Author's Note: Apologies for taking a while to update.

Harry wasn't sure what he wanted to do about his individual therapy session. It would be with Marcus, apparently. He could have Severus come in with him, or he could go it alone. He thought he'd rather face Quirrell again than go it alone, but on the other hand, Snape hated him.

Or did he? After this morning, Harry wasn't sure. He didn't want Snape to tell the Headmaster anything either, though, and would the man feel obligated to, if Harry said anything? Of course, Snape had probably looked at his records...

Harry didn't realise how quickly he was jiggling his leg until Luna put her hand on his knee.

"Are you turning into a butterfly, Harry?" She asked. His cheeks turned red.

"No," he said.

"That's a shame," she said. "Butterflies are so pretty." He didn't know what to say to that. Luna simply turned back to the orange she appeared to be dissecting.

"Harry," Snape said over Toby's head. Harry fought to keep from falling off the bench.

"Yes si- Severus?" he asked. It would never feel right calling his professor by his first name. Ever.

"Would you like to go to your session by yourself, or would you like me with you?" Snape asked. Harry peered up into the man's face, searching for any sign of disgust or disdain.

"Like you with me," Harry mumbled as fast as he could. Was that surprise glittering in Snape's eyes? He wanted to take it back in the next moment, but Snape had already turned back to Toby to ask him the same thing (although Harry could guess the answer there) and the moment was lost.

"It will be all right," Luna said, patting the back of his hand with a curlicue of orange peel. "You'll see."

Harry doubted that.

Marcus's office was in the same building as group therapy had been, Harry noticed as Snape shepherded both him and Toby. Toby kept visibly shaking and Harry had a feeling that only Severus's grip on the boy's hand kept him from bolting like a frightened rabbit.

"Toby's session will be first," Snape said. "It shouldn't take long. I trust you can sit out here on this bench and behave?"

"Yes, sir- Severus," Harry said, swallowing hard. The warning had been delivered relatively gently (probably for Toby's benefit), but Harry read it loud and clear. If he did not behave by Snape's standards, well-

He had a feeling dissecting rat spleens until he turned twenty would loom in his future.

As he waited, he looked around. There were paintings on the walls- some looked like they had been professionally done, seascapes and the like, but others were childish lines of crayon and paint, obviously done by the children who visited the camp. Harry thought it was interesting they were displayed side by side. Even Aunt Petunia didn't put up any of Dudley's artwork in a frame like that, like it was real art. She used to put some of them on the refrigerator, though, when Dudley was younger. Then Harry guessed he had gotten too old, because the artwork had come down, tucked into this album or that.

The bench was more comfortable than he had expected. It didn't at all feel like he was in trouble. He'd expected the time to pass slowly, but it seemed like it was no time at all before Snape and Toby were leaving Marcus's office. Toby's eyes were red-rimmed but he looked more composed than Harry had seen him so far.

"Toby, I'd like you to remain on this bench while Harry has his session, too," Snape said. "Then we can meet up with the rest of the group, okay?" Toby nodded, hopping up on the bench next to Harry.

"Well?" Snape asked. "Come on then, Harry." Harry swallowed hard and stood up. Nerves bubbled in his stomach and he felt suddenly like he was about to face off against another troll. Or Voldemort. Had Marcus morphed into You Know Who when Snape wasn't looking? Would Snape turn him over to You Know Who? Would-

"Harry?" Snape sounded gentler. Harry blinked.

"S-sorry," he said. "Coming." Snape looked at him hard, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach it out and take Harry's the way he had done for Toby. It remained by his side, though. Harry was grateful for that. It was fine for Toby, but he would feel like a baby if he went into Marcus's office holding Snape's hand.

Marcus's office was nothing like he expected, either. It was a big, airy room with a desk in the corner, several bean bag chairs scattered around a very plush rug, and a low table covered in arts and crafts supplies. Bookshelves crammed every corner, and there were bins of toys in several of the lower shelves.

