A/N: I do not own Harry Potter

Thanks for being so patient This is going to be the second to last chapter, there may be a sequel at a later date, mainly going into how Harry handles this new found difficulty within the Wizarding World. As this would no longer be about 'The Grudge' it will be a sequel, and that is if/when I do it.

I also want to apologise for being so slow, but with taking part in competitions and then running another, WIP's have suffered!

Chapter Six - Fix Me

Harry was sat in the living room. It was where his parents had guided him that morning after helping him to get washed and dressed. It was where he had his breakfast; his mother hovering over him, waiting to catch any spills. It was where he sat with a younger pretty witch. She was his therapist, talk therapy was something that his mother had insisted upon, and Harry had not been eager at first. He had the support of his father, but Harry refused to speak to them about how he felt, and so his mother had won.

The therapist, Adaline Feelgood, sat opposite, her parchment on her knee and a quill in her hand. Harry couldn't see the warm, caring expression, but he knew she was kind-hearted, her soft, gentle tone of voice, and her patient listening told him that. It seemed to be more than a job to her; she would stay long after she had to if Harry began to open up. Adaline brought him various games and activities that would help to occupy him, now that many other past-times were banned or he was simply unable to partake in them. She had introduced him to the Muggle invention; Braille.

"How have you found learning to read braille, Harry?" she asked in that light, warm tone.

"I'm getting better, but it's confusing still," he mumbled.

Harry seemed to mumble a lot lately. The once happy child had become withdrawn and sullen.

"I wonder if it would be a good idea to bring someone along next week?" she asked. Adaline always asked. His mother didn't — she told. His father didn't either — he ordered. "I just thought they would be better suited to answering any questions, giving tips."

"That would be nice." Harry's body language showed just how closed off he was this morning.

He sat on his feet in the corner of the couch, a blanket over his legs; this was something his mother did, as though he were infirm, rather than just blind. His face was constantly downturned, refusing to look up. Harry's standard argument with his parents had been 'what's the point, it's not like I can see you anyway!' The fact that looking up was respectful showed that he was engaged, and enabled people to hear his surly mumbles just a little more clearly was not something he was willing to see, not when he was in one of these moods anyway.

"You seem to be having a particularly hard morning, Harry. Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" she asked.

"You don't know?" he questioned sarcastically, finally looking up. "I'm as blind as a Ballycastle Bat!"

"You're blind!" she exclaimed. "But I thought you were just reading braille as a fun new challenge! Wow, this is news to me." Adaline smiled, letting out a light laugh that assured Harry she was not offended. It was a laugh that made him feel at ease. "I said you looked more upset than usual, aside from the fact that you are unable to see, what is wrong?"

Harry looked up, a slight frown on his face, the laugh and joke had not helped him relax all that much. His hands went to the blanket, fidgeting, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I'm sick of it," he said. "Everything sucks now, and it's all my fault!"

"I assume we are not talking about your sight; I think we can all agree that that was not your fault. Monty did something that he shouldn't have, intentions or not, this is his fault, not yours."

"Yeah, I get that, but I should have protected my eyes. It was so stupid. I was stupid!" Harry started pulling at a loose thread.

He was silent now, focused on trying to decimate the blanket, the blanket that represented just how helpless he was.

"From what I hear, you protected yourself very well; that potion could have killed you had you ingested any of it."

"Yeah…" he trailed off. "'Cause it's not like I have two arms, is it?"

"We've talked about this, and we've already established that you are in no way to blame. We have talked about the bullying, that it wasn't your fault and being different from Monty and his friends doesn't make it okay for them to treat you this way. Do you still understand that?" she asked kindly.

"Yeah, but it's more than that. If I had protected myself better, then things here wouldn't be the way that they are!" he whined.

"How are things here? It's okay. You know I will never repeat anything you say unless you give me permission, or I have to to keep you or others safe."

