Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, PAS MOI!!

"Harry?" Minerva walked into her ward's room, not excited about the conversation ahead.

"Professor?" Harry looked up at her, he had just finished reading his friends' letters and looked rather tired.

She sighed and sat down on the chair opposite his bed. "I understand you don't believe me, and likely are not going to for a while, but we are going to have to talk about it again."

"No professor, please not today." Harry pleaded.

Minerva didn't want to either, but he had to understand. "Harry, I am sorry but we are going to speak of this."

Harry sighed and sat up. "Alright, but my mind is not going to change."

Minerva nodded, Poppy told her how difficult it would be for Harry to change the views that were hammered into his brain, but she also said it would help him to heal. "Why do you think you deserve what your relatives did to you?"

Harry immediately started rattling things off, his eyes on his hands.

Minerva couldn't understand most of what he said, but a few phrases stuck out in her brain like "I-I am a burden and a good-for-nothing f-freak. My hardworking relatives have put clothes on my back and f-food in my mouth, but I have n-never repaid them for their kindness…" The boy sounded as if he had memorised the words, and Minerva was certain he had.

"Harry, look at me." Minerva's voice was firm but gentle as she looked at the young man again.

He turned to her, his eyes full of tears he wasn't allowed to shed for all those years.

"You are no freak. You are not a burden and nothing your relatives gave you cost money, most of it was from your cousin."

Harry shook his head, "They put food in my mouth and wasted money on things for me."

Minerva knew she shouldn't say it, but she couldn't stop herself. "The only money they spent on you were the bars on your window, locks for your door, and tools to beat you with." She said hotly, her rage overtaking her for a moment.

Harry looked down again and Minerva regretted her little outburst. Her ears were ringing now and she almost missed Harry's next statement.

"I mean things I didn't deserve, those things I did need. They sent me to the hospital once when I was five…"

"Why did you go to the hospital?" She asked, dreading the answer.

"They said I got run over by a car, but I really dropped a plate and my uncle hit me so hard I would have died if not for the hospital…"

Minerva was shaking in anger now. "Do you think Miss Granger should have been beaten within an inch of her life for breaking a plate when she was five?"

Minerva tried hard not to shake him by the shoulders. "No. You do not deserve to be beaten or neglected."

Harry looked up at his professor, "Ma'am, if that were true then why have so many tried to harm me?"

"Three people do not count as 'so many,' Harry." Minerva explained gently

"There was Dudley, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Quirrell, Lockheart, Malfoy, Voldemort, and all the other Death Eaters in the graveyard." Harry mumbled, staring at his hands again.

Minerva had to admit he had a point, but he didn't have to know that. "Harry, none of them were good people. No one who is truly good would hurt you."

Harry shook his head, his eyes fixed on a point over her shoulder. "Ma'am, you're wrong. I am a freak, I deserve punishment, and I deserved to die with my parents."

Minerva's eyes started to tear up. She went to put his hand on his shoulder, but he flinched back violently.

Minerva was angered by this. 'How dare those monsters hurt this precious boy? He knows no love, well I'll show him!' Minerva thought to herself.

She opened her mouth, intending to tell Harry how she truly thought, but it came out more aggressive than she attended. "HARRY POTTER YOU LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW!" Minerva yelled.

She went on yelling her frustrations out for quite some time, oblivious to the fact that Harry had left the room to hide from her outrage.

Minerva looked around for her ward, but he was nowhere to be found. She stood up and entered the bathroom, knowing Harry was too weak to have gone far.

He was sitting there, his face buried in his knees, apologizing over and over again. "I am sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. I am sorry…"

Minerva felt so terrible for scaring the young boy, all previous anger forgotten.

"Harry, I'm not mad at you. I am frustrated that you cannot see that you did not deserve that treatment, but I understand that is not your fault."

