TRIGGER WARNING!
Seriously, TRIGGERING MATERIAL AHEAD!
TRIGGER WARNING!
If you are NOT in a good mental head space right now, do not read. Please take care of yourself and your mental health. The story will still be here when you return. I promise.
TRIGGER WARNING!
Seriously, TRIGGERING MATERIAL AHEAD!
TRIGGER WARNING!
SPOILERS, but TRIGGER WARNING!
TRIGGERS INCLUDE: suicidality and talking of suicidal thoughts, feelings, and ideas. Depression and depressive symptoms.
HELP FOR UNITED STATES LOCATIONS
If you're in crisis, there are options available to help you cope. You can also call the Lifeline at any time to speak to someone and get support. For confidential support available 24/7 for everyone in the United States, call one eight hundred, two seventy-three, eighty-two fifty-five. 1-800-273-8255.
CRISIS TEXT LINE:
Text HOME for the following areas:
US and Canada: text 741741
UK: text 85258 | Ireland: text 086 1800 280
HELP FOR INTERNATIONAL LOCATIONS
Please look up the International Association for Suicide Prevention (IASP). You can be helped.
Author's Note: Seriously, people. Triggering stuff ahead. Please be aware that there is triggering material in this chapter. This chapter is really, really rough. Please take care of yourself and do what's best for you.
"Paul?!"
"Hello, Harry," Paul said as he turned from the window.
"How? I mean, it's great to see you, but you're here and I'm confused." Harry leaned back against the door. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment. He was happy to see Paul, but he was also scared? Confused? Surprised?
"I believe I can answer that," Khalid's voice said from the other side of the room. Harry looked over and his face said get on with it. "Some information made it to our father's desk, and he arranged this...or rather, asked me to arrange it." He moved forward and then hugged Harry to him, hand smoothing Harry's hair. "I'm sorry you haven't been well, little brother. Take your time. I'll make sure your doctor gets home when he needs to." He said softly in Harry's ear. Khalid's hand ruffled Harry's hair and then Khalid nudged Harry away from the door. He slipped out and the door closed behind him without a sound. Harry felt a fair number of spells he didn't know that Khalid knew. He and Paul would not be disturbed, even if the castle fell down around them.
Harry wasn't sure what to do. He stood there for a few minutes and then Paul walked over to him. He opened his arms and Harry stepped into them. This was Paul. Paul was here and it was good. The embrace was quick but firm. The older man stepped back and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. He gave Harry's shoulder a light squeeze and then gestured towards an armchair next to the window. Harry nodded and dropped into the chair with a sigh. The room they were in was comfortable...cozy, even. The armchairs were full and soft with pillows. Tiny tables that held a number of different things were available. Harry saw a chess set on one, and art supplies on another. A tray popped up on the table between them as Paul sat down and then studied Harry. "Let's eat some breakfast, and then we'll talk, okay Harry?" Paul asked. Harry nodded and Harry picked up one of the plates. This must be from one of the house elves who knew his eating habits.
Fresh fruit and crepes were on offer, along with a cup of coffee, fixed exactly how Harry liked it. He was not surprised to note that Paul's tea was made how he normally took it, and his crepes had a drizzle of chocolate on them instead of the strawberries that Harry was going to enjoy. They finished their meals in a few minutes. The feeling in the room was a little awkward. They both knew that Paul was there for a reason and that didn't make breakfast any easier for either of them. Harry finally finished his crepes and set his mostly empty plate back on the tray. Paul's quickly followed and he jumped a little when the plates disappeared and tea and biscuits appeared in their place. "I could get used to that." Paul said, gesturing towards the tray. His notebook and pen appeared, as usual, and he opened to a blank page. It was comforting in its familiarity. Paul had always had something to write with when working with Harry. "What's happened, Harry?" Paul asked when Harry remained silent for a full minute.
"It feels like everything is falling apart," Harry said softly. "Like nothing I do is right." Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and then rested his chin on them. "I'm sad, and tired, and I get these headaches and stomach aches. I feel like I want to cry, but I don't know why. I'm angry and I feel like screaming. I want to punch the walls around me and tell people to leave me alone. Except I can't."
"What do you do when these feelings happen?" Paul asked softly. Harry shrugged in response. "Harry?"
"What am I supposed to do, Paul?" Harry responded. "I can't...I don't." He rested the side of his head on his knees and sighed.