"My mum and dad don't argue. They've had disagreements before, but now they argue all the time. It's like I made them hate each other!" Harry finally broke into sobs as tears flooded from his milky eyes, rolling down the still burnt, reddened skin surrounding his eyes.

"What makes you think that this is your fault? Many married couples argue, even if their children are not used to seeing it."

"'Cause they argue about me!" he shouted. "They argue about what to do about poor, helpless me! They need to fix me, 'cause now I'm broken! I'm not the child that they want anymore; they want someone that can have a future, and I don't have one anymore. How can I? I can't do anything!"

"Is that what they said?" she asked calmly.

Somehow, Adaline always remained calm. She always listened, no matter how angry Harry got, no matter how upset he got; Adaline was a constant for him.

"They didn't have to," he mumbled.

"Harry, do you mind if I make an observation?" she asked with a smile, reaching over and taking his hand, slipping him a handkerchief.

Harry shrugged, and that usually meant that it was okay.

"I think you're still blaming yourself, and as such you are assuming others are placing the blame on you as well. I do not think that what you are saying is how they feel." Adaline squoze his hand before backing off back to her chair. "I can only comment on the way I have seen your parents myself, but they seem to care about you a great deal. They want to make things right for you, and maybe they disagree sometimes, and because their disagreements have higher stakes these days, they both fight /for/ you."

Harry sniffled. "They argue about Monty and the Potters. Dad wants him to be expelled, and Mum thinks that Professor Dumbledore had a point about making things okay with them. They argue about me going back to Hogwarts, and they argue about whether they should take me to more healers."

"That sounds to me that they are arguing about what they each think is best for you. Your father seems to want to protect you, but your mother seems to want to make things right, and that's probably so nothing like this can happen again. I think the healers are about trying to give you back what you have lost, we have talked at length about you believing you will never play Quidditch again."

"I won't play Quidditch again!" Harry bellowed.

"Possibly not, and coming to terms with that is important. However, closing the door completely and not looking for other possibilities will only encourage your feeling that there is nothing left for you to feel happy about," Adaline paused, watching how Harry started to relax. She took in his body language, assessing if her words were having an impact today. "I think both your parents would love you to go back to Hogwarts, but sometimes parents can be a little protective; maybe sometimes they take that a little too far because they worry?"

"You're telling me!" Harry laughed cynically. "My mum is terrible, she treats me like I can't do anything. She cuts up my food really small like I'm a baby! As long as I know where everything is, I'm fine! I'm nearly twelve, and my mum baths me! Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

"Do you need help with that?" she asked.

"When Mum isn't around, Dad will run the bath for me. If I need help to the bathroom, he helps, but he always asks. He leaves me to get changed and just helps me in and out. He jokes about it that all I need is a cracked skull on top of everything!"

"You like how your dad does things?" she asked.

"Somethings," he replied. "He seems to want to fix me, but he lets me do things on my own. He doesn't treat me like my life is over."

"He just has this incessant need to fix you?" Adaline asked.

"Yea! That's annoying."

"Annoying? Are you sure?"

"Maybe annoying isn't the right word, but it makes me feel like I'm not good enough anymore. I feel like Dad will only be happy once I am back to being the old Harry."

"I can see how you came to that conclusion, but I don't think it's the case," she began. "I think your dad is willing to do anything for you. He wants to look after you because he loves you unconditionally, just like your mother. Dads often feel responsible for their families, and so he will take on a lot of responsibility for this accident. Your dad may feel that it's his job to make sure you get what you want, and if you could get your sight back, would you want it?" she asked.

"Duh! Of course, I would!" Harry laughed.

"So, your dad is going to do everything in his power to get that for you, right?"

Harry nodded, acknowledging her statement.

"That would mean your father is doing what he is doing because he loves you deeply, right?" she asked.

Harry shrugged.

"Harry, I would like you to think about it and give a verbal response. We have talked about the importance of listening and verbalising when we get a new understanding."

