CHAPTER 18:

GROUP THERAPY

After all the drama of Psycho leaving Harley's crew, to say nothing of helping Harley with the worst of her issues, there wasn't much more to do for the day. Hermione and Sy came over to finalise the purchase of the derelict mall, contingent on Harley wanting it. And lo and behold, she loved it, viewing it as a blank canvas. Indeed, everyone in Harley's crew loved it. Hermione would cast the Fidelius on it to ensure that Psycho couldn't betray its whereabouts, and after some thought, Pamela was made the Secret Keeper by Harley.

Sy actually had an unusual request: he wanted to participate in the heists. He'd gotten bored in his dotage, and seeing their antics got him intrigued, shaking him out of his indolence. In exchange for a discount, he got his wish.

Despite that elation, Harley was also distraught. She had lost a member of her crew, and she found herself questioning her leadership abilities. Despite Pamela, Harry, Clayface and Nanaue trying to reassure her, she lacked some of her usual enthusiasm.

She needed Harry and Pamela's company in bed that night. This time, instead of Pamela being the filling in the human sandwich they made, it was Harley. She needed the presence of the others surrounding her, like a child snuggling between their parents when in need of comfort. She didn't cry herself to sleep, but she was still in a fairly bad way.

Still, for the three of them to wake up in their mental landscapes was something of a surprise…

Harry blinked as he opened his eyes to see the familiar look of the museum of memories from Harley's mind. Only, something was off about it. It took him a moment to realise why.

The paintings and exhibits were wrong. In fact, they were of his life, not Harley's. Though when he looked further down the corridor, he saw, past an intersection with a plinth in the middle, more familiar portraits from the sojourn earlier in the day. The intersection was threeway, and down the other path, he saw portraits that, he assumed, had something to do with Pamela.

He wandered towards the plinth, which had a big red button marked with a sign saying 'PRESS ME'. Naturally, he avoided such an obvious trap. Instead, he called out, "Hello? Pamela? Harley?"

"Harry, is that you?" Pamela, still in her pyjamas (Harry realising belatedly that he was too), called out, before coming jogging down her part of the intersection. "…Harry, what the hell happened? Why are we…here?"

Harley came up from her corridor. "Beats me, Ive. I thought we got finished with that shit earlier today. So what's going on?"

"I think our minds have been joined together," Harry said. "But how?"

"You know what? I think the answer is in that button right there," Harley said, before skipping forward and slamming her hand down on it before either of them could stop her.

There was no explosion. No wailing siren. If anything, what happened was somewhat anticlimactic. Nothing seemed to happen at first, before there was a brief clearing of someone's throat that had Harry having flashbacks to his fifth year, and Umbridge.

They whirled to find Luna, albeit Luna outlined in blue light, and transparent. "I am a ghooost! Woooo!" she exclaimed, but nobody really reacted with anything but bemusement, and that was mostly Luna's appearance more than her antics.

"Okay, so, this is more of a recording. I could have gone with the whole 'Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope' quote, but everyone quotes Star Wars these days. Anyway, I'm sure the three of you are in something of a tizzy right now, wondering what's going on. The short version is, I set things up so that your mindscapes are shared. This only happens when the three of you are in a sleeping state, it doesn't affect your physical or mental health…I hope. I mean, anymore than it already is, 100% sanity is highly overrated. Anyway, I set this up while we were on our sojourn into Harley's mind. I'd actually been working on this for some time, ever since Pamela saved Harry, as I had a notion they would end up together."

Harry, Harley, and Pamela shared a bemused look. "What's she going on about?" Harley asked.

"Beats me. The only person who truly understands Luna Lovegood is…well, Luna Lovegood. Maybe," Harry added uncertainly.

"I'm not quite a seer, Harry. I'm not that blessed or cursed, depending on your viewpoint," Luna said. "I do have a sight of sorts, the ability to see things that are really there, but others can't. Not all of what I spout is overly imaginative metaphor for bullies and thieves. I saw the link between you and Pamela, one of destiny. It didn't mean you were destined to become lovers, only that your lives would end up together, maybe as friends or comrades. Pamela also had the link with Harley, and in time, you gained that link too. And then, I realised something. The three of you were meant to be together. You complement each other well."

