Author's Note: I finished this late, so my lovely beta has not had a chance to proof it. I claim all my mistakes, but please remember this is something I do in my free time. Thanks for reading and reviewing, MNF

Chapter 15:

Celebrity

Thursday 7 September 1995

"You're very quiet today, Harry," Dr Phillip said as he and Harry were nearly a quarter of the way into walking their usual route. "You're the one who requested the appointment."

"I know," Harry replied. "I'm still trying to order my thoughts on everything."

"Just start talking, Harry. Nothing you will say to me is wrong or poorly worded." Phillip told him, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"So, I'm sure you read the press about what happened that night with Tom Riddle," Harry began. Phillip, and everyone else in the wizarding world, had read about what occurred in the graveyard. Most of it wasn't new information to Phillip, as Harry had confessed it all. "I have to go into the Wizengamot next week, and I know I'm going to be hounded by the press. Madame Bones thinks I should give a press conference so I can tell my own story, but it isn't anyone's business, is it?"

"Press is a double-edged sword," Phillip said slowly. "I agree, your private life is indeed your own business and who you tell about your feelings and the actions you took are yours alone. However, the loss of wands throughout most of Western Europe affects everyone. So they're going to want to hear about what happened."

"If I could shed some light on what happened, I would. But I was knocked out, and the wands disappeared, and the Death Eaters and Voldemort died during that. I woke up, and it was all over. I don't know why I still have my wand when so many don't, but that's not common knowledge." It seemed to Phillip it wasn't taking much to get Harry talking today. This wasn't what he was upset about, but they'd get there in the end; Harry just needed to stay talking.

"Honestly, I don't even know where mine is. Pater took it and put it in a safe somewhere in the house, and I haven't seen it since. We have a plan to get new ones in November. Pater wants me to get a new one, too, since I don't even know if I can do magic with the holly and phoenix feather one!" Harry was starting to yell at the end, and Phillip felt like they were beginning to come close to what was really bothering Harry. They'd reached their shady spot, and Phillip directed Harry to the bench under the branches of the Willow tree.

"Does anyone know about your wand besides your Pater and Remus?"

Harry sighed. "I told Hermione and Neville," Harry said quietly. "They're not going to tell anyone, I'm sure of that. They want to see me protected nearly as badly as I want it. Madame Bones and a friend of hers know too."

"Why not stay home from the Wizengamot session? There'll be another in October, and by then, some of the hype will have died down, perhaps."

"No, I need to present myself as the Scion of my line at the first session after my fifteenth birthday. There wasn't a meeting in August, so I need to go now." Harry said with resignation. "I don't want anyone attempting to usurp my Potter or Black seats. I don't see why people care all that much about my life," Harry added. "I'm just a normal bloke who is finally living a good life. If people knew the truth about me, they wouldn't want to be me."

"Because of your childhood?" Phillip asked, hoping they would finally touch on some of what Harry had hidden. He knew about the near starvation, the cot under the stairs, and the near brutal chores Harry had endured. He would be testifying against the Dursleys for what they had done to the boy. However, there was something else that was niggling at Harry deep inside, and Phillip had yet to find it.

"It isn't just that," Harry said. "I was made a pawn of two powerful wizards who cared nothing about who they destroyed in the process. With the exception of my birth parents, until Pater was in my life, along with Remus, I had no one who cared for me as plain Harry. I deserve that, I've always deserved that, and Dumbledore kept me from it, and I can't even yell at him for that!" Harry's face was red, and tears rimmed his eyes while his breathing became laboured. Phillip put an understanding hand on his shoulder and cast a discrete Silencing Charm around them.

"Go on, Harry, get it off your chest," Phillip urged.

"My life, since I was one, has been filled with people who used me for one reason or another. I was a slave to my aunt and uncle, a punching bag for Dudley and Uncle Vernon; kids at school teased me, and teachers looked at me with pity but never seemed to do more than slip me more food at school.

"I went to Hogwarts and hoped it would be better, but my first year Dumbledore used me to lure Voldemort to the castle. Second-year I was the butt of the entire school's jokes at first and then their fear. My third year was a mess because Sirius realized that Peter Pettigrew, my parents' actual betrayer, was in the castle. Yes, the year was better because I met Remus, but still. I'm glad I finally met Sirius, and I knew in my bones he would take care of me, but the dumb Ministry kept him from me.

"Then there was the mess last year, and Dumbledore and Tom, and they put me in the crosshairs. I'm glad the Dark Wanker is gone but look at the paid price! I doubt anyone would have believed me if it wasn't for the wands disappearing. Now the wizarding world wants to hoist me on their shoulders and proclaim me their saviour, but no one did anything to save me when I needed it."

Once Harry had it all out, he hunched forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands cradling the sides of his head. Phillip stayed there, one hand on his shoulder. There were several moments of silence.

