Shouts of joy and applause could be heard, as well as music. The sound of celebration echoed accross the water and into Harry's woods. He had remained to help take care of the bodies of the fallen. He had sat through the ceremony following Voldemort's defeat, and had even said a few words that he now failed to remember. However, when the celebrating began, he had slipped away unnoticed. His friends were all together, mourning the loss of family and friends while attending to the needs at Hogwarts. His guardian had apparated to the ministry to clear his name. When the singing had begun, Harry excused himself to the loo and then broke out in a dead sprint as he rounded the corner. 

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't...

_____________________________________________________

Severus searched the crowds of families, students, and faculties for the boy. He didn't want to leave after the battle but needed to before they began rounding up the death eaters for Azkaban. Luckily, Dumbledore had prepared for this moment and he had left the ministry a free man. 

After locating the Weasley's and Granger and having no luck at locating Harry, Severus thought for a moment and headed towards the place that he had first met the real Harry Potter that he had grown to know and love. After crossing the water, he hiked up the mound, no longer frozen as it was the other time he had been here. No, now the woods were green and vibrant, full of animal noises and warm. Severus' black robes grew hot as they conducted heat from the relentless sun, and he vanished them, remaining in his black jeans and green, short sleeved, collared shirt. As his head cleared the top of the mound and he ascended over the rocks, Severus' heart filled with compassion and sorrow as he saw the boy. 

In the middle of the tracks, Harry sat, arms around his knees, forhead resting atop. His face was hidden and he rocked gently forward and backward. When a sob was heard, Severus made his way towards the boy.

"Harry." he said, making his prescence known. At the sound of his voice, the rocking stopped for several seconds before it began again. 

Severus closed the distance between the two of them and sat down behind the boy.

"I'm going to touch you." He paused waiting for any indication that he had been heard. The boy gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. With this, he gently pulled the boy's arms off of his knees. Harry lifted his head slightly, and Severus realized that boy had not washed himself off from the battle. Caked mud matted his cheeks, mingled with blood that Severus hoped was not Harry's. 

"Come here." He said softly. 

Harry peered up at him through his mess of hair and nodded again, awkwardly crawling over his own limbs as he turned around and waited for further instruction. When Severus opened his arms, the boy did not hesitate and hugged the man that he had grown so close to over the past year and a half. Severus pulled the boy onto his lap and the two held eachother until the sun grew dim and the shouts of acclamation died down. 

"I am so proud of you." Severus said hoarsely. "We did it, Harry."

_____________________________________________________

ONE YEAR LATER 

Harry sat at the kitchen table in the small cottage that he and Severus shared. It was the same cottage that they had spent two Christmas breaks and one Summer in, and it held fond memories. Harry smiled as he recalled the times that they had spent after Severus had adopted him, before the war. Even in the wake of Sirius' death and chaos at Hogwarts, those respites still seemed set in a simpler time.

 Severus walked in to find Harry holding a piece of paper and staring unseeingly at the wall. Whenever he caught Harry like this, his stomach always dropped, sensing the familiarity of the expression as one of remembrance.

It's no wonder when most of the boy's memories are not good ones. 

Frowning, Severus walked forward and sat beside him, reaching tentatively to grab the paper from his boy. 

"Congradulations," Severus said with a half-smile. 

Shaken out of his reverie, Harry looked startled before smiling back and muttering a half-hearted thanks. 

"You don't appear to be excited about it." Severus said with a hint of concern. 

"I knew I would get in." Harry replied, his voice lacking inflection. At Severus' raised eyebrow and smirk, Harry shoved him playfully and grinned. "Oh, come off it! It's not arrogance its common sense. The ministry has been wanting me as their property since the day my parents died. Being their auror is as close as they're going to get."

Severus nodded knowingly and said, "Nevertheless, you have earned it. Congradulatons." 

"Thank you sir," Harry replied in earnest. Severus stood up and ruffled his hair affectionately. 

"I will be brewing in my lab. Feel free to come by and help me if you should care to."

Harry nodded and watched Severus leave the room, eyes trained on the doorframe. Looking back down at the letter held in his hands, he thought the words that had been cycling through his head like a mantra since the day that he defeated Voldemort. 

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't....

______________________________________________________________

Severus headed towards his lab, stopping abrubtly when he remembered a message that the Granger girl had left for Harry while he was away. Turning around, he quietly peered into the kitchen, the boy's name on the tip of his tongue. He stopped, however, when he saw Harry, forhead resting on the table top, arms atop his head. His stomach fluttered once again and he frowned. 

The boy is clearly not alright. 

Resisiting the urge to walk in and comfort him, Severus quietly exited and determined to begin researching their options immediately. Even though he had guardianship, Harry was already of legal age to be considered an adult. Severus' brows furrowed at the thought. 

He is but a boy. He needs me. 

Severus got to work. 

"Hawwyyy!!!"

The loud squeal of Harry's Godson could be heard throughout the house (and in the neighboring woods no doubt!) Teddy giggled unreservedly as Harry levitated various toys throughout the room, making them walk on the ceiling, nearly knocking over furniture, and  gently bopping Teddy on the back of the head, making him squeal in surprise. It was this sight that greeted Severus when he poked his head into the doorway of the living room to get his adopted son's attention. 

 "Harry," Severus began, before realizing that it would take a freight train to get the two boys' attention. Instead, Severus murmered wingarium leviosa, slowly hovering two blankets from the couch onto each of the boys' heads. 

"OY!" Harry yelled in surprise, just as Teddy's squeal echoed off of the walls. Both threw the blankets off and looked around the room. 

"UNCA SEBBY!" Teddy yelled, pushing himself up and clumsily wobbling towards the dour man. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Severus had pushed his petty rivalries aside and not only allowed the constatnt visitation of Harry's godson, but encouraged it. Having Teddy around appeared to be the only time that Harry was genuinely happy. Even when Harry avoided his friends, or redheaded girlfriend, he was always ready to see his godson and went out of his way to do so. After all,  it wasn't as if Severus himself had feelings for the toddler. 

 Teddy crashed into Severus' knees, who in turn stooped down and lifted the light child into his arms. 

"Unca Sebby, Unca Sebby! Hawwy Pway! Toys OOOO!" The last expression was screeched out, as Teddy pointed to the toys that were slowly floating down from the ceiling. Teddy was so excited that the bit of hair that he had was changing colors without him noticing. It was now a bright pink color.  When Severus remained silent, Teddy scrunched his brows up and insisted louder, "OOOOOO!!!!" Pointing vehemently at the ceiling. 

The brat is rather cute. 

Severus huffed at himself, looking down at Harry, who was in turn smirking at him. Quirking an eyebrow, Severus began to slowly lift Teddy up higher, and both boys watched him in anticipation. Bringing the child's stomach up to his face, he quickly lifted the toddler's light blue T-shirt, exposing his plump tummy. Severus proceeded to slowly move toward it, as Teddy's face scrunched up in anticipation. 

 "Nomnomnom!" Severus exclaimed as he pretended to eat Teddy's tummy. Teddy squealed in delight, looking down at Harry who was laughing at the scene. 

"No eat Sebby! No eat!" Teddy chastized as he giggled. 

Setting the child down, Severus looked down at Harry who was now paying attention, while trying not to laugh.

Merlin, I have grown as soft as Dumbledore himself. Severus thought in amusement. Schooling his features, Severus continued on as if nothing had happened. 

"Harry, I am having a meeting in my study and will be unavailable for the next hour or so. Should you need me, simply knock." 

Seeing Harry's troubled look, Severus continued. "It is merely a professor from a neighboring school asking questions about a tricky potion."

Harry nodded, worries gone. "Okay, Sev." Severus nodded, ruffled Harry's hair, and left the room. 

Harry looked after him with a lopsided grin on his face, before returning to his godson. 

____________________

Harry glanced up from where he was stacking blocks for Teddy to knock down. 

It's already 7:00! Teddy was due for dinner two hours ago!

Looking down guiltily, Harry noticed his godson's drooping eyelids. 

I can't even take care of a one-year old correctly, Harry thought in self-deprication. What would Lupin say? Lupin. My fault, my....

Harry shook his head to clear it.

"Alright Teddy, let's get you something to eat so we can play in the bath."

"Yay!" Teddy exclaimed, quickly popping up. 

Harry picked Teddy up, transfiguring him a high chair using two of the kitchen chairs, and fit a bib on him. Harry had bought the bib himself, and it was the only bib that Teddy would allow anybody to put on him, as it was Gryffindor red with a small golden snitch buzzing around it.  Pulling a container out of the fridge, Harry placed a heating charm on it and began to slowly spoon the mushy food into Teddy's mouth. 

Once they were done, Harry hoisted Teddy up by the armpits, taking the bib off and throwing the utensil into the sink. Heading towards the bathroom with Teddy on his hip, Harry paused at the door, hearing the exasperated voice of Severus. 

"...want the BEST for Harry, not some second rate quack. I want him in THIS group." 

"You aren't allowed to choose who Harry is in the program with Mr. Snape."

"I am paying good MONEY for you to take care of my son. How..." Severus' rant was cut short as Teddy let out an impatient huff.

"Hawwy! Pway in Wawa!" 

Shit, Harry thought, his heart dropping to his stomach. Quickly turning around, Harry took a step as the door to Severus' study opened. 

"Harry?" Severus questioned. He had already closed the door behind him so that he and the two boys stood alone in the long hallway.

