Neville had always known he was afraid of many things. From being afraid of the dark as a child to being afraid of letting down all his friends and family when he was older. He had always been away in some subconscious part of his mind that he was never going to be one that just shed away his dears as if it were a heavy winter cloak in summer.

But now it was going too far, it was affecting his day to day life and he knew he had to get help.

Which had now all led to him sitting in a comfy chair, very uncomfortably as he waited for his name to be called for him to see a therapist.

He hadn't known what else he could do, but he needed the help and the lovely man at the doctors surgery had referred him to this department and he hoped that it would help.

"Mister Longbottom?"

He took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled as he stood up and strode into the room with a false confidence.

It didn't appear to be much; a desk over the far side and two seats near to the door. He sat in the seat the psychologist motioned him to and inhaled once more, a tad bit more shakily this time.

"Hello, I'm Beatrice. It's nice to meet you. So what brings you in today? I see from your notes you've got a phobia… ?"

"So, um, I—Yes—What I mean to say is..." Neville could feel himself beginning to blush and he was sure the tips of his ears were starting to turn red.

"There's no need to rush, Mister Longbottom, take your own time."

Neville closed his eyes and clenched his fists as they rested on his knees.

"I—I have… I have a fear of long words. And I know it's a stupid thing, but I can't help it, and now it's getting in the way of my life and I need help."

"Okay, and when did you find this starting?"

"I think it must have been throughout my degree. It all just seemed like a lot of information and it all just got thrown at me and it seemed overwhelming."

"I see. What are you getting your degree in?"

Neville's face split into a smile, finally happy to talk about something he was passionate about. "Plants. I love them! I'm trying to breed a new species of-" He broke off abruptly as his heart began to race and his hands became sweaty.

"Okay, look at me, Mister Longbottom—is it okay if I call you Neville?"

He felt himself nodding even as he felt disjointed from himself.

"Okay, Neville. I want you to take one big deep breath in with me. It doesn't matter if we don't quite get it right the first time. We'll just take another breath until we get there. Okay?"

He watched with stiled breaths as Beatrice exaggerated her breathing and he tried to mimic it.

"That's it... No problem... And now, on this next breath, we're going to hold it in for five seconds, okay? No rush and if we can't do it, we'll try again. Now, let's try to slowly breathe out. Take your time..."

Neville copied her motions and slowed down his breathing to a more normal pace.

"How many times do you think that happens each day, Neville?"

"Erm, maybe five times or more. I try to avoid words, but sometimes they just creep up on me."

"Okay. So let me see if I've got everything right: you're experiencing a lot of anxiety over long words and it's making things worse at work at the moment."

"Yes, and I need to get over it. I have a talk that I need to be able to get through."

"Okay, Neville, and what do you think would be the minimum number of letters that would make you panic?"

"Um. Maybe twelve? Something like that."

"I understand. So what I'm going to do now is give you an idea of what we could do. You'll be in control here, and if you agree to that, then we can get the sessions set."

Neville nodded, wanting to look up but instead opting to stare at his shoes in shame.

"I think exposure therapy will be best for you. We'll work through your fear together. I won't lie and say it's easy, but it can be done. Do I have your consent?"

Neville nodded, finally looking up at Beatrice. "Yes."

Neville sat in the chair, his body trembling as he felt his breathing stutter.

"Okay, Neville, we're nearly there. You're so close to this final word on our list. Remember to just ride the wave of that anxiety; it will rise and rise, but it can't keep rising. It will go down by itself, and we just need to ride the wave together."

Neville stuttered, "Yes."

"Whenever you're ready, Neville. The word is in front of you. I know you've looked at it already, but we are going to say it together. Ready?"

"Photo-" His breath hitched as he stopped abruptly, his panic spiking.

"Just breathe and keep riding that wave. We're increasing, but you know it will go down. We just need to say that word."

"Photophos-" His hands shook and he snapped his mouth shut, his jaw clenching.

"Nearly there, I'm right here with you."

"Photophosphorylation."

Neville could still feel the anxiety and the panic; he felt sick to his stomach, a feeling that permeated every inch of his being, but he had said it. He had said the word he had been dreading since the very start.

"Great job, do you think you could say it again?"

"Photophosphorylation." It came out slightly easier that time, still a choking feeling as he said it and a sense of impending doom, but it had been said and he had made it.

"Now we're just going to ride out the rest of this wave. Worst part's over now, so we just need to keep on breathing in for four, hold for seven, then breathe out for eight."

Neville kept on breathing, feeling the way his heartbeat was now starting to slow down and his hands were starting to feel more solid to him.

"How do you feel now?"

He took stock of himself before answering. "Shaky, but I'm happy I got to do this."

"It was all you, Neville, I hope that you're proud of this. And I hope your presentation goes amazingly."

"-and that concludes this presentation on the development and crossbreeding of rhododendrons and the ever-changing effects that photophosphorylation can have on the potential growth of them. Thank you for listening."

Neville felt as if the whole world was cheering and rejoicing around him. He had made it through the whole presentation without collapsing into a nervous bundle of fears and tears.

And even better in a moment of serendipity, he'd had an old colleague in the area pop in to hear his talk and he'd now been offered a research grant to continue to do what he loved.

He was so happy he'd finally taken the step to get help; now he was happier and Beatrice was going to help with all his other fears as well.

His life was finally going in the perfect direction.