A Soulless Angel

Harry was glad he had taken a book with him to read to the mind-healing clinic section of St. Mungo's since it stopped him getting bored and it also stopped him from having to look up at the awed looks he was getting from the others waiting to see a mind healer. Ordinarily whenever he went out into the public into the wizarding world, he would put up notice me not or glamour charms, but there was no point here since his name would be called out, so it meant he had to put up with the pointless looks from the other patients.

The book was fairly enjoyable and he was able to calm himself down, as he lost himself in the pages of the collection of science fiction short stories. He had never been to a mind healer before; in the past, he had merely been forced to bury his inner turmoil and lock it away in the back of his mind.

The Dursleys didn't care about his mental well-being, any more than Dumbledore did; the Dursleys had thrown mental abuse towards him and Dumbledore had simply subjected him to one crisis to another, never letting him relax or see anybody, which tallied with his suspicions the old wizard was not only using him, but setting himself up for something so vile his mental wellbeing was irrelevant.

No longer.

Harry wanted to get mentally well after everything he had been through. He only needed to look at himself in the mirror, seeing his white hair and his darkened emerald green eyes to know that. But he didn't know if he could trust a mind healer with his problems, and so his wariness towards adults had merely been pushed aside for his mental health.

The miracle about reading was it let him take his mind off of the recent past and it also stopped him from feeling awkward. He hated waiting.

"Excuse me, are you really Harry Potter?" A female voice asked.

Harry sighed, wishing he could lie. He lifted his gaze slowly, letting his face drop into a mask. "Sadly, yes," he replied.

The young woman blinked at his cool tone but recovered quickly. "I just wanted to thank you for everything you did," she replied.

Harry lifted a brow. "Is that it?"

"Well, yes. You saved the wizarding world-."

"I didn't do it for the wizarding world," Harry interrupted, his tone sharp. "I don't care about the wizarding world. I was thrown into a cell by a corrupt Minister who wanted to be seen doing something while everyone lied about me. Why would I want to commit suicide for them? I wanted to end the war and give myself the chance to make a new chapter. That was it. Now please leave me alone."

"But Mr Potter-," the woman protested.

Harry ignored her and went back to his reading and he didn't look away after finding the passage he had been reading before he was interrupted. He knew he was being rude but he didn't care. He was sick and tired of everyone coming up to him, wanting to stare at him pointlessly while their brains dribbled out. Their behaviour had been obnoxious and annoying even before Azkaban, now it was even worse.

What would it take before everyone left him alone?

Fortunately, the woman left him alone after a few seconds. But fortunately, he didn't have time to dwell on his issues, before someone called his name. Relieved Harry stood up and walked to the door, where he found a young woman with light brown hair smiling at him. She wasn't looking at him in awe, which surprised him but then again he had asked the goblins, who'd prepared for these sessions, to make sure he didn't see a healer who was British and likewise bound to be annoying.

"Please, follow me, Mr Potter. My name is Chloe," Chloe said, holding out his hand. He noticed she had an Australian accent.

Harry took her hand and shook it gently. "Thanks," was all he could say.

Chloe led him into a simple-looking office decorated with moving and unmoving photos of Chloe on holiday, with friends and relatives. It was easy to tell him she was a muggle-born, with how the muggle photos were not moving, and the wizarding ones were.

Chloe noticed his scrutiny and smiled. "You're gonna have to forgive this mix of styles. I refuse to go entirely magical," she said as she took her seat.

"Don't mention it, I'm much the same," Harry replied as he took his seat.

"Good to know; I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but the British obsession with blood purity is frustrating. I've only been able to get clients with muggle-borns or Half-Bloods."

Harry snorted. "The more things change, the more they stay the same," he said.

"What do you mean?" Chloe asked.

"Well, with so many people revealed to be Death Eaters, you would think the British would realise how pointless the whole philosophy is, but sadly they have never been brimming with intelligence," Harry replied.

Chloe nodded in agreement. "Anyway, to get us started, is it okay if I call you Harry? It would be less formal."

"Fair enough." Harry didn't care one way or another.

Chloe rewarded him with a smile. "Fantastic! You can call me Chloe. The goblins told me you needed a mind healer," Chloe got down to business. "Do you know what that will entail?"

"Yes, Bloodbringer, my family accounts manager told me. You are going to have some sessions where you will speak to me about my…issues, and you will also probe my mind."

"That's true enough, but I won't if you don't want me to. Mind healing is extremely in-depth and we are sworn to uphold clients' privacy," Chloe said.

"Good to know," Harry replied.

Chloe leaned back in her chair, "What do you want from these sessions?"

"How do you mean? I don't understand the question."

"What do you want me to do?" Chloe clarified. "I've read your case so I know what to expect, but how can I help you?"