Feeling vulnerable and cornered from getting caught eavesdropping, Harry blanched. "Oh, hello sir! I'm just doing bathtime with Teddy, sir. Sorry sir!"

Smooth, Potter. Really smooth. Harry looked at his feet, face red, and bit down hard on his bottom lip. Before he knew what was happening, Harry saw a hand coming toward him in his peripheral and ducked out of the way, cradling Teddy to his chest protectively. Opening his eyes, Harry saw Teddy's bright eyes (currently as green as his own) watching him in confused alarm. Slowly unclenching himself, Harry looked up at his guardian whose face resembled that of his godson before Severus schooled his features. Severus continued to reach for Harry, more slowly this time, grabbing his chin and pulling his bottom lip out from where it was being bitten. 

"Go ahead and give Teddy that bath and then put him to bed. I've already put his stuff in the cupboard." Harry closed his eyes and swallowed, hearing the familiar word.

Cupboard, cupboard, cupboard. Get in the...

  "Harry." Severus said, gently. "Teddy's things are in his closet. "Severus reached out slowly and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "It's alright. Go on, son." Severus said, quietly. 

Son. Harry blinked and smiled to himself, letting the word warm him, and nodded at his guardian. Severus saved that particular endearment for moments when he sensed that Harry was feeling particularly raw or unsure of himself. It was especially used on nights where Harry found himself awakened, sweaty and confused, sometimes sobbing if the nightmare was particularly bad. It reminded him that no matter what happened or had already passed, he was somebody's son. He was wanted. 

____________________

Severus entered the room, sitting down on the chair across from his guest. Taking a deep breath, he set a warming charm on his cup of tea, which had gotten cold, and uncharacteristically showed emotion by running his hair through his long hair in agitation, ruffling it. 

"Harry will begin next week."

____________________

As Harry bathed Teddy, he found his mind wandering to the snippets of conversation that he had heard Severus having in his study.

He's trying to send me away. I'm too old to need to be taken care of, so where would he send me? He's paying somebody to take me? What if he's locking me up in some sort of facility? Are there orphanages for adults? That's stupid. Bloody hell. He's trying to send me away. 

By the time Teddy was bathed and asleep and Severus had walked back into the living room, his guest gone, Harry had worked himself up in worry.

"Harry?" Severus' voice questioned in concern from the doorway. Harry was laying down on his stomach, face down on the brown sofa. A green blanket covered his body and a throw pillow was over his head. Harry looked up, pillow bouncing on the floor, forgotten.

With tears in his eyes, Harry asked a question that broke Severus' heart. 

"Why don't you want me anymore?"

"The snack room is right here. There is hot water to make tea, and there's usually  coffee brewed."

The woman was much too cheerful for Harry's liking as she pointed around the sterile looking room which held a refrigerater, two coffee makers, and two rows of tables with chairs. 

"Those of you who are full day will be eating lunch in here as well. You should all be full day since it is your first day and you are meeting your treatment team. If you will come into this room, this will be your orientation room." She guided them into a room that looked more like office space. "We have to go through your binders, and then we will be finished, and you may join your assigned groups."

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Harry asked timidly. The other three people in his orientation group eyed him as he spoke. Harry was one of the youngest people in the program, which drew some attention. He found himself grateful for the umpteenth time today that he was in a place predominently muggle. Smiling shyly, Harry continued. "Will we be with the same people during out entire stay here?"

The woman smiled warmly back. "Not a fan of surprises, huh?" Harry gave a half-smile and shrugged self-consciously. The woman was about the age that his own mum would be if she were alive. She was direct, but warm, and reminded Harry of a more inteleectual Mrs. Weasley. 

"People spend anywhere from two to four weeks here, depending on what they need. Some people that you meet today may be on their way out, whereas others may arrive tomorrow for their first day.You will stick with the same room and general group of people, but the group will recycle itself as time progresses."

Harry scrunched up his brow and nodded once he thought he understood. 

"Any other questions?" The woman asked, Harry. 

"No ma'am."

"How about you all?" She asked, looking at the other three.

There were a couple responses for the negative and a shaking of the head. 

"Alright, I'm going to go get you all some paperwork to fill out, and then we will begin." She took a step toward the door before turning around and meeting Harry's eyes. "Oh, and Harry?" 

"Yes ma'am?"

"My name is Sarah. Enough with this ma'am business."

"Yes m...Sarah." Harry met Sarah's eyes before looking back down to his feet.

"Atta-boy."

When Harry looked back up, Sarah had left and the other three were already seated. He took a deep breath, making sure that he didn't look as scared as he felt. He was in a room with a man about Severus' age, a boy who looked to be a year or two older than himself, and a middle-aged woman. 

How do you make conversation in the loony bin? Stop it Harry. Severus said not to call it that. It's only an outpatient program for people that are stuck. Still...how do you talk to people here?. Hey, what are you in here for? Wait, that's prison. Blimey.

The boy to his left drummed his fingers on the table nervously, stopping when Harry turned to look at him. He offered Harry a shy smile and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hullo, I'm Cody. Harry, right?" He extended his hand, and Harry shook it.  Cody was a brunette with light brown eyes and wore a baseball shirt, cap, and sweat pants. 

"Hullo, Cody."

The woman across from them smiled and added in quickly, "I'm Elaine."

"Hullo Elaine," Cody and Harry responded together. 

"Tim," the man said, smiling. He was a tired looking man who somehow gave the appearance of having no energy but nervous energy. Harry was wary of the man, Tim, at first, but quickly became convinced that he was just a bit troubled. 

"I see you have all met eachother," Sarah said, coming in carrying four large binders. "If you will open up to page three, I will try to get you all through orientation as quickly as possible, and into your groups."

"Yay," Tim replied sarcastically, and Harry and Cody both sniggered. They were all anxious about being there in the first place, and were hesitant to meet everybody else. The program was a strange place to be. You could act strong and "normal" all you wanted, but whether you wanted them to know or not, those around you knew that you were broken or troubled enough to be there in the first place. Aparently there are no walls in group therapy. 

"I know, I know," Sarah replied, to Tim with a knowing grin. "Who actually wants to be here?" When nobody raised their hand, Sarah nodded and continued. "The firat day is always the scariest, but I promise that it does get better. I swear by this program and the impact that it has on those whoI have personally seen go through it. It is not a "cure-all," but it does work. That is, if you do." She looked pointedly at Tim, giving him a hard time, and he smirked, winking at the boys.

"Lets begin."

____________________

When orientation was over, the group was split apart as each person was given a room number, Harry was disappointed that Tim and Cody would be in different groups, and even felt that he would have liked to have Elaine around. After Sarah left to get their assignments, Harry was brought out of his musings as he sensed movement in his peripheral and quickly caught something that was being hurdled at his head. He was a seeker for a reason. 

Looking down in alarm, he realized that it was only one of the birght yellow stress balls that they had been given, with a big smiley face on the front, and the program's nameon the back.

"Damn," said Tim. "What are you, a ninja?" 

No, I'm a seeker, Harry thought, laughing, as he chucked the ball back at Tim, where it landed on his shoulder and bounced off. Just as he was feeling pleased with himself, Harry felt something pelt him on the back of the head and turned around to see Cody looking at him innocently.

"I think these stress balls work," Cody said, slyly. 

When Sarah came in, she was equal parts exasperated and amused as Tim was pelting Cody, who was under the table, and Harry was blocking a throw from Cody with his orientation binder. 

_________________________

When Harry walked through the door that afternoon, he was wiped out. The emotional energy that the day had required had him spent, but he knew that Severus would want to talk. Walking into the kitchen, he made himself a cup of strong tea and sat down at the kitchen table. Moments later, he heard footsteps and smiled to himself as he realized that someone had been waiting for him.

Sure enough, his guardian was perched in the doorway looking uncharacteristically nervous. 

"So?" Severus began, his eyes showing concern. 

Harry shrugged. "I'm really tired. I didn't really do much today besides orientation. When I finally got into group it was some yoga class, and they kept pulling me out of it to meet the people on my team."

Severus smirked at the word yoga, and Harry glared at him. "You're not allowed to poke fun, Severus. You put me in there."

Severerus' smirk quickly transformed into a frown as he walked in and sat across from his ward. "I would never make fun Harry. I must admit, I simply found it amusing to picture you with your hands up in the air worshipping the sun God. You know that you have a choice in this Harry. I..."

 Seeing Severus' guilt, Harry interruped. "I know, I know. I didn't mean it, Sev. It really wasn't that bad. And...I know that I...need help," Harry ended hesitantly. Severus reached across and put his hand on the boy's arm. Harry smiled. " Besides, all we did was breathing exercises. It was actually relaxing. You've been listening to the Beatles too much." 

Severus smirked and stood up, fixing himself his own cup of tea. 

Harry looked at his hands and looked up in surprise when Severus' booming voice filled the kithcen.

"HEY JUDE!" 

Harry had never laughed so hard in his entire life.

"Come in, Harry."

Harry hovered in the doorway uncertainly, hands stuffed in his dark blue jeans.

Sarah glanced up from the manilla folder in her hands and quickly examined the young man before her. He was a lean boy, but far from gangly. His dark hair stuck up where she had observed him nervously running his hand through it during the group sessions. He wore a red plain t-shirt with a pocket in the front and a pair of new navy blue sports shoes. 

Harry blushed under her scrutiny and looked down at his shoes. 

