Author's Note: And here we go again! I'm posting the rest of what I am keeping now, so the fun can start soon. Hope you enjoy!

Harry paced in his room. He didn't want to go to sleep. He didn't want to wake up screaming to see Paul's concerned face and Jack holding him until he stopped thrashing. He didn't want another muscle relaxer, which was the only thing that they could give him to help the tremors from the Cruciatus Curse, and he certainly didn't want to be here! Harry whirled and paced the other way. Five steps down, and five steps back. Not much more to his room than that. This place grated on his nerves. They weren't watched, per se, nor were they neglected. Paul always was happy to see Harry, and just talked with Harry. He stayed away from any topics of conversation that Harry said he didn't want to talk about, and Harry was glad of it. The less he thought about it, the better. He sighed and rubbed at his scar. It was burning, but at least he was awake. Voldemort always had a harder time getting at his brain if he was awake. That didn't stop Voldemort from trying.

Harry had been in a session with Paul when his scar came alive and nearly blinded him with pain. He hadn't been able to keep Paul from noticing. Paul was a doctor, after all! He had been able to tell that Harry was in very intense pain. He had wanted to help. Harry almost laughed. What could a Muggle do for a magical curse scar? Nothing at all. No need to worry him about it. Paul, however, wouldn't leave it alone and kept poking at Harry until Harry told him that he had a bad headache. The aspirin shoved down his throat hadn't helped the pain at all. Paul had tried though.

Harry went over to his desk and pulled out the letter he had received from Hermione just the day before. He had crumpled it angrily when he had first read it, but now he viewed it as a comforting item. Hermione, at the very least, knew where he was. That didn't mean that she was going to help him get out!

Dear Harry,

Why, that's wonderful news, Harry! I'm so happy for you. Nice to know that your aunt is finally acting like the adult she should have been all along. I'm sure that you're making quite a few friends there. There's got to be someone your age. Maybe you'll discover a hobby or something to lose yourself in. You have to admit, Harry, you do internalize a lot of what is bothering you. Muggle psychologists are bound by law to keep your secrets. Just thought you should know that bit.

I'm fine here. Mum and Dad are a little upset about the whole Ministry thing. After lots of threats about enrolling me in another school, I made them see reason. I've already started my homework (of course!) and am finding that I am quite looking forward to this year. Lots of new and interesting things to learn! If you want me to, I can get your sixth year books and send you my fifth year books so that you can start on your homework too! I'm not sure how much free time you have, but I'm sure that you can at least start the reading. Let me know! Arithmancy looks absolutely impossible, but I'm working hard on it. Please tell me that you've dropped that worthless Divination. Take something useful. Even Muggle Studies would be more beneficial to you than Divination. Hearing Professor Trelawny predict your death once a week is not good for you, as funny as Ron and you believe it to be.

Oh, my mom asked if you would like anything, like sweets or biscuits. She said that you need comfort food, as well as a good feeding up! I happen to agree!

I know that you're going to be horribly angry, Harry, but I absolutely refuse to call the old crowd or the headmaster. Rescue indeed! You need this, Harry! More than you realize. Just try, for me? Besides, Voldemort can't possibly find you if Dumbledore doesn't even know where you are. He would never imagine looking for you in a Muggle mental institution. Let's face it, Voldemort may be extremely evil in every sense of the word, but he is also very predictable. He'll think you're being guarded by fully-trained wizards, wands out and ready for any threat to you. He won't even try the Muggle world. Careful and well-placed comments have you hidden away in France somewhere, with a full compliment of Aurors guarding you.

The package has a surprise for you. Don't worry, it's completely muggle! I'm going to go now. Please write me back, even if it's just to rant at me for refusing about the old crowd and the headmaster. I hope to hear from you soon!

Love,

Hermione

Harry had written back, and did indeed rant at her for refusing to aid in his rescue. The rant had continued for several sheets of paper, ending with a half-hearted request for Bertie Botts, if possible, regular jelly beans if it wasn't. He thanked her mother for her thoughtfulness and signed it off, with a post script thanking her for the journal. Harry reached out and fingered the book, allowing the fabric to play across his fingers.

