AN: Sorry for the very long wait! Things have been pretty... unpleasant. Thank you all for your patience and interest, I was blown away by the response from this story! Every review, every favorite, every follow, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This is unbeta'd because just as I was afraid to start posting again for you lovely people, I haven't gathered the courage to talk to my former beta yet. Thanks to the killer thunderstorm that is rocking my world I'm gathering those shreds of courage.

Please know that I welcome all reviews, positive and negative. If I missed something or made the typical errors, please let me know!

Interlude

Harry stomped the up the last few stairs of the office building. His face was as set as ever but his fists clenched. He did not want to be there, but the Japanese Ministry had insisted. He was going to see his therapist.

The lovely lady at the front desk smiled at him in professional recognition. "Ah Nakamura-san. Go right in."

He nodded mutely and walked into the office. The warm beige of the walls was supposed to be comforting as were the peaceful paintings of landscapes on the walls. The desk was always cluttered but held a few gifts from the woman's daughter. It was a comfortable space, a safe space, and he hated it. He threw his schoolbag onto the worn couch before dropping onto the plush surface himself.

"How is school?" The plump middle aged woman asked the usually innocuous question.

"Fine." Harry snapped

"I can help you only if you cooperate, you know that." The magical therapist said with calm steel in her voice.

Harry scratched at his hair grumpily his fingers getting tangled in his wild hair. "I'm frustrated and I feel… vulnerable." Harry growled "I doubt I know enough to stay alive should someone come after me. I haven't even begun to really train on a physical weapon! Every time my sensei lets me try one, she takes it away muttering something about having the wrong temperament. 'So much Water, young one.' She mutters."

The therapist smiled, the boy clearly didn't realize the significance of that statement "I will tell you this about the godi: Water, Sui, adapts like plants do. Adapting, changing, bending towards the light."

Harry stared at her for a moment surprised and feeling something deep in his chest coming closer to the surface.

"The element your sensei speaks of is often associated with flexibility, suppleness and magnetism-"

Closer

"-Emotion, defensiveness, adaptability."

So close he could taste it…

"-Does any of this sound familiar?"

The truth tasted as bitter as the heart of a mourning widow. As salty as her tears. Or are those tears mine? Harry wondered. As if in answer to his question he felt a teardrop land on the back of his clenched fist. "I am trying so hard sensei." He choked out, his voice thick. "I don't know which way is up to even begin adapting."

"What is it that you think makes you feel so lost?"

Harry scrubbed at his tears angrily. He couldn't meet her eyes instead glaring at the soothing beige fabric of the couch he sat on "Everything is going so… well… in some ways. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everyone to realize what a fuck up I am."

"What have you 'fucked up'?" The therapist asked unruffled by the vulgar language

Harry stared at her and then yelled at her "I let Cedric die!" He stood up and began to pace and swear

While he was occupied the therapist jotted down a quick note. Emotions closer to surface, temper more volatile, both expressed. What changed?

As the stream of curses slowed the therapist spoke again "From my understanding of your file, you didn't 'let' anything happen. Was it really something under your control?"

"He wouldn't have been in that graveyard except for me." Harry growled before what he said really hit him. He gasped and held his stomach as if someone had just tried to gut him. He collapsed to the floor and tried to breathe. Tried to hold back the tears. Can't break, can't show weakness. He'd learned that lesson early in life and every event since had supported the conclusion. So he did his damndest to keep the tears back while with someone.

He couldn't.

On the floor of the pleasantly decorated office, Harry wept bitterly. It wasn't a revelation, but it was a breakthrough of sorts; Barring torture, Harry hadn't cried in front of someone since Cedric died.