"My whole life people have told me I was nothing, a freak, the child of a drunk who killed himself and my mother, a loser, a piece of filth, a second class wizard, a liar, evil, the descendant of Slytherin, pitiful, arrogant, a cheat, the child of a Mudblood, and I'm sure there's more, but I can't think of them right now," Harry said quietly with an exhausted sadness that crushed Phillip's heart. "I was so unused to hearing someone tell me they loved me that I cried the first few times Pater said it to me." Phillip had suspected emotional abuse in Harry's life; he carried the classical signs of being emotionally abused. Harry lacked self-confidence when he should have been full of it. He had trouble controlling his emotions when they became even moderately strong, and he was far too adult-like, even in childish situations.

"Harry, none of those things are true about you. You are a bright young man who has compassion and understanding in spades. You're a quick thinker, and you explain concepts in concise ways. You care deeply for others, and you're now surrounding yourself with people who are honest in their desire to be around you. If I could take all those memories from you, I gladly would, but it can't be done. Occlumency will help some, and as I said, we will begin working on it when I think you're ready."

"Professor Dumbledore mentioned it to me, but he said it was for keeping other witches and wizards out of your head," Harry said, still staring intently at the grass.

"That is one use," Phillip explained. "But it's also useful as a way to pack up memories we don't want to think about. I think it would be a useful place for you to lock up the memories of the Dursleys and some of what was said while you were at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, that would be good. Maybe I could lock Professor Snape; oh wait, he's gone. I'll just pack up his memories." Harry sat up at this with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, well, Severus Snape was a deplorable example of a professor and a human being," Phillip said, which made Harry smile a bit.

"Well then," Harry said softly, which made both of them laugh and gave Harry the chance to wipe his eyes with the bottom of his shirt and run his hands through his hair while gaining control of his emotions.

"Harry, have you ever thought about using the press to your advantage? I'm sure your Pater would have some ideas about how to do it; he's been playing quite the press game since his return and the expungement of his charges. Of course, you have the platform right now, and one of the things you can ask for is your privacy; but what else would you like to see the wizarding world change about itself? If you could urge people to make different choices, what would they be?"

Harry paused for a moment and then sighed. "We have to do a better job integrating those who are Muggleborn or even half-blood if they grew up in a more Muggle home. I think we should stop using the world Muggle, too; it's pejorative. There are people with magic and people without. I know people in both worlds, and they aren't that much different. They should be called something like non-magical or no-mag like in America."

"Well, that would certainly be something you could propose and support. You're right; of course, Muggle is pejorative, and we do need to do more to help those entering the magical world and their families feel more welcome and help assimilate them. Would you end it there?" Phillip asked.

"No, I'd make sure those who are from magical families learned about the non-magical world too. The Muggle Studies class at Hogwarts is so outdated that Hermione thinks it might have been written a century ago. Wizarding folks don't know that the world has moved on from quills and ink pens. Parchment is gross and expensive; paper is cheaper and can be more sustainably created. There is television, aeroplanes, space travel, fast food. Sirius told me about making a fool of himself the first time he was on a bus other than the Knight Bus, and he was clueless about how to change buses or use the tube. There is so much each world could bring the other, but we need to learn to trust."

"Harry, I know you want to keep the life you're building to yourself, and I think you should, but you are so much more than the average fifteen-year-old. You are more adult-like than many men twice your age. In some ways, I wish you weren't, but fate threw some curveballs into your life, and you matured quickly to survive. I want to help you continue to figure out what that means, and we will. Still, you're in an interesting place, and I want you to consider the implications of accepting what the wizarding world is offering you and using it to its fullest potential."

"You mean if they're going to give me fame, then I am going to give them lots to think about and put my clout behind my convictions?" Harry said after a moment's thought.

"Clear, concise and precise," Phillip said with a smile. "That's exactly what I mean. I do believe if you sit down with your Pater, Remus, and Neville, you can come up with two or three ideas you feel strongly about and then figure out how to make them a reality."

"It would be a good way to get the press to leave me alone," Harry said. "Can you imagine if every time they try to find out about my life, I give them a fact about how lopsided the advancements are in the non-magical world compared to the magical one? Then, they'll stop asking me questions after a short while."

"I think you're right," Phillip said. "Then you can figure out what happens next for you with a bit more room to breathe." He looked at his watch. "We should be headed back; your time is almost up."

"Thanks, Dr Phillip, I appreciate it," Harry said.

"So, last time we were talking about girls. Did you invite Ginny to move in?"

"No, but she is taking two classes with us. It's all her parents would allow her to without them paying. I tried to explain that neither Hermione nor Hannah's family was paying anything, but the Weasleys are very sensitive when it comes to money. I'm glad she's not living with us; I can tell she still has a crush on me."

"Are you going to be able to deal with that?"

"I'm planning on just ignoring it."

"So, any of the other girls turning your eye?" Phillip asked, and Harry groaned.

