Chloe received a text from Hermione the next day.
[H.G.: Chloe, I hope I’m not disturbing you. Thank you for your help yesterday. Not just me, Harry, Andromeda, and all the Weasleys are grateful. Molly keeps talking about inviting you to lunch or dinner, and Teddy and Victoire have both been mentioning you. I think the circumstances that night made them attach to you. Could you find a little room in your schedule for us?]
Chloe hesitated for a long time before texting back her thanks and accepting.
After replying to Hermione, she immediately messaged Michael.
[C: Hermione Granger is inviting me to dinner on behalf of the Weasley family.]
[M:! Any chance I could come?]
[C: Nope. Do you think they’ll find a Muggle restaurant, or will it be at the Burrow?]
[M: I’m hoping the Burrow… Can you take some pictures for me? I’ve never been, I’ve always wanted to go, but boo hoo… they never invite me.]
Chloe laughed out loud and rolled her eyes at her phone.
A little while later, it buzzed again in rapid succession.
[M: Merlin! They invited me too! Said it’s to thank me for my help last night! I’m hoping it’s the Burrow! I really hope it’s the Burrow!]
[C: Are you serious? That’s going to be a nightmare. I’d have to pretend I know nothing about the wizarding world, put up with all the gaps when wizards try to pass as Muggles, and on top of that pretend I don’t even know you!]
[M: Who cares! It’s the Burrow!]
Chloe saw Harry on Thursday afternoon.
They hadn’t set a specific time.
By the time Harry arrived at the consulting room, the sky had already grown dim, and Chloe had nearly given up on expecting him that day.
“Sorry.” Harry looked a little flustered, the collar of his trench coat askew, his whole manner hurried.
“I didn’t mean to come this late. I just got so busy I lost track of time.”
Chloe set down her paintbrush.
She hadn’t lied to Harry, Thursday afternoons really were her time for painting.
She gave him a reassuring smile and shook her head.
“It’s all right, Mr. Potter. I’m very glad to see you.”
Harry gave a slightly stiff nod and settled into the same seat as last time.
He looked at the coffee table in front of him.
The arrangement was almost identical to his first visit, with one difference: the camellias in the vase had been replaced with a fresh batch.
A vague feeling stirred in him, as though this place had been waiting for him.
Expecting him.
“Something to drink?” Chloe asked softly.
“Uh… anything is fine… actually, I don’t really need anything.” Harry glanced at her, a little self-conscious.
Harry had actually planned this several days in advance, he would come back for another session this Thursday afternoon, even though part of him still resisted the idea.
He owed her that.
Especially after the way he’d failed to cooperate at their first meeting.
He had already vaguely felt it was rude of him then, and after seeing Chloe shield Teddy in the fire, that vague feeling had solidified completely into guilt.
The guilt lodged in his chest like a thorn, pricking at his heart every now and then.
Chloe placed a cup of hot tea beside him.
“I hope you don’t mind tea at this hour — will it affect your sleep?”
“No.” Harry answered immediately.
As if to prove it, he picked up the cup and took a small sip.
Chloe observed him without letting it show.
He still looked visibly uncomfortable, body stiff, arms tense.
She could tell he had come here under some duress.
“Well, shall we get started. I’m sorry, I’ve already taken up a lot of your time.” Harry set the cup back down, folded his hands together, and managed a strained smile.
“How about we continue coloring today?”
Harry blinked, looking a little confused.
“Because I have the feeling you’re not here out of a genuine desire for a session, Mr. Potter.” Chloe reached under the table and brought out colored pencils and a coloring book.
“I think I have some sense of what’s going through your mind. Whatever your reasons, I’m very grateful you were willing to show up here today.”
“But, Mr. Potter — I don’t want this to feel like a burden. I don’t want you forcing yourself to sit here and release pain.”
“What I want to do, and what I need to do, is see your wounds, and then slowly tend to them. I want you to feel at ease. I don’t want to become someone who adds to your pain.”
Her expression was gentle and sincere, her tone steady and calm.
Harry couldn’t put his feelings into words, but he could genuinely sense that the unease and restlessness hovering over him lately had eased considerably.
Chloe waited until she saw Harry’s shoulders slowly relax, then handed one of the coloring books across to him.
“We can just color together for a while and let yourself unwind.” She gave a small smile.
“And in the meantime, you’re very easily earning me this session fee.”
Harry gave a light laugh and took the coloring book.
“What scene would you like to color today?” Chloe asked.
Harry didn’t do what he had last time, he didn’t simply open to the first page.
Instead, he slowly leafed through, looking.
“This one.” He showed her the page.
It was a child’s bedroom: floral curtains, plush toys, a blanket that looked wonderfully soft.
