My Godfather is an Innocent Convict (Rewrite)

August Ideas: Part 1

A/N: the next part contains a panic attack so if that's triggering just scroll past it! You're not missing anything substantial.
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The ballpoint pen scratched across the paper, making probably one of the most uncomfortable sounds Harriet had ever heard.

"So you have a new pet?" Mrs. Murray asked her from where she was sitting behind her desk.

"Yes, I have a snake named Medusa." Harriet was lying on the black couch staring at the ceiling.

"And how is that?" Murray smiled.

"Pretty cool." Harriet grinned. "It's nice to have someone around."

"Your family isn't?"

"They are."

"But you don't feel like they are?"

"I had a complicated relationship with them in the past."

"Because of your Uncle?"

"Maybe."

Mrs. Murray hummed and the damned scratching resumed. "May I ask you about your last school year?"

Harriet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was what she had been dreading. She really didn't want to talk about it. What could she even talk about?

Images flashed through her mind. The petrified students and the flooded hallway and the blood on the walls and the blood soaking through Draco's white shirt and-

Was it just her or was the air leaving the room?

"I - erm -" She tried to take a deep breath. "Can- can we open a-"

The breathing wasn't working. Mrs. Murray reached over to open the window before moving around the desk to crouch next to Harriet who had curled into a ball and was gripping her arm tight enough to leave a mark.

"Harriet?" she asked gently. "Can you hear me?"

A shakey nod.

"Good. Can you name five things you can see?"

"Erm... the desk an the- the, um, chair and- and-" Harriet couldn't breathe. She could feel bile rising in her throat.

"Keep going." Mrs. Murray encouraged.

"Curtains and a- a ballpoint pen and my- my shoes?" 

Was that good enough? The thirteen year old couldn't tell.

Mrs. Murray smiled. "Now four things you can feel."

"The, uh, sofa and my bracelet and - and my glasses slipping," Harriet shoved them back onto her nose, "And- and-"

"Just one more thing?"

"This pillow's kind of scratchy." Hugging it to her chest Harriet tried to breathe again. It still wasn't really working. Was she going to suffocate?

"How about three things you can hear?"

"You talking, the- the cars outside and the comp- computor." Okay, the breathing was getting better. Maybe.

"This may be more difficult but how about two things you can smell?"

Harriet sniffed the air. What was there?

"The flowers on your desk and the coffee."

"And one thing you can taste." Mrs Murray requested.

"Vomit." That one didn't take long. 

Harriet felt like throwing up. 

"What- what was that?" she asked quietly.

"You experienced a mild panic attack." Mrs. Murray explained gently. "They are very common in trauma survivors and individuals with anxiety.

"It gets worse?" Harriet stared at the therapist in horror.

"Allow me to explain." Mrs. Murray said.

Harriet didn't know what else to do, so she sat and listened.

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A/N: Panic attack over. You can safely read on!
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About two hours later, Harriet was sat on the sofa in the flat watching TV with Dudley. One of the Karate Kid movies was playing.

"Pass the popcorn," Harriet muttered.

"Get your own!" Dudley grumbled.

"Aunt Petunia said to share!"

"Ugh, fine! I don't see why you can't just y'know!" He waved his right arm in the air. "Abracadabra!"

"Doesn't work like that."

"What's it good for then?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." Harriet snorted. "Seems to cause more trouble than good."

"What do you usually use it for?"

"Levitating things around the room."

"Could you levitate the tower of London?" Dudley asked.

"I'd have to make sure it wasn't attached to the ground first!"

"Can you learn skills with a spell?"

Harriet thought about it for a second. "Nah. There's a couple potions that can give you special abilities though."

"Can I have one?"

"Pretty sure that's illegal."

"I won't tell!" He pleaded.

"Your mum would find out anyway." Nothing went under Petunias nose or escaped her hawklike ability to spot anything out of the ordinary.

Dudley pouted. "Spoilsport!"

"Am not!" Harriet protested.

"Are too!"

"Your just mad you can't do magic!"

"It's apparently useless so not anymore!"

Harriet started to laugh. "Imagine if you could levitate Halloween decorations and send them after people though!"

Dudley's eyes lit up before joining in. "Or if we turned Dave's car pink!"

Dave was their neighbour and both Harriet and Dudley hated him with a passion. He was rude, played his music to loud (if it was good music it wouldn't have been a problem), seemed to constantly have his drunk friend over and just stunk. Literally.

"I think we might actually be able to do that!" Harriet mused. "Just give me some time to work out a plan!"

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Thank you for choosing this story as your form of entertainment. I hope you are all well and have cookies you can snack on.

XOXO, Drachma