"Please, have a seat Mr. Potter."

Harry's head shot up and he looked at Sarah questioningly. Sarah, in turn, looked back calmly and nodded toward the chair across from her. Appearing to have found what he was looking for, Harry made his way across the room and sat down. 

"It's just Harry, ma'am." 

Sarah raised an eyebrow, and Harry quickly corrected with a smile: "I mean Sarah."

Sarah smiled warmly back. "Do you have an aversion to your name, Harry?"

Harry smiled and looked down, shrugging, before catching himself and stopping. Severus had long ago attempted to break him of his shrug. "Sometimes," Harry replied instead. 

"Is there a reason why?" Sarah asked, patiently.

Harry looked at her and then at his hands before quietly replying. "The name just carries a lot, I suppose." He paused and when she did not reply, he continued. "It feels heavy."

Sarah nodded understandingly. "I imagine that it would with all that you've been through. That being said, you have much to be proud of. You are a resilient young man."

Harry eyed her suspiciously and she smiled. "Yes, I do know about the wizarding world. My sister went to Hogwarts many years ago. She was meant to attend a school in the States, but Hogwarts, as you know, is prestigious and they accepted her after our mother mailed in a petition. That being said, although I am somewhat familiar with what goes on in the wizarding world, my goal is to get to know you."

"Thank you," Harry replied with a half-smile.

"Furthermore, you needn't let words hold such power. One of our main goals here in the program is to give you your power back. Many people come in here feeling powerless." When Harry nodded, she continued. "Fear of a name leads to fear of the thing itself, or what it represents."

Harry looked at her, stunned. 

"What is it, Harry?"

"Nothing. Someone very close to me said that exact thing once."

"They must be very wise," Sarah said, with a wink.

Harry looked back with a serious expression. "He was."

Sarah's expression changed, and she grabbed a mug on her desk, sipping it. Harry looked around the room as she did, taking in the various books and pictures. One held a picture of her beside a handsome brown haired man, with two small children in front of them. They were standing at some sort of station, and the boy and girl wore black robes. 

 Those can't be...they almost look like..

"Ah, you've noticed my secret family photo," Sarah cut in, interrupting his musings. "Yes, those are school dress robes. My children are both magical as well, and attend a school here in the states. Whenever anybody asks about their attire, I just say that it was for a school project of some kind. It may be a bit foolish for me to keep it out in the open, but it has proved to be a good way to see what some people know, in any case."

Harry smiled saying, "That's brillant."

There was a pause, and then Sarah began, "Well, Harry, this initial meeting is just for me to answer any questions that you may have. I will be your counselor while you are here, and you will meet with me twice a week, and if you should request to see me of course." She paused, giving him a very adult-like look. "Do not be shy in asking for help, Harry. I know that talking is difficult, and I have noticed that you may not be talking enough."

Harry made to cut in, but Sarah continued. "I know it is difficult and that this is only your first week, so you get a pass and no lecture." Harry smiled sheepishly. "Next week I expect you to participate much more. Being a wallflower is acceptable in certain situations, but here you get what you put in. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I will try."

"That is all that I ask. Now, do you have any questons for me?"

Harry thought. "Yes axctually. Just one. How will I know when and where I am to meet you?"

Sarah nodded, "Yes, I almost forgot. Do you remember the paper by the whiteboard in our room that told you to go to the lobby to see that doctor?" Harry nodded. "Your name and last initial will be there whenever you are needed for any type of meeting in the lobby. You do not have to ask to be excused. When the time on the paper comes around, just get up and go. You may leave your stuff in the room unless you do not care to."

"Okay, that makes sense," Harry replied.

"Alright sweetie. It's time for me to lead the next group. Let's walk together."

Harry nodded, warming at the endearment.

_______________________

When they entered the room, everybody else was already seated, including the other group leader that helped teach the last group of that day with Sarah. Harry had learned that there was a method to the madness, and that groups were structured so that there was the initial check in group, followed by a process group (cringe!) and then a life-skills group where one is taught how to healthily approach life. These groups were more beneficial than Harry thought they would be, and he found himself enjoying the respite from the heavy emotions sorted through in earlier groups. 

 Unfortunately, this left Harry with his guard down on this particular day. 

Harry took his seat and picked up his binder, putting the notes provided away as he did with other handouts. Looking on the board curiously, he watched Sarah write out two words that caused him to feel like picking his stuff up and bolting. 

Guilt and Shame

Taking out a paper shopping bag from a cabinet by the door, Sarah asked for volunteers. A few hands shot up, and Sarah brought some big books over from the same cabinet, setting it on the table beside the paper bag. 

"Okay. Kaitlyn, you first. I want you to hold this bag, and tell me some things that cause you to feel guilt or shame."

Kaitlyn nodded, and self-consciously began. 

"I, um. I feel as if I'm not a good enough mother. I mean I'm here, right?" 

Sarah nodded and put one of the heavy books in her bag. "Kaitlyn brings up a good point. Sometimes, we feel false guilt. I will explain this after we are done here."

Kaitlyn continued until her bag was full. 

"How does that feel?" Sarah asked, with a knowing smile. 

"Heavy," Kaitlyn replied. "I would become very tired if I had to carry this around all the time"

A lone tear slid down her cheek.

Harry swallowed thickly, biting his lower lip in order to control his emotions. 

Sarah then had Kaitlyn give reasons why the guilt or shame should be let go, and had the group give their own opinions on her feelings. Harry remained quiet. As each issue was addressed, a book was taken out, and before long it was light and empty. 

If only, Harry thought.

"Okay," Sarah said, addressing the group as she wrote on the board. "Let's differentiate guilt and shame, shall we?" Group members nodded, as she wrote and continued. "Guilt is the emotional reaction that we get when we do something wrong. Similarly, false guilt is the feeling that we get when we feel that we have done something wrong, but we haven't. With that, can anybody tell me what they think shame is?"

Turning her attention towards the semi circle of padded chairs, she looked at Harry, before addressing a man to his left. 

"Warren?"

"Man, why did you have to single me out, Sarah?" He asked, jokingly. 

Sarah laughed and replied, "We have talked about this before in our sessions, have we not?" 

Warren nodded. "Shame is the feeling that I am wrong. It's like an all-encompassing emotion that affects someones self-image."

Harry bit his lip harder. ...that I am wrong. I can't do this right now. Can it be shame if it's true? Bad. Freak. Slu...

"Harry?" Harry shook his head and looked up, where Sarah was standing above him with a look of concern. He flushed and look down. "Stay with us okay?" He nodded, and heard warren continuing. When he looked up again, Sarah was looking at Warren as he spoke.

"...about the war. I think the false guilt can turn into shame, you know? I killed people. As a result, I can pick up the label, "killer," ya know?"

Sarah nodded in understanding. "That is very common in war veterans, Warren. There..."

The feeling of needing to run away hit a cresciendo, as Harry sat stock still. War. Remus, Tonks, Fred. You can't save anybody. Sirius. Killer.

The lamps that lit the room began to flicker and a faint rattling noise could be heard. A book fell from the ledge of the table, startling Harry. 

Shit, my magic. Harry looked around, atempting to make it stop. He couldn't calm down. He shot Sarah a look of desperation. 

Sarah looked back calmly, and hushed the group. "Reign it back in guys. There is a train that passes by here on occasion and tends to rattle things up a bit. I will however take this second to remind you, Harry, that you have an appointment with the doctor. Harry nodded gratefully and left, in a near jog. When he did, the rattling stopped and the lights settled. 

_________________________________________________

"Harry dear, you have to calm down."

Harry looked up, startled, from where he was sitting on the ground in one of the empty group rooms, knees drawn to his chest. He felt like he was barely managing to breathe.

"Can't," he replied, taking deep breaths. "Sorry, accident." He said, nodding in the direction of the other room. 

Sarah smiled. "You are forgetting that I have two children of my own. Last week, Oliver got so mad at his sister that the toilet exploded." She chuckled, and Harry genuinely smiled at the image. "Let's practice breathing. Alright?" Harry nodded and followed her instruction.

"In...out. In...out. That's it, Harry," she encouraged. When he appeared to be calm, Sarah sat down on the ground in front of him, legs tucked under her. He suddenly felt silly. 

"I'm really..." Harry began, but was interrupted. 

"That better not be another apology," Sarah said in mock consternation. 

Harry smiled and looked down before becoming somber.

"I try not to think about it. About the war, and about everyone that died. About what my unc...about what happened to me. After the war, I moved in completely with Sev, and tried to start over new. I got accepted as an auror. My friends got married. I finally asked Ginny to be my girlfriend. I made it my goal to make myself into the person that I want to be. But I can't get away from it Sarah. I swear I try to. I don't wallow or dwell. I just can't stop seeing it."

Sarah nodded in sympathy and adjusted her position so that she was sitting with her legs crossed. "I want you to try an exercise with me."

Harry nodded and said cheekily, "As long as it doesn't involve that blasted bag of books."

Sarah chuckled, appreciating the young man's sense of humor. 

"No books, I promise. This one is fairly easy."

Harry nodded, and smiled, nervously running a hand through his hair. "Okay."

"Okay. I want you to close your eyes." He did, automatically.

"That's it. Now, I won't touch you. You are just going to keep them closed. Okay?"

Harry noddded and smiled, warmed by her thoughtfulness. 

"Now I want you to think of a cartoon character. Pick any one you want. You don't have to tell me."

