"What brings you here today?"
Harry shifted in his seat. This had to be the most uncomfortable he'd ever felt in his life.
"My friend kind of- said I should."
She was nodding. "Okay. Have you been to therapy before?" She was looking directly at him, which Harry felt, somehow, was rude.
"No," Harry replied. They didn't have therapists in the wizarding world. Just prophecies and pensieves.
She nodded again, just once this time. "Okay. Let's start by telling each other a little bit about ourselves."
"Alright," Harry said and waited for her to begin.
"I've been a therapist for 15 years now. I grew up in Essex to Sri Lankan immigrants. I've worked in many different settings- from prisons to schools, to where we are now," she waved a hand at the quite luxurious office- a high ceilinged loft with a view that overlooked a quiet street in Kensington. "Tell me about yourself- where did you grow up?"
"Surrey."
She blinked. "I've never been."
He tried to find his voice again, remembering the muggle version of his life that Hermione had helped him concoct.
"It's not much, kind of a worse thing than a suburb."
She made no reply.
"I lived with my aunt and uncle and their son. My parents died when I was very young." He supposed that was a good place to start, she was probably salivating now.
"I'm sorry to hear that. How did they die, if you don't mind my asking?"
"They were killed by someone who disagreed with them, politically."
Harry watched her eyebrows raise slightly. She was processing. "I see. So, they were politicians?"
"No. More like- activists. And then I grew up in a boarding school mostly, after I turned 11. In Scotland."
She smiled. "I don't detect a Scottish drawl."
He really wanted to give her a smile, because he was there by choice and she didn't need to service an arsehole, but he couldn't. "No, there were kids there from all over the UK."
"I see. And what do you do now?"
"I'm- I was- a police detective. I took a year off to teach, actually at the same boarding school. But I left that as well and now I'm taking time off."
"Mm," she said, making a note in the book in her lap. "You said your friend thought you should try therapy. Why do you think she said that?"
"She, erm- thinks I'm sort of lost."
She waited for him to continue but Harry felt a very immature need to make her work for it. She gave in. "And why does she think that?"
"She thinks I've been avoiding them. Her and my other close friend, who's her boyfriend. She says I've been running around with my boyfriend all over the continent and then when I'm in London I just stay home and don't really see much of anyone unless they come looking for me."
"Are you avoiding them?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"Why?"
"I don't know," he shrugged.
"If you were to guess."
Harry thought about it. "I guess it's easier for me right now to be around people who don't know anything about me."