"You do sound tired, Harry." Paul told him. Harry shrugged in response. "What is it that you can't or don't?"
Harry tapped his toes on the cushion and shrugged again. Paul sat back in his chair and poured out tea, adding sugar for Harry. He set the cup closer to Harry and then placed two biscuits on the plate. Harry ignored it for a moment and then picked up the cup. "I don't...know?"
Paul studied Harry for a few minutes while Harry sipped at his tea and then ate a biscuit. Harry knew this trick; Paul would often just stay quiet until Harry cracked and spoke about what was really bothering him. "I don't think I belong here anymore." Harry finally said, his voice thick and raspy.
Paul set aside his notebook and pen. He sat forward to rest a hand on Harry's knee. "It's okay, Harry." Paul said in response. "It's okay to feel this way."
"I thought everything would be wonderful...that things would magically feel better, you know? That I would come back and everything would be fine and I would be fine, but it's not, and I'm not. I hate it. I just really, really hate it."
"What do you hate, Harry?" Paul asked.
"Everything!" Harry dropped his tea cup back into its saucer and pushed himself up from the chair. "I hate everything! I hate the magic that I'm learning that has absolutely no purpose! I hate that I've wasted the last six years learning magic that has no practical uses! I hate the idea of being an Auror. I hate the whispers around me. I hate the wizarding world, okay? I hate being famous here. I hate the fact that people look at me like I'm someone special. That I'm different. I hate the war. I hate Dumbledore for what he's done. I hate McGonagall for what she hasn't done. I hate being adopted, because the adoption was for more than one reason, even if Dracula thinks I don't know that, but hey, being adopted by the vampire has to be a good thing, right? Except now I have these people who can see through me, and if necessary, make me do things that I don't want to do - but I'll think I want to because that's how it works, and I hate it when they're right! I hate being underestimated all of the time. I hate my aunt for not loving me before all of this crap happened. I hate my uncle for what he did, and I hate Remus for not being there before, and Dudley for what he's done. I hate you because you're Muggle and you stay in the Muggle world, but you're the best person to help me, but I'm here and you're there and I hate that. I hate Voldemort for killing my parents and taking them away, and I hate him because now he's weak and pathetic and he loves me. Isn't it funny? The man who took my parents away loves me, Paul. He loves me. He's never loved before, because his mind has been under attack this whole time and now...now I feel like I shouldn't move forward with things because he loves me, and he loves me because I'm me, and before he hated me, but now he loves me, and I can't! I CAN'T!"
Harry dropped to the carpet beneath him. He had been pacing while he shouted at Paul. He wasn't sure when that had started. He was also convinced that the tea had Veritaserum in it for him to tell all of that in one go. He was suddenly too tired to even care. Now that it was all out, and he had shared it with someone, he was tired. He was tired. "I don't want to do this anymore, Paul." Harry finally said in a whisper.
"Do what, Harry?" Paul asked.
Harry's eyes shifted to his therapist. Should he tell him? What would happen?
Paul's face grew serious. "Harry, I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I would like an honest answer. Can you do that?" He asked.
"I'll do my best." Harry sank back onto the carpet and studied the ceiling, waiting for Paul's questions.
"You seem very sad and upset to me, Harry. Can you tell me about it?"
"Horrible, isn't it? I have all this money, and yeah, there's an evil dark lord out for my blood, and my aunt loves me now, and I have friends and...I don't want to be alive. I can't stop thinking 'Wouldn't everyone be better off without me?'" Harry responded.
"Are you feeling that things are hopeless?" Paul asked. Harry glanced at him. The notebook and pen were back. Paul was making notes.
"That's a good way to put it. There...just doesn't seem to be a point anymore. I mean, my depression came back, and yeah, I started feeling better with more sleep and regular food and Cassius made sure I exercised, but once I started feeling better, then all these thoughts started to creep in and..well...I guess they've always been there, but now I notice them. I don't want to die, Paul, but I also don't want to be alive, either. I can't stop thinking 'Wouldn't everyone be better off without me?'" Harry sighed and sat up. He pushed back his hair a few times and then looked at Paul. "How pathetic is that?"
"Not pathetic at all, Harry. Not at all. Don't label yourself." Paul paused to write something down before he continued. "What you're feeling is more common than you think. I bet there are people here at Hogwarts right now having some of the same thoughts." Paul leaned forward and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, taking a moment to squeeze it. "You are not alone, Harry. You are not the first to have these thoughts and feelings. There are people all over the world going through them, just like you are."
