'… a human confronted with inhuman evil ... must draw upon resources he or she may never have needed, and the Patronus is the awakened secret self that lies dormant until needed...'

-From 'Charms of Defence and Deterrence' by Professor Catullus Spangle.

Corrupted Guardian.

Harry shifted in the overly elegant and plush chair. Glancing around the room, taking it all in. He didn't have to know much about art to recognize that the paintings hung on the paneled walls were of quality; like everything else in the room. A reflection of the man across from him. He shifted again, the nine year old's legs were left swinging uncomfortably, too short to reach the floor fully as his gaze settled on the rug between them.

"Not fond of eye contact, are you?" Harry shrugged in reply, tilting his head so that his too large glasses slipped down his nose before looking up at the man's face. A trick he had learned early on, faking eye contact by looking at the thick frames rather than the eyes beyond.

He didn't want to be here, his aunt had been the one who was so insistent that he needed help. Uncle Vernon hadn't been to thrilled at the idea of wasting good money on some shrink, but once the school had begun to voice some conserns he had finally given in; for appearance sake if nothing else.

He had been coping well enough; sure he had started sleep walking when he was five, but once Aunt Petunia had started locking his door at night he had stopped waking up in strange places. That was until he had woken up on the roof; they had put the bars on the window only for him to break the glass during one of his nightmares that had been growing in frequency.

They had dealt with it themselves as they always had; moving his mattress into the windowless cupboard under the stairs where he was safer and his now nearly nightly fits wouldn't disturb the other occupants of the house. It wasn't until things began to spread outside of the household that the school had gotten involved.

It wasn't his fault the kids at school had found his quiet and withdrawn habits, strange and perfect for bullying. No doubt, the spilling of his less than savory secrets around the school, had been Dudley's doing.

"Eyes are distracting," he mumbled after a long pause, his newest therapist was obviously waiting for a verbal answer to his question. Dr Hannibal Lecter was his third therapist in the past ten weeks; the first had been a joke. After only one session, the buck toothed man who greatly resembled a retarded giraffe had prescribed him some pills that had him either borderline catatonic or vomiting up anything he ate. Harry would never admit to it, but he had intentionally aimed for the man's favorite fancy leather chair on purpose. It had been an added bonus the man had been occupying it at the time.

Then had been the creepy cat lady, who had been solely interested in asking him how this black blob made him feel or what that blob looked like. She had been arrested for fraud a few weeks later, apparently one of her other patients had grown weary of some similar treatment and done some investigating into her credentials. Harry had never seen anyone turn the colors his uncle had when he got the news.

"Well what's your assessment, Doctor?" Vernon Dursley barked out, already weary of going through this process yet again, as he settled himself in the chair Harry had been perched in for the last hour; the aged wood protesting loudly against the excessive added weight.

"Your nephew is a very special boy." Doctor Lecter began, while Petunia perched on the sofa to one side next to Harry. Harry watched the interaction cautiously; a small frown had formed on Lecter's face, as Vernon settled into the chair only for it to vanish after a moment.

"A nuisance, is what he is." Vernon corrected and Harry dropped his attention from the conversation back to his shoes. Petunia was sitting a respectable distance away, straight backed and chin high; not exactly the picture of a comforting parent, not that she had ever treated Harry with the same degree of affection she showed her own son.

"Well, can you fix him?" Vernon asked, jumping right in to the issue without much tact, never a man to beat around the bush.

"What, young Harry has is pure empathy, he can assume your point of view. Or mine, and maybe some other points of view that scare him." He tilted a considering gaze to the dark haired boy, "It's an uncomfortable gift, Mr Dursley. Perception's a tool that's pointed on both ends."

"Yeah yeah we know, boy's got an over active imagination." Vernon said waving the man off dismissively with one meaty fist, obviously only half-listening. "Can you fix him?"

"Fix is a relative term," Lecter said with a polite smile, "but yes, with enough time I could help young Harry here to learn how to manage his condition."

"With enough money you mean?" Vernon sneered, "I hope your as good as you claim to be. Mr Ferguson spoke highly of you despite that you're new to this mind shrinking business."

"I assure you Mr Dursley, dispite my recent change in profession," the man said with a smile that held a little more teeth than might have been needed, "I am fully qualified as a psychiatrist."

"You better be for what I'm paying you." Vernon stated, hoisting himself from the groaning chair again, gesturing for his wife to follow.

Dr Lecter escorted them to the door as the family left the office, taking the time to acquire a business card that was pocketed from Vernon along the way. Harry wasn't sure what made him look back, but he did. Green met brown and for a moment he thought he saw a flicker of red in the Lithuanian's gaze.

He felt the barest touch of warm velvet ghost against the back of his neck, hot breath misting over his skin causing the hairs there to stand on end. The contact was broken as he was shoved toward the car, they were due to pick up Dudley and his friends at the theater in ten minutes. When he looked up again, the parking lot was empty and the office door closed.

AN: Had to get this plot bunny out of my head. Well any interest?

Story Inspiration: Harry Potter & Will Graham: Fear Is How We Fall by Shainira on YouTube.