Every detail warm and cozy.
Chloe turned to the same page in her own book.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Just the quiet scratch of colored pencils on paper.
“This picture reminded me of something.” Harry was the first to break the silence.
He was gazing at the plush toy in the drawing, and his expression had gone soft.
“I should buy Teddy some new toys. It’s probably been about two weeks since I last got anything new. Teddy loves that soft, fluffy kind — always sleeps hugging them.”
“I have a younger brother,” Chloe replied, half truthfully.
“When he was little, there was a small bear that went everywhere with him. It ended up getting destroyed, and the crying lasted a whole week.”
The first half was true.
As for the second half, that bear had been accidentally destroyed by her own flames, and the reason Michael cried for an entire week wasn’t only because of the bear.
It was also because Maria and Rox had been fighting all that week.
Harry looked up, something like amusement crossing his face.
“When Teddy was small, I actually lived with Teddy for a time. Every night, Teddy would grab hold of my hair to fall asleep. Every morning before work I had to rescue my hair from those little hands.”
Chloe glanced at Harry’s somewhat disheveled but thick hair.
“Sounds like Teddy still went easy on you.”
The mood lifted.
When Harry talked about Teddy, the words came freely.
He was enthusiastic about sharing every small moment of Teddy’s growing up, from when Teddy first learned to crawl and disappeared under the bed, sending Harry into a frantic search, all the way to now, when Teddy had grown quite shy and didn’t seem to like being kissed on the forehead as much anymore.
Chloe listened carefully, chiming in from time to time, watching this Harry Potter she had never seen before, so completely different from the Savior Michael had described.
She could sense that Harry was comfortable here, in this version of himself.
Perhaps because in these stories, Harry wasn’t the Savior.
Just a godfather with no real experience, fumbling his way through.
“You love Teddy very much,” Chloe said softly.
The corner of his mouth pulled into something bitter.
“I… because… Teddy lost both parents so young. And those parents died for me.” His eyes grew dim.
“I’m the one responsible for making Teddy an orphan, and yet I’ve had the nerve to take the position of godfather.”
“No matter how much I love Teddy, it can never make up for what was lost.”
Chloe knew the story of Tonks and Remus Lupin.
Michael had once spoken about that love with feeling, a love that crossed prejudice and age, only to reach such a heartbreaking end.
Survivor’s guilt.
She settled on a diagnosis quietly, in her own mind.
Harry felt guilty for having survived the war.
It was a response to severe trauma.
Harry had already begun attributing the deaths of everyone who fell in the war entirely to himself.
She wasn’t surprised.
Across their limited interactions, she had already sensed just how sensitive he was, and how easily guilt took root in him.
She couldn’t attempt to address it yet.
Everything she knew had come from Michael, Harry had never told her directly about how Tonks and Remus Lupin had died.
“But the love you give Teddy is more than enough, Mr. Potter.” Chloe held his gaze.
“You, and the people around you, have given Teddy enough love to grow up well. Teddy will carry the benefit of that love for the rest of a life.”
“So…” Harry hesitated.
“From a professional standpoint… would you say I’m passing as a godfather so far?”
“Absolutely.” No hesitation.
“That night, Teddy ran to you first. You are Teddy’s source of safety. You are a wonderful godfather, Mr. Potter.”
Only in that moment did Harry truly understand that he had been anxious all along.
He had always fretted that he wasn’t doing enough for Teddy, wasn’t good enough at it.
He didn’t want to replace Remus Lupin and Tonks.
He only wanted to do his best to fill in the love they would have given Teddy.
“Dr. Aiken.” Harry leaned back into the sofa, some of the tension finally gone.
“The things you say are always very convincing.”
“That’s a very high compliment.” Chloe’s eyes curved into a smile.
“Then take my advice: no work when you get home tonight. Just rest. Maybe go and see Teddy — and on your way back, pick out some gifts.”
Harry looked down with a quiet smile and nodded slowly.
“I still stand by what I said. You really have convinced me.”
They hadn’t finished the coloring, but Harry’s footsteps were lighter as he left.
“Mr. Potter, is there anything you’d like to drink next time?” Chloe asked the same question she had asked at the end of their first session.
This time, there was no silent departure.
Harry thought it over for a moment, then answered.
“Actually, I’m quite fond of juice. Pumpkin juice, especially.”
“Excellent taste, Mr. Potter.” Chloe’s lips curved slowly into a smile.
“Until next time, then.”
“Until next time.” A pause.
Then he added, “You can call me Harry, Dr. Aiken.”
“You can call me Chloe, Harry.”
“…All right. Until next time, Chloe.”
➤ Next: Thursday Evening