Harry studied Paul's earnest face for a full minute before dropping his eyes and nodding. He took a deep breath. Maybe...it wasn't so bad? Not if others were going through the same thing?
"Another question, Harry. You said that you don't want to be alive. Do you have a plan to kill yourself?"
"No...not really. I mean, if the castle would collapse on top of me or if Voldemort used the killing spell on me, I wouldn't be too upset, you know?" Paul nodded and made another note.
"If circumstances were to change - if everything that is causing you some type of stress or anger were to suddenly change, would you still want to die?" Paul asked.
Harry thought for a moment. "No?" He said. "There'd be no reason."
"If your circumstances changed, and you find yourself still on this planet five years from now, can you see what that would look like?" Paul asked.
"You mean, if I were to still be alive and doing what I want?" Harry wasn't sure what the point of that particular question was. Either he was going to be here or he wasn't. That question made no sense.
"Yes, exactly. What would your life look like?" Paul asked.
"I'd work on the West End and be an actor. Maybe not the main role but a side role. Maybe I've been to drama school. That would be nice. I think I'd like that. Learning all about acting. Maybe I've had singing lessons at drama school?"
Paul's pen scratched in his notebook. "What about family, Harry? What would that look like?" Paul asked.
"I bet Aunt Petunia and Remus would be married. They really seem to like each other. Maybe Dudley is there, too...Sunday dinners would be nice. Holiday get togethers."
"And your friends, Harry?" Paul asked. "What about your friends? What would you do?"
"Hermione and I would definitely still be friends. We started a Star Wars club. Maybe she'd watch the movies with me. I still need to see the last one….and there are books! Did you know there are books?!"
"Yes, I did. I think that you'll like them when you read them. So, you and Hermione would still be Star Wars fans and have your club. What else?"
"I think she and I would hang out in London. There's a lot to do there, you know. Museums and shows and stuff."
"Uh-huh. And Dracula?"
"Oh, yeah. I'd visit him. He's nice. I like visiting him. So long as he doesn't take me shopping." Paul couldn't help smiling at the face Harry made at the idea of shopping.
"What else, Harry?" Paul asked.
Harry blinked and considered the question for a few minutes. "That's already a lot," he finally said. "I mean, that's a lot for me," Harry said.
"You're right. So, you can see a future for yourself. Do you know what that means?" Paul asked.
"I have an excellent imagination?" Harry asked.
Paul snorted and shook his head. "No, that's not what it means, but you do have a pretty good imagination. What it means is that somewhere in your mind, you have some hope for your future," Paul told him. "You're not feeling completely hopeless."
"Cassius told me that it isn't the amount of time I have left on this earth, but how I make use of that time that really matters. That helped. I even wrote some stuff down." Harry paused, hesitant to share this with Paul, but knowing it was a good idea. "Would you like to see it?"
"I would love to." Paul responded. Harry held out his hand and the notebook in which he had written down everything came into his hand. He handed it over to Paul and Paul opened it. He blinked and Harry smiled. Writing appeared on the page for Paul to read. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to magic, but it's still really cool," Paul told him.
"Some of it is, and some of it isn't," Harry told him. He looked around the room and his eyes landed on the art supplies. "Can I draw for a while?" Harry asked.
"You never have to ask permission for such a thing, Harry. Knock yourself out," Paul told him. Harry went over to the art supplies and rummaged through them. There was a bunch of different media to choose from, and Harry allowed himself to go through it all, looking for what he wanted.
Paul glanced over at Harry and saw that Harry was sprawled on the floor with art supplies surrounding him. Paul wanted a house elf. When he had arrived with Khalid that morning, the little creature had popped into the room and had asked how it (Paul still wasn't sure what the elf's name or gender had been) could help "Harry Potter's mind healer" set up things for "Harry Potter, sir." Aside from the elf's tendency to speak in the third person, it had been extremely helpful; no notes were taken, but everything Paul had thought they would need had been provided. Art supplies, comfortable furniture, distractions like pillows with different textures, candles with different scents, and even a thick rug that invited people to roll around on it. In other words, things in this room were as perfect as a magical creature could make it. Paul really, really wanted a house elf. Too bad they only lived with wizards. Perhaps, he could exchange notes with one about what they considered necessary. Paul had thought his own office was welcoming, but this place seemed...cozier. Maybe he should add a few things to his own office after having seen what the house elf did.