"Uhh, what?" Pamela asked.

"In a way, you are the classic Freudian trio. Yes, I know you prefer Jungian psychology, Harley, but you have to admit the superego, ego and id theory is one of Freud's better ones. And I'm sure that you know that, in your group, you're most definitely the id. You're intelligent, true, but you're impulsive and hedonistic, acting as an agent of chaos in a way your former beau can never comprehend. Pamela is the superego, the cool pragmatist who considers her actions carefully. Harry is the ego, the mediator between you two."

Once more, Harry, Harley and Pamela shared a confused look, albeit a more thoughtful one than before. "Actually, that makes sense," Harley mused.

"I've done this because…well, I think you make a cute trio," Luna said. "And it would save more than a little awkwardness down the line. All three of you deserve some more happiness in your lives, and some more insanity. Besides…Harry already did much for me. He was one of the first friends I had at Hogwarts. Actually, he was the first, after Ginny died and turned into Voldemort. I know the three of you have been burned by bad relationships before…but I think this one will work out. Oh, and just so you know, you can actually alter the flow of time in this mindscape to a certain extent. A good night's sleep can last for days in here, weeks even, if you want. Anyway, to trigger this mindscape joining again, just press the red button. It's a bit like joining an online gaming session, it's done automatically once the parties give consent. The button is also used to disconnect when you're done."

"Okay, so, I think we need an instruction manual for more than that," Pamela muttered.

"Beyond the big red button, I've designed an easy-to-use interface, and as an added bonus, the overlay of your minds like this acts as an ad hoc Legilimency shield. And you don't have to worry about triggering any brain lockdowns now, I've installed patches for that. I've also left documentation if you want to be boring. Anyway, I've spoken my piece, so toodles!"

She vanished, and Pamela and Harley looked at Harry. "Look, Luna is…Luna. She does what she likes, and to hell with the consequences. If you want to disconnect…"

"No!" Harley and Pamela chorused almost simultaneously, to their shock, and to Harry's.

"Look," Pamela said. "Luna took one hell of a liberty doing this, but…is this such a bad thing? I'll admit, there's quite a bit in my mind I'm more than a little hesitant to show other people, and yet…you two, I think I can. I've already let Harry in, and…I've been meaning to with you, Harley, but…we've already seen the worst of you earlier today. I…I think it's only fair that you get to see me, at least."

"And what about Harry?"

"I've told you much about my life, Harley, but if you want to see it, I've got nothing really to hide," Harry said.

Harley, after a moment, shook her head. "Later. Let's go see what Ive's got here."

Their first stop was one of Pamela's earliest memories, of a birthday where no kids came, and her father taunted her over her lack of friends. Harley's fist clenched. "…I knew your old man was a bastard, but…what happened to him?"

"I happened to him. To both of my parents. It was after my first stint in Arkham. I'd gotten a letter from them, saying I had been fully disowned. In fact, they never intended for me to get my inheritance in the first place. Oh, sure, they paid for my education, but they were going to cut me off regardless, and use up the money to buy up Central Park and make it into a massive mausoleum, just to spite me. I took exception to that."

"…So they're dead?" Harley asked. "That wasn't in the file I was given."

"That's because they aren't. You ever heard of voodoo zombies? Not the ones that are rotting flesh, but basically brainwashed slaves that are claimed to be walking corpses? Supposedly, voodoo priests can use a drug cocktail to fake a person's death, and use the mental state it causes to mentally enthral their victims. I basically did the first half of that: I used a particular chemical cocktail to induce a form of locked-in syndrome to both of them. They're alive, they're aware, but they're trapped in hospital. Only I can administer an antidote, and I don't ever intend to."

"…Yikes, Pamela," Harley said. "That is…fucked up. I mean, I remember from our sessions how bad your relationship with your parents were, but…"

"Oh, believe me, they deserved it," Pamela said. "My parents made their fortune from real estate, amongst other things, and in a very predatory way. You know how many parks they bulldozed over, how many tenants they evicted from buildings they demolished, all to make money for themselves? It's considered good business, and yet, with humans alone, they're responsible for more deaths from suicide or domestic violence from their actions than I ever would. And they had fucking scrapbooks of that shit. They got off on it! Even the Dursleys, for all what they did to Harry, weren't that fucked up."