Harry thought hard, remembering a character from a silly show that he and Teddy watched last week. 

"Do you have the character?" Harry nodded. 

"Now I want you to think about the character. Think about how he sounds and what he looks like. What he does. " She paused. "Got it?" He nodded again, enamoured by where this could possibly be going. 

"Okay, now I want you to stop thinking about the cartoon character. Think about anything but the character. I repeat, you are not to think about the cartoon character."

Harry chuckled as he counted the number of times she sad the words "cartoon character." 

"Open your eyes." When he did, he saw Sarah smiling at him. "So, was it hard not to think about it?"

Harry nodded, smiling back, giving Sarah a questioning look. 

"When we tell ourselves that we aren't going to think of something, it becomes very difficult not to think about it, like with your cartoon character. So the more you tell yourself that you are not going to think about these things, the more your life becomes focused on those things. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded. It does make sense.

"This is why we need to work through these things. People don't really "get over" the things that they go through.  Instead, you process through it and learn the skills to cope in healthy ways."

"That makes sense," Harry said. "I think that this whole shame thing is something that I am going to have to work through."

Something sparked in Sarah's eyes, before she looked into Harry's eyes and said, "I certainly agree, Harry. Shame is a terrible thing. When it is believed, it can lead one to a terribly dangerous place."

Harry nodded, his mind full of the image of being in his woods, a train barreling towards him. Rushing wind, hissing wheels. 

"Harry?" Sarah asked. He realized that she had stood up and was reaching her hand down to help him up.

"Together?" She asked.

"Together."

 For the next several days, Harry went through groups listening attentively, and attempting to stay under the radar. He found himself doing much of the same at home, as Severus had been strangely irritable and distant. Harry assumed it was due to work stress and attempted to put it out of his mind. They had already had a couple of mild run-ins, and he did not care for more. 

Instead, he chose to look forward to the upcoming weekend. He planned on meeting Ron and Hermione at the burrow for a fun family day, and later taking Ginny out for a much needed date night. Since Voldemort's demise, Harry had been distant himself, to which Ginny replied with compassion and understanding. He was not the only one who had lost things during the war. This weekend, he was planning on opening up more to his best friends and Ginny, and he anxiously awaited the opportunity. Before the week's end, Teddy came over again, which helped him keep his mind off of things. Before he knew it, it was Friday.

Saying goodbye to his group friends, Harry excused himself to the loo, using its seclusion to apparate home. 

Arriving in the living room, Harry took in the disarray in concern. Severus was known for being meticulous, and it was not like him to have the house in such a state. Quietly entering the kitchen, Harry put the kettle on the stove, subtly looking at Severus who was at the table, papers strewn about and quill in hand. Stealing himself, Harry asked: "Sev?" 

Severus look up questioningly. 

"Care for a cuppa?"

Severus looked back down at his work and shook his head in the negative.  Someone is in a mood again today. Harry thought. It isn't like him to be short. I had better stay in my room for the rest of the day. His mind drifted to a different time. I'll be in my room pretending that I don't exist. Stop it. 

As he absentmindedly set his mug down, he realized too late that he had placed it too close to the counter, watching it tumble to the ground, knocked over by his coat sleeve. He tensed his shoulders, waiting for reprimand. He was not disappointed.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry!" Severus fumed, "How many times do I have to tell you to get your head out of the clouds long enough to think and pay attention to what you are doing? Bloody Gryffindor obliviousness!" Severus ended his rant with a "Harumph," and went back too what he was doing as Harry scrambled to clean up his mess. He did not like it when Severus spoke to  him this way.

The way he used to.

It was only when the kettle went off that he noticed the boy's absence. The kettle sounded eerily similar to a train horn, and Severus went to check on the boy, despite his mood. Entering his bedroom without a knock, he saw the boy sitting on the ground with his back to the door, resting his head on the bed's frame, clutching a pillow. In front of him stood his enchanted window, which was an exact replica of the window Severus had charmed in his room in the dungeons. Seeing the boy's innaction, Severus became annoyed again. "Does Prince Potter care to..." as he rounded the bed, he realized that the boy had, in fact, fallen asleep. 

It was when the boy slept that he looked the least likely able to slay anything, least of all the Dark Lord. Thinking of the vile man caused Severus' mood to sour further, in light of recent events, as he shook the boy's shoulder to wake him up.

"Hm?" The boy mumbled sleepily, and Severus heart shot to his throat as he noticed the boy's white pillowcase stained crimson where the boy clutched it. Grabbing the boy's hands, he saw that it was scratched in several places and covered in blood. Several small glass shards were stuck in the palms, and Severus swore as he summoned a muggle first aid kit. 

The mug. Foolish boy. 

Severus held his hands steady and quickly picked out a piece of glass.

"Ouch! Sev?!" Yelped Harry, looking down and growing sheepish as he realized what was occurring.  

"You cut your hands while cleaning up your mess in the kitchen. Did you not realize you were injured?" He grew more frustrated when the boy did not reply. "And did it not occur to you to use a simple reparo rather than scoop up the mess. Or a broom? Surely Harry Potter can manage a simple spell."

Harry's brows furrowed. "Don't call me that." 

Severus looked down at him, unimpressed. The green eyes looked both wary and defiant. "It's your name. Now answer me." 

Harry looked down again. "I just wanted to fix it. I didn't...I didn't think," he stammered. Severus let out a sarcastic laugh at this and Harry stopped talking, disheartened. "I didn't even notice I was hurt until I came and sat here," he offered. 

"And it did not occur to you then to go into the bathroom and get the first aid kit to clean and bandage your hands? You know where we keep it." 

Harry mumbled incoherently and shrugged.

"SPEAK UP, BOY!" Severus bellowed, enraged. He realized too late that he had used the dreaded apellation frequently used by Harry's poor excuse of an uncle, when Harry's hands quickly left his grasp as the boy flinched, voilently, hitting his head on the bed post. Harry closed his eyes, biting his lip as he attempted not to tear up from the pain. Rubbing his head gingerly, he replied, scarcely above a whisper. 

"I didn't want to make any noise, se..sir. You seemed..." Angry. Volatile. Scary. "...busy and preoccupied lately. I didn't think it mattered. I didn't want to..." he swallowed. "I didn't want to get in the way sir." He looked down at his feet. 

Shit. Severus moved to embrace the boy, but stopped as he was met again with a flinch as Harry scrambled away from him and stood, hovered under the doorframe. He hadn't seen this look in the boy's eyes for quite some time. The look that resembled that of a cornered animal. He cursed himself for bringing it back. 

Lifting his hands up in front of him, as if in surrender, Severus took a step back. "Harry," he began, voice thick with emotion. "I am sorry that I responded earlier in such a way that you felt you had to hole up in your room when experiencing obvious physical..." he paused. "and emotional pain. As a matter of fact, I apologize for every word I have spoken to you today. It's no way to treat somebody you care about." He swallowed, wetting his lips. "It's no way to treat my son." He looked into the boys eyes. "It in no way excuses my actions, but I fear I have been taking out the week's affairs on you."

Severus was encouraged when Harry's tense body began to relax. 

"Of course it matters to me that your hands are bleeding. This is your house to, Harry. You are free to roam about it as you wish. Even if I...even when I am being an arse."

Harry's eyes widened, and he heard a nervous chuckle escape his lips. 

"Now, may I please finish tending to your hands?"

Harry looked at him uncertainly. 

Severus sighed and closed his eyes, letting his guard down completely. "Please, Son. You did nothing wrong. You will not be punished."

Sensing the man's weariness, Harry took a step forward, nodding shakily. They stood in silence as he put salve on the boy's hands and bandaged them up. 

"Sorry Sev," came a small voice, and Severus looked down, feeling his heart ache with self deprecation. Moving slowly, he gently graped each side of the boy's head and kissed his forhead, drawing him into an embrace.

"You did nothing wrong, Harry. It is I who owes you the apology." He was quiet for a moment before adding tiredly, "Let's try again tomorrow." 

Harry nodded into his shoulder. 

That night, Severus vowed to soon tell Harry about the week's events. Harry went to bed with sore hands and a sinking feeling in his gut as he pondered what was going on with his father. 

Monday morning came much too quickly for Harry's liking.

 The weekend had passed enjoyably, spent with his two best friends and his girlfriend. It was one of those weekends that makes you forget about all of your issues and problems. Almost. 

Squinting his eyes against the rays of sun peeking in through the enchanted window in his room, Harry reached over to his night stand blindly before locating his glasses. After changing into a pair of jeans and a plain red shirt, he opened the door and went into the kitchen to have a quick bite to eat. Glancing at his muggle watch, Harry quickened his pace. 

Running late as always. 

Severus sat at the table, the Daily Prophet blocking everything but the top of his head from view. 

"Morning, Sev," Harry said absentmindedly, pouring himself some cereal and milk and fixing himself a cup of coffee. Extra cream. He may like being able to stay awake, but he did NOT enjoy the taste of mud in the morning. 

"Would you like coffee with your cream this morning, Harry?" Severus unexpectedly quipped. He was usually not one to talk much in the morning before having at least two cups of coffee. Harry guessed that it had to do with the overcompensating that the man had been doing for the way he had treated Harry the previous week.

I'll take what I can get, Harry thought sardonically. 

"Oi, you didn't ever look up from the paper," Harry complained. 

"I don't have to," Snape replied in an amused tone. "I know you, Harry."

