Author's Note: Several future parts of the story are introduced in this chapter. Thank you to everyone who has taken time to review. I'm finally back to answering them. MNF

Chapter 16:

Trapped Inside

July had come around and Harry was at Gringotts with his family – Sirius and Andi to be specific – to turn in his magical crystal. His magic had been bolstered by the spell the goblins had done and Harry removed the amulet with the crystal that had been collecting the bit of Voldemort and handed it to the goblin who was doing a spell.

"Well then, there is nothing left behind. Would you like the scar removed," the goblin in the robe with the deep hood asked Harry.

"Please," Harry said emphatically, causing Sirius and Andi to chuckle. He was excited about the prospect. His looks had changed when Sirius had blood adopted him and his hair was no longer a disaster. With the scar gone, people might not believe it was him at all. Harry and Sirius were enjoying going out into the Muggle world as well, for the singular reason that no one knew them.

"Did you capture anything in the crystal?" Harry asked after the quick scar removal was done.

"Good question, did we sister?" the goblin asked the one near something that resembled a microscope, if the glass pieces were replaced with different coloured jewels. Harry wondered how it worked and would have liked to gone over to investigate the spells the 'sister' was doing.

"We have. A very nice specimen," the 'sister' replied. She had a distinctly unfeminine voice, at least to his wizard's ears.

"How much of Voldemort do you have, do you think?" Harry asked.

"It is a very small amount, however, that is all we need," the goblin said. "Our theory is that there was very little in you to start with."

"Why do you say that?" Sirius asked. He and Amy had talked about the theory of Horcruxes, and Sirius' family history with them, and might have come to the same conclusion.

"Every time you create a Horcrux, you split the existing soul in half. So, the first he made –"

"Likely the diary that Ginny had last year," Harry interjected.

"Yes, we heard about that from Curse Breaker Weasley, and we agree that was likely the first. That one would have had half of the soul he was born with. Whatever he created next would have split the soul housed in his body. Since it was only a half, the next Horcrux would have had a quarter, then the next an eighth and so on. We found another in the vault of the former Black family member, Bellatrix Lestrange. We have already destroyed that one."

"Why does that not surprise me." Sirius loathed his family.

"So, there were at least three," Harry said. "Which means at most I had an eighth of his soul in me?"

"That would be true if there were only three. We do not believe there is. This sample is so infinitesimal that it might have started as only a thirty-second of his soul or a sixty-fourth. We will know more in the coming months."

"Why?" Sirius asked.

"One of the experiments we plan on carrying out is to see if we can locate the rest. I'd much rather send out a team of curse-breakers to deal with them than find out we could have done something, and someone was inadvertently injured by one. The goblin nation wants nothing to do with Voldemort and his followers than most wizarding society does. He is bad for business. Muggleborns simply leave the wizarding culture, and fewer people banking means lower profits."

"Always about the gold, eh?" Sirius said with a knowing grin. He liked goblins, they were straightforward about what was important to them and spoke without talking around certain subjects.

"Now, I understand you have business with Strongblade today?" the goblin asked.

"Yes, just some quick things to take care of. He should be awaiting us in his office," Sirius answered.

"Wait here, I will call someone to escort you." The goblin turned and with the pair of others, left the room.

"I need to get to my office. Do let me know how this afternoon goes, Harry. If Dr Philip isn't the right fit, we can keep looking. Sirius, you're in as great need as Harry is. Make sure you keep your appointment tomorrow afternoon with Dr Ellory."

"Yes, Andi." The trio were soon led from the medical wing and up into the bank proper. Sirius and Harry were dropped off with Strongblade while Andi went on to the lobby and into the street.

"Ah, Lord Black, pleasant to see you again. Heir Potter-Black, you are looking well. I take it the crystal procedure worked?" Strongblade greeted them each with firm handshakes. He was wearing a suit that Sirius coveted. Perfectly fit to his form and made from wool that draped effortlessly. Non-magical clothing was tailored so much better. Robes were boxy and unflattering, at least in his opinion. He hated the ones he was wearing, and they had been expensive and come from Paris.

"Yes," Harry said happily. Harry lifted his fringe to show that his scar was gone too. Strongblade gave a nod and then moved on to business.

"Concerning Miss Granger, I have all the transfers set up, we just need—"

"What about Hermione?" Harry asked, exceptionally concerned. Sirius took a deep breath.

"For the first three years at Hogwarts, Hermione paid twice the tuition you paid, which was fifty percent higher than what someone like Neville paid. Augusta and I had an illuminating conversation, and she was going to discreetly do some investigating while having her weekly 'teas'. I've spoken with Mini about it, and she has no idea who assigns tuition amounts. Being that Hermione is your best friend, I am going to reimburse the excess tuition to her and I'm arranging to pay her for the remainder of her time at Hogwarts. Remus has already sent them a letter telling her that she's been awarded a scholarship for her excellent grades."

"You don't have to do that," Harry said. "Her family is well off."

"I know, but I'd rather them keep that nest egg in case Hermione needs a tutor in her Muggle courses so she can go to Muggle Uni, like Remus did. He not only has his magical masters in Magical Creatures and Defence, but he has a Muggle degree in history," Sirius explained. "While the war was going on, it was safer for Remus to work in the Muggle world, and he went to Uni on a scholarship. He worked as a tutor on and off in Muggle history through the years. I want Hermione to have the same options available to her, as she's Muggle born."