"Yeah, I know. Dad still wants to fix me, though."

"He wants to give you something back; it's not a bad thing. I do think it would be good to speak to him about this. I can only tell you what I think as an observer, and that will only take you so far. We have discussed the importance of communicating with your family, haven't we?"

"Yeah, I presume you have something to say about mum, too?" he asked.

"Mums are protective, and your mum is probably going too far. She doesn't want you to get hurt because she loves you so much. Again, tell your mum how you feel. She probably wants you to feel safe and protected; sure that she won't let anything happen to you. Her tactics may change if you speak to her."

"But it's really hard, speaking about it with them," Harry mumbled again.

"Head up and speak up; it's polite, remember," she half scalded him.

Harry lifted his head, the light shining on his face highlighted the still burnt skin that glistened an angry pink colour.

"Now, when you are ready – because being ready is what is important for you – I can help you speak to your parents," Adaline offered, her warm, soothing voice was back.

"It's okay, I think I can do it myself. We used to talk all the time."

"I think you guys need to get back into the habit." She laughed lightly, setting the room at ease.

Somehow, it made Harry feel like small steps and taking his time was okay.

Throughout the rest of the meeting, they played some games that were designed to help Harry get used to seeing via touch. Adaline left him with the game were he sat finding the pairs of embossed cards. She left without speaking to Severus or Lily, as promised.

Severus found Harry playing with the cards, the blanket discarded. He still looked sullen, his jaw was tight.

"Harry," he called, announcing himself. It was an awkward habit that he had gotten into.

"Dad," Harry replied.

"I've been doing a little research," he began, his tone tentative, as though worried he would set Harry off at any moment.

The atmosphere in the house had been like that. It was a drastic change from what they were used to, a family that spoke about everything, that was incredibly close and could say anything to one another. Now Severus and Lily rowed over the best options for Harry, they rowed about Hogwarts, the Potters, potions, healers, and so much more. Harry's temper was held together by a thread, and it seemed to snap at the slightest hint of a conversation going any way that he didn't like. This wasn't the son they were used to, and their desire to make things right, their understanding of how hurt he was led to them walking on eggshells; they didn't challenge him the way they would have before.

"Okay." Harry dropped the cards that were in his hands, his lips thinned, and he turned to face his dad. "Something else that's going to fix me?" he asked.

"Help you, maybe." Severus pulled out a roll of parchment and fumbled with it nervously. "Harry, you know I just want to help you, right?" he asked.

"I want to be honest, but I don't want to get mad." Harry moved to sit back on the couch, facing his father.

"Okay," Severus replied uncertainly.

"Stop trying to fix me, please!" Tears started to well up again, but he wiped them away and continued. "It makes me feel like I'm not good enough anymore. I feel like you would rather have the 'Old Harry'. Please, just stop, okay?"

"Harry!" he exclaimed. "I don't want to fix you," he promised. "There isn't an 'Old Harry' and a 'New Harry'."

Harry raised his head, a single tear ran down his cheek, all his attention on what his dad was saying.

"I just want you to be able to do everything for yourself, I see how you look at your mother and me when we have to help you get in the bath, or help you down the stairs. I want you to be able to carry on as if this didn't happen. Can you understand that? Is that so wrong?"

"It did happen though," Harry said.

"This is what's bothering you?" Severus asked, urging, almost desperate for Harry to be more open, more honest with him.

"Not just that," Harry mumbled.

"You can tell me anything," Severus said eagerly.

"I'm angry! I'm angry all the time, and I'm angry at you, mum and me! I'm angry because it's all my fault, and I'm angry 'cause I'm the reason you and mum are fighting all the time. I'm angry 'cause you guys are fighting; 'cause you are always trying to look after me; trying to make things better. I'm angry 'cause it makes me feel like my whole life is over, and there's no point anymore!"

Harry shook with all the anger that he let out, frustrated, angry tears stood in his eyes, ready to fall at a moment's notice. His expression was not one to be pitied, it was fierce, furious, and determined to have something more than what he had now.