Harry was looking at his lover in horror. He'd heard hints of how much she hated her parents, but he'd never heard this. He and Harley gently hugged Pamela. "Are you okay, Pamela?" he asked.

"…No. I'm not. I haven't been since I was born," she said quietly. "But…I'm better." She looked at them as they sat down on a bench. "…I guess there's something I should confess. Specifically to you, Harley."

"…Okay, now I'm worried," Harley said. "…What's wrong, Pamela?"

"Okay, so…in the wizarding world, apparently there's this creature, the Boggart, basically a boogeyman," Pamela said. "It turns itself into your greatest fear, and I'm grateful Jonathan Crane has never heard of it. Now, I have plenty of bad fears, the three of us do. But…if I ever met a Boggart, I'd be worried it would turn into you."

Harley stared at her. Then, she snapped, "What the actual fuck, Ivy?! What do you mean, I'm your worst fear?!"

"Harley…can you stop being indignant and just engage your psychiatric skills, please? I'm not saying this to hurt you. I'm saying this because I love you, and I need to air this, so it doesn't fuck us over later."

Harley blinked at the confession, before she nodded, her anger replaced by a hurt but pensive expression. "Okay, I just…it's a shocking thing to hear that your own best friend is afraid of you."

"It's not quite that simple. It's less about you and more about what you could do. It's allowing myself to count on someone, especially you, and them have them leave me by the wayside. I've held a bit of a torch for you ever since you helped me in Arkham, and yet…when you kept going back to the Joker…Harry came back to me at the right time, and even if he didn't have any faith in you, the fact that he wasn't a douchenozzle who stopped sending me letters rekindled some hope in me for you. It's thanks to him I'm even able to talk to you about this. If he hadn't…I dunno whether I would've been ever able to talk to you about this."

Harley, after a moment, stood, and began pacing a little in front of a painting, before she looked at it. It depicted Harley's first meeting with Pamela, when Harleen Quinzel had stopped Arkham guards, on Harvey Dent's orders, from burning her. She looked around at the memory paintings. A significant amount of them held Harley's image in some way or another, along with Harry.

With that, Harley shook her head. "…Fuck," she muttered. "I just…fuck…I am having a lot of trouble doing my psychiatry thing."

"Do you want any help?"

The three of them whirled to find a familiar figure walking up. Harry had only seen her in pictures, as well as the repressed memory of Harley's original origin, but he knew this was Harley as she was in the past, as Harleen Quinzel. Dressed in rather modest clothing, with a white doctor's coat. She looked so prim and proper, and yet, she actually still had a little of the madness that danced in Harley's eyes in her own.

"Whoa, I…did not expect this," Pamela said.

"Sorry, I'm guessing this is your past self, but…what is she? A split personality?" Harry asked.

"The correct term is dissociative identity, and that's not quite the right term for what I am," Harleen said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Otherwise, we would not be aware of each other to the degree we are. Honestly, both of us have considered stuff like dual consciousness, some sort of weird variant on a schizophrenic hallucination…honestly, I think I'm closer to a tulpa derived from Harley's past within her mind. A bit like the antibodies, but more autonomous and sentient. Or maybe the closest thing she has to a conscience when our grasp of morals is looser than the bowels of Scarecrow's usual victims. There is nothing about me that can be found in the DSM-V, believe me."

"See, she says boring nerd stuff like that all the time," Harley said dismissively. "She's useful, though."

"And I'm also pleased with the progress you made earlier today, Harley," Harleen said. She walked over to Pamela, and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry to hear that from you, Pamela. I really am. But…I did some good for you, right?"

"Yeah," Pamela said, before looking at Harley. "Harry can do something called the Patronus Charm. It can be used to message people if you don't have email or a smartphone, and it can be used to repel Dementors. Of course, that's pretty tricky to do while surrounding by soul-eating embodiments of chronic depression, because they require a happy memory to trigger it. And do you know what one of the memories I would use to fuel it, if I could do magic? It would be that time when you gave me that cutting, knowing it was dangerous to let me near any living plant material, and that I could kill you."