"Whatever," Harry mumbled in reply, quickly going at his cereal, as not to be late. Chugging down his coffee, he put his dishes in the sink and spelled them to wash themselves and put themselves back in their proper place. 

"Bye Sev!" Harry said over his sholder as he walked out of the room. 

Putting down his paper, Severus looked appraisingly at Harry for the first time that morning. 

"Harry, wait!"

Turning around, Harry raised an eyebrow in question. 

"What group did you say you were in again?"

"Group B, why?" 

"It is of no importance, I merely wanted to test my memory," Severus replied, putting his newspaper back up. "Have a good day."

He is so weird sometimes. 

 _______________________________________

Severus watched the boy leave, a pensive expression on his face. 

Hopefully he doesn't run into any trouble, he thought anxiously. Reaching for his coffee cup, Severus casted a warming spell and took a sip, hoping for the best.

 ____________________________________

 The morning began as it always did for Harry. Walking quickly into his group room, he was pleased to see that not all of the chairs were filled. 

I must have not been the only late riser, he thought to himself. Glancing up at the board, he saw "Harry P." written in black marker and made a mental note of the time beside it so that he would know when to leave group and meet with the psychologist.

As the group began, Sarah went around the room doing, "check ins" as they did every day, asking members to describe their weekends and set a new goal for the day and week. 

Smiling to himself, Harry thought, My goal for the week is to be less barmy and figure out why there has been a stick up Severus' ar...

"Harry? Are you alright?" Sarah asked, bringing him out of his musings.

"Um, sorry, Sarah," Harry responded, cheeks pink. 

Sarah smiled in return and gestured for him to take his turn in presenting his goals to the group. 

"Well, um...I guess for today I could...I haven't been outside much lately. I used to go hiking in the woods all the time at my old boarding school, and fl...play sports," he ended nervously. 

Great job, Harry. Please tell the group how you used to take a broom and fly it into the clouds chasing little golden balls. They would throw you straight into the looney bin after pulling a stunt like that. 

"Very good, Harry. And for the week?" 

Harry thought hard about that one. The weekend had been wonderful. He had spent time with his friends and found out what was going on in their lives. He had been able to get some alone time in with Ginny. Merlin, he had missed her! However, all the while, he had felt a nagging feeling in his gut which pulsed every time that he was asked a question about how he was spending his "break" before beginning his training for the Aurors. 

Swallowing, Harry carefully replied, "I would like to slowly open up more to my friends." Darting his eyes up into Sarah's and back down to his clasped hands, he continued. "They don't know that I'm here. They don't know the reason that I'm here or any of the negative things that I'm going through right now. My girlfriend and best mate don't even know. I reckon I want to work on changing that." Harry finished talking and looked back up at Sarah. She nodded and moved on to the next group member. Harry did not miss the look of pride in her eyes. 

______________________________

Harry left the psychologist's office with direct orders to go to the break room and complete something called a "Personality Assessment Inventory (PAI)." Walking into the sterile eating space, he poured himself a cup of water before finding a seat in the corner of the room and getting to work. 

The questions were quite repetitive, and Harry found his legs shifting restlessly throughout the half hour that it took to complete. 

It's like I'm in school again. Except for no quills. 

Stuffing the pen into his pocket, he went back to the office, knocking on the door tentatively. The man opened the door a crack and smiled warmly at Harry, reaching for the outstreched assessment in Harry's hand.

"I have somebody else in here right now, but let me look through this quickly."

Harry liked the man. He came off as extremely intelligent and had warm, brown eyes, complimented by an honest smile. He reminded Harry a bit of Remus. Harry swallowed and grimaced.

 I miss you, Remmy. Teddy misses you.

"...arry? Harry?"

Harry looked up, startled, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Sir."

"It's David, Harry, remember? Don't worry about it. Look for your name again throughout the week. I will have you come in to discuss the results with me as soon as I have graded this." David looked down though the assessment as he spoke, leafing through it to make sure that it was completed.

As Harry nodded and turned to leave, he was stopped. 

"You forgot your name, Harry!" David called, smiling, causing Harry to come back.

 Harry smiled apologetically. Reaching into his pockets, he realized that the pen he had put away was suddenly missing.

You'd never lose a quill.

"I don't have the pen, si...David. do you think you could write it in for me?"

"Not a problem, Harry. Last name?"

"Potter, sir. Harry Potter." Harry looked into the man's eyes and was pleased to see no spark of recognition appear there. He sensed a quick movement from behind the man, and stole a quick glance behind the man. When he did, he saw a flash of light blond hair, so light that it almost appeared white. 

"Harry, catch!" The wand flying into his hand as he spun around just in time to meet Voldemort's screech of "Avada Kadavra!"

Harry shook himself visibly and realized that he was staring at the silver name plate connected to the dark wooden door of David's office. 

What would Malfoy say if he saw Dumbledore's golden boy now? "Hey scar-head, finally gone around the twist?"

Harry chuckled darkly to himself as he was flooded with self deprecation. 

Oh, how the mighty have fallen, he thought bitterly. 

_____________________________________

The next two groups of the day passed by uneventfully as the group leaders discussed self-help skills and emotional regulation. Harry dutifully took notes, thinking that if everyone in the world were given these skills, it would be a much better place. Perhaps one without war.

When the day ended, Sarah caught up with Harry in the hallway. "Harry, mind waiting around for a little bit before zapping out?" 

Harry smiled and looked around them, nervously. 

"Relax,the hallway is empty," Sarah placated amusedly. "I would like to talk to you about how you plan on opening up more to your friends before you leave. I have another meeting, which should only last for fifteen or twenty minutes. Can you wait around, or do you have somewhere to be?"

"That's fine," Harry replied. "I can just go exploring for a bit. I'll be in front of your office in fifteen minutes."

 "Stay out of trouble," Sarah joked, bustling down the hallway toward her office.

Harry smirked. If only she knew the trouble I got into at Hogwarts. 

 ____________________________________

 After five minutes of sitting in the break room, Harry grew bored. The building appeared to have emptied out pretty quickly, and Harry was sure that he was one of the only patients left in the facility. Deciding to poke around, Harry went from one hallway to the next, turning on lights and peering into the various group rooms, amused that they were all basically carbon copies of each other. 

The last room that he went into on the hallway parallel to his own group room still had a lamp light on, and Harry found himself walking in to turn it off without thinking about it. As he entered the doorway and turned the corner, walking toward the source of light, he froze. 

Written on the whiteboard, slightly illuminated by the dim standing lamp in the corner was one name. It read:

DRACO M.

“…arry? Harry?”

 Harry blinked, realizing that he had been staring at the white board in front of him for Merlin knows how long. Turning around, he met the questioning look of Sarah. 

“What are you doing in here? I’ve been calling your name for a minute or two now.” 

Attempting to respond, Harry found his throat suddenly dry, clearing it before simply running a hand through his hair and shrugging. The truth was that upon seeing Draco’s name, Harry felt as if his brain had been immobilized, replaced by a barrage of images rattling around the inside of his skull.  

That pale, blonde hair flashing from behind a thick, wooden door. Malfoy's determined look as he chucks the Elder Wand through the air. Narcissa behind him, their faces lacking their usual aristocratic stares, relpaced with shell-shocked, strangled pleas.

 His own arm, shooting up, urged on by Adrenalin as it links with Voldemort's. Looking up from the monster's corpse in time to see the Malfoy's retreating backs.

And after this torrent of images comes a tidal wave of denial, which Harry now wrapped around him and clung to like the dark green blanket that Severus gave to him, which is forever resting on his shoulders after days of remembering too much.  

Draco could be anybody. Odd names are 'in' these days, aren't they? There's no way that Draco Malfoy would be in a muggle place like this. Plus, Severus wouldn't let me be humiliated like that...right? Harry shook his head to clear it as images of Snape looming threateningly over him entered his mind. Those years of being berated were over. Sev had made that clear and proven himself. Time and time again.  

Turning to Sarah, Harry quickly apologized, making up an excuse that was neither believed nor questioned, before sitting down and brainstorming ways to tell his friends about what was going on in his life.

________________________________________________________________________ 

Severus removed the blanket draped over his son’s shoulders, tossing it aside. He continued to kneed and soothe those shoulders until he felt the tensed and rigid posture relax. Turning the boy around, he was met with Lily’s emerald eyes, unfortunately accompanied by pinched eyebrows and pursed lips.  

“It will be fine, Harry. These are your friends. They have known you since you were eleven and have, without question, already proven that they will foolishly follow you to the ends of the Earth, all the while admiring and encouraging that reckless Gryffindor bravery.” Severus ended his monologue with a rare smile, before sighing when he was only met with a nervous chuckle and a hand running through hair for the fifth time in ten minutes. 

 “You WILL be fine. I will be just downstairs brewing in my lab. If you find you need me for anything at all, do not hesitate to call.” 

Finally the boy smiled, as his father’s words warmed his heart and somewhat easing his nerves.  “Thanks, Sev. I know it will be. Really.” 

Severus nodded and turned as he heard a tentative knock on the door, signaling that Granger and Weasley had arrived.  

Walking into the hallway towards the door, Harry willed his stomach to settle before stopping when he heard his name called. Turning around, he was met by the concerned, obsidian eyes of his adoptive father. 

“Do not forget that YOU are in control here. You can tell them as much or as little as you wish.” 

Harry nodded and shot Severus an appreciative half-grin before taking another deep breath and answering the door. 