"Firstly, while I do respect how you feel and how difficult this is for you, you are wrong," Severus replied, his voice firmer than it had been of late. "This is not your fault, nor is your mother and I arguing. We argue because we have different opinions and honestly, Harry, giving in to your mother now has higher stakes. We didn't argue so much before because we were both willing to let it go, but we can't now. We can't because we want what is best for you."

Harry let out a deep breath, like a lot of his negative energy, his anger was able to pass. His fears could have been set aside now hearing this.

"I think your mother and I have failed to see how arguments might affect you; I'm sorry about that. Things are different, Harry, that's true, but we are the same people. We should be the same family that respects one another, and that extends to how we treat you. Do you want me to continue trying to find ways to help, or would you rather we left it for a while?"

"You can tell me this one last thing you found. You know, if you want to," Harry replied, a lot more at ease.

"We can leave it until your mum gets here," he suggested. "That way if you don't like it she can yell at me a little bit. You can just laugh it off now because I will not be letting arguments get to the point of upsetting." Severus was relaxed now, and Harry heard it, the atmosphere broke, and they both seemed to be on the same page for the first time in a while.

The door could be heard, and Lily rushed in. The feeling of tension and anxiety returned because Lily was still in 'fix' mode.

"Harry, are you hungry."

It was the first thing that came out of her mouth as she walked into the living room, and the second thing she did was pick up the blanket and lay it over Harry' lap. Harry's frown reappeared. His shoulders tensed up, and his fists were balled.

"Lily," Severus began.

"Harry, sweetheart, you need to eat!" she urged.

"Really? I didn't realise going blind meant that you had to eat more than the average person? Or have you been feeding me carrots because of some stupid old wives tale that says they help you see in the dark?" Harry blurted out. "Please, just leave me alone!"

Harry jumped up and threw the offending blanket across the room. He pushed past his mother and father and holding his hand out to the wall, made for the stairs.

"Harry!" Lily scalded. "Don't walk away when I'm speaking to you."

Harry continued to walk purposefully up the stairs, using touch to guide him.

"Lily," Severus reiterated. "I really think you should leave Harry be."

"Really? You think that his behaviour is above board? We did not raise him to behave like that, Severus. I will not stand for it!"

"You don't think we can have a touch of wiggle room considering the situation?" he asked. "Maybe some time for Harry to adjust? Or maybe even give him a bloody moment to calm down before talking things through with him? Maybe, just maybe, we will find out why our son is behaving like this?" he ranted. "Because, Lily, I think it is worth remembering that this is OUT OF CHARACTER!"

"Circumstances do not change how we behave, though I am not surprised that you see things differently!" she shot back at him. "I will be in the bedroom. Don't follow me, Severus, I would like some time alone!" she said it was a calmness that was troubling.

Calmly she walked upstairs, leaving Severus alone. The family was more disjointed than ever, Severus held the leaves of parchment that contained his research. A spell that might change everything for Harry. A solution that would help his family move forward, but there was no one that he could even give this slice of hope too. Severus felt utterly useless; a father should be able to bring the family back together, but he was failing.

Lily closed the bedroom door behind her, seething with anger. If she were honest with herself, she wasn't angry at her husband; he might even have a point. Things had changed so dramatically for them in such a short space of time, she felt completely off kilter. Lily and Severus were always on the same side in front of Harry; when they were behind closed doors, they discussed things. They made sure they were on the same team. Harry didn't act out like this either, they had a home where everyone respected everyone else.

Lily leaned against the door of her bedroom, so sure that Severus would try and follow her; he always did. He was one of those people that liked to fix things right away. There was no breathing space. For once, Lily missed her friend, Mary. She needed to speak to someone and complain about her husband, not something she had really wanted to do before, at least, not like this. She apparated away, and soon she was walking through the village of Godric's Hollow.