Harry looked into her eyes, searching for some sign of a lie or anger. Obviously satisfied with his findings, he continued. "But you were yelling at me. You were not yelling like Ron does when I win Quidditch, but like my uncle when he's angry." Harry's voice was quiet and shaking, Minerva's ears straining to hear the boy.

Minerva wrapped her own shaking arms around the sobbing boy. Harry stiffened at first, obviously not used to hugs, but he eventually sunk into it, his tears soaking her robe as he cried.

Minerva didn't know how long she and Harry had sat there on the bathroom floor, or when she had started crying, but she didn't care. All that mattered was Harry understood he was loved.

"Professor?" Harry's voice was calmer now, but was still quite scratchy from crying.

"Yes?"

"D-Did you mean it?" He asked hesitantly. It was obvious that despite their various conversations, the boy still did not trust her completely.

"Mean what, Harry?"

"T-That you care about me?"

Minerva swallowed thickly. "Harry, look at me."

As the two pairs of glassy eyes met each other, Minerva nodded. "Harry, you mean a lot to me. I regret not following your parent's will every day. I care for you deeply and really hope you can forgive both me and yourself."

Harry's lip quivered, but his gaze remained. "Professor, I was never mad at you. You had no way to know."

Minerva shook her head, "You're wrong, but we don't need to talk about that now. We need to focus on you."

"Professor, did you mean that it wasn't my fault too?" Harry's gaze dropped and another tear slipped down his cheek.

Minerva took a deep breath and pushed his head up. "Yes. No one deserves what the Dursleys did to you. You could have killed their son and burned their house down and you would not have deserved it."

"But what did I deserve for being a f-freak?"

Minerva closed her eyes momentarily and took another shaky breath. "Harry, you are no freak. What did you do to make them call you that?"

"I didn't even know my name before grade one, so I don't know…" He whispered.

Minerva forced herself to continue to look into the young man's beautiful green eyes. "Then nothing. I'm sure you acted much better than your cousin, and it wasn't an isolated incident."

Harry smiled sadly. "Well I thought I was a freak because I did weird stuff before I started at Hogwarts, but no one else who does magic is a freak, just me."

Minerva tried to hide her glee, they were getting somewhere! "So why did you think yourself to be one after you started at Hogwarts?" She asked gently.

"B-Because I was-was…"

"Was it because it was beaten into you?"

Harry looked down again. "Yes," He whispered. "b-because if I was referred to as a freak, then I was one.."

Minerva looked at him. "So if I refer to you as evil, would I be correct?"

Harry shook his head. "I am not evil, just a bad person." He said in wonder.

Minerva let out a sob and hugged Harry to her chest again. "You are not a bad person, Harry!"

Harry started to cry again. "I-I am."

"Why?"

"B-Because I let the Dursleys go to jail and C-Cedric died because of me…"

"No." Minerva said firmly. "What the Dursleys did was illegal and I don't know the story behind Cedric, but it was You-Know-Who's fault, not yours."

"Can I tell you the story of Cedric? When I told Sirius and Dumbledore it helped."

Minerva nodded and Harry started his tale. "I saw the cup and was almost to it when I saw a giant spider running at Cedric." Harry took a deep breath and continued. "I told him about it and we stunned it, but I broke my leg in the process."

Minerva knew Harry's leg was hurt when they were listening to Crouch's tale, but she didn't connect that the boy had fought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with a broken leg.

"I told him to take the cup but he told me to. We argued for a bit about who should take it, but we eventually decided to do it together."

Harry was crying again, but he continued anyway. "We landed in the graveyard and he said, 'wands out, do you recon?' but then Pettigrew came out and Voldemort told him to 'kill the spare.'"

Harry buried his head in his hands and started to weep.

Minerva was in shock, the boy was in no way responsible, but Minerva could see why he felt that way.

"Do you still think it wasn't my f-fault, Professor?"

Minerva nodded. "I understand why you think that way, but you had no way to know about what happened."

Harry looked at her, his eyes full of an emotion Minerva hadn't seen in a while: hope.