Author's Note: Yes, I have received requests from Mr. Crawford ...
I'd like to thank the following for their assistance with this chapter: Jim Trigg, nightelf, and Red Rider.
This chapter was updated 7/30/18
Chapter Five
Doctor Chalice reminded Ginny of an older Professor McGonagall, older as in older than Dumbledore. It wasn't so much wrinkles, or anything like that. She had stark white hair and silver glasses, but was obviously quite fit, even accounting for the cane which was more evident in its disuse than use. She wore a deep gray jacket with a green tartan scarf around her neck that matched her skirt. Somewhat incongruent was the pair of white sneakers, the ones with the swish logo that Professor Snape had dismissed as overpriced.
Ginny had been directed to lay back on the long couch with a carved swan on the back. Since Ginny preferred going barefoot in the summer, she'd readily agreed to kick off her sandals. Doctor Chalice had provided her a cup of tea, which Ginny had flavored with honey and a lot of cream. Some soft music was already playing in the background. It only took a minute or so for Ginny to identify it as Fingal's Cave.
"Now Ginny, my job is to help you recover from being possessed," the Doctor said. "There are many things we will do to help. Sometimes we will just talk. It might be about the possession, it might be about something seemingly unrelated. Sometimes we will do exercises to help build your mind up to resist future attempts at possession. Today we will start with one of those exercises.
"Many times this art has been taught by trying to clear your mind. It is not the best way, not when your mind has already been attacked. Instead, I want you to listen closely to the music, to put your mind to the tune.
"Think of a sea coast, with high cliffs, stretching up like celery stalks from the sea to land. Imagine the water swelling, rising and falling against the walls. Imagine it washing in and out of a cave, water flowing under archway, inside. The cool sea water and going in and out, faster now, swirling around the pillars embedded in the coast. Imagine the sea spray, arcing up above stones at the foot of the cliff.
"Smell the sea air in your mind, the salt spray, the cool breeze. Watch the water coast in and out, swirling as it finds the cave, then pouring out of it. Keep the picture of the coast in your mind. Imagine the waves breaking on the stone, the hard stone turning water to spray. Imagine the water receding, leaving a beach to walk on. Feel the sand and water as you walk along the coast. Rush into the waves, and feel the water lap against your legs. Run through it, feeling the joy of freedom.
"Now take another deep breath of that sea air, and open your eyes."
Ginny hadn't even realized that she had closed her eyes. In the moments before she'd been told to open them again, she'd actually believed she was running on the beach at the base of the cliff.
"You were there, weren't you?"
Ginny nodded.
"Now, I want you to remember that feeling. Bring it to mind when you need to. Use it to clear your mind when you wake from a nightmare. We'll be doing several of these over the next few weeks, until you can build that calm state anytime you need it.
"Now, though, we still have a quarter of an hour left in our allotted time. So, perhaps you can tell me about yourself."
With the music ending, there was silence in the room. Ginny wasn't sure how to start. Her mind was suddenly full of her worries, washed back in like the tide. "I'm stupid," the words tumbled out. "I let Tom in. He acted like he was my friend, when I was so lonely. None of my brothers had time for me, and the other girls in my dorm would hardly talk to me. I knew what Daddy had said, not to do it unless you knew where the brain was. I still wrote to him. I still responded to his questions.
"I let him in. I told him about everything. I even told him everything about Harry ... how he defeated the dark lord the first time, and then again his first year. I told him the crush I had on him and every little detail I saw. I told Tom everything, and he nearly killed Harry!"
"So, he nearly killed Harry, not you," Doctor Chalice said.
"He wouldn't have been able to try, if it wasn't for the bloody diary," Ginny said, her voice rising. "If I hadn't written in that diary, he wouldn't have been bit by that basilisk. If I hadn't written in that diary, I wouldn't have let loose that basilisk. It was only a fluke that it petrified everyone instead of killing them. I nearly murdered so many people!"
"I see," Doctor Chalice said. "And it is all your fault, even though you were deliberately exposed to a class five artifact so evil that there are only three things known to be able to destroy it."
"Deliberately?" the word escaped Ginny's lips with surprise, and not just a little hope.
"Albus was fairly certain about that," Doctor Chalice replied. "He wouldn't say who was behind it, but one of the Dark Lord's school things finding its way into the family of the man behind the Muggle Protection Act ... it would be hard not to be deliberate."