___________________________________________________ 

“Hey-a, Harry!” Ron grins broadly, clasping Harry’s shoulder as he comes through the door. His shock of red hair is surprisingly well kept now that he was spoken for.

Must be Hermione's doing. Harry shook his head ruefully. Speaking of...

“Harry!” She squeals before embracing him in a bone-crushing hug, looking him over despite seeing him less than a week ago. 

She has been spending too much time with her soon-to-be Mother-in-Law. Harry chuckled, meeting Ron’s amused, semi-apologetic grin. 

Harry led his friends over to the dining room where the table was already set for dinner, Butterbeers and all. 

“Oh Harry, it looks delicious, doesn’t it Ron?” Hermione looked over, only to roll her eyes with a smile as Ron nodded, not meeting Hermione’s eyes as he was already in the process of buttering a croissant.

“Some things never change,” Harry said, amused. Ron shrugged, not waiting to dig in. 

….................................................

The evening passed pleasantly, as Harry basked in his friends’ presence. Being with these two has always felt like home. Even during their brief time as nomads, once Severus related that the Horcruxes were wreaking havoc on their emotional stability. Harry almost forgot why he had invited them over, until Hermione asked her next question.

Sitting now in the living room, lounging on the sofa, Hermione looked to Harry who was nursing a Butterbeer. “So, now that we have talked your ear off about wedding details,” she paused and shot Ron a playful glare in response to a loud snort. “What have you been up to? I know that you’ve said that you are waiting on Auror training, so what have you been doing with all of your free time?”

 The question was innocent enough, but to Harry it felt as if somebody had suddenly pulled a wand on him. He felt his hands grow clammy and his heart begin to race as he attempted to look nonchalant.Taking a deep breath, he began to respond.

“Er…well, I guess I have been meaning to talk to you guys about that.” Taking in Hermione’s worried look and Ron’s furrowed brow, he continued quickly. “It’s nothing bad. Well,” he corrected, “It is bad, but it’s a good thing really, and Severus thinks it will help, even though it is muggle, and I have only been going for…” 

“Harry, harry,” Hermione interrupted. Brought out of his verbal spewing, Harry turned his head to his friends who were both regarding him with wide-eyed, confused expressions. 

“We have no idea what you’re on about, mate,” Ron added.

Hermione reached over and squeezed Harry's hands, stopping his fidgeting as he attempted to gather his thoughts and speak coherently. “Right. Sorry,” he replied, cheeks reddening. “Well, I’ve been going through this program for the past couple of weeks. Sort of like the counseling that they had a lot of us go through after the war, except for it’s a bit intensive, and it’s done in groups.” He looked over, somewhat embarrassed, only to be put at ease as he noticed them both giving him their rapt attention, Hermione almost visibly biting her tongue, so as not to interrupt now that he had begun speaking.

“The groups are supposed to simulate a supportive environment where you can speak freely and brainstorm with people that have no idea who you are. You’re all in the same boat, and hearing about other peoples’ lives really just puts things in perspective. I dunno,” Harry finished lamely. “It feels safe….it’s helping I guess.”

Sipping on his Butterbeer, and taking in its strong, sweet flavor, he patiently waited for his friends to respond, attempting not to fidget.

 “I’ve heard of that,” Hermione responded, her eyes narrowed indicating that she was indeed fascinated. “I’ve been wanting to take some courses in psychology. The Wizarding World may have magic, but they are a bit behind when it comes to the study of mental health.” Harry nodded, agreeing, looking next to Ron.

Nodding his head slowly, Ron added, “That sounds alright then. I know that talking to someone helped me after Fred…” he drifted off as Harry and Hermione nodded solemnly. Swallowing, he asked, “So, you just talk about the war? I mean, how does that work? If it’s a bunch of muggles, I mean.”

“Well, I do have to be a bit careful about how I word things and react. If war comes up, I can just relate it to the military. There are a couple of military blokes in my group. The other stuff I can just kind of relate normally, I guess,” Harry explained, not realizing the door he had opened with his last statement.

“Other stuff…?” Hermione questioned delicately.

Harry swallowed before mustering up the courage to continue. He felt like running out of the room. He felt like hiding under the couch pillows. His arms moved before he even gave his actions thought, as he reached over to pull his blanket off of the nearby recliner and around his shoulders. Looking up, he realized that his friends were still waiting for a reply, and attempted to smile at them. They only grew more worried when it came out as an apologetic grimace.

Don't look barmy...don't look barmy...don- 

“It’s okay, Harry,” Hermione comforted.

“Hermione's right.” Ron added, “You can tell us anything.”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. He knew that he could. Like Severus said, these were his friends. “Well, I guess I have been feeling a little overwhelmed,” he began. “But it’s more than that. Like how it was with the…the train.” He paused.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said worriedly, grasping his knee and squeezing. Ron subconsciously scooted closer to his best friend, not wanting to think about a world without Harry in it.

Harry continued, “Severus saw that it was getting bad…you know him. You can’t hide anything from the man. Try having an ex spy as a father!” He laughed and Ron snorted, diffusing some of the tension. “So he set it up. I have talked some about the war, and…Sirius and everything…but it’s also been a bit about…the Dursley’s.”

Ron turned so that he was facing Harry better. “You mean the cupboard, and the food and everything?” Harry looked back, appearing embarrassed, making Ron angry on his behalf. “Those fuc…”

“Ronald!” Hermione interrupted.

“Sorry,” Ron said with a shrug, not looking sorry at all. 

“Yeah,” Harry replied, before quickly adding in, “but there was other stuff too.” He looked at his hands and pulled at the frayed ends of his blanket, trying to soak up the smell of spices and herbs for comfort. 

“Harry, did they hit you? Hurt you physically I mean.” Hermione asked, in her blunt, matter of fact fashion. Harry flinched, providing a fraction of a nod to the affirmative as he heard his other best friend curse under his breath. 

“They…they took out their anger in a lot of different ways. I guess it messed me up a bit more than I had originally thought.” Harry looked up, frightened, as Ron bolted from the sofa and began pacing. 

“Ronald, sit down!” Hermione urged, exasperated.

“Sit down? Sure, I’ll sit down! I’ll sit down after going to Surrey and giving those muggles a piece of my mind. And wand!” He moved towards the fireplace, only to be startled as Harry grasped his sleeve tightly.

“Ron,” Harry squeezed out, as if talking were painful at the moment. “Please stop. They aren’t there.” The last part came out so quietly that Ron had to strain to hear.

Ron stopped, and attempted to calm down. He didn’t see his best mate like this often, and it hurt quite a bit to see his obvious distress. 

“Where are they, Harry?” Hermione asked from behind them, causing Harry to flinch again, as he turned around. When it became clear that he was not going to respond, she prompted again. “Harry?”

“Prison.” Harry replied, eyes still averted. 

“Serves them right!” Ron exclaimed from his place near the hearth.

 Hermione got a look on her face that told Harry she was attempting to put the pieces and Harry silently cursed himself for having such a smart friend. “Harry…” Hermione began, confused. “Did they confess to their crimes against you? Was there evidence? I don’t see how there could have been…” she continued, muttering to herself as she thought aloud. 

Harry looked at his trainers, attempting not to vomit. “The police searched their home and found evidence." Continuing to observe his shoes and pull the blanket tighter around himself, Harry missed the confused look that Ron and Hermione sent  each other over his stooped head.

“Tapes.” Harry replied, quietly. 

“Tapes…” Hermione repeated, her mind running at a mile a minute. She suddenly got a sinking feeling in her gut.

“Why would they tape themselves hurting you, Harry?” Ron asked, his voice not even registering anger in his utter confusion. It just wasn’t making sense. 

“Harry…” she began slowly, not knowing if she wanted to know everything all of a sudden. Her voice trembled as she continued, and a lone tear slid down her cheek. “What were they charged with?”

Suddenly exhausted and numb, Harry walked back across the room and sat on the Sofa, hunching over, staring into the fire. He gave up trying to maneuver words and answered without emotion. “Sexual exploitation of a minor, battery of a minor, neglect…Hell, what weren’t they charged with, Hermione.” He laughed bitterly, roughly swiping his hand over his face and through his hair. It felt as if…well, it felt as if there was nothing. He didn’t feel a thing. 

Tears began to flow down Hermione’s face as she turned to look at her fiancé. He looked as if he wanted to punch something, sick up, and scream simultaneously. Slowly crossing the room, she grabbed his hand and gently pulled him so sit beside Harry on the couch. She then sat on Harry’s other side and slowly put an arm around his shoulder, grasping the top of Ron’s arm. Ron scooted closer to Harry, not knowing what to say. How to respond. How to breathe.

 “Harry…”Hermione began, at a loss for words for once. She paused before starting again, louder. “Harry…” Harry looked up and met her eyes, with a dull expression. “We love you.”

At that, something shifted behind his eyes and he began to cry quietly, the emotion that had left before now coming back full force, coated in relief. A relief that they loved him. That he was still Harry. That they were hurt by all of this, and sitting as close to him as they could possibly get, and not disgusted. Ron looked at the both of them and snaked his hand to rest above Hermione’s on the back of the sofa. “

Yeah,” he attempted to respond around the large lump that had formed in his throat. “Yeah mate, we do.”

 ____________________________________

Severus Snape took in the scene from behind the kitchen door, which was only slightly ajar.