He opened the front cover to see Hermione's inscription. "Nothing here can judge you, Harry. It's just you here." She had drawn a little happy face and signed with only a 'Mione'. Harry smirked a bit and regarded the lined pages warily. Writing it down would give someone proof of what he was feeling. It would put him at risk. It might also help, kind of like a Penseive. Harry tucked the book back into a drawer and sighed. Maybe tomorrow? He sucked in air as his scar kicked it up another notch. Oh, Voldemort was ticked! Harry wondered what was happening, but decided that he didn't want to see it. When he started falling asleep at the desk, he stood and resumed his pacing. He had to stay awake. He froze as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He hit the desk lamp and jumped for his bed, quickly pulling the covers over his head and pretending that he was dead asleep. They would pass by and it would be another hour until another person would walk the halls. He almost jumped when he heard voices as his door opened. He clutched his wand beneath the blankets.

"How is he tonight, Jack?" Paul's voice asked. Harry relaxed. No danger at the moment.

"He's been sleeping ever since ten o'clock or so. He looked pretty tired in the art room tonight. Sparky said that he almost fell asleep in his paint." Harry smiled to himself, glad that his back was turned. Art was one of the few activities Harry had chosen to join. They didn't mind if he drew pictures of castles, trolls, centaurs, and wizards. The art teacher loved his drawings and paintings, asking Harry if that was the reason he had attended a gifted school. He let her think so. He, for some reason, enjoyed painting, the harder the project, the better. He could stop thinking all together and just lose himself in the colors. He suspected that the feeling was similar to the feelings Snape had during a difficult potion. To do something, and do it well, was very gratifying. No wonder Snape got so ticked at students who didn't take Potions seriously.

"Good. I've been worried about him." He heard Jack grunt in agreement. "He's been looking so tired, and those nightmares!" Harry wished that they would stop whispering about him and just close his door so that he could get back out of bed.

"I know. Seems like he's going to get some rest tonight though. I heard Sparky bargaining with him. He offered to eat a whole slice of pizza if Evan there would just take a nap. Evan deflected the argument, saying that Sparky had to eat anyway if he wanted to go to art, and that he would sleep tonight." Paul chuckled a bit and smiled.

"Don't know what he did to Sparky, but it has helped Sparky get back into the habit of eating. Even if it's only the equivalent of half a meal, it's still something in his system." Jack agreed.

"Don't know if Evan knows how much that helps Sparky." Harry was all ears now. He just hated seeing others pass up perfectly good food.

"He may have saved Sparky's life. I wasn't sure how Sparky would have responded to being confined to bed again with a feeding tube. We've already had two rounds. I couldn't stand another, and I'm sure Sparky would have hated it." Paul and Jack's conversation drifted off to commonplaces. Harry considered the information he had heard. He had saved someone's life by getting him to eat? That was nothing! He just made Sparky see that in order to build muscle, he needed something to build them. It was nothing. Yet, the two of them had talked as though Harry had done something special. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it.

Paul and Jack's voices were steady. Harry didn't even realize that he was falling asleep. Jack listened for a minute, holding up a finger. "He finally go to sleep?" Paul asked.

"Finally. I could hear this child pacing as though he were agonizing over something. It's not right, that he tries to stay up like this." Paul nodded. "You find out anything, shrink?" Paul frowned.

"Think of the hardest brain teaser, multiply it by ten, and then triple it. Then, and only then, would you have Evan's defense mechanisms. He's so bloody good at keeping what ever he thinks needs to stay secret away from me. And it seems that he had a lot of them." Jack motioned down the hallway. Paul and Jack collapsed at the nurses' station and Paul pulled the coffee pot towards him. "I can't get through."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Ah, Harry. So glad you could join me!" Voldemort said as Harry found himself in a dream. "I've missed you, Harry." Voldemort said in his most gentle tone possible. Harry shuddered away from his touch.

"No, you didn't." He answered, gritting his teeth in pain. "You've been planning this, just like you do every time I fall asleep." Harry rubbed at his scar. Voldemort waved a hand and conjured a bed. He waved his wand and levitated Harry to the bed. Harry fought to sit up, but Voldemort could be surprisingly strong in a dream. He tucked blankets in around Harry and stroked Harry's hand. Harry tried to pull away, but found he couldn't move much.

