Catch The Snitch

[Reserved for Ethan Forrester]
With a soft pop, Kyle materialised in the middle of Hogsmeade. Quickly he gave himself a once-over just to make sure he had arrived in one piece. During his Apparition classes, on the rare occasion where he messed up, for reasons unknown to him it was always his prosthesis that got splinched. (Still, better his artificial limb than a real one; the former could be easily fixed with a spell, but for the latter, that would be an entirely different story.)

To Kyle’s relief, nothing seemed to be missing. Considering the huge distance he had travelled, that was quite the achievement for someone who had only gotten his Apparition license recently,. Normally he wouldn’t be making such a long journey, but he had a routine medical appointment at a Muggle hospital in Bradford and it would have taken him a full day for the round trip had he not travelled there magically. Previously he relied on the Floo Network, but disliked it as the fireplace he exited from was quite a distance away from the hospital. Now that he was able to simply Apparate to a suitable spot near the hospital, it was so much faster and more convenient.

Having arrived at Hogsmeade safely, all that was left was for Kyle to fly back to Hogwarts Castle. After he got his bearings, he located the Three Broomsticks Inn, where he had left his broomstick behind before he Apparated to Bradford, and headed towards it. As he entered, he noticed that the inn was quite a bit emptier than usual, though the smell of smoke in the air was somehow just as thick as always.

Greeting the innkeeper, he waited for a moment for them to retrieve his broomstick that was safely stowed away behind the counter. After getting his broomstick back, he was about to leave when he noticed a familiar figure on the far side of the inn: Professor Ethan Forrester, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, the Head of Ravenclaw House, and a former Auror. The unexpected encounter gave Kyle pause: he had been meaning to seek some career advice from Professor Forrester for quite some time now, but thus far he had refrained from meeting the professor because he felt that he didn’t have what it took to be an Auror yet. But now that he was starting his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, he didn’t have the luxury of time to drag his feet anymore. Besides, fate or luck had put them together in the same place at the same time, and he took the situation as a sign that he shouldn’t dawdle any further. If Professor Forrester decided here and now that Kyle wasn't cut out to be an Auror, then he would simply have to swallow the bitter pill and make other plans instead.

Steeling himself for what was to come, Kyle approached the professor. “Good afternoon, Professor Forrester,” he began. “I hope I’m not intruding on you, but do you have a moment?” His tone was tentative, just in case the professor didn’t want to be bothered. “If it’s not convenient, I could come by your office another day or summat.”

Ethan had accompanied a gaggle of students to Hogsmeade as one of the chaperones for their first visit of the term, but it was now getting late and most had already returned to the safety of the castle. He'd decided to take advantage of the opportunity to visit the pub/cafe while things were now relatively quiet.

He was seated in a booth by himself, and he was presently skimming the articles in the weekend edition of the Daily Prophet while enjoying a mug of some steaming beverage. The paper was open to a large, looped animated photograph of a daring, but successful, Quidditch maneuver by the Holyhead Harpies' seeker, as some spectator feinted in the background.

Hearing his student's voice, he looked up from the newspaper. "No, you're not intruding at all, Mr. Winters. Please, have a seat." He folded the newspaper up and pushed it aside to signal that the boy had his complete attention. He'd already read more than enough drivel for one day, anyway. "What's on your mind?"

In spite of how comfortably he was settled in, seated in a booth by himself with the papers and a hot drink on a beautiful weekend, Professor Forrester said that he didn’t mind the interruption. In fact, he even put away his papers to signal that he was giving Kyle his full attention. That did make Kyle feel a tad guilty for imposing on the professor, but the only thing he could do now was to be as serious about the discussion as he could so as to not waste the professor’s valuable time.

“As you’re probably aware, Professor, two years ago during the Career Advice meeting with my Head of House I expressed my interest in becoming an Auror, but I was advised to keep my options open.” Memories of that meeting came back to mind. How silly he must have seemed to his Head of House then, boldly declaring his ambitions when he clearly lacked the right qualities to be an Auror. “I understand that I wasn’t nowhere near my best state two years ago, but I’ve been working hard on overcoming my shortcomings and issues, as well as my grades.”

The fact that he was currently taking all the required N.E.W.T.-level classes to apply to become an Auror was testament to the effort he had poured in and the results he had reaped. Still, his grades weren’t the most pressing concern for him. “Truth be told, I’m most worried about whether I’ve got the right aptitude to be an Auror,” he admitted candidly. Given the number of detentions he had served, his school record left quite a bit to be desired. Granted, most of the time he had acted only in defence of himself or others, but he did almost set a school bully on fire once.