Paul read through Harry's notebook a few times, pausing to make notes in his own notebook. He wrote down only ideas that could help Harry reach the goals he had recorded, and was happy to note down that Harry had filled out his ideas and wishes with a great deal of detail, far more detailed than what he had just told Paul. It made him feel a little relieved to see it in black and white; Harry was not hopeless and Paul knew that Harry still had some idea that things may turn out differently than he expected. There was always hope, and Paul was glad to see it. He finished reading through Harry's materials for the third time and then closed the notebook to set it aside.
Paul paused to check on Harry and the boy was still drawing. He seemed content at the moment and was wiggling his foot in an absent-minded way while his hand moved across the paper in front of him. Paul had to wonder what Harry was drawing and hoped that Harry would share with him later. Paul flipped to a new page and made a quick list of things to cover with Harry. He would need to come back on a regular basis for a while. That wouldn't be a hardship for him at all, and it would ease his mind as well. He had been concerned about Harry since their last session. Khalid had already offered his chauffeur service in case Paul needed to come back. Traveling with a vampire was certainly a fun experience. It was fast, and Paul had to admit to enjoying a private airplane for the first time in his life. He wasn't sure that a private airplane would be the way he traveled every time he needed to come and see Harry; perhaps there was a train station that would get him close enough.
He waited until Harry looked away from his drawing and motioned Harry back to him. "Would you like to share what you drew?" Paul asked.
"Just a scene from Star Wars," Harry said, holding up the picture for Paul to see. Paul blinked at the image. There was Luke Skywalker, staring out at the Tatooine suns.
"There's no 'just' about this, Harry. It's really well done," Paul told him. "Okay, Harry. Let's go over a few things. You remember the triangle I taught you?"
"Yeah. Thoughts, behaviors, and feelings, right?" Harry asked, settling down next to Paul.
"Good memory." Paul drew the triangle with thoughts at one point, behaviors at the second, and feelings at the third. "Thoughts influence behaviors, behaviors influence feelings, feelings influence behaviors, and behaviors influence thoughts. Back and forth it goes." He moved his pen along the lines, talking Harry through the triangle. "Let's break down some of what you told me, and then we're going to make a plan for you to follow, as well as a list of things for you to do when you're having suicidal thoughts. What do you think?"
Harry looked at the small list Paul had made and then nodded. "I'll give it a shot."
"All I ask is that you try, and let us know if you need help. You can be helped. I'm going to be coming back on a regular basis to check in with you and work with you, but you'll have to keep communicating with us. I know it can be hard, but are you able to do that?"
"I think so," Harry agreed. He glanced up at Paul and then snorted at the face the man was making. He was waggling his eyebrows at Harry to see if Harry was really paying attention. "I will continue to communicate, as long as you promise that your eyebrows will stay on your face, because the idea of them flying off is truly disturbing."
"You can do that?" Paul asked.
"Hmmm…..maybe? Never tried, and honestly, don't see the the point of it," Harry admitted.
"Let's leave my eyebrows where they are, okay?" Paul asked. "Let's look at this and we can discuss things and see if we can't make things easier on you. First step: know that the feelings you are having are just feelings, and you don't have to act on them. Understand?"
"Yes, I understand," Harry said. "I promise, Paul. I understand."
"Good. So, second step. We fill out the plan." Paul pulled out a printed out sheet of paper with different boxes on it. Each box had a title. The first one was "Warning Signs I am in Crisis." Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He filled in the box after talking with Paul about what that meant and they went through the sheet pretty quickly. He had strategies listed to help him calm down, help him to distract himself from distressing thoughts and anxiety, and people he could talk to if he felt he was in danger. Cassius and Khalid were both listed, along with Paul, Hermione, and his aunt. Last resort was Madame Pomfrey, but Harry was hoping to keep unnecessary wizards and witches out of the situation. He just...didn't trust them. They were desperate against Voldemort's looming shadow of violence, and he was worried that some of them wouldn't do the right thing in the face of that.
"Paul?" Harry said softly, reading over his plan. "What if this doesn't work?" He asked. He wasn't sure what "this" was, but he had to ask the question.