Harry licked his lips. This was a new experience for him; nobody had ever truly cared one little bit about his mental well-being. Even people like Madam Pomfrey had been more than happy to send him off on his own, while others like Dumbledore and Granger had just pushed him to tell them what was going on in his head. It was something else for someone to actually ask that question, even if he knew it was her job and nothing else.

But he decided to take the chance. The goblins had told him that if he went out into the world with so much pain and torment, then he could very well become another Voldemort. And he knew if that happened, then nobody would be safe.

He had seen the pain caused by Riddle. He would not be responsible for anything like it.

Harry decided to be honest and he let down the emotional walls he had built for himself. "Look at me, Chloe," he said plaintively, letting the small 3-year-old boy who'd been more emotional before he had hardened his heart against the world out for the first time in years. "Look at me. The Wizarding World has put me up on a pedestal, again. But for a whole year, I've had my name spat on and everyone has swanned around, believing I'm a Death Eater or worse. They only changed their minds when they discovered my innocence. A teenage boy. A teenager! I was thrown headfirst into a cell, after enduring a hellish year because my name was taken out of the Goblet of Fire. I went through three tasks while being suspected of being a cheat and a liar. Nobody helped me, partly because I was so tired of the lies, the manipulations, the half-truths, the betrayals. I never trusted Dumbledore, McGonagall, or my so-called friends, who were nothing of the sort, but were all liars and spies for Dumbledore. I knew they were spying on me because I was the Boy Who Lived. Boy Who Lived," Harry shook his head with a sneer of disgust. "I hate that title, Chloe. All it's done is cause me nothing but misery. When I was thrown into prison, the wizarding world forgot all about their stupid laws. If they had bothered to investigate and not wanting to give the public what they wanted, I would never have been sent to Azkaban. I have lost a whole year of my life, Chloe. I'm a teenager; I should be worrying about school, college….getting a job, going out with girls, going to concerts and getting drunk. Stuff like that. But no, I get thrown into a prison cell where I'm tormented by my worst memories. But in the end, everyone forgot what I went through. They don't care, at all. They're calling me the new Merlin just because I killed that evil bastard. My hair has gone white, I can barely sleep because of my nightmares. But I want to get well. I want to look at the world with a new pair of eyes, and a much better outlook instead of wallowing in my own misery. Nobody has cared before, and I hope to change that."

Chloe had been silent and still during the whole monologue. When the goblins had hired her, she had done some research by looking at some of the new photos of Harry Potter. Just by looking at them, the mind healer in her was already aware he was nursing many deep traumas. Helping him was going to be troubling, but she felt it was possible. But she was more worried about the deep-rooted damage.

"I can help you," she said the four magic words.

-8-

Harry winced as he washed the sweat off of his body. He leaned his throbbing head against the walls of the shower cubicle, just letting the hot water massage and soothe his aching body. At around the same time he had gone to the mind-healing sessions, he had started to look for new ways to pass the time. At the Dursleys, he'd always had chore after chore, but now he was no longer with them he had more time on his hands, and thanks to Chloe's encouragement he had looked into other activities.

Attending martial arts classes had always been on the cards. Harry had no intention of ever being caught or trapped unawares like he had after Voldemort cast the curse on the trophy. He wanted to be able to fight back, so he was learning Krav Maga and Muay Thai and fencing. As his strength and agility increased, and returned to the pre-Azkaban days, Harry began going to the gym, hitting the weight machines and going out jogging to boost his stamina. And he was starting to learn how to swim properly.

Chloe had been a big help, and he was only going to meet up with her once a week. During their first meeting, she had made it very clear to him that while she was going to help him, if she felt he wasn't cooperating or even trying to help himself, then she would simply stop the sessions.

Harry, stunned by her bluntness, had agreed to cooperate, and he had no intention of going back on his word since she seemed nice enough even if he was wary of her, but that was by habit rather than due to anything to do with Chloe's bubbly nature. But he had noticed, under that bubbly exterior, that she was serious and dedicated to her work.

When they had finished, she had gone straight to business, and she had promised him that even when he went back to Hogwarts thanks to the interference from Fudge and Dumbledore, they would still have the sessions. Harry was thankful for that, but he was going to make sure there weren't listening charms or tracking spells cast on him by Dumbledore.

She had encouraged him to look and do other things in their very first session. She had noticed he liked reading, so she had encouraged him to attend writer's groups or to find something inspiring to write about. That took him by surprise, as he had never once considered the possibility before. Still, he was intrigued enough to do it. And now he had begun attending a writers' group that met weekly at one of the local libraries that was easy to get to, and while everyone was stunned by his white hair, he had quickly been accepted even if he refused to talk much about himself. One good thing about the mind healing sessions was he was much more easier to speak to and he had noticed he was more ready to speak to people whom he didn't know even if he was still angry at the world.