"Harry, why must you insist on continuing to fight against me? Wouldn't it be easier to just give up?" He asked in a soothing, almost hypnotic tone. "You're very powerful, Harry. So much so that Dumbledore is afraid of you." Harry shivered, though he had no idea what caused it. Every time this happened, Voldemort made it pleasant. Soft, warm bed, cozy fireplace, soothing tones. There was just one thing wrong with the picture, and that was Voldemort himself. He had only tried to use another's image once, and Harry's reaction had discouraged him from using Sirius's form. Harry wasn't sure what he had done, but Voldemort had left him alone for a full twenty-four hours. "I could help you become so much more than you are now. So much more a wizard." Harry wondered if Malfoy knew about this.

"I know your prices." He spat. Voldemort looked at him, slightly upset, but in a way that made Harry feel like he was a young child who had just disappointed a trusted adult. Harry hated that feeling, and ruthlessly pushed it aside. Voldemort may be able to manipulate his emotions while he was asleep, but he could do nothing to Harry's memories, no matter how much he tried.

"You don't have to keep fighting me, Harry. Just one simple word is all it takes, and everything stops. Dumbledore's manipulations, the Ministry, even others staring at you, goggling at your scar." Voldemort could make it so attractive. He should have gone into sales. He was one good talker.

"In exchange for groveling at your feet, constant pain and fear, and hurting innocents. Not worth it." Voldemort sighed in a way that made Harry feel like he was patiently going to explain again.

"I've explained this over and over. You'd be my second. The one to whom I would pass all my secrets. My equal." Harry again attempted to sit up, but only one hand restrained him and pushed him back into the pillows. "Harry, why won't you let me help you?" He asked.

"I will never be yours!" Harry snapped, trying to clear his emotions. Voldemort was feeding off Harry's needs, and Harry realized that he was extremely vulnerable. Voldemort reached out and stroked Harry's head.

"You will be, Harry. Once you realize that only I can help you. Only I can help you reach your full potential. That only I can protect you." Harry noted the desperation in Voldemort's voice and he knew that he was starting to succeed at getting Voldemort out of his mind. "A reminder, however, is in order, of what I am capable of!" Harry clenched his teeth as the spell hit him. "It doesn't have to be this way, stubborn child!" Harry heard him whisper as Voldemort left his mind. The curse continued for a few seconds before letting up. The cozy room disappeared as Harry heard voices calling him.

"Evan! Wake up!" Harry opened his eyes to see Jack there. He closed them again and tried to fight his way out of Jack's grasp. "Easy there, kiddo! Whatever you were dreaming about is gone." Harry pushed at Jack's hands. He knew he was shaking from the Cruciatus curse, and he knew what it looked like to Jack. Harry wanted to explain that Voldemort would never be gone, and that he was far closer than either Jack or Paul knew. Paul came in holding two cups.

"I'll take him, Jack." Paul said. Harry groaned as Jack pushed him back into his bed and stood. Harry just wanted to be left alone. Paul waited until Jack had shut the door behind him before speaking. "What was your dream about, Harry?" Harry took a deep breath and sighed.

"I can't remember." Harry remembered. He remembered very well. The fact that with a few words and gestures from Voldemort made him so weak, even in his own mind. That he had been helpless. How was he supposed to defeat Voldemort when he couldn't even sit up and stay up? The world was doomed, and it would be all Harry's fault. Voldemort would get both the world, and Harry, in one second. Paul shook his head, reminding Harry of Voldemort and the way he had looked, as though Harry had disappointed him.

"I think you do." Paul said, reaching out to touch Harry. Harry jerked away from his hand. Voldemort might be able to manipulate Harry's self-sufficiency in his subconscious, but Paul couldn't, and Harry took that for all it was worth. Paul moved his hand back and looked at Harry. "You know that it's not normal for a teenager to wake up from a dream, shaking and screaming, right?" Harry almost laughed.

"Who says I'm normal?" Harry rubbed at his scar. There wasn't pain there, just warmth, like Voldemort was trying something, but his intent was not to hurt Harry. Manipulation. That snake was so good at it.

"What I'm trying to say is that there is something seriously wrong for you to be having such violent reactions to dreams." Paul explained. Harry shrugged. "You're still shaking, Harry. Something obviously disturbed you greatly. Why won't you tell me? I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to help you!" Harry pulled the blanket around him and sighed.

