Harry Potter Becomes The Sanders Sides, I Guess

Patton Arc- Part 2

(This whole chapter is in Hermione's POV)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patton stood in front of Ron and I, still wearing that grin on his face. Hermione was currently trembling, and Ron had promptly fainted upon seeing that scar. The scar that had tormented their dreams for who knows how long. Patton just blinked and said, "Sorry about that, you must have me mistaken for someone else. But, it you want to call me Harry, I guess that's a pretty cool nickname!" However, I didn't fail to note how tensely Patton clasped his hands together. Dumbledore cleared his throat once more, and said, "Now that young Harry- sorry, Patton- is back, I expect you all to make him feel at home." Then, he left through the portrait hole, leaving us all in a severely tense atmosphere. Picking up his bag from where he set it down, Patton chirpily said, "Well, I'm just gonna go unpack real quick. See you guys in a bit!" Then, he headed up for the boys dormitory. As soon as he left, I reached for my enchanted mirror that my therapist had given me.

I started seeing a therapist about a month after Patton's initial arrest, back when he was still Harry. Everything had just seemed so surreal. I did some digging around, and found a therapist. He was still in college, taking some extra psychology courses, but they were clearly paying off. He was so good at getting to the root of problems, and just giving advice in general. Keeping all this in mind, I tapped the mirror with my wand twice. After a moment, it flickered to life, showing the face of my therapist. As usual, he had his stoic expression, only heightened by the glasses on his face. He wore a black polo with a blue necktie, and khaki pants. "Ah, hello again, Hermione. What seems to be troubling you today?" he asked, getting right to the point as always. Taking a deep breath, I answered. "Well, Harry just came back today..." A tense silence hung in the air for a moment before he responded, "I see. Has he attempted to verbally or physically assault you in any way, shape, or form? If so, remember the mind over matter strategy we worked on." I shook my head. "No, it's the exact opposite. He isn't angry at all, and he hasn't stopped smiling since he got here!"

This seemed to genuinely surprise my therapist, because he quickly blinked a few times before responding. "Well, I must say, I honestly expected you to say yes. I assume I'm correct when I say that this is not the way he usually acts, even if we take Azkaban out of the picture?" I nodded before saying, "Yes. I mean, he's usually pretty optimistic, but this is...like a whole new personality." He nodded, before writing something in a Muggle notebook. "Now, how much trauma has he suffered in his life, would you say?" Not seeing where he was going, I replied, "A lot. I mean, his parents were murdered in front of him, he faced Voldemort who knows how many times as a child, he saw his only father figure die in front of him, he witnessed the Dark Lord's return right after his servant murdered a classmate, and a blood quill was used on him." Nodding and writing something else on his notebook, he asked another question that really threw me.

"To the best of your knowledge, has he ever been abused?"

There was a tense silence between the two of us before I finally mustered up the courage to answer. "I...I don't know. All I can tell you is that his relatives never really liked him, and that he used to ask for food during the summer before our fourth year." The year everyone started to turn on him, my mind began to whisper. I must have visibly cringed, because my therapist said, "Remember, deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You got this." After a moment, I managed to regain my composure, and said, "Well, what do you think?" Referring back to his notebook, he sighed and said, "Well, after everything you've told me, there is a good change he has smiling depression." Tilting my head to the side, I said, "Smiling depression? What's that?" "It's what you had for a few months back when he was arrested. While the term usually isn't a clinical diagnosis, it's where you hide your depression with smiles and laughter. Now, he might not have it. But, what he does, beyond a doubt have, is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." I nodded, and said, "That actually makes a lot of sense. What should I do?" Without missing a beat, the therapist replied, "Well, I recommend some gentle probing while he's getting re-acquainted. Ask him some questions, but don't make it obvious what you're doing. And, if the worst comes to pass, call me. I'll be happy to set up an appointment with him." I smiled, thinking that this plan would work. It had to work! "Excellent! Thanks, Logan!" I then tapped my mirror twice to shut it off, as I thought of how to begin...