"I can see your point. It's a great thing you're doing for her," Harry said with a genuine honesty that it touched Sirius.

BB*BB*BB*BB*BB

Mind Healer and doctor Phillip Ostrofsky was not what Harry was expecting. First, he was dressed in Muggle clothing – plaid dress shirt over a tee, jeans, loafers – he could have fit in at a mall or university anywhere in the UK. Second, he explained to Harry that whatever was said to him would never leave his mind. He might give a generalized report to his healer or his father, as he was a minor, but the specifics would always be private. He had put a spell on his notes that meant no one could read them, and he stored the memories of his sessions in a locked drawer with spells layered over them.

"Harry, what are three things you want me to know about you?" Dr Phillip, as he asked to be called, queried the boy.

"Er, I go to Hogwarts and trouble seems to find me while I'm there. My homelife until this summer really sucked, but then my dad rescued me. I like to cook, especially when I'm not being forced to do it." Harry said the first things that popped into his head, and like usual when he did things impulsively, he regretted them as soon as they left his mouth.

"Interesting," Dr Phillip said. "Usually, people give me superfluous information like their favourite colour and Quidditch team. I appreciate you giving me something more. So, is it cooking or baking that you enjoy?"

Harry was not expecting that question. "Either really; my favourite thing to do is something that I work on and then let cook a long time, like a roast with Yorkshire. Baking is fun, but I don't do fiddley stuff like pastry – unless it's in a packet from the grocers – I like pies or cookies. You do the prep, you bake them, it's done. I'm pretty savvy at making do with what's about and turning it into something tasty. I had to do that with Dad and Uncle Remus until I took over doing the shopping. Dad would go to the store and buy stuff, but it wasn't always useful – like seven kinds of crisps – and forget to bring home basics – milk, eggs, bread. Uncle Remus was afraid to spend too much money, so we were eating way to lean and Cousin Andi, my healer is also my cousin or aunt or something, anyway I need to put on weight, so we needed better food. I started shopping and it was better." Harry stopped to breathe and realized that was the most he'd said to anyone outside his family, Hermione and Neville.

"Sounds like it would be fun to be in the kitchen with you, or are you one of those chefs who hates to be interrupted?" Dr Phillip asked.

"I'm not a chef, although it would be interesting to be one, I think. No, I like it when Dad or Hermione is in the kitchen with me. Dad is pants at everything but setting the table. Hermione, however, she can be very helpful. I like cooking with her." Harry smiled warmly when he mentioned her.

"Tell me about Hermione. Does she live close to you?"

Harry was off, explaining about his best friend, their adventures and everything else. Dr Phillip asked gently probing questions, but never once touched on his abuse, his scar or the nightmares it produced, or his anger at Dumbledore and the Weasleys. They spent the hour mostly talking about cooking and Hermione and it eventually circled back to cooking with Hermione.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked.

"Of course, although I do keep the right to not share the answer if I find it to personal," Dr Phillip answered. "Just as you have the same right." Harry nodded.

"It's nothing like that. I just wonder… I've talked with Uncle Remus, and he wasn't very helpful, and Neville is inepter with girls than I am. There is no way I'd ask Dad because he'd take the mickey out of me. So, my question is, how do you know if you like a girl in a like-like way?"

"Why do you ask Harry?"

"I think I might like Hermione as a girl… but I'm not sure," he paused. "When she wears shorts or skirts… you know, without tights or stockings or socks, well… she has great legs. Does that mean I like her?" Harry sort of bumbled the words out.

"It could, it might not, or it might mean you just appreciate her legs. Most of the male population of the world appreciates a woman's shapely legs. Whatever you decide, your gut will guide you. We all figure it out in the end, trust me. I've been married for thirteen years."

"Okay." Harry was just going to go with his gut. Right now, his gut said to be friends.

"For your homework, I would like you to write down the good things that happen each day and any nightmares or panic attacks you have," Dr Phillip said, handing Harry a leather-bound journal. "It has spells on it, so no one will be able to read it."

"I can do that, thanks," Harry said standing and offering his hand.

"Then I'll see you the same time next week, but if you have an emergency, please Floo call me, or I do have a phone if you have one."

"Not yet, but Hermione has one, so she could let you know." Dr Phillip nodded and opened the door and Harry walked out.

Sirius was standing in the outer office appearing to be holding up the wall in the way he was leaning against it. He was reading what looked like a very old book. When he realized that Harry was out of his session, he slid the book into his robes pocket. "How did it go?" Sirius asked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Good. We talked a lot about cooking and why I like it," Harry answered.

"Because you want to eat something, er, edible?" Sirius offered.

"No, because I enjoy cooking. I like the process. I like that we chat while I'm doing it and sometimes Hermione helps. I like that what I make feeds our family."

"Better answer. What's your book?"

"It's a journal for good stuff that happens and bad stuff too. Can we stop to get something to eat on our way home, I'm starving," Harry deftly changed the subject. He didn't want to discuss his therapy too much. He wanted Sirius to be excited or at least not dreading going to his own session.

"You ate two hours ago," Sirius said in a fake mocking tone.

"Yeah, it's been two hours. Just some chips or tea and cakes?"

"We'll go get fish and chips. I'm a bit peckish too."