With those words, Ginny felt her body suddenly go weak, as if everything that kept her upright suddenly turned to mush. She thought she should be angry at the idea that someone would deliberately target her, but at the moment it was as if all of her emotions had been drained out of her.
Harry sat on the steps in Doctor Chalice's entry way. Ginny was behind the closed parlor doors having her session with the psychologist. There was actually a chair next to the door, but that was the domain of Harry's temporary guardian. At the moment, Harry was fuming as he stared at Professor Snape. He was not happy about his current situation.
In his considered opinion, Professor Severus Snape was going to be the bane of Harry's existence this summer. Of course, that wasn't going to be the only problem. On his way over, dressed in a new button down shirt, pale blue, just like Ginny's polo, and a black pleated skirt that Snape had suggested, a boy had passed him and given a wolf whistle of appreciation of Harry's summertime form.
He'd hoped that the whistle was for Ginny, who had somehow managed to get to wear jeans, but the boy, who Harry figured had to be at least a fourth year, had followed up to his buddy with a line about there being two hot girls on this street now. Somehow the stares of the two boys after that made him feel vaguely unclean.
Since then, he'd been seated on this step, while Ginny talked, knowing his turn was next. He had nothing to do but think and stare at Professor Snape. There might be another person or two to blame for the fact that Harry was sitting on a step, in a skirt, wearing a poorly adjusted bra. To be perfectly honest, he had no problem with his hair becoming red, and longer. And getting away from the Dursleys was a good thing in his opinion. Being a girl, though ... he couldn't put words to his feelings on the matter. It was just ... ugh.
He hoped that he'd never have to see his Uncle Vernon again. If Snape hadn't lied to him, there was a good chance of that, depending on his Aunt Petunia.
The doors to the parlor slid open. Doctor Chalice emerged, placing her silver framed glasses in her white bun of hair. Her hand was on Ginny's shoulders as she led her out of the room. Harry could just see into the room with its full book cases, couch, and chair. "Now Ginny, remember what I told you."
Ginny looked exhausted to Harry, as if she'd been drained of the energy she'd had while they shopped that morning. She looked up and met Doctor Chalice's eyes briefly, and nodded.
"Russ, take Miss Ginny back to her room," the Doctor ordered. "Let her sleep, without any potions for now. If you hear her starting to have a nightmare, wake her up, and give her a quarter dose of dreamless, along with a teaspoon of Calming Draught."
"Quarter dose of normal, or of adjusted for her size?" Professor Snape asked.
"For her size," the Doctor ordered. "I assume you know the calculations, little 'Russ?"
"I am a Potions Master, Doctor," Professor Snape said, with an air of long suffering. "You will see Harry back to my residence?"
"Certainly. Harry, come on in."
The doors slid back closed behind Harry as he entered the parlor. It didn't seem to be much of a place. The front window wasn't that big, but it gave plenty of light to the room, even with the translucent curtain pulled across it. It was painted cream, mostly, with one wall being filled with a book case. There was a chaise lounge with a carved swan in its back, a side table, and a mismatched with everything else reclining chair done in what Harry identified as Black Watch tartan.
He took a seat on the chaise lounge, almost laying, his feet just hanging off the edge near the edge. Only memories from his time at the Dursleys' prevented him from putting his feet on the lounge. The sandals he was wearing shouldn't be on the furniture.
"Go ahead, take off your shoes, if it would make you more comfortable," the Doctor said, as she sat down.
"I haven't been comfortable in days," Harry mumbled as he undid the strap so he could slide off the sandals. Harry pushed back his hair as he resumed his position, his bare feet now feeling the soft fabric with his toes.
"You know, you look remarkably like one of 'Russ's old friends, Lily Evans," the Doctor said, in a soft clear voice that seemed to project a sense of comfort. "No one else I've seen had quite those green eyes and flaming red hair."
Harry looked up. With a surprisingly soft voice, which he almost didn't recognize as coming from himself, he replied, "she was my mother." The tension he'd felt since morning had started to ease.
"I shall have to share a few stories with her someday," the Doctor said. "Now, Albus tells me that you're under a lot of stress, and have issues with your life. Would you care to talk to me about them. You don't have to. If you'd like, we can just talk for the next hour about how I knew your mother."