“There’s also the matter of my… disability,” he continued. “Please don’t get me wrong, Professor, it hasn’t held me back much. But I’m worried that it might become an issue during an emergency.” It hurt his pride to admit that he wasn’t as independent as he would like to think, but it was a harsh reality that he would have to face. “I know that there are Aurors with similar issues, like the legendary Alastor Moody, but I’m nowhere as good as him.”

There was just one last matter, and it was the one he was most loathe to raise. He broke eye contact for a moment, finding it hard to look at Professor Forrester while discussing something that made him feel so utterly vulnerable. “And of course, you would know what happened to me four years ago.”

He was referring as obliquely as possible to the incident in 2001 that turned his life completely upside down, claimed his friend’s life along with part of his right leg, and caused his family to break up. His physical wounds had largely healed over the intervening years, but emotional scars were still there, and almost as red and raw as they had been.

Kyle didn’t know how much Professor Forrester knew, especially his family problems, but the profound effect the incident had on Kyle must have been obvious. For starters, he had seen Kyle’s boggart firsthand: a raging fire consuming the Ravenclaw student who had perished during that incident. He would also have seen the fear and horror in Kyle’s eyes as he had to relive his worst nightmare before the entire class. Truth be told Kyle didn’t remember what he did during that lesson, though he highly doubted he had confidently pointed his wand at the inferno and cast the Boggart-Banishing Spell.

That single sentence was as much as he dared talk about, less his emotions got the better of him, so he hastily moved on to his question. “In light of all that I’ve mentioned, do you think I have the right aptitude to be an Auror?” he asked. “I really want to do something to help others and make the world a better place.” His voice faltered, and he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist as he tried to get a hold of himself. “I just… I just don’t want anyone else to have to go through what I did.”

Ethan took a sip from his mug as Kyle began speaking, and listened intently. He recalled his own ambition to become an Auror, which had started when he'd just begun his first year at Hogwarts, motivated by his father's death and Voldemort's first defeat. He could certainly relate to his student's desire.

"The Auror office doesn't require absolute perfection. That said, an 'outstanding' will help you more than a mere 'acceptible' will hurt you. The needs of the department are constantly changing, and if you can tick the right marks for what they think they need at the time, that will have a huge impact on how far you get in the screening process."

"Since I'm not your head of house, I'm not privy to your performance in your other NEWT classes beyond the occasional anecdotes I might overhear in the staff lounge, so I've really only got your history in my class to use as a basis. Your marks on classwork won't paint a complete picture, of course, but they're the best estimator we have for your performance on your NEWTs." He paused to reflect on Kyle's work in the prior term. "While you're below average on theoretical aspects, you're above average on the practical aspects. For Aurors who actively engage with dark wizards, the practical aspects tend to be more important, so you have that in your favor. Your grades have also improved somewhat last term. This demonstrates ambition and diligence--key attributes to have. Perhaps the most important, in fact."

"Don't compare yourself with other people like Moody," Ethan advised. "If you must compare, compare yourself against where you were one year ago. That's what truly matters in life--whether you're actively seeking to improve yourself, even if it's just one little bit at a time, or whether you're languishing. We have a natural tendency to view life as a game or a race, but in reality, a person's choices are more important than their abilities. Choose to improve, and you will, at your own pace. Acquiesce, and you won't."

"If your disability is foremost on your mind, I think you can relax somewhat. Duelists can learn to compensate for their physical handicaps. The Auror office will evaluate you and offer one-on-one training in this regard." He paused again as he considered options Kyle might not have thought of. "...But you also need to understand that not all Aurors are on the 'front line', and even those that are, aren't expected to be sent to the field for every capture--Aurors are selected on a case-by-case basis depending on expected situations. Being able to duel certainly helps and makes one more versatile, but the department also needs people who can do things like forensic analysis; ward- and curse-breaking; psychological profiling; tracking; surveillance; hostage negotiation; training other Aurors; and managing cases and coordinating with Unspeakables--in fact, I'm sure I left out a few important roles. You don't need to excel in every facet of every NEWT subject."

He frowned upon recalling Kyle's boggart experience. It had traumatized several students when they realized it had been more of a memory than a hypothetical situation. Afterward, he'd fought with the Board of Governors to allow his students to optionally face their boggarts privately after that event.

