The Couch

The couch

Harry had been sitting in silence for the better part of half an hour, pulling on the thread of the couch upon which he sat. He was feeling uncomfortable in this small room, unsure what it was that made him relent into coming here. She sat silently opposite him, not asking anything, just waiting.

"I don't know what it is you want me to say," he finally spoke.

Rae smiled softly. "I want you to say whatever it is you want to say. Whatever you want to tell me about, I'll hear it."

He met her eyes. She was sitting still, her dark hair pulled back from her face, parchment and quill at the ready on her knees.

"What's the point? Talking about it doesn't change it. I can tell you things - my godfather died, Cedric died, my parents died, my life is constantly in danger - but what's the point? You already know all of those things anyway. Talking does nothing to change what I've done and ... what I have to do," he spoke in a strangely detached voice.

She didn't miss the small allusion he gave, but decided to not pursue it at the moment. She put the parchment aside and leaned forward slightly. "You're right, Harry. I do know about those things already. But hearing them from you and hearing them from Dumbledore are two completely different things. If you want me to help you, you're gonna have to talk to me."

Harry looked angrily at her. "I never asked for your help! Who said I needed any help - I'm just fine, thank you very much."

She leaned back in her chair, not at all deterred by his outburst. Deciding on a different tack, she said, "So, tell me about your friends."

After a few moments, a ghost of a smile crossed Harry's features. "They're amazing - both of them. Hermione is so ridiculously smart, it makes me sick sometimes. And Ron, he is the funniest person I know. He can always lighten the mood."

Harry paused, but Rae didn't say anything, knowing Harry would continue talking if she left him alone.

"It's no exaggeration to say I wouldn't be here without them," he continued. "They've saved my life, both figuratively and literally. I don't know what I'll do without them..."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What you'll do? Why do you say that?"

Harry looked up, his body tensing, seemingly just aware of what it was he actually said. His mouth had run away with him and he became acutely aware that he had just spoke in the future tense. He didn't know how to reply to her question - should he speak the truth to a psychologist he had only known for ... a grand total of an hour and a half when he couldn't say the same thing to his two best friends, whom he had known for five years.

"Harry?"

"I ... I can't..." he stammered, shaking his head slightly.

"Okay," she said hastily, smiling warmly at him. "It's okay, we'll leave that for another day, shall we?"

He nodded gratefully.

"So how long have you known each other?"

"Um ... about five years."

"How did you meet?"

"We met on the Hogwarts Express. Ron and I shared a compartment on the train and have been friends ever since. We met Hermione that day too, but we didn't like each other very much," he smiled, reliving the memory in his head. "We became friends a few months later and it's been the three of us ever since."

"Do you love them?"

Harry was thrown by this personal question, asked in the same neutral tone she used to enquire about how they met and how long they had known each other. In his heart, he knew the answer to the question. But saying it out loud ... it was a dangerous thing. He looked up and found her looking at him, her eyebrow raised encouragingly.

"They're my family," he said quietly.

"That's not an answer," she replied, though her eyes were sparkling slightly.

"It's the only one you're going to get," he smiled.

She returned his smile and they lapsed back into silence

After a long while, Rae said, "So did you want to talk about Sirius?"

Harry stared at a spot on the floor, his vision unfocused, as he shook his head. He wasn't ready yet.

"Cedric?"

Harry shook his head.

"You-Know-Who?"

Harry hadn't even bothered to stop shaking his head in the negative.

"Okay," she said gently. "How's school going?"

Harry looked up at this abrupt change of subject. She was looking at him expressionlessly and Harry almost laughed at how she could go from Sirius to Cedric to Voldemort to school in the space of a minute.

"It's fine. Busy, but fine."

"Good," she smiled. She glanced at her watch. "Did you want to leave it there for today, Harry?"

"Okay," Harry happily agreed.

He rose from his seat, as did Rae. But before he could move too far, she motioned for him to sit back down, before joining him on the couch.

"Harry, I know that Dumbledore was the one who set these sessions up and that you don't really want to be here. But you have been through a lot these last few years, and have experienced more traumas than most people go through in their whole lives. And you need to start dealing with your past, otherwise your future might not turn out the way you hoped."

She had kept eye contact with him, and Harry felt a lump rising in his throat at her words. Having someone else voice the facts that he knew in his heart was surreal, yet oddly gratifying - maybe he wasn't just overreacting after all.

"And you know you can say anything to me without fear of it getting back to anyone else. So if you want to rant about your teachers or complain about your friends or unload about how annoying Dumbledore is, feel free. It doesn't always have to be about the 'big' things in life. If you ever just need a sympathetic ear, I can help you. Okay?"

He nodded slightly, though still not entirely sure if he could trust her.

"So I'll see you on Wednesday - six o'clock?" she confirmed.

Harry nodded again. They both stood up and Harry gave her a small smile as a goodbye. Rae watched Harry walk out of the room, blissfully unaware that in his mind, Harry was debating whether or not he would return for another session.