Harry considered it for a moment. He really didn't know much about either of his parents, but he also knew that he wasn't there for that. Asking about his parents now, that would be avoiding things, and Harry was a Gryffindor. As Seamus had once said, "We don't retreat, Gryffindors charge!"
Harry looked down at her feet, past her breasts, trying to figure out where to start. She nearly changed her first comment to her current sex, as the sight of them caused her to mentally shift her pronouns to match her current state. No, that wasn't what bothered her most, really. It really wasn't anything that happened to her at Hogwarts, saving the school from a Dark Lord was not a constant in Harry's life. No, if there was one thing that was really where to start with the mess of her life, it had to be the Dursleys.
"Why don't Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon like me?" she began. "I know I was left on their doorstep with just a letter telling them to raise me, but I'm their nephew ... niece for the moment I guess. I'm family. Aren't you supposed to love your family? They don't love me. I'm just a beast of burden, shoved in the cupboard when I'm not needed. Nothing I do can ever please them. I got straight As in my first year of Primary, and not a word was said about it. Instead Uncle Vernon hit me and shoved me in the cupboard for upstaging Dudley.
"I cook almost every meal for my Aunt, cousin, and Uncle when I'm at home, but nothing is ever good enough. It's either too hot or too cold, too sweet or too salty. And most of the time I only get the barest of tastes of it. Sometimes Uncle Vernon even puts it in the trash rather than let me eat. Just once I'd like to actually get to bake something and get to eat some of it."
"What's your favorite to make?"
"I know it's considered more American, but I like apple pie. Especially when I get to do the lattice crust. It looks so juicy and good ... I know that Aunt Petunia likes it with Granny Smith apples, and I've learnt how to pick out the best ones."
"I shall make sure that Professor Snape lets you bake at least one apple pie this summer then. You'll have to tell me how it tastes."
"I'll bring you a piece."
"Now, Harry, I don't know all about your family, but from what I do know, it's not you causing them not to like you. You seem to be a good student, despite what he may tell you, Professor Snape believes that at the very least you're not part of the dunderheads he usually has to teach. You don't get into trouble often, and when you do, it's generally with the best of reasons. You turn your homework in on time, and keep your bed and trunk neat at school."
"Couldn't even try to be messy after living with Aunt Petunia," Harry said roughly. "It's a habit now."
"A very good habit to have, if Minerva's opinion of most of Gryffindor's organizational habits is true. Now, I won't say that everything your Aunt and Uncle have told you is wrong, after all even a stopped clock is right twice a day, but the next time you start thinking about what your aunt and uncle have said to you, do not take it to heart, take it with a grain of salt."
Harry huffed, with a puff of air rearranging her bangs. "I know they're full of it, sometimes, but is it bad that I just once would like one compliment from Aunt Petunia? Just once I'd like to hear that dinner was good, or a thank you for cleaning the shower. Just once I'd like to have Uncle Vernon say that I did a good job mowing the lawn, clipping the hedges, or washing the car, instead of him finding an imaginary flaw, hitting me, or locking me in the cupboard without dinner. Just once!"
She felt tears on her cheeks, as she found her body suddenly racked with sobs. A gentle arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she looked up to see the offer of a handkerchief to blow her nose. As she recovered from her sobbing spell, she found herself in the gentle hug of Doctor Chalice. It was the first time that she'd really been comforted while she cried that she could remember. She let her feelings drain into the comfort, somehow convinced to just let it go, and know that for once, someone cared.
"That feel better?" the Doctor asked, after a few minutes and the tears had stopped. Harry nodded. "We're almost done with our scheduled time today, so perhaps we should adjourn to my kitchen. I just so happen to have a dozen Granny Smith apples under a stasis spell there that you might take to bake a pie where you are staying."
Professor Severus Snape was looking in on a soundly sleeping Ginny Weasley when he heard the squeak of his front door opening to herald the arrival of his other summer charge. He really need to oil those hinges. The footsteps of said charge, sounded to be agitated. It didn't sound like Harry was coming upstairs, though.
Closing Ginny's door carefully, he headed downstairs. As he turned toward the kitchen off of the stairs, he saw that Harry had a bag and had opened the ice box. There was a clunk, as Harry put an apple into one of the bins in the bottom of the ice box. "If this is how you treat apples, no wonder you've had trouble preparing woozle eggs." Severus said.
