A/N: Warning: self-injury.

SNAPE POV

I keep Zephyr in bed for two more days, mostly because I do not know what to do with her. Finally, she is completely healed, well, physically at any rate, and I cannot confine her to bed any longer. I decide it is time to lay some ground rules.
"Zephyr, you may wander freely, however do not leave the warded area without me. It's a circle a mile in radius, so I think you will not have too much trouble with this. I will not tolerate another suicide attempt, and I would prefer you do not cut your arms either…however I am aware that that is perhaps the only thing keeping you sane, so distasteful as I find that practice, I will not condemn you for it. Please know that I wish only to help you, and I am here for you whenever you need someone." I know she will talk sooner here than she would at Hogwarts, even with a one mile radius of freedom, this place could get boring.

We settle into an easy routine, I wake at six o'clock AM on the dot, as usual, while Zephyr wakes closer to nine or ten. She eats breakfast, reads for a bit, goes for a run, usually around six miles, some days four, some days ten, comes back, showers, we eat lunch together, and then spend the afternoon reading or watching Muggle television before I prepare dinner, which she never eats. Evenings are spent either taking separate walks or sometimes playing basketball or soccer together. On colder evenings we play chess or backgammon. She is a fierce competitor, brilliant, but with no poker face, and a height handicap when it comes to sports, so we are somewhat evenly matched as I'm considerably better in strategy but less prone to competitive rages.

She is still cutting her arms, I can see the marks, see the bloody cloths in the trash, see the splotches on her sleeves. She tries to hide it, but I am very observant. She is losing weight too, not enough to worry me yet, but I still press her to eat dinner. It does not work and she gets angry with me. I let the subject drop for the time being. One afternoon, she's not sitting in what has become "her" chair, the one by the window, where she can see the ocean, the waves lapping the beach at high tide. I assume she's out walking or resting, or simply reading somewhere else, it would not be the first time she had done such a thing. After an hour has passed, though, I become curious, then worried. Give me three guesses as to what she is doing right now, and I would bet on the one involving a knife. I walk from room to room, just to check, giving Zephyr the benefit of the doubt. All are empty, save for the bathroom in her room. I knock on the door. No answer. My heart drops a notch, and I call out this time as I knock,
"Zephyr? Are you in there?" To my relief, her voice comes back, oddly hollow
"Yeah."
"Are you okay?" I ask, knowing what the answer will be.
"Yeah." Liar.
"No, you are not. Come out here please. Now."

And out she comes, at first looking fine, but as she walks forward, she stumbles a little. I catch her, she's shaking, and pale. I recklessly abandon any pretense of student-teacher formality, allowing my concern to show.
"Sweetheart, what did you do?" I murmur, for now I can see the blood beginning to stain the shirt she had hastily pulled on in the bathroom, I can see the blood staining her hands, the hands still clutching a razor blade. I pry the blade from her grasp, tossing it onto the counter, deal with that later, I think, then turn back to Zephyr, who is swaying where she stands. I steer her into the kitchen and sit her on a chair. Her pulse is slow, very slow and her blood pressure dangerously low. I Summon a blood-replenishing potion from my storeroom, tipping it down her throat, I realize she'll mostly bleed the new blood out, but it is better than having her collapse where she sits.
"Zephyr, will you take off this outer shirt for me please? Let me see what you've done?" She hesitates, and I remember the first day she was here, when I refused to heal the small cuts because she wouldn't promise to stop. I know she's remembering that conversation too.
"Zephyr, you need medical attention, I'm not going to deny you that, okay? Let me see your arms." She removes the long-sleeve shirt, leaving her in a tank top. She flips her arms over herself, exposing the damage to me. Two very long, very deep, horizontal gashes run across her left forearm, leaving fatty tissue and blood vessels exposed. Both are still bleeding profusely. Wasting no time, I take out my wand and begin healing the cuts, tracing the wounds over and over and over. Finally, they are closed. For good measure, I heal the older, more shallow ones, they do not even leave scars, like these deep ones will. I make Zephyr drink another blood-replenishing potion, and several glasses of water before I check her blood pressure and pulse again, pleased to see they are stabilizing. I wrap the girl up in a blanket, she's shivering, her body unable to keep her warm after its most recent ordeal. Pulling her to her feet I steer her slowly into my study, sitting her down in an armchair, as I pull my desk chair around to face her. I lean forward, one hand on my knee, the other tipping her face up so I can look into her eyes.
"We need to talk."

A/N: So I cant decide if I want a Snape/Zephyr romance. And I cant decide something else I can't recall right now. So all I'm asking is if you guys want a romance...lemme know kk?