A/N: I figure since they're written I might as well put 'em up. R&R please WARNING: descriptions of sexual abuse here so if that bothers you don't read….

"Zephyr you are not cooperating with me." It was three days into break, most students had gone home, and Zephyr had been officially released from the hospital wing and into Snape's care on a full twenty-four hour suicide watch to be released at Snape and Madame Pomfrey's discretion. Snape was trying to learn about his charge's early life, but all she would do is tell funny stories and cute anecdotes of growing up with her brothers.

Snape was frustrated, she was clearly still in emotional pain, not to mention the physical pain that still lingered even after Madame Pomfrey's best administrations. (after all magic could only fix so much) Small cuts were reappearing on her arms, how, Snape didn't know, she was barely ever out of his sight.
"Zephyr!" he repeated a second time, jogging her out of her stupor.
"Sorry professor." She said, not at all looking contrite. Snape decided it was time for the hard questions.
"Zephyr, I'd like you to tell me about the sexual abuse you have suffered." Zephyr's face went from rosy to pale to ghostlike. Her hands began to shake, and she began rocking back and forth unconsciously. "Zephyr? Are you okay? Please tell me. You need to get it out, you MUST talk about it to somebody. It will eat you from the inside out if you don't." Zephyr made a jerkish movement like she was about to stand up, but her muscles seemed unable to support her and she gave up before even beginning. She tried to speak, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, which under normal circumstances would have been funny, but now simply looked painfully pathetic. Snape was kind, but firm, choosing his next words carefully. "Zephyr, speak. Now, please." He thought she would refuse, then,
"I…c-c-c-can-can't. Speak…about it." Snape knew that sometimes victims of torture and abuse couldn't speak about their experiences, it was a form of trauma, a defense mechanism in which the mind shut the body down, keeping the memories at bay.

However, Zephyr was past the point where ignoring the issue was effective. She needed to get it out. Snape made one last request, thoroughly expecting a vehement refusal.
"Let me into your mind."

He was shocked when Zephyr nodded, sitting back and making eye contact for the first time in weeks. He began, letting the pictures of her memories flit through his mind.

Zephyr is about four years old, her father creeps into her bedroom at night. "Baby do something for me, do something for daddy?" her little four year old face shines with pride at being chosen above all her older brothers. Afterwards, Daddy swears her to silence, swears her to keep "our little secret," as he creeps out of the room leaving a confused toddler sticky with the remains of her father's sick pleasure.

Zephyr is older now, about ten years old. Daddy sneaks in again, she pretends to be asleep, maybe he won't want me to touch him tonight if he thinks I'm asleep. But this time its worse, this time he doesn't just want to be touched he wants to touch.

Thirteen years old. Zephyr wishes she was back at Hogwarts, cant wait for the summer to end. He walks into her room, no longer sneaking, no need to. Mommy is dead and brothers are long gone off working jobs, having successful lives, blissfully ignorant. He pins her to the bed, the alcohol on his breath making her retch. None of that precious, none of that. He unceremoniously rips off her nightgown, and ignores her screams of pain. Afterward, she sits in the shower for hours, long after the water has run cold, carving her shame into her legs with a razor blade.

This summer, in the Nott's basement. They are standing around her, beating her over and over and over with that awful Muggle whip. She's lightheaded with pain, though not crying out, no noise, can't risk any sound, might let words out, secrets out, oh no not good. Remember the pain? Pain is the friend. Remember? Goyle rips off her t-shirt, can't see through all that bloody material, cant aim properly. Oh hello beautiful, what have we here? As three, four, five men bear down on her, she closes her eyes, tries to find that place she went to as a child, tries to ignore the pain, the rough floor digging into the gashes in her back, as they break her open again and again and again, watching, looking, touching, thrusting, heaving, jostling for a place. They leave her there when they are done, bleeding from the inside out, she puts her clothes back on before apparating somewhere ANYWHERE and Grimmauld Place comes into her blurry view.

Back in Hogwarts, Matt her boyfriend. No, Matt we can't do this. Why not, don't be a tease. No Matt, I said no, NO MATT, NO, STOP, PLEASE. Shut up you dumb bitch, you can't say you don't want this.

You can't say you don't want this.

You can't say you don't want this.

Snape wrenched himself from her mind, her memories still haunting him, would continue to do so for weeks, even years to come. He sat down, his heart breaking for the small figure who had collapsed in tears on his couch. He gathered her to himself, careful not to touch her as the others had, careful to comfort but not insinuate.

"Shhh, its all going to be alright. We're going to work through it all. You're safe now."