Psycho-Babble

Psycho-Babble

Dr Rei Faraday

Hogwarts School Counselor

Harry Potter looked at the words on the door of the new school counselor and sighed. So I choose to do the detention, and McGonagall makes me come here anyway, he thought to himself as he knocked on the door. If I had at least got Malfoy with that hex, it would have been worth it.

As he opened the door and walked into the room, the young witch behind a desk looked up from an extremely thick file labelled 'Potter, Harry' and smiled at him warmly.

"Hello Mr Potter," she said, "Come, sit down."

Harry chose instead to stand.

"Okay, before you say anything else, I just want to make a few things clear," said Harry, his annoyance starting to surface. "I did the detention so I didn't have to come here. I suppose that McGonagall or Dumbledore think that I need to talk about my feelings and everything that's happened or something. Well I do, to people who know me and what I've been through and who I trust. You are not one of those people. I don't need to talk to you. I don't need your advice. I don't need you to psycho-analyse me, to pity me, to attempt to understand me or whatever it is that you are trying to do. I don't need you."

If Faraday was shocked or insulted, she didn't show it. She put down Harry's file and rested her chin on steepled hands, looking at Harry thoughtfully.

"Nobody said that you needed me. You seem to have gotten along perfectly fine without me until now, and I'm sure that you would continue to without me. But, since this is the punishment that Professor McGonagall has prescribed for you, you are stuck here with me for half an hour whether you like it or not, so you might as well sit down. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but if you do, I'm here to listen." She looked back down at Harry's file again. "You have been through a lot these past five years," she said softly.

Harry sat down, but refused to meet her eyes, not wanting to see the pity that he saw in the eyes of many others in Hogwarts. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

"Well then, what do you want to talk about?"

Harry thought about this for a moment before answering.

"Let's talk about you," he said, looking up and into Faraday's eyes defiantly.

"Me?" For the first time, Faraday seemed surprised.

"Yes," Harry answered, congratulating himself on his idea. "If I'm going to get sent here to be psychoanalysed every time I have a detention, I should at least know a little about who I'm talking to."

Faraday seemed amused and a little impressed by his request. "Okay then. Well... I'm afraid my life hasn't been quite as exciting as yours. I'm muggle-born. My father is a surgeon, my mother is a famous pianist; my brother is a star Qidditch player. It's hard, sometimes, living up to a family like them. I used to go to this school," she said, looking around her affectionately. "I was a Hufflepuff. Didn't really have much skill for magic though. I barely managed to pass all my exams. After leaving Hogwarts, I went to a muggle college and got my degree in psychology. Then Dumbledore kindly offered me a job here."

Harry nodded, feeling his initial anger at having to come here fading, and starting to warm towards this witch despite himself. Looking at the pictures in frames on her desk, he saw a couple smiling and laughing, and another of a wizard a bit older than Faraday, wearing Quidditch robes, holding a broomstick in one hand, his other arm wrapped in a headlock around a laughing Faraday.

"Is that your brother?" he asked, pointing at the picture.

Faraday smiled and nodded.

Harry opened his mouth to ask her if she liked Quidditch too, but was interrupted by a timid knock on the door. Faraday called out to the person to come in, and two first year Hufflepuffs entered the room. One had her long blond hair in two plaits, and was sobbing uncontrollably, the other held her hand, looking troubled.

"Excuse me, are you the new school counsellour?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," said Faraday, moving quickly from behind the desk to the crying girl. She kneeled down so that they were on the same level, her face concerned. "What happened?"

The blond girl rubbed her eyes and sniffed a few times, then ventured a wet and wobbly reply.

"H-he's just s-so m-m-m-mean!" she exclaimed, and burst into sobs again.

Faraday's face darkened. "Who's so mean dear?" she asked, though from her face, Harry thought that she knew the answer.

The other girl answered for the blond one, who was hiccuping too much too speak coherently.

"Professor Snape, Miss. He..."

"He called me a dunderhead!" cried out the blond girl, through angry tears. "And he said I was a useless, pathetic worm, and that I should give up any hope of ever passing Potions!"

Faraday stood up, anger showing on her face, muttering to herself, "That jerk! That's the third one this week! Why does he have to be so cruel to these children?"

Then she noticed Harry, who was still sitting in his chair, watching the whole performance. She glanced at a clock sitting on her mantlepiece above the fireplace.

"Harry, your time is about up, so you can go now. Come back and talk to me if you need to."

Harry nodded and got up from his chair. As he passed to sniffling blonde first year, he bent down and said to her, "Snape is just a sad, bitter human being, who takes out his anger on innocent people who happen to get in his way. He's a git, his opinion doesn't count, so don't listen to any insults he throws at you."

Harry Potter

Session One 6^th June 1996

He is a complicated one. It seems past experiences have made him suspicious and untrusting of people he meets. He's quick to anger, seems to feel that no one can understand him. He's a private person by nature it seems, so it will be hard to get him to trust and talk to me openly. I hope that he is telling his feelings to somebody, if it's not me. Emotions kept inside could tear him apart.

Note to self: Find Severus Snape and confront him about the number of crying first-years coming to me after his Potions lessons