Songbird ; Fred Weasley

Ninety-six

"I don't need therapy."

I continued walking, my arms folded over my chest like some kind of shield.

Harvey walked only a few steps behind me, sighing loudly, obviously getting aggravated.

"Yes you do!" He snapped at me. "Jesus Christ, Mavis."

"I really don't." I said. "I'm doing amazing. I have an amazing fiancé, and I have three children. We're moving to New York, we're—"

"Wait..." I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I flinched roughly, jumping away, accidentally ending up on the street.

A cars horn shot through the air, and Harvey grabbed my wrist, pulling me back onto the pavement with as much strength as he had.

"What the fuck!" He yelled out in frustration, and I stared at the street while he raked both hands through his hair.

"Shit..." I whispered.

"Yeah, shit. If you don't need therapy, then why did you flinch so hard that you jumped out in front of a fucking car?!"

My eyes narrowed at him.

"Maybe because you reached out for me and I wasn't expecting it." I said and then continued walking.

"A mentally stable person would have maybe flinched a little, but you jumped like someone was trying to stab you." He said, following me.

I laughed dryly.

"Right. And I'm not mentally stable. Gotcha."

"You nearly got yourself killed just now!" He exclaimed. "Also, let's just go back a moment. You're moving to New York?!"

I shrugged.

"Fred and I signed off on a house in Brooklyn." I informed him.

"Alright... and why is it that you're fleeing the country?"

"We're not fleeing the country." I rolled my eyes. "We talked about it when I was expecting Phoebe, and now we're making it a reality. We could use a change after everything."

"So you are fleeing. You're moving to another country because of what happened with Eric."

"So?"

"So, maybe you shouldn't flee, but go to therapy and get better. Your problems won't stay in England, Mavis."

I didn't reply to that. I wasn't in the mood for arguments, so I just kept walking.

"You're so fucking stubborn!" Harvey groaned loudly. "Why are you so fucking ashamed of admitting you need help? You have some sort of post traumatic stress. Don't ignore the fact that you wake up at night because of nightmares. Everyone in the house knows about that."

My jaw clenched, but I just continued my pace, in desperation of going home.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed, Maves. Everyone else went to therapy after you were found. You're the only one refusing."

"Well, maybe I got the stubborn gene from my biological dad." I laughed and turned the corner of our street.

We were quite close to the clinic where our brother was hospitalised so it was a quick walk home.

"Don't do that."

"Do what? Acknowledge the truth? That my biological father is currently in Azkaban for kidnapping me and a handful of my siblings?" I asked. "Because he is. My own flesh and blood—"

"Our flesh and blood—"

"Oh, I'm sorry." I laughed. "Didn't realise you were jealous of the great bond I have with my dad."