Hermione and Ron looked at their friend with shock. Harry looked down and gave them a nervous smile. It seemed like he was living in constant anxiety these days. It had taken all of his courage to approach them with this information, and he wanted it to go well.

"Harry, you saw a therapist?" Hermione asked. "At Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, tonight," he answered, getting comfortable in an armchair. "Professor Snape arranged it. She came by Floo from St. Mungo's."

"Snape arranged it?" Ron was flabbergasted. "I don't understand what this is all about, Harry."

"Honestly, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Harry's been struggling all term with his emotions, and obviously Professor Snape noticed something was wrong and found someone to help."

"That's basically it," said Harry, nodding in agreement. "We started talking during my detentions and we discussed my symptoms. He helped find a healer who specializes in child psychology to come and do an assessment."

"Symptoms?" Ron was still confused. He moved in closer to Harry. "An assessment? What's going to happen to you, Harry?"

"Give him some space, Ron." Hermione pushed him back.

"It's okay," said Harry. "It's a long story, and I don't have that many answers, to be honest. But I have some symptoms of depression, and I'm going to see Dr. Keller again next week to figure out what to do next."

Hermione nodded and Ron gave Harry a funny look.

"But...people go to healers for things like this when..." Ron was stumbling over his words. "You know, when they go mental, yeah? Not that I think you're mental, Harry."

This is what Harry had been afraid of, that people would think he was a nutter. It stung.

"Right. Well, I am mental, aren't I?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry, you aren't!" Hermione said, emphatically. "There's nothing wrong with having depression or talking to someone about it. I'm very proud of you."

"Thanks." Harry looked down at his hands. "I'll be back in a little while. I need to go upstairs and think for a few minutes."

"Sure, mate," said Ron, who was also looking down. Harry hadn't meant to make anyone uncomfortable, but he couldn't keep this a secret forever.

"Things will get better, Harry." Hermione put her hand on Harry's arm as he stood to leave.

Harry smiled at her. "That's what Snape said, too." As he turned to leave, he enjoyed the look of shock on Ron's face.

***

The appointment with Dr. Keller had been so eventful it was hard for Harry to write it all down in his journal. He kept coming back to the way she allowed him to avoid talking about the Dursleys.

I'd worried so much about having to talk about the Dursleys, and I didn't even have to. What a relief! When I'm not in Surrey, I don't want to have to think about them. If it were up to me, I'd never see them again.

Ron thinks I'm mental, but I knew that would happen. There was no getting around it, though. I had to tell them, didn't I? Hermione seems to understand, but she knows about psychology. I hope Ron gets it soon.

Harry was going to write about Snape telling him he'd done very well, but he found himself feeling paranoid about the privacy of his journal. Snape was supposed to only read the entries that he'd asked Harry to write, but it was hard to be honest, knowing that the little book would be out of his hands. It made him very uncomfortable to think about sharing it with anyone else.

Seamus came into the dorm and Harry looked up.

"Goin' to bed, Potter?" Seamus asked, sneering. "Too bad there's nothing to drink, yeah?"

"Look, I said I was sorry," said Harry. He was trying to keep himself under control. "At least I was able to warn you guys that there would be a search."

"I guess." Seamus shrugged. He seemed to be backing off, and Harry was relieved. "It's pretty aggravating, but I'll get over it eventually." He walked away and Harry looked down. Once he was alone, he pulled the curtains around his bed so he wouldn't have to deal with anyone else.

Lying down, Harry placed his hands under his head and brought up his knees. His bed was so soft and comfortable; he loved to relax here. Before he'd come to Hogwarts last year, back on Privet Drive, he'd never imagined a bed as grand as this one. Thinking back, he couldn't help but frown when he remembered what it was like to have a cupboard as his room. Not really a room at all, just a spare bit of storage space under the stairs.

Last year Harry had been overwhelmed by every last detail of his new life. From the moment he'd properly received his Hogwarts letter and was on his way with Hagrid, everything changed. Even now, over a year later, he was still finding out new things about the wizarding world. Perhaps someday he'd learn more about his parents. He'd grown up with a loose construct in his head about them - what they'd been like - but he didn't have anything to base it on other than his imagination. Copious amounts of time locked in the cupboard had led to Harry having a very active imagination.

But this past summer, Harry spent his time locked in what had been Dudley's second bedroom. It was quite spacious compared to the cupboard, but it still wasn't his room. During this time in solitary confinement, he'd had a lot of time to think. Before Hogwarts, he'd had an idea that his life sucked compared to other kids' lives, but since he wasn't allowed to have friends, or visit other homes and families, he didn't know firsthand how other people lived. Everything he was exposed to was carefully controlled by his aunt and uncle. Once he'd been out of Little Whinging and at Hogwarts, there could be no denying the difference between his life and that of other kids his age.