"Would you believe that there is an evil maniac wizard with whom I share some sort of telepathic link? And that he uses my dreams as some sort of sadistic torture in futile efforts to get me to join him?" Harry said, wanting to see Paul's reaction. Paul blinked a couple of times. Well, that explained a few things. This was something more than just nightmares. Harry might have a condition!

"What's this wizard's name?" Harry couldn't believe that Paul hadn't dismissed what he had just said.

"Voldemort." Harry answered. His scar felt funny again. He rubbed at it. "This scar is what caused it, this link he and I share. He gave it to me." Harry yawned a bit. He was so tired, but if he went back to sleep, Voldemort would be there again. Just like he had been for the last two weeks. Every time Harry had closed his eyes, Voldemort had been there. It hadn't been too frightening at first. Harry could stand up to him and literally push him out of his mind. Now, Harry guessed that Voldemort was making sure that he was too weak to do much to him. "He wanted to kill me when I was a baby. Something went wrong with his spell. The killing curse rebounded and destroyed his body. That's why I'm the Boy Who Lived. I'm famous in the wizarding world, you know." Paul could hear the capitalization of the title. "That didn't stop him from coming back. He wanted to kill me, but now, he's being nice to me, and I won't join him. He always displays his power right before I wake up. It hurts." Harry realized that he was babbling, but couldn't seem able to stop. "I just want it to stop. He won't leave me alone."

"It is okay, Harry. I'm here and I'll stay with you. Will you sit up and take these for me?" Paul asked, holding up a cup. Two pills were in it.

"What is it?" Paul had never met such suspicious kid before.

"Sleeping pills, to help you sleep." Harry shook his head.

"I don't want to dream again." Harry refrained from pleading, but it seemed that Paul had understood.

"These will knock you out to the point where you won't be able to dream. Not entirely healthy, but you won't have a dream." Dreamless Sleep. Harry knew what that meant. He could have visions, but not those oh so creepy dreams that Voldemort loved to make for Harry. Harry reached out and popped the pills in his mouth. Paul handed him a glass of water. Harry tossed it back and swallowed.

"Thanks, Paul." Paul nodded and sat next to the bed, watching as the pills took effect. "Voldemort's the reason I shouldn't be here, you know." Harry slurred. "He'll kill you all, all the Muggles in the world, just to get at me. Too many people dead because of me. Sirius, Cedric, Mum and Dad." Harry shrugged. "Think I'm going to fall asleep now."

"You go ahead and do that." Harry couldn't even nod. His eyes closed and he drifted off. Paul stood and started pacing. There was something wrong with Harry. Something that no one at his school had noticed. Paul would have to check to see what some of the symptoms meant, but he was confident that with the right combination of medication and therapy, Harry could have a normal life. It had been done before. Paul stopped as a letter sitting out on the desk caught his eye. He was curious. Who was it from? What did it say?

Paul knew that if he read it and Harry found out, the boy may never speak to him again. But, his curiosity got the best of him. He picked it up. Ministry? Arithmancy? Divination? Muggle Studies? Voldemort. Paul dropped the letter. Harry had told his friends? Paul read the rest of the letter. If the letter was to be believed, Harry was actually a wizard and there was a character known as Voldemort after him. Oh, dear. He pulled out a pen and wrote down the return address. He needed to speak with this girl and find out if this was a game she and Harry had thought up, or if indeed there were wizards and the like. Doing so would tell him in what direction to take his sessions with Harry. He re-read the letter and replaced it on the desk. Hermione's house was only an hour. He could be there by seven. He only hoped that the Grangers were early risers. He needed to be back in time for his session with Harry.

Paul pulled up in front of a house and checked the address again, just to be sure that he hadn't become lost. If Harry and the letter were true, he was on his way to talk to a real wizard. Witch. Sorceress. Whatever girls were called, he was on his way to speak to one. He parked his car and noticed that the house looked completely normal. Well, appearances were deceiving. Once inside, he was sure that he could see all types of magical things. He was actually a little eager to believe that there was magic. After all, who wouldn't want to see magic come true.