Ethan reached into his jacket and produced his wand, which he then used to cast two charms. Kyle would recognize the first charm as a privacy charm from his sixth year DADA class, but the other would be completely new. He tucked his wand away, then leaned forward, with his hands clasped on the table. "You're already aware that I have a policy of keeping student consultations private. But if it helps, you now have my word that I will not discuss anything you say to me now with anyone else without your express consent," he began. "Furthermore, I will not judge you based on your answer to what I'm about to ask. And you are also free to not answer if you so choose. Do you understand?"

He waited for a nod or some affirmation to continue.

"This is difficult thing to ask, and perhaps also to answer," he admitted. "But have you met with a mind-healer to discuss your traumas?"

Not one to sugarcoat his words, Professor Forrester rightly pointed out that Kyle was below average when it came to the theoretical aspects of the DADA classes, although he was a bit better in the practical aspects. Kyle was bracing himself for more criticisms of his classwork, but the professor instead said that it was more important to have the right mindset, and the only person he should be comparing himself against was himself from a year ago. That caught Kyle off-guard for a second, but he appreciated how Professor Forrester was being objective but encouraging at the same time. As for his disability, he was relieved to learn that it wouldn’t be a deal-breaker, and that he had overestimated the amount of field work Aurors did.

That meant that the main issue that he would need to tackle was the proverbial elephant in the room.

Owing to how difficult it was for him to broach the topic, the most Kyle could do was to reference it obliquely. Fortunately the professor didn’t need him to elaborate further. Not that he could: it was a complicated mess of issues, a veritable Gordian’s Knot that was difficult for him to even process, much less resolve.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, the professor cast two spells – a privacy charm, and another spell Kyle didn’t recognise. After emphasising that their discussion henceforth would be kept strictly confidential, he said that he would not judge Kyle’s answers to his questions, and Kyle could choose not to answer for any reasons. The disclaimer was meant to reassure the teenager and provide a safe space to discuss the sensitive topic, but somehow it only made Kyle feel more exposed and visible, as though everyone in the inn was looking at him. He knew that this was not the case at all, and there was absolutely no reason for him to not trust Professor Forrester, but he just couldn't shake that irrational feeling. Nevertheless, he didn't want to give himself a chance to back out, so he forced himself to nod in acknowledgement, and steeled himself for the professor’s questions.

The first question wasn’t what he had expected at all. He thought he would be asked to talk about the incident, but instead the professor only wanted to know if he had spoken to a mind-healer. “No, not really, Professor,” he replied. “I used to have regular appointments with a Muggle psychotherapist for about a year or so. She was supposed to counsel me about my amputation, but we mainly talked about my father. And R–Rohaan.” The mere mention of his dear friend’s name was all that it took to make him choke up, and for a few seconds he couldn't speak. Angrily he fought back the hot, stubborn tears, wiping them away and before they could fall. Rohaan wouldn’t want to see him in this state. He would have wanted Kyle to be strong, and to prove to all the haters that nothing would ever beat him down. It was a promise they had once made to each other during the dark and difficult times when it seemed that it was just the two of them against the whole world, and he would never ever allow himself to break that promise.

It took him a while to regain his voice and his composure. “I’m sorry,” he managed, trying to smile in an attempt to reassure the professor that he was alright. “It’s just that time hasn’t made it any easier for me to talk about these things.”

"There's nothing to be sorry for. We wouldn't be human if we didn't show our emotions once in a while. If I may ask, what led to the end of the sessions with the psychotherapist?" Ethan then caught himself. "Sorry, don't answer that--that's really not for me to know--but perhaps something for you to consider."

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and stared out the window as a light rain began to fall. "I've lost innumerable colleagues in my time, though perhaps nobody as dear to me as your friend was to you, except for my father, when I was only six. I confess that I didn't understand how to process that loss at the time, and I was angry at the world for a long while."

He returned his attention to Kyle. "They say that 'time heals all wounds', but psychological wounds are in an entirely different world of their own. It's only human to grieve, and we all grieve in our own way. Sometimes that grief can actually increase over time, as we naturally focus on the best memories we have of the person we lost. We can even begin to idolize them, and convince ourselves that nobody could ever hope to fill that void in our heart, and then become a recluse as our social lives deteriorate as a consequence."