At the Burrow, Harry had seen Ron's family have fun. They laughed and played Quidditch and ate meals together - their closeness astonished Harry. He'd never felt like he was a part of the family with the Dursleys, even though he was Petunia's blood nephew. But right away with the Weasley family, he'd felt welcome. It had made him uncomfortable, because he hardly knew how to handle himself. He didn't know how to have fun. Not without worrying the bottom would drop out at any moment.

Feeling sorry for himself wouldn't make anything better. There was nothing he could do to change the past, or make up for his crappy childhood.

***

After a trying day, with a second year Hufflepuff nearly blowing up the dungeons first thing in the morning, Severus found himself less than enthusiastic about his evening with Potter. If the boy gave him an ounce of trouble, he'd be sorry. In order to bring his mind to center, he decided to have Potter complete the detention part of the evening first, so that Severus could do some work and try to relax. Otherwise, he'd lack the requisite patience to talk civilly, and there was little sense in damaging the rapport they'd been building.

When Potter entered his office, Severus removed his fingers from his temple and looked up. The boy was grinning at him.

"Hi, Professor," said Harry. He felt stupid looking at Snape with a dumb grin on his face, but he couldn't help it, he'd been looking forward to this all day.

"Potter." Severus was taken aback and had to recover from the shock of witnessing Potter so happy to see him. Merlin's beard! No child had ever broken out into a grin upon seeing him in his office. Ever. "I've had a long day. I would like for you to take care of a task for me before we sit down to talk. It will give us both a chance to collect our thoughts."

"Um, okay," said Harry. "What should I do?"

"The storage cupboards containing the books in the classroom are in disarray," Severus said, standing. He continued talking while guiding Harry over to where he wanted him to work in the classroom. "Please straighten these books out and set them up by year. As you can see, students have thoroughly ransacked the school's copies while waiting to receive their own."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He moved toward the cupboard and got to work.

"When you're finished, come back into my office and we will talk." Severus returned to his office.

Harry was good at this type of job, and began by removing all of the books in order to sort them. He didn't want to assume, but it appeared that Snape was having Harry complete this task so that he'd be able to talk to him properly, without letting the frustration from his bad day interfere. It looked like Snape wanted to be in top-notch form when they talked. Which Harry completely understood. When you have a day that's been rubbish all along, the last thing you want to do is sit down and chat. It's too easy to get frustrated or be a prat. Maybe Snape was trying not to be a prat with Harry tonight. He laughed out loud at the thought, and then turned to make sure he was alone in the room. Harry felt good. He had that feeling in his stomach again, like it was doing a little flip, because Snape cared. He must.

Setting up the books correctly in the cupboard was no problem at all. It took about thirty minutes before he was satisfied with the way it looked. But he hesitated before returning to the office. Should he have taken more time? Would Snape be ready? Only one way to find out. Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the office door.

"Enter." Snape was sitting at his desk with a cup of tea, looking infinitely more relaxed than thirty minutes prior. He gestured for Harry to sit. "Would you care for tea, Potter?"

Harry turned to stare before sitting. "Um, yes, sir," he said, surprised. "Tea would be nice."

Severus poured a cup for Harry and set it before him on the small table which separated their chairs. He'd been tinkering with the setup between the seats to make the area as comfortable as possible for them both. The small table allowed them to set down tea, but wasn't large enough to be an obstruction.

Severus sat down in his chair, ramrod straight, taking a sip of tea and then placing it down on the table. He allowed himself to relax just a little, crossing his right leg over his left and clasping his hands around his knee.

A small boy for his age, the chair was large for Harry, and he always managed to find many casual ways to sprawl out in it. It showed how comfortable and at ease Harry was in this room.

"Are you feeling better, sir?" Harry asked, and then stifled a grin. It wouldn't do to be grinning at Professor Snape every five minutes as though they were best mates. He had to get himself under control.

"Much," Severus said lightly. "Thank you, Harry, for completing that chore and understanding that it would be best to wait before we started."

Harry nodded. "I'm glad it worked."

"Indeed." Severus couldn't agree more. "The session with Dr. Keller last night no doubt left you with much to think about, Mr. Potter. Do you have any thoughts you'd like to share with me?"

Harry curled up in the chair and took a sip of tea while he composed his thoughts. "So much happened during the talk with her, I've been thinking about how it all went. I wrote about it last night when I got back to the dorm. I was relieved that she didn't make me talk about the Dursleys."