He knocked on the door and waited, wondering if the family was up yet. "I've got it, Mum!" A voice said from inside. The door opened to reveal a girl around Harry's age with slightly bushy hair and brown eyes. "Can I help you?" She asked.

"I'm looking for a Hermione Granger. Are you she?" He asked. Hermione's eyes narrowed and he noticed her hand move to her pocket.

"Depends on who you are, what you want, and why you want to speak with her." Paul figured that all magical people were suspicious and paranoid by nature. That could be the only explanation.

"My name is Dr. Paul Lauter, I have some questions about your friend, Harry Potter, and I hope that you'd be willing to answer them." He told her. Best to be straight forward with her.

"You're Harry's doctor?" She asked. Paul nodded. "Sorry about the inquisition, but once I've explained things, I'm sure you'll understand." She beckoned him into the living room and sat down, motioning him towards a seat. "What do you want to know, Dr. Lauter?" She asked.

"Please call me Paul. Harry had a bit of a rough night last night, and told me some things. Normally, I wouldn't break his confidence, but I need to verify what he said so that I know in which direction to take his treatment. I was hoping that you could help me." Hermione sat back and nodded. Paul looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway.

"It's okay, Mum. This is Harry's doctor, Paul Lauter. Paul, this is my mother, Dr. Granger." Hermione saw his next question coming. "She's an orthodontist." Paul nodded and greeted Dr. Granger. Hermione's mother told her that she was going to the office now and that both her father and mother could be reached there, should Hermione need anything. "Is Harry okay, Paul?" Hermione asked.

"He's fine, physically." Hermione smiled. "I came across a letter from you, addressed to Harry, which is how I found you. There are classes that you mention. Arithmancy? Muggle Studies? Divination? Are all of these actual classes at your school?" Hermione smiled and nodded. "What, exactly, does 'Muggle' mean?" Hermione giggled.

"A non-magical person born to non-magical people is a Muggle. You are a Muggle. My parents are Muggles." She told him. "There is magic, if that's what you're wondering." She said, pleased to see the dumbfounded look. "I would show you some, but I'm not allowed to practice magic while school is out." He nodded in understanding. Magic was real. Paul realized that everything he knew about the world was wrong. "The magical world hides from the rest of the world. We don't normally allow non-magical people know about us. The only reason my parents know about the magical world is for the sole fact that I was born with magic and am considered powerful enough to train in its uses." Paul nodded, waiting for Hermione to go on.

"When I received my acceptance letter from Hogwarts, my school, we all thought it was a joke, until a witch and a wizard appeared on our doorstep to explain." She smiled. "My father nearly fainted dead away when he saw a teacup levitated. That's just parlor tricks." She chewed her lip. "Hang on a second, I think we still have the pamphlet somewhere about introduction to the magical world." Hermione left the room and returned just a few seconds later with two books and a pamphlet in her hands. "These will help later. Now, is there anything specific that you want to know?" Paul allowed his brain to catch up with him and nodded.

"Harry mentioned a wizard by the name of Voldemort. Who's he?" Hermione frowned.

"What did he say about him?" Paul checked his notebook.

"Harry said that Voldemort is 'an evil maniac wizard' with whom he shares a 'telepathic' link. Also that Voldemort uses dreams as a 'sadistic torture in futile efforts to get me to join him'. What does all of that mean?" Paul asked. He noticed that Hermione had turned slightly pale.

"Well, Voldemort is an evil wizard, and Harry does indeed share a link with him, through his scar." Paul sat back and regarded Hermione. He couldn't believe that that was true. "Harry and Voldemort go way back, as long as Harry has been alive, really. In fact, I picked up the book that has the whole story in it." Hermione started flipping through the book, obviously looking for a well-known page. Paul used the time to sort his thoughts. Magic was real, Harry had been telling the truth, and there was indeed a maniac wizard after Harry. No wonder the boy was so hesitant to say anything. He was most likely afraid of being sent to a real mental ward, one that restrained people and drugged them to make them manageable! Harry was afraid that Paul would think that he was crazy, and Paul had been ready to pronounce him as such.

"Here it is!" She announced. Paul looked at the title. The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Interesting. "Harry's mentioned here." She said, pointing to the page. Paul noticed moving pictures. Well, that was different. "The Boy Who Lived." Hermione handed it to him. Paul read through the article and sighed. That poor boy.

