Not only was he a celebrated psychiatrist, he was also a weathly business man who seemed to have a hand in every goings-on in England, Ireland, and even in the Americas. Everyone seemed to work for this man, aside from James and Lily and the others who vehemently refused to sell-out.

So, there Harry sat, in the office of a man his parents did not particualrly care for, all because he was the only doctor in all of England qualified to assess Harry's condition. His parents' concern for his health outweighed their dislike of this man. He considered attempting conversation with Percy, but changed his mind as Percy gave him another disapproving look. Harry wondered what tale he would go tell to his family. He just smiled at Percy, who thought he was barmy. Hopefully, the Weasleys would know he was fairly sane.

"Harry?"

The door to his left had opened. Standing there, was a handsome man, possibly in his late forties. His black hair was beginning to become sprinkled with silver, but rather than make him look old, it gave him a dignified look. He was dressed neatly in a pair of dark gray slacks, a red turtlenecked jumper, and a black blazer with matching black loafers on his feet. He smiled at Harry. It was a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, dark green eyes that seemed to hold a malicious spark Harry was sure he had only imagined.

"You can come in now."

Harry got to his feet. Percy made a quiet disapproving noise, still typing at his letter. He merely glanced at this black sheep of the Weasley family before heading into the office. As he walked past the doctor, he smelled rich cologne and felt a familiar sense of pain in his forehead. It was a dull ache that screamed at him to remember... something. He shook his head. He couldn't tell what he was supposed to be remembering.

James and Lily were sitting in armchairs in front of a fancy desk beside the large window. There was a bookcase against one wall that was occupied with neatly arranged books from floor to ceiling. A Victorian fireplace took up the fourth wall, but since the days were still warm in the late summer season, there was no fire burning merrily in the grate. The doctor motioned toward the customary couch. When Harry sat, he moved to his desk. He leaned his tall, slender form back against the front of his desk, standing before the Potters.

"As I told you just a moment ago," in a voice that had rich, deep undertones, but a certain high quality to it. "For today, I'll just talk with Harry. If I can isolate the problem in this session, we can see what can be done about it, and follow-up sessions may not be necessary. If I cannot determine the cause, then we can go about scheduling the next appointment. Does that sound good, Mr. Potter? Mrs. Potter?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Lily said, looking at her husband.

"All right," he said, rubbing his hands and smiling at Harry. "Well, Harry and I have an hour together... We shall see you then."

He showed them to the door, reassuring them all the way that Harry was in capable hands. They bade him good-bye at the door then took seats in the waiting room. Harry heard them saying hello to Percy, who responded politely, as the door shut. The doctor moved to his desk. He picked up a stopwatch, pressed a few buttons to set it, then turned back to him, smiling that odd smile again. For a moment he stood there, looking at Harry who was looking back. They seemed to be sizing each other up.

"What would you like to talk about," the doctor asked. He turned one of the armchairs around to face the couch. Harry watched as he sat, his movements a fluid grace. There was just something about him, about the way he spoke, about the way he moved that shouted in familiarity at Harry.

"Why are you asking me," Harry said, still watching as the doctor watched him. "You're the shrink. Isn't it your job to ask me questions and decide how crazy I am?"

"No, Harry. It's my job to talk to you so I can find a way to help you if you need my help. Do you want me to help you, Harry?"

Harry did not answer. He just studied the face of the psychitarist before him. There was something familiar about that aristocratic face that looked snow-white compared to his jet-black hair, the tall and slender frame, those eyes that picked into his mind, hard and calculating. If only he could place it...

"Why don't you ask me questions, then, Harry?"

This took Harry off guard. The doctor was asking him to ask the questions. He stared at him for a moment, trying to see if he was being serious or not. "Fine... Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No, I don't. I think you might have a wild imagination, but I don't think that you're crazy, no."

"You think this stuff is all in my head?"

"It could be stress-induced, or it could be something else. We shall just have to see."

"Oh..."

"How about I tell you about myself, and then you can tell me about you?" Harry nodded. "All right. Well, I'm newly forty-six, but that's a secret." He wink conspiritaly at Harry. "I went to the same high school as you, graduated as valedictorian of my class, and traveled around Europe for three years before settling on psychiatry as my primary profession. At age thirty, I coupled that with a a few other business venturesm and steadily became the success I am today, all be knowing the right people and keeping my eyes on the prize." He paused here to clean his glasses on his jumper. "So, now tell me about you, Harry Potter."

"I'm seventeen years-old, I really have no idea what I'm interested in doing when I leave school. I have a few good friends, but I'm not immensely popular. I know who I can rely on."

The doctor nodded. "Somewhat of a loner. A few confidants, but you don't really let anyone in, am I right?"