Harry looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, before placing the rest of the apples into the bin in a much more controlled and eased manner.
"So, did you leave upset from Doctor Chalice's, or did something else happen?" Severus asked after all the apples were in the bin.
"When I was walking back, a guy came up, put his arm around me, and asked if I was new," Harry began. "I didn't reply, and tried to shrug him off, but he pulled me closer, and asked if I'd go out with him. I told him no, and asked him to let go. I had to twist out of his grasp."
Severus did not take Harry into his arms, he knew that would not be accepted by the girl. Instead, he stood and offered, "You shouldn't have had to do that. No means no, and that is not just a phrase for intimate encounters. I shall see that the boy is reminded of that. Describe the boy." He put a little bit of force behind the last sentence, hoping to trigger an automatic response. He was not disappointed.
"He was about six inches taller, brown hair in a bowl cut, wearing a black Queen t-shirt," Harry rattled off.
"Very good," Severus replied. "Ginny is currently resting. When she wakes up, I want you to talk to her about how to deal with unwanted male attention. If she requires prompting, ask what she did to Pucey on Miss Spinnet's behalf. It should be entertaining, to say the least."
"Wasn't he the Slytherin who ended up hung above the Head Table in the Great Hall with big lactating breasts, mooing?" Harry asked
"That would be him," Severus replied. "If you'll excuse me, I have a certain boy to play Batman to."
Severus summoned his cape as he headed back to his front door. From the description Harry had given, there was really only one boy that fit the description on Spinner's End. It had to be Jerome Crawford. That meant he had two stops, the first of which was readily apparent the moment he stepped out of his house.
On the corner were five teenage boys, of which Jerome was the oldest. Severus quickly identified the other four, Aiden Gallager, Spenser Mogan, Wesley Steele, and Liam Reid, the last being newer to Spinner's End than the others. They seemed to be gathered for the purpose of smoking, and if he was not mistaken, consuming beverages that they shouldn't be.
Severus carefully prepared his approach, making sure that they wouldn't detect him until he spoke up. At Hogwarts he was sometimes called the Dungeon Bat. Given the comics of his youth, he preferred simply, the Bat.
"A word, Mr. Crawford," Severus said, as he landed next to the boy, as he leaned up against the retaining wall at the exit of Spinner's End. Severus took great pleasure in the sudden shock that spread on the boy's face as he landed. "One of my charges reported that you made unwanted advances towards her."
"No, I no sir, Professor Snape," Crawford said, still trembling from Severus's appearance. "I didn't do anything to any of your charges."
"Do not call either of the girls I am hosting this summer liars," Severus said. "It seems you need a refresher on treating girls properly. Do I have to arrange another lesson?"
"No Professor Snape," Crawford said, his voice breaking.
"See that I don't," Severus said, swiftly turning and disappearing from their midst.
The boys were silent for a moment, long enough for Severus to reposition himself in the alcove of the door of number two.
"Why are you so scared of that man, Jerome?" Liam asked.
"You don't get on the bad side of Professor Snape, ever," Crawford said. "He knows things, and can make things happen. I heard that he once took care of a man who was harassing Widow Poole. They never heard from him again. He has this strange tattoo of a snake coming out of a skull, that when you see it just oozes evil. Trust me Liam, he warned us about his charges this summer. We do anything to those reds, and we'll never be able to do it again."
"Right," Liam said, disbelieving.
Severus decided he needed to watch that boy ... but perhaps it would be best to start with the boy's parents. He didn't need either of his charges to need to deal with sexual harassment on top of everything else.
Dudley Dursley slammed the door to Harry's Room behind him. It had once been known as his second bedroom, but he'd never call it that again, assuming Harry ever saw it again. Since Harry had left, the night before Dudley's father's death, without a word to Dudley, he had no idea if he'd return, ever.
Dudley had just fled his mother, who was wailing in the kitchen, at the moment. His mother had been trying to contract all of his father's relatives, to let them know of his father's death. So far, not a single call had been made. His mother wasn't ready to talk to anyone at the moment, not even Dudley. She'd thrown her personal address book at him.
Dudley had caught it, and fled.
He would have fled outside, but a crack of thunder, and the sounds of a sudden downpour had diverted him upstairs. The crack of thunder had been followed by another wail from his mother, sending him up the stairs at a rather impressive speed. Then a flash of lightning had illuminated the family portrait at the head of the stairs, oddly highlighting his father.
