Thank you to the beta of this chapter- songofstars
Chapter Thirty Six – Letting The Healing Begin
Harry rapidly bounced his leg up and down, flicking his eyes quickly to the clock that hung above the bookcase every few seconds in hopes that time would start to speed up and to the Mind Healer who sat across from him. Every so often he would look over at his Professor who sat at the kitchen table marking papers and pretending that he wasn't paying attention to what was happening in the living room.
The Mind Healer seemed to be much older than the Headmaster if Harry had to guess; age and great wisdom written on the many lines on the elderly wizard face.
The Healer's, who insisted on Harry calling him David or Dave, face peered out from under a wedge of a blue bedazzled hat, much like the ones Dumbledore wore with a matching robe. The hat was the only thing on his otherwise bald and mottled head save a sparse fringe of white. His eyes were so heavily lidded and weighed down with wrinkles and folds that it almost appeared that the old wizard was sleeping.
Harry watched as the Healer tapped a muggle pen on a notepad, every now and again scribbling something down. For the first couple of times, Harry would try to read what was being written but soon came to the realization that he was incapable of reading upside down.
"You keep looking over at the clock. You know, a watched clock never moves," The Healer spoke. Harry couldn't help but smirk. Hermione was known to say the same thing to him and Ron during times when they would study together. "You are welcome to talk about anything you like."
"I have nothing to talk about," Harry mumbled, his attention being drawn to his Professor who cleared his throat loudly before giving him a pointed look.
"Professor, perhaps it would be a good idea if Harry and I talked in private?" The Healer suggested, this time with Severus getting the pointed look from the Healer. "If that's alright with you, Harry? Professor Snape is welcome to stay if that makes you feel more comfortable. All I ask is that he keeps his opinions to himself." The Healer spoke with a small smile, similar to the Headmaster's.
"I...I would like him to stay," Harry replied in a whisper, his body betraying him as his cheeks reddened slightly as embarrassment washed over him. He knew that he wasn't being rational, he knew that the Healer, or David, wouldn't hurt him and even if he tried he would be able to defend himself with his wand but he still couldn't shake the feeling of what if. What if he couldn't protect himself? What if he was foolish enough to accept tea or sweets from the man? What if he found himself unable to move, unable to run, unable to cry out as the man ran his hands over his body? Harry let out a shiver at the thought, all the while knowing that if something did happen, he knew that Snape would protect him.
"That's alright Harry, but I would ask again that your Professor keeps his thoughts to himself," the Healer said as he gave Severus one last look before turning back to Harry. "I can understand you not wanting to talk about what happened; but you can talk about anything you like, how school is going, friends, quidditch. You play seeker for the Gryffindors right? How is that going?"
Harry gave a small shrug of indifference "It's alright, I guess. I been the seeker since first year"
"But you never wanted to?" The Healer questioned.
"I thought Snape didn't tell you anything?" Harry said defensively. If Severus told him that he never liked playing quidditch, what else did he say about him? Harry considered his life to be private and he didn't like the thought that Severus was talking about him to someone he didn't even know.
"Professor Snape didn't tell me anything. I don't need someone to tell me that you never wanted to be a seeker, not when it's written all over your face," the Healer explained. "You want to tell me about it?"
"There's nothing to tell. My Head of House saw me fly and thought I had some talent. I was on the team the next day, training in a week. I was only placed on the team because my dad was a seeker for his house during one of his school years and ended up winning a trophy," Harry grumbled. James had also been a Chaser at some point, but holding the same position or even getting back on the team was not guaranteed year after year, the only reason he had remained seeker was because he was the best. "First years don't usually even make the team, they don't even get to try out."
"People compare you and your father a lot?" The Healer asked even though it was more of a statement then a question before jotting something down in his notepad.
Harry's eyes quickly flicked over towards Snape before landing back on the Healer. "I thought you were here about Lockhart, not my father?"
"Do you want to talk about Lockhart?"
"Not particularly," Harry mumbled "It's complicated. I just want to forget about Lockhart and what he did but I can't because it's everywhere, all because I had to go and see him and I don't even know why or what good it did. Now everything is in the Daily Prophet, on the front page for everyone to read; everyone except me because someone unsubscribed to the Daily Prophet," Harry explained in anger as he gestured to Severus who was still pretending like he couldn't hear anything, Harry knew that the man had ears like a bat.
The Healer nodded along as Harry explained his situation, letting out a small hum at the end as he once again wrote something down on the notepad.
"What are you writing?" Harry finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Nothing to worry about, just small notes to remind me. Your memory tends to go when you are as old as I am," the Healer explained before giving Harry a small reassuring smile. "Why don't you tell me—"
"I don't want to talk about Lockhart, anymore," Harry quickly spoke, cutting the Healer off before he could finish his sentence. He felt something rub against the back of his neck before Hedwig hopped onto his shoulder then dropped down into his lap to settle in, nuzzling up to him before reaching up and playing with the strings of his sweatshirt.
"Cute owl," said the Healer.
"She's mine," Harry said as he took his strings and moved them behind his back so Hedwig couldn't pull on them. "Hagrid got her for me for my eleventh birthday." He looked down at her, noticing the look she usually gave him when she wanted a treat. "Sorry, girl. I'm out of proper owl treats and Snape won't let me feed you what you want." Harry grinned, keeping his face down as he noticed Severus glare at him for a moment. This caused Severus to put a little too much ink in his quill and so the next mark he did was a hideous blot. It was all Harry could do to keep his face straight while Severus cleaned the mess up before going back to marking papers.
"You've had her that long?" The Healer was also pretending not to laugh at the unfortunate Professor at the moment.
"Yes, she's been with me since I started school here," Harry explained. "She is the first and only owl I've ever had. I should ask Hermione how long owls live for. Hedwig was already an adult when I got her." Harry mentioned, petting the white speckled wings, suddenly thinking about something. "I wonder if she ever had any chicks…"
The Healer got up and dug around in his bag for a moment, pulling out a brown leather-bound book cover, running his hand over the cover to clear off any dust before holding it out to Harry. Harry noticed that it had an owl picture etched in the top cover that looked similar to Hedwig. Harry politely took it and opened it to find blank pages. "Why don't you do some writing in that?" the Healer said. "You could start by making notes for owl facts. I also want you to use this book to write down your thoughts and feelings."
Harry tossed the book down on the coffee table, earning himself a small disapproving hoot from Hedwig. "The last journal I wrote in tried to kill me."
The Healer let out a small chuckle "I can guarantee that this journal isn't going to have you killed; in fact, it will help you. All I ask is that you write a little something each night before bed. It can be anything you like."
"…Maybe" Harry muttered, still not keen on the idea.
"I also want you to think about stepping out of your father's shoes. I think the first step is talking to your quidditch captain about no longer wanting to be on the team," the Healer suggested before the clock donned out the time.
The Healer stood up, brushing his robes off before picking up his bag from the ground. "Well, this has been most insightful. I will take my leave, for now. Perhaps I could bring some owl treats for her next time," the Healer mentioned with a small smile. "Please try and write in the journal. I will see you next week, Harry," the Healer said, bowing slightly before leaving.