"I don't believe you should seek to completely overcome your grief. In fact, if anyone did manage to accomplish that, I'd suspect them of being a sociopath--someone who's completely rid themself of feeling. We can't lose our pain without also losing our humanity in the process. But you will need to learn to cope with your grief, so that it doesn't overwhelm your thoughts and hold you back. Left unchecked, grief can develop into a debilitating depression, and I suspect you're already experiencing a taste of that. I certainly did in my case."

"You said that you didn't want anyone else to go through what you did. This is a kind of coping mechanism--transforming the trauma into motivation. Perhaps the best thing you can do to honor your friend's memory is to continue to draw motivation from it--motivation to improve yourself and make the world a little better for it. But take care to set realistic goals--incremental stepping stones--because if you press yourself too hard and demand immediate perfection, you'll undoubtedly come up short."

"If--say next summor, or whenever you submit your application to the Auror office--if it's declined, you might be tempted to give up on yourself. Your friend wouldn't want that outcome. If the Auror office doesn't recruit you on your first attempt, you can always seek to improve based on the feedback you get, and then make another attempt six months or a year down the line. The office will always be there, waiting for when you're ready."

"A mind healer would have a number of techniques they can use to help you. I'm certainly not familiar with all of them. They'd have to evaluate you to determine what the best approach would be. It would be a process, not an instantaneous thing, and they'd likely want to visit with you for a long period of time--spacing the appointments farther and farther apart over time as you progress."

He leaned in and clasped his hands together on the table again. "If you'd like to meet with one to begin, or continue, the healing process, I could make some inquiries and try to find someone suitable for you. They could arrange to discreetly meet with you here in Hogsmeade so nobody else need know about it--and you needn't worry about any fees for their services, at least while you're a student. If it turns out that you don't like the person for whatever reason, we can always find someone else and try again, or you could opt out completely. But it's a decision only you can make."

There was actually a rather dumb reason why Kyle’s sessions with his psychotherapist had been terminated: the sessions were meant to help him come to terms with his amputation, and not the loss of his friend or his family problems. Despite his psychotherapist’s efforts, once it was deemed that he was adjusting well to his new life as an amputee, the sessions stopped. If he wanted to seek help for other issues, he'd have to make a separate appointment for them, and he probably couldn't afford the fees anyway. He was about to explain the situation when the professor decided that perhaps there was no need for him to know. Hearing those words, Kyle decided instead to just let the topic slide, but still he made a mental note to consider if it would be worth the effort to reinstate the sessions.

When Professor Forrester opened up about his own struggles with grief and the anger that he had felt, those feelings that he described felt so familiar to Kyle. At the start it had been pure rage directed at his father and all those who had attacked Osman’s restaurant, killed Rohaan, and caused him to lose his leg. During their confrontation in the hospital, his father had not only denied any responsibility, but instead deflected all the blame to Kyle. And all of Kyle’s rage, with nowhere else to go, festered and turned into indignation and pent-up frustration. And there was the grief too: the all-consuming grief and sadness that hit him like a tidal wave and swept him away, leaving him to struggle and flounder until he was too weak and tired to fight back, and sank deeper and deeper into helplessness and self-pity.

And just as the professor had said, Kyle’s grief did grow, even after he had been discharged from the hospital and was able to return to school. His amputation had been the least of his troubles. Rather, it was Rohaan’s absence that haunted his every waking moment. He had forcefully yanked himself out of his depression and quagmire of dark thoughts by working doubly – no, triply – hard at everything. That had been his coping mechanism, as Professor Forrester had pointed out, but he had pushed himself way too hard. It was only after he collapsed from exhaustion one day did he realise that he had been going at it the wrong way. “I promise I won’t repeat that mistake,” he affirmed.

He relaxed noticeably when he learnt that he could reapply to the Auror Office should his first application be unsuccessful. “I was afraid the door would close on me permanently if I were to be rejected,” he said. “Thank you for letting me know that I can always work harder and try again.”

As the conversation returned to the topic of mind healers, Kyle thought about whether he should be seeing one to work on his unresolved issues. But the choice was clear, and any reasons he had against the idea were just excuses. “I think I’d like to meet with a mind healer.” There, he had declared his commitment to it now, and there was no way for him to back out. “I used to think that not being able to get over my grief by myself was a sign of weakness, but it seems that it takes much more courage to seek help.” That sudden confession came out of nowhere, and even he was surprised that he had just blurted that out. “The only thing I can say with any confidence that I’ve come to terms with is losing my leg. Losing a friend, however…” his voice trailed off for a bit as he struggled to find the right words to say, but he came up short. “I... I think I still need some more time to grieve.”