Dudley had darted into Harry's bedroom, unwilling to face another reminder of his father's death.
Panting, Dudley leaned against the back of the door, the book he caught still in his hands. As he waited for his breath to catch, he looked at the book. It was a deep green book, with the "L" in "L.E." modified into a P, with a "D" added afterwards. Dudley opened it to the front piece, discovering an inscription:
"To my sister Tunny, some places should not be forgotten. Lily."
He didn't expect such a thing in an address book. It was something usually expected of a really book, not this. Dudley started to page through the book. There was Dursley, Margarita in the Ds. He knew that number, but he hadn't known that her name was Margarita. He'd always heard her called Marge. In the Es was one for his late grandparents, but also for the family of Mark Evans. Not for the first time he wondered if they were related somehow. Several of his friends parents were listed with his friends' names in brackets. Then Dudley reached "P."
There was only one entry on the first page of Ps, nothing else on the front or back. It looked like the page had got a bit wet, and there was a piece of tape holding the bottom of the page in place. It read, "Potter, Lilly & James [Harry]" with an address of "Potter's Cottage, Godric's Hallow, Glos, GL16"
A picture was stuck on the back side. It looked like a rather standard school picture of a just entering her teens girl with bright red hair. Dudley thought it looked quite a bit like Harry had, after that Professor, what's his name, had transformed him with some sort of potion, save that the girl in the photo had straighter hair.
Suddenly the image of Harry, changed into a girl, trying to pull that dress over his head filled Dudley's mind. He saw Harry turning a bit towards him, allowing Dudley to see a naked girl for the first time in his life, before the dress slid down. The image caused an involuntary reaction that Dudley tried to put out of his mind. It wasn't right to react like that to your cousin, even if your cousin had jut been transformed into a hot girl.
Dudley laid down on the bed. The mattress was bad, but Dudley knew why it was. It was one he'd ruined, and Harry had been forced to use afterwards. With the new image of Harry in his mind, Dudley found himself admitting to himself that ever since he could remember, he'd treated Harry poorly.
He'd hunted him, he'd bullied him, he'd hurt Harry in so many ways. Now, he let himself think of how he treated Harry, letting the train of thought go, keeping thoughts of his late father out of his mind. Now as images of his mistreatment of his cousin passed through his mind, he didn't see the scrappy black haired boy but the image of a vulnerable naked young red headed girl.
Dudley found a tear going down his cheek as he realized what he had done. He'd beat and bullied the one member of the family his age. He had isolated his cousin who had not just lost his father, like Dudley, but his mother too.
Suddenly an image from his childhood was brought to mind. His cousin, peering out of the cupboard under the stairs, his bright green eyes reflecting the light in the darkness. There was a hopeful look in his cousin's face. Suddenly the harsh words of Dudley's father rang out, echoing in Dudley's memory, "Don't encourage the Freak"
"The Freak" that was what Dudley's father had always called Harry. Dudley saw his father pushing Harry back into the cupboard and slamming the door.
Dudley tried to blink away the tears. He knew he should be crying for his father. His father was dead less than a day now, but Dudley wasn't crying for his father. Dudley shook his head, trying to get the image of pain on his cousin's face, now surrounded with flaming red hair, out of his mind. He didn't want to think about his loss, and in avoiding it, he'd recalled one of his most shameful memories of his treatment of his cousin.
He looked down at the address book again. Somehow some pages had turned, and it was now on the S's, on a page with an address and another picture, turned to face the page, the cello-tape yellow with age on the outer edge. Dudley freed the picture from where it had been tucked into the binding edge, revealing a picture of a young boy with sallow straight black hair, parted in the center, wearing a old fashioned gray shirt.
Above the picture was an address and phone number:
Snape, Eileen & Tobias [Severus]
7 Spinner's End
Cokeworth
03069 990127
Dudley knew this had to be the man, the professor, who had taken Harry away.
He got up out of the bed and headed to his own room and the extension that had been installed for his computer. He knew his mother wouldn't be calling anyone yet, so he would do it in her stead, calling the one person that would have been forgotten, that the Dursleys had always tried to forget that existed.
It was only right that Harry Potter would be the first person that Dudley told that Vernon Dursley was dead.
