"Yeah, go talk to Draco," said Harry smugly. "Good idea. See if you can get him to eat some more custard. And then ask him about Rhiannon."
Piers' lips turned down. "Rhiannon."
"Yeah, long blonde hair and sings like an angel. Draco's got it bad for her."
Piers batted his eyes, just a little, going right back into flirtation. "Oooh, that's mean, Harry, dashing my hopes like that. But perhaps you're realising you shouldn't have been so quick to turn me down--"
"Harry, I do believe we'll be late for our appointment if we don't leave soon," said a voice from the kitchen doorway.
Snape. Harry whirled around, feeling just about as embarrassed as he'd ever been. His father, overhearing Piers' suggestive last comment. His face felt hot, his collar too tight.
But for all that, he was grateful for an easy escape. "Yeah, good," he quickly said. "I'll just find Dudley and say goodbye. See you later, Piers."
He felt someone's gaze on his back as he hurried down the hall to look for Dudley, but he wasn't sure if it was his father staring after him, or Piers. What he was sure of was that he suddenly wanted to whirl around and blast Piers with a blood-blister hex. Or something worse. And it wasn't just his wretched come-ons that had made Harry angry; it was his whole childhood and Piers' part in tormenting him. Dudley had really changed, which made him worth forgiving, but Piers... well, Piers was just worthless.
But vengeance was a bad impulse, wasn't it... Harry's arms began to itch something awful.
So much so, in fact, that he decided he'd better make sure he took the earlier session with Marsha, tonight.
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"It sounds to me as though you handled your cousin's flatmate with aplomb," said Marsha, leaning back in her chair.
Harry frowned. "Maybe I didn't explain it right. I mean, it didn't seem that way to me, at the time. He just kept on and on, as if I hadn't already told him to forget it. Is he like that with everyone, do you think? I mean, has Dudley mentioned?"
"Harry," chided the therapist, her eyes warm even if her expression was stern. "You know perfectly well that I can't discuss a word of what Dudley might have said or not, not unless he's asked me to. We've been over this before."
"Yeah, I know." Harry shoved his sleeves up and gave his arms a long scratch, then sighed.
"Would you like some chewing gum?"
Harry nodded. The gum gave him something else to focus on, another physical sensation. Particularly the gum Marsha kept around. Cinnamon-flavoured, the taste of it was so biting that it almost made his eyes water. "Think I can have a couple of packs of this to take with me, get me through the week?"
"We've also talked about the hazards of dependence."
"Yeah, yeah." Harry slouched a little, stretching out his legs. Snape would have rebuked him at once to sit up straight and show the good doctor some respect, but Marsha didn't mind if he relaxed. Not that he could relax much when she prodded him with such uncomfortable questions.
"So Harry, do you feel you were more upset that Piers is attracted to you sexually or that he seemed to expect the same sort of forgiveness that you've shown Dudley?"
"What?" Harry sputtered, the question catching him off guard. "Well, both! I mean, it's not like I have anything against Piers because he's queer and he seems to think I'm physically fit or something. I'm not the sort to hold that against him. It's just--I'm so tired of people only being interested in me in some sick, evil way!"
"You think that Piers is sick and evil?"
Harry sighed. "All right, maybe not evil, not compared to Voldemort and such. But he just as much implied that he used to beat me up because he was attracted to me. That's sick if you ask me. And he thinks I should be flattered about it or something? You know, it's one thing for me to forgive Dudley. He is still family, at least. Not to mention that he doesn't want anything from me. He hasn't even asked me for money and I bet he knows by now that I've got plenty. Piers... yech, I don't even want to talk about him anymore."
"You implied that people only express sexual interest in you negatively. What makes you say that? I haven't got the impression that you think sex is something unpleasant or unwholesome."
Harry scrubbed a hand across his forehead. How did she get that idea? "No, of course not. It's just that lately, I mean, it's almost creepy. First Malfoy and now Piers. What is it about me?"
"Harry, do you mean Lucius Malfoy? You said he didn't harm you in that way."
"Oh he didn't. He just--" Harry sighed again. He really didn't want to talk about this at all. "He just sort of implied that he would, well, that he would have if he'd had the opportunity, you know? And um, later on, he said that I enjoyed it when he made me take off my shirt. Just like Piers implied that I was more interested than I let on. And I'm not!"
"No," said Marsha gently. "I can see that you're not." Her voice had taken on that soft tone that made Harry feel about six years old. "Clearly those sorts of statements are merely bullying and manipulation and I know that you're clever enough to see that. You have every right to feel violated. We've discussed before that abuse does not have to be physical to be potent."
Harry nodded, though he cringed at the word "violated." It made him sound so weak. He rubbed his arms, trying and, he suspected failing, to seem nonchalant. A change of subject was definitely in order.
"So, Draco'll probably tell you all about it, I guess, but he ran into that Rhiannon girl again. He's still pretending that she must be a pureblood like him, when she's not even a witch."
"You speak is such scathing tones," Marsha softly observed. "Why do you feel so strongly about the matter?"
Ha, trust Marsha to always bring matters right back to Harry. She almost never let him rant about Draco. No, he had to look at himself, she liked to say, because he was the only one he could change. Harry was actually pretty tired of it.
"I told you! It's because it's too soon, anyway. Draco was in love with Pansy for years, and I think he feels like he has to have a girl, so he's latched onto this one, and when he finds out she's a Muggle it's going to be ugly, that's all. Draco's so irrational about her that he might think she tricked him, and you know about his impulse control, and the last thing he needs, if he wants to be an Auror, is a notation that once he attacked a Muggle simply for being one!"
"Oh, I think you need to have more faith in him than that."
Harry scoffed. "What, you think he's going to take kindly to the news that he's been in love with a Muggle?"
"Perhaps not, but I doubt he'll take it as badly as you just implied."
Harry shrugged, feeling mulish.
Marsha smiled, her whole face softening. "I'm more interested in why you feel so invested in the matter."
And just like that, Harry felt something inside him snap. "He's got no business thinking of love when we should all be worried about Voldemort!" he suddenly erupted. "There's no telling what might happen next. There's a war on! I shouldn't even probably have asked for swimming lessons. I should be training harder, not practically taking the summer off!"
"Too much work and no play is no help to anyone. How much help will you be in the war if you've pushed yourself past your limits?"
"Ha. I'm not allowed limits," said Harry bitterly.
Marsha gave his arms a significant glance. "You have them, all the same."
His scratches felt like they were burning, then. Harry laced his fingers together to keep from rubbing them. "Obviously I do," he said tightly. "I just meant that from the moment I started Hogwarts I was being trained for battle! And the worst part was, I was too daft to notice, until my Dad pointed it out."
"So why do you now resent him for providing you with some rest and relaxation?"