Severus raised his eyebrow. "Are you hoping that Dr. Keller won't bring it up again? Do you think that the information isn't important?"

Frowning, Harry glanced up at Severus. "I don't want to talk about it. Talking about them won't change what happened."

"The issue, Potter, is that something clearly did happen, and while you may not be asked to discuss it tonight, or even next week, eventually it will come up," said Severus. "It seems reasonable that you prepare yourself. I can help you with this process, if you wish."

Feelings of panic began to emerge in Harry as he considered Snape's words. "So, you think that I'm going to have to talk about it?"

"Harry, calm down," Severus said in an even tone. "Do not let this overwhelm you tonight, because no one is going to force you to talk about anything until you are ready to do so. What I'm trying to help you understand is that you cannot avoid the subject forever, and I am willing to help you slowly get to the point where you can discuss it without becoming upset."

Several moments of silence passed between them. Harry took deep breaths, in and out, and didn't allow himself to panic. He took the time to think about what Snape was saying, and once he thought he understood, he spoke.

"You'd help me get to the point where I could talk about the Dursleys," said Harry, his tone flat. "How could you do that? I can't imagine ever being able to do it."

"The strategy I have in mind involves your journal, as well as these evening talks," Severus said. "You will use the journal to write about the things that you feel you are ready to discuss with me. That way, when we talk you will already have an idea of what you plan to say, and since the discussion will not be a surprise, you should be able to prepare yourself mentally. Also, I will not push for information you choose not to discuss. Harry, this will be on your terms as much as possible, because I think it will be the least traumatic way to bring the memories out."

Harry didn't reply because he didn't know how to feel about what was happening. Why did Snape want to help him? What had changed?

"Why do you care?" Harry asked, snidely. Immediately he wished he could take it back. Snape glared at him. "I mean, what good will it do to talk about it? It won't change anything."

"I disagree," Severus replied. "Not talking about it and pretending as though it never happened is not the answer."

"I don't want to talk about it," snapped Harry.

"We have already established that sometimes we must do things we don't want to do, Harry." Severus reached out and touched the boy's arm and was surprised when Harry didn't recoil. He kept expecting Harry to cringe from contact with him, but it hadn't happened yet.

Harry's heart leapt as Professor Snape's hand touched his arm. He had a warm feeling despite his anger and frustration at being forced to rehash his life with the Dursleys.

"Sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful," said Harry, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is all so fucking confusing."

"Language, Potter." His rebuke was halfhearted. Severus gave Harry's arm a little squeeze before letting go. "You must be honest. And if that occasionally sounds like disrespect it is tolerable, so long as we are alone."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Professor. Oh, I wrote the journal entry about anger that you asked me to do. Would you like to read it?" He dug around in his bag and took out his journal. He opened it to the page of the entry and handed the book to Snape.

Severus took the small book and read the entry on anger. It alarmed him, but he carefully controlled his expression. He realized how much he was able to relate to Harry's feelings, especially the desire to beat someone to death with his bare hands. Something he'd wanted to do to James Potter when they were teenagers. He skimmed the entry over again, wishing he could read everything Harry had written in the journal. Instead, he handed it back. The boy's eyes were full of anticipation and anxiety.

"You did well with this entry," said Severus. "It concerns me that you are so full of rage. I consider this a serious issue, and would like you to bring it up with Dr. Keller."

"I'd rather talk to you about it, sir." Harry looked up. "I don't think she's going to understand. And what if she makes me go to the hospital?"

"Potter, I have not been trained as a mental health healer," Severus said. "She is the one you must speak to, and I did not get the impression that she will overreact to what you tell her. As she explained, there is a difference between wanting to kill and planning to kill."

"What does she know about killing? Or anger?" spat Harry. He clenched his fists.

"Neither of us knows the answer to that," Severus replied. "However, it sounds as though you presume too much about what I know concerning anger."

"Am I wrong, sir?" Harry asked. "About what you know about anger?" His eyes filled with tears, and this time he couldn't hold them back. They spilled from his eyes, and he removed his glasses before they could become covered with salty spots. Crying while wearing glasses was annoying.

"No, Harry," said Severus. "I am quite familiar with intense anger."

Head in his hands, Harry sobbed. Severus stood to walk over to his desk, and without thinking, Harry launched himself at the professor. He threw his arms around him in a fierce hug. Shocked, Snape put his hand on the back of Harry's head and returned the embrace. After a few moments, Harry pulled away, blushing furiously. He had hugged Snape, and Snape had hugged him back. Finally, he had someone who cared.