Let Memories Unfold

Chapter 15

For the first time in Harry's life, he felt like he could truly breathe. The past few months had allowed him to see so, and feel it throughout his entire being. Harry had stayed in the Hospital Wing for a further 2 weeks, allowing his body to heal and attending the Mind Healing appointments that fell in those weeks. They had managed to fully discuss Harry's childhood, with a lot of tears, a few breakdowns and one small bout of magic which forced Harry to stay in the Wing for a few further days.

The two had also gotten around to talking about Harry's difficulty surrounding what Hermione and him had talked about. The Mind Healer was luckily familiar with Autism, having a few other patients with it, and they had managed to discuss a few coping strategies when things got difficult for Harry in those senses. Even just having those to turn to greatly lifted Harry up. He had continued to see Healer McKinnon, and write in his journal, and managed to catch up on the homework and class work he had missed with the help of Hermione.

It had been going truly well with her, and Harry didn't exactly know where it was leading to, but he was happy either way, and it looked like she was too. With the force to be reckoned with who went by her name, she had studied a storm up on tournament books that were bound by magic, and had discovered to Harry's incredible relief a solution to the tournament he had been placed in unwillingly.

The cup bound you by magic, and when Harry had broken his magic and his body down that night, it had essentially severed the tie between him and the tournament. His magic had gotten so dangerously low it had been registered as not fully gone, but enough to disconnect him from the binding. Dumbledore had been odd about it, and insisted Harry attend the second half out of 'worry that it hadn't truly worked' but he wasn't hearing any of it. The proof was solid when the second task passed and Harry felt no consequence for it. Another burden had been lifted off of his shoulders, and he could see the future a little easier now.

Granted, it had not all been sunshine and daisies. Harry was still mentally ill, and had ran into a few low points that got him a few more Mind Healing sessions and overnight stays in the Hospital Wing. The worst of them being after a particularly brutal fight with Ron (whom he had never truly reconciled with) he couldn't see clearly or remember any of the coping mechanisms he was taught and had found anything he could to cause himself harm. A mirror was the perpetrator for Harry, and he had sliced himself into oblivion and woke up in the Hospital Wing, aching and guilty.

It turned out that Dean had found him unconscious in the bathroom, and had called for Professor McGonagall and gotten to him in the nick of time. It was a close one, and one that made him feel guilty enough that he vowed to never do that again. The pain and fear on Hermione's face when he woke up with fuzzy memories filled with red of the night before told him enough.

There had been a few lows after that, but Harry had gotten either Hermione or sent a letter off to Healer McKinnon, and she always got back to him in record time. He was still struggling, but he knew he could overcome it now, and he had people around him to support him.

Walking down hallways were less brutal than before, with him resigning from the tournament and a firm reminder that Harry had not entered the competition out of his own volition by Dumbledore, people had eased up on him. He didn't forget how they treated him though, that would be burnt into him forever.

The most difficult thing to overcome, aside from the urge to tear himself up from the inside, was his eating. He had begrudgingly admitted to Hermione that he didn't eat, and he didn't want to. The once fun mind game he had played with himself now turned into a torturous cycle he couldn't escape from for awhile. It leered at him from inside his head, and eating a meal was a game created by himself that he knew he had to fail for once. He couldn't sustain himself anymore with potions, and Madam Pomfrey had reminded him sternly that he really couldn't go on as he could.