"Please, not you too," Harry said with a groan. "Sirius is constantly asking me about Susan, Hannah, and Hermione. Neville likes Hannah, and I think she's beginning to like him back, so I am not going near her. So that leaves Hermione and Susan, and while one of them does interest me, but I am not ready for a girlfriend. Maybe someday.

"Now, if you want to talk about romantic tension, something is going on between Remus and Maia, and I don't think it's new. Then there is the whatever happened in the past and might still be happening between Pater and Madame Bones. His bed is sometimes already made when I meet him for early breakfast, which begs the question, what bed is he sleeping in?" Phillip laughed at Harry's eyebrow antics as he spoke and was happy to see a fifteen-year-old boy amid a young man who defeated Voldemort.

ITWAU ITWAU

Unlike Harry's acceptance of the situation and his work to come to terms with the changes around him, Draco Malfoy was livid at the place he found himself in. Draco was sure his father was dead the first night he was home from Hogwarts, but what he hadn't prepared himself for was how Lucius' death would affect so many more things than his mother being a widow. Firstly, there was no electricity in Malfoy Manor. What made it the perfect place for the Malfoys to call home made it an awful place to live without magic.

Once upon a time, the manor had human servants who saw to the gardens, kitchens, stables and did the hunting and slaughtering for those living inside the walls of the great house. When the title and lands passed from Muggle hands to magical ones, most humans were let go and replaced with house-elves. With Draco's father accidentally freeing Dobby at the end of Draco's second year and then his mother's elf dying from grief over the master's demise, no one could help the young master and his mother. It didn't truly matter as none of the exterior buildings nor anything beyond the kitchen was cared for on the lowest level.

To make things much worse, they were miles from anything and without the ability to Disapparate, they couldn't make it to stores. Even Flooring wasn't an option, as Lucius had disconnected his home from the Floo network so that Aurors wouldn't be able to surprise him like they had one day in January. The only way to leave Malfoy Manor, its gardens, fields and parks were to walk out. Narcissa had gone into town to purchase goods, all four miles. Once she was there, she realized she only had wizarding gold.

Out of utter desperation, she had owled her husband's cousin, Ophelia Travers, and begged for her help. Ophelia responded, four days later, saying that if they took the Knight Bus to London, the two of them would be welcomed to stay in their building. The Greengrass's were well-known herbologists and owned a successful chain of stores and greenhouses. Severus Snape had preferred their product above all others.

That was how Draco found himself pacing the concrete floor of the somewhat run-down floors of the hybrid building Daphne's father owned. The plants were currently being kept alive via electric lighting on the bottom three floors while the Malfoy and Greengrass families shared the fourth floor. Narcissa had gone to Diagon Alley with Ophelia to see about purchasing some food, which left the three teens on their own.

"I can't believe they're heralding Potter for killing the Dark Lord," Draco seethed. "He murdered my father. I'm going to kill him."

"That isn't what the article says, Draco," Astoria said sweetly. While Draco had no problem yelling at Daphne, he never raised his voice at Astoria. Daphne used this fact to stay away from the boy. Tracey Davis and her parents were also living in the building, and it gave her something to do while avoiding Draco. The pair had decided to buy a copy of three of their fifth-year texts to study independently.

"It says that Harry was passed out, and whatever happened to that awful man and your father is beyond his knowledge. You shouldn't be so angry; it's not good for your digestion," Astoria said. So instead, she'd taken to reading cast-off Muggle periodicals that she found behind the nearby buildings.

"He was there; it was his fault!" Draco fumed.

"Our family has always stayed neutral, Draco, so I'm not sure that my opinion really counts, but don't you think that your father brought this upon himself by taking the Dark Mark in the first place?" Astoria had said it so calmly and kindly that Draco wasn't sure what to say to her, so he just threw himself into the decrepit sofa and picked up the three-day-old paper and read another article.

"He can't!" Draco yelled out.

"Who can't?" the girl asked, after taking a quiz about What Kind of Boy is Right for You. She somehow doubted any category the angry, brooding, explosive boy who was sitting across from her fit into. The heart wants what the heart wants, she surmised.

"Sirius Black, he's taken over the mantle of the Black family. He named Harry Potter his heir, including his seat in the Wizengamot. That was supposed to be my seat!" Draco crumpled the paper and threw it across the room.

"Well, you're the Malfoy heir," Astoria said. "Why aren't you taking that seat?" Draco thought about it for a moment, and he rose and lifted the girl into a hug.

"You're brilliant, Astoria, just brilliant!"

Daphne and Tracey watched the scene, having to hold themselves back from vomiting and decided they wouldn't say anything about the seats, even the seats held by old families weren't going to the heirs. Tracey's dad had heard about it from Madame Bones' assistant and was hoping that the Davis family would finally have a chance at being seated. If not as a long-standing family of Magical Britain, then by-election.