 He was not eavesdropping…and there was not a single tear running down his long, predominate nose. 

Harry awoke somehow clutching his wand, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. His lip was throbbing, and his brain vaguely registered a coppery taste. Images from his nightmare flashed through his mind.

Vernon's fists. Petunia's shrilly voice. Teddy in a cupboard. Wait...Teddy? that was just a dream...a dream? Have to make sure Teddy's safe.

Jumping out of bed in a panic, Harry fell to the floor with his feet twisted in his blankets, not even noticing the bruises that he was sure to sport in the morning. Harry sprinted through the hallway, past Severus’ room and the kitchen, coming to a skidding halt in the living room and nearly landed face-first as his socks slid on the cold wooden floor. Reaching for the floo powder, Harry quickly knelt before the fire and threw a pinch in, heart hammering in his chest. When a minute went by, he nearly flooed over before a voice came through, followed by a familiar head.

“Harry? Is that you?” A sleepy voice asked worriedly.

“Ms. Tonks, where’s Teddy?”

The old woman’s face registered confusion as she tried to grasp what was happening. “What do you mean, dear?”

“Teddy, Ms. Tonks, is Teddy with you?”

“Of course he is, Harry. It’s two o’clock in the morning. He is sound asleep. Are you quite alright?”

“Please check on him,” Harry petitioned, breath still coming in pants.

“Is something happening?” Ms. Tonks asked, alarmed.

“Mrs. Tonks, plea…”

“Harry, I’ve told you to call me…”

“Please,” Harry continued desperately, voice cracking.

With furrowed eyebrows, the kind old woman that had become part of Harry’s family nodded, head disappearing for several moments before returning and confirming that his godson was indeed safe. Taking in the collar of what was certainly a robe, Harry quickly became aware of himself registering the absurdity of his actions.

“Harry, please tell me what is going on,” Ms. Tonks asked in concern. She had grown quite fond of the boy and saw him as a grandson.

With pink cheeks, Harry swiped a hand through his hair and shut his eyes in embarrassment swallowing the lump in his throat. He felt like a five year old that had carried himself with immature panic after a nightmare. “I’m sorry for waking you. I…I had a bad dream, and Teddy was in it crying, locked in a…” Harry paused before continuing. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of how inconsiderate it would be to call you so late.”

“Harry?” When the boy looked up, she continued. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I appreciate you checking up on us. I can assure you that Teddy right as rain, tucked up in bed. I think that you should try to do the same, young man,” she suggested with a mock, stern look.

A hint of a smile played on his face and he nodding, bidding her a quiet, goodnight.
Harry stood up, legs protesting as his body took in the abuse he had put it through in his mad rush to the fireplace. His lip throbbed, and now that his brain had begun to think rationally, he thought that he must have bitten it in his sleep. Walking back to his room, Harry peered into the darkness feeling the echoes of his fear return. Feeling foolish, Harry quickly ran into the room, as if being chased, grabbing his pillow and blankets, before running out a shutting the door behind him.

Standing in the hallway, he weighed his options, knowing where he wanted to go, but hating himself for it.

You're too old to go running to Daddy, potter, he thought in self deprecation.

However, eventually, fear won out and his feet slowly carried him to Severus’ door. Holding his breath, Harry opened the door as quietly as he could manage and crept inside, leaving it cracked in order to make less noise.

In the dark, Harry was reassured to hear his father’s steady breathing and as he saw his form in the bed. Edging around the bed, Harry began laying his pillow and blankets on the floor beside the bed, when suddenly, a voice whispered something in the dark as a light simultaneously blinded him, causing him to jump and let out an unmanly squeak.

“Harry?” Another sleepy voice questioned, and Harry hung his head, feeling bad for causing so much trouble over a stupid nightmare.

“Hey dad,” Harry whispered back, as he watched the man sit up and swing his feet towards the side of the bed that he stood.

“What are you…” Severus began before his brain began to wake up and he took in his surroundings. “You had a nightmare?" He questioned instead. Harry hadn’t come to him in the night for a while now, although it had once been a weekly occurrence after the defeat of the Dark Lord.

Harry shyly looked at his father, and when seeing no anger or judgment, he nodded contritely. “Yeah, I’m sorry, dad. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just…” when both he and his father looked at his makeshift bed on the floor, he simply gestured towards it, face reddening a bit.

“There is no reason to be embarrassed. You know that I prefer you to wake me up if you have nightmare and cannot fall back to sleep.” With that, Severus stood up. “Wait here a moment,” he instructed, slipping into his bathroom and returning a moment later with what appeared to be a wet washcloth. Walking around the bed, Severus gestured for Harry to come closer, gently reaching to cup his chin with one hand. “You did quite a number on your lip.” He remarked absentmindedly, gently dabbing away blood that had dried on his son’s chin.

Harry began to reply, but thought better of it as he winced, despite his father’s gentle actions.

“It is not a surprise that you had a nightmare tonight after your visit with Weasley and Granger.”

As his father banished the washcloth and summoned a salve, Harry smiled to himself, thinking that Severus would probably drop dead before calling his friends’ by his given name. “Yeah. I should have thought about that. I was really tired though.” His father nodded and put some salve on his thumb, stroking it onto Harry’s abused lip.

“Your aunt and uncle, I presume?” Severus asked quietly as he capped the salve and set it on his dresser.

Harry fidgeted. “Teddy too.”

Severus’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he turned to look at his son.

“That is…I mean…” Harry stuttered, “He was locked in a cupboard.”

Severus eyes flashed at the word and he mumbled to himself before reigning in his temper. Harry warmed at the response, realizing that it was quite nice to have someone who would wake up in the early morning without complaint, patch him up, and be angry on his behalf, without even being asked. He chuckled to himself.

At his father’s raised eyebrow, he related his mad dash to the floo and nearly scaring Ms. Tonks out of her curlers. “She must have thought I was nutters,” Harry ended, laughing in earnest now.

Severus shook his head, amused. “Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked, knowing that while Harry was laughing about it all now, he had been too afraid to go back to sleep in his own bedroom. 

I can't blame the boy. The Dursley's are a vicious bunch, he thought darkly.

“No. I think you were right. It was just the aftermath of talking about everything.”

Severus nodded and went around the side of the bed, sitting down on it. “Alright. Well, get in then,” He said non-chalantly.

“What?” Harry squawked, voice high and ears burning.

“Come to bed. It’s quite late, you know, and although it is the weekend, we should get some rest.”

“But..I can’t sleep with you. I’m too old!” He explained, voice still a bit on the high end.

Severus raised an eyebrow unimpressed. “You are MY son. You are never too old to receive some comfort after a nightmare. “ Looking down at the bundle on the floor, he continued. “Furthermore, you are NOT an owl. I would prefer you not nest on the floor of my bedroom when there is a perfectly comfortable and large bed right here.” He punctuated his last word with a pat on the bed. When Harry continued to look at him in undisguised embarrassment, he sighed. “Do you wish to return to your room?”

At that, Harry’s eyes widened fractionally and he shook his head quickly and made a step toward the bed. To lessen his embarrassment, Severus picked up a book off of his nightstand and opened it, adjusting his back on the headboard as he felt the bed dip. As Harry sat down uncertainly, Severus grabbed a small pillow and set it on his lap. Harry smiled and some of his embarrassment bled away as he scooted down and slowly lowered himself to lay down. Severus took Harry’s wand from where is was sticking out of his pocket and used it to levitate a blanket off of the floor and onto his son, before placing it on the nightstand and turning a page in his book.

“Dad?” Harry spoke, his eyes resting on the flannel pant leg of his father.

“Hm?” His father murmured shifting his book to peer at the top of his son’s head.

“Can Teddy visit tomorrow?”

“Of course,” his father replied, without hesitation.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled, content, basking in the calm of the moment. Harry continued to think about how much he had now compared to the life he had just dreamed about at Private Drive.

“Thanks, Sev,” Harry said again without thought, for the second time.

“For what do you feel the need to thank me for now?” Severus questioned, the corner of his lip betraying the beginning of a smile.

“For all of the stuff you did tonight. For making me feel…” He paused, not wanting to be too cheesy, as half a dozen words rested on the tip of his tongue.

Severus heard them all nonetheless, and moved his hand to rest on Harry’s head, carding his fingers through sweaty, black hair. “That’s what father’s are for,” he replied simply, before dimming his light and setting the book on the table. He continued to smooth out his son’s hair until he was certain the boy was asleep, and then carefully maneuvered his head and pillow onto the bed, laying down himself. Kissing the top of his son’s head, he soon fell asleep himself.

The next week found Harry being exceptionally quiet. Between his off and on nightmares, his father’s strange behavior, telling his friends about his past, and planning on somehow telling his girlfriend, Harry was spent. He did tell Sarah about his success in opening up first thing Monday morning, to which she praised him and ruffled his already crazy hair.

His silence, it would appear, couldn’t last.

“This next exercise is a bit of a doozy,” Sara said, addressing the room. “We are going to have one brave soul participate with us in this exercise, and the rest of us will help them along in facing the lies that they are allowing themselves to believe about themselves, modeling our own self-talk. Are there any volunteers?”

Harry slouched down further in his seat, fully aware that although therapeutic, the exercises usually done during this block of time in treatment are anything but fun. Looking around, Harry inwardly smirked as the rest of his peers seemed to be doing the same thing.