"What's 'this', Harry?" Paul asked, shifting to sit directly in front of Harry on the floor, face to face. He reached one hand out and rested it on Harry's hand, squeezing lightly. Harry shrugged. "You must have some idea…"
"Everything?" Harry said in response, frustration plain in his voice. "What if, despite this plan, I don't start feeling better? What if I spend what few days I have left just sad and angry? What if…?" He paused. He knew what he wanted to say, but saying it aloud made it real, and Harry really, really didn't want to believe that he would do it, regardless that it would be a type of release...things would be over.
"Your pain doesn't end when you kill yourself, Harry," Paul said clearly and firmly. "You may not be here to see it, but the pain will continue. Your family and friends will have your pain in addition to their own. Unanswered questions and what ifs will fill their immediate days, followed by days that are forever changed due to your absence, and then holidays without you there, and it will continue on for the rest of their lives. Your place in their lives, and your place in this world, will be left wanting. You will be so missed by a lot of people."
"What you're feeling is temporary, Harry. I can assure you of that. It is temporary. It won't last forever. These feelings will eventually end and you'll start feeling better. Maybe not right away, and you may feel worse before you start feeling better. You may have setbacks and frustrations with this whole thing. If this plan we made doesn't do the job, there are other methods we can try. There is always another way, Harry. There is always another choice. I can honestly tell you that your aunt, and Remus, and your friends, and yes, I, want to see you healthy, happy, and whole as a person. If that means you aren't a wizard anymore, or if you decide to become an accountant instead of an actor, or if you just really, really like collecting Star Wars memorabilia, then that's what will happen. What we don't want to see is you miserable and in pain. Keep talking with us, Harry. Let us know what's happening in your life and in your emotions. We can help you, and you can be helped. Know this: your death will leave a large whole in this world that no one else can fill, and I say that as a person who knew you before I knew you were a wizard. You are not alone. This is not hopeless. There is always another way. I promise you." Something broke and Harry could feel his face grow hot. Paul leaned forward and gathered him in his arms. "I've got you, Harry. You're not alone. There are many other things we can try if this plan doesn't work. It's just step one to find something that will work for you."
"This is the library," Harry told Paul, making the stone transparent in the passageway. Harry had offered a tour of Hogwarts for Paul, and Hogwarts herself was making it happen. She had opened her secret tunnels and passageways to allow the pair of them to wander around without being seen by others. "There is a restricted section over there and the books scream if you pick them up without a pass," Harry explained.
"Screaming books in a library?" Paul asked. "That seems…"
"Illogical?" Harry finished for him. "It is, especially since the librarian insists on no noise whatsoever in the library. She has tossed me and my friends out of the library more than once for just talking." Harry motioned with his head for Paul to follow him. "Next stop, the Defense classroom." Harry led Paul down the passageway and Paul couldn't help but look around at the decorations they passed.
"Harry?" Paul said, stopping to point out a symbol on the wall. "What's this?" Paul asked. There was a circle with a lightning bolt in the middle, slightly gilt with gold.
"The Magus symbol," Harry answered, returning to Paul's side. "It's old, but I'm not sure how old. I know very little about the relationship of the Magus to Hogwarts," he told Paul.
"Does everyone get to use these tunnels?" Paul asked, curious.
"No...just me and my guests," Harry replied, motioning for Paul to follow him.
"How do you…?"
"I'm the Magus, Paul. Or so Hogwarts tells me." Harry reached out a hand and patted the bare stone, causing sparks of light and color to reverberate along the tunnel. "I know very little about it...just what that means." Harry gestured towards the sign on the wall before shrugging and turning away. Paul followed after him, a little mystified by what he had just learned. Perhaps there was more going on than Harry would admit to right now, but he had a feeling that Harry would confide in him, given enough time.
Author's Note: I promise you, my readers. If you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide, YOU CAN BE HELPED.
Those resources again for those of us needing support:
HELP FOR UNITED STATES LOCATIONS
If you're in crisis, there are options available to help you cope. You can also call the Lifeline at any time to speak to someone and get support. For confidential support available 24/7 for everyone in the United States, call one eight hundred, two seventy-three, eighty-two fifty-five. 1-800-273-8255.
CRISIS TEXT LINE:
Text HOME for the following areas:
US and Canada: text 741741
UK: text 85258 | Ireland: text 086 1800 280
HELP FOR INTERNATIONAL LOCATIONS
Please look up the International Association for Suicide Prevention (IASP).
Author's Note: What's this? There's another chapter?! You bet there is! I couldn't leave it at this, so my therapist (who is oh so wise!) suggested posting two chapters at once since this first one was so heavy. Onward, dear readers!