Discalimer: do not own, not making money
Sorry about the shortness but i am sick and i have a ton of work to do. Anyone who says research papers are fun arecrazy. Hopefully the next one will be longer.
It had been twenty four hours since Severus had found Ronald Weasley in the tub with his wrists slashed open. The staff at st. Mungos had worked around the clock and had finally been able to move him to the intensive care unit of the hospital, although he was still in a coma they expected him to recover in due time with plenty of rest. Severus had brought Harry to visit Ron with the other Weasleys as they sat and kept watch over him. It was largely a silent vigil because no one had quite been able to accept the fact that Ron had just tried to kill himself. According to the healers the slashes on his wrists were quite deep, he had clearly meant to die, not just try to get attention. The only reason for the slash to the throat being so shallow was due to his wrists being too weak to properly cut as he had slashed them first. They sat by his bed and watched him breath, just glad that he was alive, but questioning why he had tried to kill himself. Severus had his suspicions but he wouldn't bring it up with the rest of the family. He had seen what those who happened to be death eater material would force those under the imperious to do. The thought of what one could do to his own brother with a ghost mark would be appalling. Great, as if he didn't have enough to worry about now he had a teenager who was suicidal. Of course since it was a muggle art and he was the head of a supremely pureblood house and had a mysterious past everyone knew that he was just the sort to take lessons in psychology and therefore was the only one who could deal with a suicidal teen. Who ever had let his little hobby of reading up on psychology slip was going to pay dearly. Severus shifted slightly. Much to his annoyance and general dislike his 'son' Harry had had to sit on his lap. The other chairs had been taken and he didn't think that the boy would be able to stand for hours on end. He breathed deeply, he could smell Harry. He had the same smell as his father had had, only with more musk and a sharp tang like he had. He shook his head as he found himself looking for similarities in a boy he had, until very recently, loathed with all of his heart. He had to stop finding reasons to look for any likeness of himself in the boy. It wasn't as if he could force a father son bond right away, even if he did want one. Which he was certain he didn't. He knew the boy was almost an adult so what would he need a father figure for, besides he had his own life to live, he didn't need any adorable brats running around. He sat back and waited with the others until visiting hours were over. They all trudged back to number twelve Grimmauld place where Albus had had them stay while in London.