"Yeah."

He nodded again. "I was the same way in school. I chose my friends very wisely, for the traits they offered and how that could benefit me. Look where it go me."

While the doctor smiled again, a slightly wary feeling rose up in Harry. There was something about the man before him that put him on guard. "I didn't chose my friends for the ways they could benefit me," Harry said. "I chose them because they care about me."

"Ah... Tell me about your family, Harry."

He had to resist rolling his eyes; why was it that all doctors asked about their paitents mothers? "My dad and mum are really great. I don't know where I'd be without them, even if they are a little overbearing. They thought I was going to die when I was little so they tried to keep me safe every way possible. They still haven't really let go, I guess... I have a sister, Chloe. She's younger than me by four years. She's... a holy terror. Mum and Dad were always so worried about me when we were little that I guess they didn't really pay her that much attention. Now she's a rocker and wears all this crazy make-up and black clothes, listens to her music all the time, and she recently got grounded for sneaking boys in."

"Sounds like she's acting out to get attention," the doctor said, leaning his head on a fist.

"I guess... Jason's our little brother. He's almost a year old, and he's a sweet little baby. Chloe really hates him, I guess because now he's the one getting attention. I've got a godfather. His name is Sirius, he owns a motorbike shop and lives with his... friend, Remus. And that's really it."

"I see. When you say 'his friend,' do you mean something else?"

"Well, they are friends."

"Are they in a homosexual relationship?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"And how does that make you feel?"

"They've been together since they were in high school. I've always known them like that. I'm glad they're happy."

"It doesn't bother you," he asked. "You don't find it offensive? Or a sin?"

'If he only knew,' Harry thought. "No. They were made for one another."

"Okay. How are things at home, Harry?"

"Fine when Chloe isn't pitching spazzes everywhere because she can't have new eyeliner or some skirt. Dad and Mum have family and friends over a lot, so I'm always around people, people I like. It's nice."

"And how were things at school?"

"They were... average. I was failing a few classes and had to pull them up, some of my teachers were vampires, I've got to start applying to colleges which means I have to figure out what I want to do, and I got into a few scrapes."

"Vampires, you say?"

"Yeah..." Harry got the impression he had said something wrong. The doctor was looking at him imploringly.

"You mean this metaphorically, I take it."

"Yeah, I do. I just meant that they were rough."

"I see. And how are things with your friends? Are you all getting along?

"Yeah. A friend of ours came home a few months back, that was great. We have our disagreements, but we're still really good friends. No matter what, at the end of the day, we'll always be there for one another."

"That's good," the doctor said. "Do they ever make you do something you don't want to do?"

"No."

"Do they pressure you into doing something you don't want to do?"

"Homework," Harry said, thinking of Hermione. The doctor gave a little chuckle.

"Your friends sound very interesting, Harry."

"They are."

"Tell me about these dreams, Harry," he said, the conversation very serious now. "When did they start?"

"A few months ago... I don't remember the exact date..."

He nodded. "And they only occur at night?"

"No... Sometimes during the day. I... I pass out."

"Tell me about them."

Harry opened his mouth, rather reluctantly, to speak. This was the part he had been dreading. Once he had told this man about his dreams of a dark, magical world and that he sometimes got vivid memories of what seemed to be another life, he knew the man would chuck him into the looney bin so fast, his head would pop off. It would be spinning that fast, you see.

"Well... It's always dark... and everyone I know, practically, is there..."

The stopwatch began to buzz, cutting Harry off mid-sentence. He restrained the urge to sigh aloud in relief. "Time's up, it seems," the doctor said. "Thank you for your cooperation, Harry. I am going to speak to your parents once more, and then we shall be finished, all right?"

"Sure."

The doctor stood and waited for him. Harry gladly got to his feet. With a smile, the doctor headed for the door. James and Lily were still sitting in the reception room. They ceased their conversation with Percy when the doctor held the door open.

"Harry, if you would, please take a seat and I'll return your parents to you shortly."

Harry sat in one of the fluffy waiting chairs. The doctor and his parents went back into the office, again leaving him alone with Percy Weasley. Percy was, once more, ignoring him inbetween disapproving looks.

His parents and the doctor soon came back. The doctor shook all of their hands, smiled, then sent them on their way. Harry looked back over his shoulder as they reached the exit door. The door to the doctor's office was closing, and Harry's eyes caught on a glittering name plack on the door. Something in him went ice cold when he read that name. It was a name he had heard, once upon a nightmare...

Tom Riddle.

Author's Response

emurez: Heehee, yes they did! Wasn't it so angsty and stuff?

Gay Ron: Thanks! Um... continue reading along to find out.

willow51: Thanks, and I will! Keep enjoying it!