In need of an Aspirin and a Hawaiian beach

His hair was getting long.

As he sat at his desk, having just braced a smile for his last client, a woman with severe trust issues that had began to manifest against him, he pinched the ends of his hair and pulled, feeling how the hair had grown long enough to curl again. How had it gotten so long? He just... didn't have anyone to tell him it was long. Day after day, looking into the mirror, he slowly got used to it. Just like one got used to the state of one's life. As it slowly got more unsatisfactory, it was harder to notice how long the troubles had grown.

But seriously, had no one thought to mention it?

Perhaps if he had a mother, he would be better at remembering things like haircuts.

This line of thinking was pathetic, really. He had grown up with two amazing substitutes for blood relations. Fleur Delacour had once upon a time been a maternal figure to him as well. But now, Ginny gone and his relationship with the eldest French Weasley girl splintered, there was no such feminine protective force in his life. Bernice, maybe, but he did not like to think of her as maternal. Ew. No. Weird.

"Merlin," he sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to clear himself of the last hour. It was getting harder and harder to bring himself back to normal after every session. He engaged, he focused, but he could see himself letting his own issues intermingle, his own fears for his family creep in and affect his judgment. He was failing. These people were trusting him to be better, to be unbiased, to be able to help. And he just... Wasn't strong enough.

His secretary Carla popped her head in. "Ready, Ted?"

He grimaced, hating the name Ted, though being a grown man meant less people called him Teddy. "Yes. Send um..." Who was his next appointment.

"Avariella?" Carla supplied, quirking an eyebrow.

"Right, right," Teddy said. "Yes, send..."

Avariella? No. Not... Probably not... Certainly not-

"Avariella Hudson," Carla repeated, almost sing-songy, like reminding a child of an important household rule. "You need a vacation, Ted."

She exited and he had never heard such good advice. Perhaps he should start his vacation now. Save talking to his godbrother's ex for another time...

“I thought you liked rationality.”

“I do.” The prongs sank smoothly through the meat; Avariella gave a minute, mental nod. Perfectly cooked. There was barely a clink as she lifted the fork off the plate, all wrist movement of course, deft and proficient. “There is nothing rational or sensible about this.”
Hortense fussed with her blouse cuffs a bit. It was pointless, they were already stained. As were her elbows. “You did suffer a pretty massive injury. Plus the resignation from Auror training, the switch to legal-“

“Barbed wire through the stomach. It happens to thousands of ten year old boys.” The meat tasted great too. A bit too much salt though. “We don’t send them all off to therapy, do we?”

“Maybe it’ll help you in other ways.” Hortense seemed really earnest about it too. Pretty sweet of her. “Besides, research says that over seventy percent of the adult population would do well to visi- “

“Okay, okay. Fine.” Avariella smiled, partly because of the meat. “I’ll go. It’s Ministry mandated, after all.” Another smile followed, mostly of shared amusement. “I suppose they don’t want us going as crazy as the other lunatics we lock up on a monthly basis.”

“Talk about it.” Hortense winked back, rather exaggeratedly. Then, when the lull got a little too long, “Do you wanna try the-“

“I’d love to, but I really ought to dash if I want to actually make it to the therapist appointment you’ve convinced me into attending.” The dabbing with the napkins was, admittedly, unnecessary- Avariella was nothing but neat with her eating motions- but the servers would have tossed the soft, white triangles into the rubbish cans anyway, and she did so abhor wastage.

Barely a creak as the chair moved back, and she rather discreetly slid the money for the bill atop the table- but apparently not discreetly enough with Hortense’s widening eyes and rapidly growing gesticulations. Slipped her fashionably short (yet comfortably lined) robe back over rounded shoulders, flexed her toes in her heeled pumps and started turning away with a friendly- “Tell Tristan to take care, lunch was wonderful, I’ll catch you later!”

“We simply must do this again.” Hortense was still seated, the taken aback expression from the sudden exit erased by a growing glow- probably because Avariella remembered the name of a stepbrother from their first of two meetings. “Catch you later Ava.”

“-riella.” The glow faltered, Avariella smiled a little brighter. Lowered the tone to something more gentle. “I don’t like nicknames, if that’s okay.”

“Pshh, of course.” An expansive hand gesture that resulted in yet another stain on that sleeve. Avariella resisted a little sigh. “Have fun!”

Appreciated, but highly unlikely.

~


Mental illness was …..well. As the name quite so obviously indicated. An illness. She acknowledged that. Respected it, even. It was not one to be controlled, or banished as per desire.

Didn’t stop her from bristling at the very idea of a therapist. She’d politely declined the services of even the counsellor at Hogwarts- hired to guide hundreds of students through the tumultuous storm that was adolescence. Yes, a friend b*tching behind your back or an ugly breakup was sign of the apocalypse and cause of the world raining down your ears- go call the experts.

She just couldn’t quite make peace with the idea of needing someone else to solve your problems for you. She knew not everyone had the same level of placidity when it came to dealing with issues, that she might even be abnormally ‘sorted’. It was just…..a little incomprehensible to her how people were unable to make logical jumps- proceed from x to y and attain the answer. Failed an interview? Work harder. Boyfriend break your heart? Pick better. What exactly was so mystical about average issues and their solutions? Wasn’t psychological science….less science and more sheer common sense?

But following that very rule- if your bosses wanted you to do therapy to clear you for your job, you do it. Whining was impractical. Besides, she didn’t have any hang ups with regards to ‘talking about feelings’ like some brain dead males she knew.

“He’s ready to see you, please come on right in.”