"…Couldn't you have just led with that first?" Harley asked.

"People usually lead with bad news, not good news. Harley, my feelings for you are complicated, but aren't a lot of relationships? I just wanted to tell you about things before, well, we go any further. I mean, you let us in on some of your darkest secrets earlier today. I just wanted you to know what was at stake so you don't fuck this up. I don't want to fuck this up, and neither does Harry. He's helping me confront my feelings about you, good and bad, because he wants me to be happy, and he knows how much I care about you."

After a moment, Harley stood, and began walking back to the plinth. For a moment, they were afraid she was going to press the button and disconnect herself from the merger of their mental landscapes, but she was muttering, "Okay…controls…here. Okay, so, current rate, a day in here is equivalent to an hour outside. Sooo…here we go. Hopefully we won't need it, but let's make it a week for every hour outside."

"A week?" Harry asked.

Harley shrugged. "Hey, I'm guessing we don't need to pee or crap while we're these mental projections, or to eat or anything. Look, what Ive said was painful, but…now we've got time to work through that, right? And we're not exactly trapped in here. Wasn't it Jean-Paul Sartre who said that Hell was being trapped in a room with other people? So…why don't we call this a group therapy session, okay?"

Pamela and Harry looked at each other, before they decided, why not? Hopefully, it'd go well…

CHAPTER 18 ANNOTATIONS:

So, there you have it. Thanks to Luna, we're going to see Harry/Ivy/Harley in earnest. The first steps have been already been taken, but now, we'll be seeing more of it. And because Ivy's been more honest with herself and others from the start, things will be smoother sailing. Not wholly, but still…

Review-answering time! Serafina Fairway: Well, I do recommend the series. Apart from my own fic, DragnBoi65's Harley Quinn's Red Mark hews closer to the series, so you can get an idea of what the episodes are like, and there's always clips on Youtube. I do change a few episodes and character arcs for this fic.

Alias001: I've never watched Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss, so that's a no for now.

Kaiya Azure: I did look them up, and the Poseidon thing is a theory, but the Athena thing was the main version. I was certain I read about it being a tribute to Poseidon…

WhiteElfElder: Sadly, she's still Mrs Potter on paper.

MaverickCoyote9: In characterising her ambitions, I was partly inspired by Lord Mendasuit's crossover with Negima, namely Villainous Comeback, which has a Harry raised by Evangeline decide he wants to be a villain, even if he's pretty bad at it, as well as Jalter Lily from Fate/Grand Order. I wanted someone adorable, but with sort of villainous ambitions, albeit in an adorable and relatively harmless manner. This isn't to say Delphi isn't harmless, but rather, she's growing up to be the kind of overlord people would welcome.

Psycho appearing near Ginnymort is basically Sod's Law in action, fiction (and reality for that matter) needs nothing else. But choosing that humorous moment was very deliberate. Harley Quinn is about juxtaposing the darker realities of the DC universe with some of its more ridiculous implications, with a healthy dose of dark comedy. And I thought, what would be the one major flaw that Ginnymort didn't really take into account with her fiendish masterplan? It would be childbirth and parenthood. While she's a surprisingly decent parent, it doesn't necessarily follow that she enjoys parenthood. She only keeps them with her instead of killing them or adopting them out because they're her meal ticket.

Skull Flame: Jessica's fate is never elaborated upon in the series. It is implied that Harley killed her, but it's never stated outright, so I softened matters to ensure Harley didn't either kill her, or had her being raped by a horse (which would be a fitting, if disproportionate, revenge, considering Jessica Sarner claimed Harley lost her virginity to a horse). Instead, I basically had Harley take a cruel revenge that nonetheless toed the line of the moral event horizon. As for Frankie Muniz, he actually appears in the transmitted episode to help Harley and company get away from the antibodies, and he's actually voiced by Muniz himself.

WearyCurmudgeon: Yeah, but David Tennant's look also looks a bit like a DC character, namely John Constantine. Harry also wears a wide-brimmed hat to complete the look. Dunno about the Creeper or Duela Dent appearing, though the Court of Owls might be making an appearance in the third season, if the animatics shown at the DC Fandome are any indication.

No numbered annotations this time.