"Did Harry know about this, growing up?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"He didn't know until he found out about Hogwarts. Probably around the same time I did, when he got his acceptance letter. The Boy Who Lived stuff came later, when he first went to the wizarding street in London. It was a shock. He was used to thinking of himself as 'just Harry', and then he's told that he's famous for something he couldn't even remember." Hermione shrugged. "He's handled fame much better than I would have, that's for sure." She admitted.

"So, something happened to the spell that Voldemort tried to use to kill Harry, and Harry survived a spell that is supposedly impossible to survive, right?" Hermione nodded. "Anything else? It seemed that Voldemort was gone."

"Voldemort's body was destroyed, but not his spirit. He's back now. Harry blames himself." Paul was about to say that Harry had nothing to do with it when Hermione continued talking. "Voldemort found out about a spell that used the blood of his enemy to bring him back to corporal form. That enemy was Harry. Voldemort killed a schoolmate in front of Harry, and then tried to kill Harry. No one is exactly sure of how Harry managed to survive that time." Paul looked up.

"That time?" Hermione nodded.

"Harry's met Voldemort a total of five times. He's beat him four times, including the first time when he was a baby. Most of the teachers at school keep wondering when he'll stop coming back. All of the students do the same. Harry's built a persona around that idea, that he'll keep surviving. Now, everyone expects him to continue, and Harry seems to have the idea that he will be the one to kill Voldemort, the only one able to do it. That I don't understand at all." She sighed. "He keeps to himself, unless Ron and I bully him into talking about it, and then we are never sure about how much Harry is actually telling us."

"You said that most of the teachers wonder when Harry will stop coming back. Are there any who believe otherwise?" he asked. If there were, that teacher could be instrumental in helping Harry. Hermione smiled.

"According to Professor Snape, Harry is lucky to have survived as long as he has with his 'apparent disregard for the rules and well-being of others'." Hermione said.

"Who is he?" Hermione's smiled died.

"He's our Potions professor. He's brilliant at Potions, very clever. Intimidating to a fault. He hates Harry with a passion, or so he says. His actions lend evidence to the contrary. He's saved Harry's life a few times already." Interesting. Very interesting.

"What's their personal relationship like?" Hermione snickered.

"Mutual unadulterated loathing." She responded. "Harry dislikes him, and Snape is the same." She shrugged. "Snape does his duty as a teacher, and then some, but he seems to despise being in the same room with Harry." She frowned. "That's what went wrong with Occlumency, I'm sure of it." Paul raised an eyebrow.

"Occlumency?" Hermione smiled.

"I'm not sure what it is, exactly. Harry was learning it to block Voldemort from his head. Voldemort was tricking Harry, using his dreams to send him things that would give him more access to Harry. It worked and Harry came very close to being killed. Professor Snape was asked to teach Harry Occlumency, but something happened and the lessons stopped. Sounds like Harry needs those lessons again." Paul sighed. How in the world was he going to give Occlumency lessons? Perhaps he could write to that teacher? How in the world did a person contact a wizard? "Harry told me that Occlumency was about 'clearing your mind', and to keep emotions from getting the best of you. I'm still unsure about what that means." She admitted. Paul smiled. He had an idea of what that meant. That sounded like meditation! He could definitely teach Harry meditation. That was very easy.

"Now that I know that Harry was indeed speaking the truth, we'll have an easier time in figuring out his treatment. Unfortunately, I have to get back so that I'm in time for our session." Paul said, standing.

"Of course. If you need anything else, just call me." Hermione wrote out her number. "I'll be happy to give you a magical perspective." Paul thanked her and returned to his car. He now knew what to talk about today in their session, and how he could help Harry. He only hoped that Harry would be willing to work with him.

Author's Note: Well, that's it. From here on out, it will be just what I've written. Nervous? Who's nervous? A big thank you to the 28 people who have put me on their author alert list. Think you all could review and tell me how I'm doing after the next chapter? Let me know if I'm staying true to the story or not. I would appreciate it. And to the five who have me on their favorites, I now understand what Sylvia meant by "bubbling joy" when she described what it was like. Bubbling joy. Thank you!