….unless it was talking about feelings to her ex’s sibling (sort of). Yes, that had the potential for getting hang up-y real fast.

But she was a professional woman, and she’d be damned if she had to clear yet another spot on her schedule for a meeting with another goddamned therapist.

They knew, and didn’t know each other; a nod as their insanely organised lives brushed past each other in the hallways of Hogwarts, maybe. She didn’t spend too long quaffling over it (the very idea of her quaffling was a little ludicrous)- “Avariella Hudson, Level Five. Thanks for meeting me.”

A steady hand extended, a gracious, polite face. Yes, they were off to an adequate start.

(He'd been a little more put together in school, hadn't he? That haircut couldn't possibly be Ministry regulation.)

And before he could do anything to prepare himself for this confused meeting, she was sweeping in with that air of authority that followed her like… he didn’t want to say like flies on a stink, because Avariella would never fit in with such a metaphor. Fragrance on a flower was not exactly the right metaphor either… That air of authority wasn’t sweet, wasn’t foul. It was… sharp. It was biting. And it was currently in his office.

He fumbled to stand up, looking awkward already, having pulled his seat too close to the desk to make for a graceful rise. He smiled, trying to hide the surprise and the mild anxiety he had at seeing her, creating some strange mixed expression that was hard to place under any certain known human condition. If he was James, the Potter that everyone looked to as the standard for proper human association, it would have been so natural.

Wow, Avariella! It’s been so long. I thought it might be you, but wow… You look wonderful, by the way. How long has it been? You seem hardly changed, and it’s all for the better. It’s so good to see you. I’ve thought about you!

But instead, he managed to make the ‘h’ noise of a hello before her brisk words stopped the sound right in his throat, and brought all of his attention to the steady hand held out for him. He glanced back up at her, mouth still frozen around an ‘h’. He blinked, and clamped his mouth shut, true uncertainty furrowing his brow as his head tilted in confusion. Did she… not remember him? That couldn’t be true. She was clever, had a strong memory. But… she had never exactly been a people-person either.

How did you ask someone who should know you, who would be rude or stupid to not know you, if they remembered you? You didn’t. Especially not when they brought that authority with them. So he reached out a hand, his eyebrows settled heavily over his eyes, and took her hand, returning the handshake as best as he could despite the confusion.

“Yes… Of, of course,” he said, finally recovering. He cleared his throat. “It’s nice seeing you again, Avariella. You can call me Teddy, in… in this space.” He felt like he had to introduce himself, as she had done it too, but it felt foolish. “It’s pretty relaxed. Please, sit.”

He followed his own instructions, busy his hands with the files in front of him, stacking, restacking, before placing them flat and smoothing his hands along them. “Right. So…” He finally brought his eyes to hers. He pulled on that horribly empty counselor smile. “What’re you in for?”

A bad therapist joke. One he should have retired so long ago.

Hell, he should have retired long ago.

He was looking a little flummoxed. She stood, hand still extended, while he proceeded to locate his shins and withdraw them from beneath the desk without hitting something important and standing up.

…..that expression though. Was he not expecting her at this time? No, she’d double checked the time, she always did. Was there some sort of strange protocol she wasn’t following? No, she’d barely made it through the door. Was it the greeting itself?

“Yes… Of, of course. It’s nice seeing you again, Avariella. You can call me Teddy, in… in this space.”

…hadn’t his name been Edward? The name of a childhood toy was quite a leap, and the casual tone of his reply did contrast with her formality in the beginning rather strangely, unless therapists everywhere were just this unnaturally-….oh. Oh.

Her mind recalibrated mid-handshake, the new setting and context clicking into place. Right. Of course. She would have imagined that he’d just wanted to have ignored all the history, especially considering the reason for said history…..but. Well, she had no issues adjusting.

“Of course, Teddy. Pardon me the formality, it’s just been a really long day at work.” She seated herself, crossing one ankle over the other, even as the cushion sank rather significantly, making a straight back rather difficult. She personally believed any blood relative of a couch should be left back at home, but- comfort -> counsellor’s office; she supposed she could see the strategy there. A natural smile lifted her lips, inviting the person at the other end to share in the emotion.
“Repeat the same greeting in a robot voice often enough and it ends up being your default setting, you know how it is.”

No issues adjusting, but she had always preferred to keep school histories out of a professional setting. How could carry overs from a time when everyone was fourteen and dripping snot and hormones into their daily bowls of porridge a plus, she couldn’t imagine.

“Right. So… what’re you in for?”

She blinked. Twice. Edw- Teddy looked nice and relatable, which was probably a plus in this field, but this routine couldn’t possibly inspire much confidence in his patients. Then realised that the pause was possibly too long for politeness and began the tale, swift and amiable. Best to get this done with quickly.

“I had……well, a barbed wire straight through my stomach. Don’t ask me how, I don’t remember it. Which is possibly the only saving grace- I don’t remember an inch of the pain either.” She smiled again, as if in reassurance. As if to say- ‘This isn’t trauma. I’m normal.’. “Well that, and the fact that it put me off possibly being an Auror completely. I took three months in Australia with my grandmum to recuperate, and then resigned from my traineeship. Entirely a preference thing, of course- no regrets or hidden motives or whatever else you might call it, there. Started studying law instead- cleared it recently and I’ve been taking on cases as a public defendant.”

“The Ministry is still a little…iffy on my past experiences though. They wanted to make sure that I had it all in hand, no…….complicacies left over. The incident had been a close call, even if I don’t recall it.” Avariella smiled broader, a smooth upturning of the right palm to the air, in a ‘here I am’ fashion. “So here we are. Making sure.”