“…maybe somebody we haven’t heard from much this week? How about...,” Sarah continued to look around the room, before her eyes landed on Harry. “Harry, you’ve been making great progress and have been rather quiet this week. Come on over.”

Harry considered disagreeing. This won’t end well. But…you were Gryffindor for a reason. You’ve faced worse. Buck up, Potter. Taking a deep breath, Harry stood up.

“Okay, somebody help me move this chair to the middle of the room.”

Harry watched as one of the guys slid the chair up to where Sarah was indicating and the class spread out in their chairs around it. On second thought…

As if sensing he was on the verge of backing out, Sarah came next to him and guided him towards the chair, moving to stand in the corner near the board when he was seated.

“Thank you, Harry, for stepping up,” She praised, smiling at him.

Blushing nervously, Harry merely nodded, prompting her to continue.

“In our lives, we are told countless amounts of things about ourselves, both directly and indirectly. We are told these things by our families, our peers, our actions, and our self-talk. Strangely enough, the negative things appear to stick around more often and easily than the positive and affect the way that we view ourselves and relate to the world around us. If you are told something enough, you eventually believe it.” Looking around and receiving several nods and knowing looks, Sarah continued. “Today, I am going to ask you to evaluate and challenge those beliefs. Now that you have all been here for about a month and worked through quite a number of things together, I am going to go around the room and ask you each to share one item or more that has contributed the most to these negative and sabotaging beliefs. Who would like to go first?”

  The room was silent, before Warren raised his hand.

“Yes, Warren.”

“Well,” Warren hesitated, glancing up at Sarah and quickly scanning the room. “You all know that I am in the military and was active duty.” Several people nodded, before he continued. “You all know that I was in combat as well. I can’t sugar coat it. I killed people. So, coming back here and being a civilian,” he gestured to himself, his hands sweeping his attire, gray sweat pants, black plain t-shirt and navy athletic shoes. “It doesn’t all fit together. I can’t help looking around every now and then and thinking, what are you doing here…in this grocery store…pushing a shopping cart with the same hands that once held a military-grade weapon that ended another man’s life. You’re not normal. You’re a…killer.”

Harry swallowed, empathizing with the man, before breaking the silence.

 “You’re not, you know,” he said, speaking out before realizing he was going to.

Warren laughed dryly, self-depracation apparent.

“No, really,” Harry persisted. “It’s war. I’ve been in it. It’s chaos, and noise, and adrenaline. You’re just trying to survive and doing what you’ve been put there to do. The fact that you feel regret for these people that were trying to kill you. These people that you were trained to be ready to enter combat with if necessary. That’s you. That’s who you are too. That’s the biggest part of you, the part that’s the most human and that you should focus on. We do what we can. And the rest…” Harry paused. “The rest we live with. The events may have changed you, but they don’t define you. You’re still Warren…the goofy guy that tries to help us and calls us out when we have pity parties.”

The group laughed and Warren shook his head smiling, wiping his eye with his hand. “Thanks, man,” he said chucking.

Harry nodded with a crooked smile.

“See,” Sarah said, breaking through the mood and quiet murmuring. “Sometimes, it takes other people to break us from the lies that we have allowed ourselves to believe over time. They can see things differently than we can. I’m sure Harry,” she began, addressing him. “You have no doubt felt the same way as Warren and believed the same thing about yourself. Probably recently.”

Harry looked at her, sobering. “Yeah…” He replied.

“But calling yourself a killer and being weighed down by all of that guilt…it doesn’t make sense for Warren, does it?”

“No,” Harry replied immediately.

“It doesn’t make sense for you, Harry, either, does it?”

Harry paused.

“No,” Warren replied, voice sure and loud. Harry turned towards him, looking into his eyes and seeing a certainty there that gave him strength. Biting his lower lip and feeling naked, Harry turned back to Sarah.

“No,” he replied quietly, not quite ready to reply as emphatically. It’s a start.

“And that,” Sarah stated,” is what today is about. “Time to begin.”

 ____________________________________________________________ 

“Harry, I want you to think of five  things that you have been told about yourself that continue to shape who you see yourself as today,” Sarah prompted.

Harry swallowed, insides feeling like mush and butterflies. Killer, freak, dirty, unlovable, burden, shame, shame, shame. You like it. You’re not enough. You’re nothing. The boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs with nobody and no one, good for nothing but se…”

He thought about it for several minutes, staring at the ground before looking back up at her. “Okay,” he said.

“What are they?” She asked patiently.

Harry squirmed in his chair.

“You can do this,” she encouraged. “Name the event.”

“The war too, I guess,” he said, quietly, nodding towards Warren who nodded as well.

“And the message?” Sarah asked.

“The same. Killer. It being my fault for people dying.”

“Okay,” Sarah continued, grabbing a marker and writing on the board.

IT’S YOUR FAULT.

KILLER.

“Is that all,” she prompted, knowing that it wasn’t.

Harry took a deep breath and looked at his dark blue jeans, playing with a frayed piece on his thigh. “The abuse, I suppose,” he responded, feeling as if she were pulling his heart out of his mouth. “All of it.” His peers looked at him, some only for a second, knowing it was difficult for him.

“Okay…” she encouraged. “Okay, good. Now what are some messages that you got from that or some things that you were told directly?”

“That I was unlovable,” he began. “Am unlovable. That I’m a freak. That I…” he paused, hearing the man’s voice in his ear. Almost still feeling his warm breath hitting his sweaty hair. “That I liked it,” he finished, feeling like vomiting.

“Harry?” Sarah said, voice filled with concern. “Look at me, please.”

Harry continued to stare at his thighs, breathing quickly, before jerking to rub his ear and hair. He was close to bolting.

“Harry.” Sarah tried again, loudly and firmly. Harry’s head jerked up towards her. “Stay with us okay?”

Harry nodded, realizing that there was now more on the board.

IT’S YOUR FAULT

KILLER

YOU ARE UNLOVABLE

FREAK

YOU LIKED IT

Harry quickly tuned his head, unable to face the last one.

“Are you okay to continue?” Sarah asked.

Harry looked up at her and nodded.

“Okay. I want you,” she said, pointing to Kaitlyn, “to take the first statement. “You,” she indicated, continuing, “the second. You, two the third. You the fourth, and you two the fifth. You all going to say these things at the same time to Harry until I tell you to stop. Harry, ready?”

Harry looked to her, trying to remain calm and appear collected. “Mhm,” he replied, not trusting his voice. Oh bloody fuck.

“Go,” Sarah instructed.

They began, and the room was filled with a chorus of voices spouting Harry’s deepest shames. They were being said fairly quietly, but to Harry, they were shouting.

“KILLER, FREAK, YOUR FAULT, UNLOVABLE, YOU LIKED IT. YOU LIKED IT. YOU LIKED IT.”

The last one stood out among the rest, violently, and in his mind he saw his uncle’s large, red face saying the same. He shook his head to clear it, closing his eyes as it continued, his hand going into his hair. It continued on for what was only a minute but felt like several, and he yanked at his hair, trying to remain in the present.

“Stop,” Sarah instructed and it became silent. “Harry, open your eyes, and look around the room.”

Harry opened his eyes, letting go of his hair, and a tear escaped.

“Take a deep breath, Harry.” Sarah instructed. “Good, now another.” Harry followed her instructions and felt the fuzziness in his head die down. He couldn’t keep eye contact, so he stared back down at his jeans. “Now, I want each of you to speak up and say how you feel about Harry and the belief that you were assigned,” Sarah said to the group.

Harry looked up in disbelief, feeling a tendril of betrayal in his gut. How could she ask them to say that? They’re going to say I’m…

“Harry?” One of the group member’s began, pulling his attention away from his thoughts. He glanced up at her surprised. She was one of the younger members, a couple years older than himself, and rarely spoke. Kailey, he thought her name was. He stared at her, transfixed, causing her to blush. “You…none of that is true. I’ve only known you for a little while, but you’re kind, and gentle…”

“No more of a killer than I am, and it’s not your fault that people died. It’s war.” Warren finished from next to her.

She looked at him gratefully.

“And you’re not a freak, young man,” said an elderly gentleman next to them, the oldest in the group often disagreeable or napping. “You’re a healthy and normal young man who has had awful things happen to him, similarly to the lot of us. I don't know exactly what hapened to you, but calling yourself a freak..or someone calling you that. That's bullshit. If we aren’t freaks, then you aren’t either." He looked at Harry with stern compassion, and Harry felt his insides warm, not expecting such emotion from the man.

“There’s no way in hell you’re unlovable, kid,” said a man who reminded Harry of Sirius, about the age that he would have been. “If my son grows up to be like you, I’ll be proud and have had done something right. It is amazing that you came out such an incredibly special young man."

Harry blinked stupidly, staring at him, overwhelmed by everyone’s words.

“You didn’t like it Harry,” Sarah finished.

Harry looked towards her, anxiety hitting him once again and stomach dropping.

“You were a child. You had no family to confide in. No choice in the matter. You were taken advantage of in an awful way. Even if your body reacted, you are not at fault. You are not dirty or tainted and you are not a product of what was done to you. You are an amazing boy who had no say in the matter. That shame in guilt is not yours, Harry.” Murmurs of agreement broke out throughout the room. “Okay?” Sarah finished, waiting for a response.

Harry looked around the room and gained stregth from those that looked back at him, earnest eyes, full of conviction. Glancing up at Sarah and seeing the fire in her eyes, he replied simply.

“Okay.”