"Hi, Harry!" Marcus said cheerfully. "Would you like Severus to stay? It's okay to say yes or no." Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Sit down wherever you like," Marcus said, waving a hand at the plethora of options. After a moment's hesitation, Harry chose the bench towards the back. It reminded him of the one in the hallway.

"So, Harry," Marcus said, dragging a chair closer and reversing it so he could rest his arms on the back. Harry thought Snape looked mildly disapproving. "First, I just wanted to ask- how is camp treating you? Do you like it so far? Is there anything I can help with?"

"It's good," Harry said hesitantly. Aside from the professor who hates me the most being my counselor, that is, he mentally added. "I've never been to summer camp before," he continued. "I don't er- really know what it's supposed to be like."

"That's okay," Marcus said, nodding. "A lot of our campers are here for the first time. Well, this is just an introduction to what's possible here. If you decide to continue having therapy sessions, you can always ask for one of your counselors to come in with you. Your foster family has contacted us and made it clear it's all about your comfort." He smiled reassuringly. Harry inwardly cringed. He didn't want Snape to hear about the Brumsleys or ask questions about why he was no longer with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. What if he told the headmaster and Dumbledore pulled strings to get him placed with the Dursleys again?

"Harry, are you all right?" Marcus asked. Harry blinked, wondering when the man had gotten so close.

"Y-yeah," he said. "Sorry." Marcus looked like he didn't quite believe him, but wasn't going to push the issue.

"If you choose to come again- which can be on your schedule, by the way," Marcus told him. "You don't have to come every time therapy sessions are scheduled, nor do you have to see me if you don't want to. There's actually several fully certified therapists who work at this camp, and I can vouch for all of them. As can Severus."

Hesitantly, Harry looked up at Snape, who nodded. He wished Snape would actually sit down. It felt...odd, having him loom over him. Not as threatening as he would have expected, but...

"We can talk about your life, what's happening at camp, and what happens after camp," Marcus said. "I know you've been placed with the Brumsleys fairly recently-"

"Yeah," Harry said. "They uh- they've been really nice to me."

"Patricia used to be a counselor here," Marcus confided with an easy smile. Well, that explained why they had decided to send Harry to Camp Retreat, he thought, shifting on the bench. "Do you have any questions, Harry?"

"What do you mean about after camp?" Harry asked carefully.

"Many children prefer receiving therapeutic services after leaving, as well," Marcus explained. "They find it helpful, whether individual or group, and I can help set you up with someone after you leave."

"Oh," Harry said. He didn't think he could take Marcus up on that. Even if he wanted to spill out all his problems, how could he? The instant he started nattering on about flying or Voldemort being on the back of his professor's head, he'd be locked up in the loony bin. Marcus would think he was utterly mental.

He didn't know this turmoil showed on his face until Snape took one look at him and quietly asked Marcus if they could have a moment.

"Of course," Marcus said, moving to the far end of the room. Snape sat on the bench next to him.

"Harry," Snape said in a low tone. "Marcus is not a wizard, but his sister's a witch. He knows about the wizarding world. You would not break the Statute should you choose to continue with therapy and mention your time at Hogwarts or anything you are struggling with that mentions magic."

"Does he- does he know who I am?" Harry asked with wide eyes. He wasn't sure he liked that. The Boy Who Lived wasn't supposed to be at a camp for abused kids. He was supposed to be the hope of the wizarding world, but he couldn't even rescue himself. His breathing sped up and Snape put one hand on his shoulder, lightly squeezing it and grounding him.

"He knows that you are Harry Potter, yes," Snape said quietly. "I assume he knows at least vaguely about the Dark Lord and his downfall. That does not mean he would think any less of you for being here. You are a child. You cannot help the circumstances that left you at Camp Retreat."

"Okay," Harry said, but he wasn't sure he believed his professor.

"You are allowed to continue to go to therapy sessions or not, but I did not want you to make a decision based on lack of information," Snape said, a bit stiffly.

"Thanks," Harry said. He didn't know how to feel about that.

He didn't know how to feel about all of this.