01
“Did Harry Potter come to you for counseling?”
Michael had barely finished selecting the wine before the question was out of his mouth.
Protecting client privacy is a fundamental quality of any psychologist, so Chloe simply narrowed her eyes at him and said nothing.
George Weasley becoming her patient, she had never told Michael about that either.
Michael only found out by having lunch with Percy and the others at the Ministry of Magic and hearing it from Percy.
Fortunately, Michael hadn’t been so visibly shocked at the time that gave away the nature of their relationship.
“It has to be him. I saw the boss come back this afternoon carrying a rolled-up paper, and the ribbon on it was one I bought for you. And the way it was tied — you always use that particular knot.”
Michael pursed his lips, stating it as fact.
“You wizards really should have someone go to a Muggle school and learn something about psychology.” Chloe sighed, which was as good as an admission.
“Otherwise Hermione Granger wouldn’t have had to use terrorist attacks and unrest in other countries as her excuse.”
“You saw Hermione Granger too?” Michael looked genuinely interested.
“Did Ron Weasley come? I remember the three of them disappeared together.”
“Yes.” Chloe nodded.
“They more or less frog-marched the Savior over. I got to meet the famous Golden Trio of your wizarding world.”
“Should I congratulate you on finally getting a new client after more than a year, or should I be worried about the boss’s mental health?” Michael wrinkled his nose.
“You should pretend you don’t know, and not let it slip to Harry Potter that I’m your sister.” Chloe gave him a look.
“I have strong professional ethics, but it would still make people uneasy.”
“Fine.” Michael shrugged, then looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression.
“Though I figured you’d turn him down. What made you decide to take on another wizard after George Weasley?”
Chloe only smiled and didn’t answer.
02
“How did it go yesterday?”
Harry looked up, mildly confused, and turned toward the voice.
Hermione was carrying two large stacks of files and a brown paper bag.
Harry could smell bacon sandwiches from inside it.
“Yesterday?” He stared at her blankly.
Hermione seemed to understand something.
She let out a heavy sigh, tossed the paper bag onto Harry’s desk, and yanked back the thick curtains by the window in one clean motion.
Bright sunlight flooded the room instantly, making the desk lamp look rather unnecessary.
“You pulled another all-nighter.” Hermione looked at him with a pained expression, her eyes full of worry and displeasure.
“I believe the sun worked overtime.” Harry raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect her with the joke.
Hermione lifted the files she was holding and rapped him once on the head with them, expressionless.
“Eat your breakfast, then go home and sleep.”
“It’s a workday.” Harry protested.
“There are still pursuit assignments, and interrogations—”
Hermione made a shushing gesture.
“You haven’t had a day off in over ten days! You’re not the only Auror, the Ministry won’t vanish because you’re absent for one day. You’ve got some good Aurors under you. That Michael who’s always following you around, he can hold things together.” You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“But—”
“And how long has it been since you’ve seen Teddy? You promised to take Teddy out last weekend and then cancelled because a mission came up at the last minute. I’ve already told Andromeda that you’ll be taking Teddy out this afternoon.”
“When did you tell her that?” Harry looked at her in shock.
Hermione gave a thin smile, pulled out her wand, and summoned her Patronus.
“Two minutes from now.”
Harry sighed and let it go.
None of the other reasons were enough to stop him from working.
It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled an all-nighter; he often went days without sleep.
But Teddy, Teddy genuinely needed him.
He was Teddy’s godfather.
That came with responsibilities.
Every time Harry saw Teddy, guilt filled him up.
He couldn’t help comparing Teddy to himself as a child.
He had made Teddy an orphan.
He couldn’t let Teddy become a second version of himself.
“So, how did it go at Dr. Aiken’s yesterday?” Hermione sat down across from him, carefully watching his expression.
Harry’s thoughts snapped back.
He found himself thinking of the colored drawing sitting in his desk drawer.
“I don’t think it did much good. I don’t want to go back.” Harry shrugged.
“Really?” Hermione looked a little deflated.
“No effect at all? But George said Dr. Aiken is very professional, and I thought she seemed like a good person too.”
“She really is a good person…” Harry instinctively curled his fingers inward.
“It’s just…”
“It’s just that I don’t think it’s doing anything for me.”
“Give it another try, Harry.” Hermione urged, her voice full of hope.
“What if it does work?”
Harry thought that perhaps he shouldn’t have been so easily persuaded.
But then again, this was Hermione.
He glanced around his office.
Cold and empty.
Or perhaps he was lying to himself.
Because that room had genuinely made him feel at ease.
03
Curtains.
Flames.
Ruins.
Green light.
Harry struggled awake, gasping, and instinctively reached under his pillow for his wand.
A faint stir came from beside him.
Teddy seemed disturbed by the movement, brow furrowing, eyes fluttering briefly, but didn’t wake.
Harry sat motionless on the bed for a moment, slowly separating the dream from reality.
That afternoon he had taken Teddy to an amusement park.
In the evening they had gone to a restaurant for dinner; Teddy had clung to him and refused to go home.
Harry loved having Teddy close.
And as usual, Teddy had ended up asleep in his bed.
Harry tucked his wand into his pajama pocket, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and stared at Teddy’s face for a moment.
Then he smiled and pulled the blanket up.
Teddy was still keeping his hair black even in sleep.
Harry had long grown used to jolting awake from nightmares.
They had followed him since his seventh year and never left.
He had reached the point where he was slowly beginning to accept that every dream would be a nightmare.
On any other night, he would go to the kitchen and pour himself a drink, or numb himself with tobacco.
But Teddy was here tonight, and he didn’t want even the slightest chance of passing bad habits on.
Harry sighed, quietly reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and took a sip, then lay back down, and drifted, slowly, into another nightmare.
“Sis, are you having nightmares again?”
Michael shuffled out of his room rubbing his eyes, and found Chloe leaning against the kitchen counter with a drink.
The kitchen light made him squint.
Chloe looked at him with mild surprise.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I was thirsty.” Michael lied, slipping his feet into his slippers and heading to the kitchen.
Chloe poured him a glass of juice.
“I think you should go talk to a supervisor.” Michael took a sip and looked at her with concern.
“Taking on too many clients, do you think their emotions are starting to get to you?”
Chloe didn’t answer.
She let out a quiet laugh and studied him.
“Do your missions ever get to you?”
Michael shook his head vigorously.
“Why would they get to me? Those are my chances to prove myself to the boss! He trusts me! He even took the day off today and temporarily handed part of his authority over to me!”
Chloe looked at him with amused exasperation.
“Your fanatical admiration for Harry Potter has already gone well past normal.”
[Note: Some psychologists have their own supervisors, who provide emotional support and professional guidance, while also monitoring therapists to prevent them from abusing their position or using emotional manipulation to control clients.]
➤ Next: The Fire