“I probably need a lot more help with my family problems,” he said, finally finding the courage to talk about something he had been shunting away and ignoring. “Till today I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about my father abandoning us. Grieving is clearcut, but this… whatever this is, it’s a convoluted mess.” The words were just spilling freely now, as though a dam inside him had broken. “Sometimes I really wished that my father was an utterly abhorrent person with no redeeming qualities at all, so that I could hate him with all my heart. But for all his faults, I can’t ignore what he had done for me and everything useful that he had taught me, and that just leaves me angry and confused.” For years all of that impotent rage had been trapped inside of him, perpetually on the verge of boiling over and without any outlet at all. “I guess I really need help badly,” he surmised, mostly to convince himself rather than Professor Forrester.

"It's quite easy for us to feel constrained when we're not aware of all of our options. It's good that you won't feel quite as pressured as before--and I apologize if I ever said anything that might've led you to believe that you only get one chance to become an Auror."

"Issues with family members are always difficult," he agreed. "Much as we'd like, we can't dissect people in such a way that we can keep their good parts and banish their bad parts." At least not ethically--there was likely some perverse dark ritual known in some corner of the world for fundamentally altering a person's personality. If so, it was just as well that they didn't know about it. "I'm sorry that I don't have any profound insight to share regarding how to reconcile positive and negative feelings when they apply to the same person. It seems that no two experiences are exactly the same."

Prof. Forrester nodded when Kyle agreed to meet with a mind-healer. "It always takes a degree of courage to admit when we need help. When we're young, it's easy to think that needing help means we're weak--it doesn't. Every human who's ever lived has faced their own unique set of challenges in life; some were circumstances of their birth, or imposed by others, while others were self-imposed. While we know of a few who seemingly managed to become successful all by themselves, imagine how much more difficult they made their lives because of their stubbornness, and how much more successful they could've been if only they'd reached out and accepted help."

"I can't promise the best possible outcome with the mind healer, but I'm proud of you for trying. I hope you'll feel comfortable enough to let me know if they seem to be helping or not--because if they're not, we can look into alternatives. I'll send out an inquiry tonight and pull you aside as soon as I have something to share. Sound good?"

Prof. Forrester picked up his mug and finished it off.

When Professor Forrester apologised for accidentally giving Kyle the wrong impression about there being one one chance for him to apply as an Auror, the student felt compelled to set the record straight. “No, Professor,” he hurriedly said, “it’s probably just me being overly worried about things and getting mixed up.” That was the most likely case; for someone like Kyle, opportunities didn't come easily and he was always afraid of messing up whenever something did come his way.

He bit his lip pensively as Professor Forrester spoke about how difficult family issues could be, and how it took courage to admit to needing and accepting help. Deep down inside he probably already knew all these… but alas, knowing was not the same as accepting. Inwardly he chided himself for being terrible at taking his own advice. There were many times when his heart just stubbornly refused to listen to his head, so much so that it almost always took another person to talk some sense into him before he would willingly change.

And when Professor Forrester said that he would send out an inquiry for a mind-healer, Kyle nodded and even managed a smile, albeit a weak one. “I… I can’t thank you enough. That’s much more than I could ever wish for,” he said. “I promise I’ll keep you updates. It’s the least I could do.” Furthermore, it was a way to hold himself accountable and make himself face his problems head on. In order to feel comfortable enough to talk to Professor Forrester about his sessions with the mind-healer, he would first need to come clean with himself about his feelings and get used to dealing with these difficult issues that he had been running away from all this while.

Sensing that it was time to draw this impromptu counselling session to a close, he pretended to glance at his watch as a pretext to leave, but instead found himself genuinely surprised that they had spoken for far longer than he had thought. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time, Professor,” he said apologetically. “And I probably should return to Hogwarts too,” he continued, not quite sure how to wrap up the conversation nicely after pouring his heart out earlier. “I’ll see you in class. Once again, thank you so much. I… um…” For a few moments he groped uselessly for the right words. Finding none, he instead settled for what could only be described as an awkward cross between a bow and a head bob, and left the inn.

Once outside, he took a deep breath to ground himself. His eyes were still a little red, and he hastily wiped away the last vestiges of his tears. In the distance he could see Hogwarts Castle, where all his friends were. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.