Severus felt his eyes opening rather painfully. He felt oddly drugged, and very faint and weak.

That was when the memory of what must have happened hit Severus. A hardly noticeable glance down at his wrists wrapped in bandages confirmed it to be true.

Standing in front of him, he could see Dumbledore, a worried look upon his old face, and slightly to the side of and behind Dumbledore was…

No, it couldn't be, he couldn't be seeing this, couldn't be seeing him like this! Severus's mind reeled in panic for a split second before he was able to bring his emotions under control. Draco's face looked scared, though he probably didn't know it.

A whole bunch of feelings threatened to rush through Severus's head when he saw Malfoy, but he suppressed them.

In Dumbledore's eyes, Severus could see disappointment, and he knew what the Headmaster was thinking. He had been convinced, because of the past eight months or so that Severus was getting over his uglier habits of self-condemnation. And Severus supposed that he had, in a way.

Only Dumbledore didn't know why.

"Severus." Dumbledore spoke to him softly yet clearly. "How did this happen?"

Severus sneered. "I thought that would be obvious," he said sourly.

Dumbledore sighed, a little impatiently. "You know what I mean, Severus. Why did you do this to yourself?"

Severus was silent. He could not seem to think of a retort for once in his life. His dark eyes darted to Draco for a fraction of a second before he went back to staring impassively back at Dumbledore.

Anyone else would have faltered under the gaze that was directed at him, but Dumbledore pressed on.

"Severus, what happened?" he asked, in a last attempt to get the man to spill.

"Nothing happened, that's what. Now will you bloody well leave me alone?" Severus snapped moodily, without warning. He then leaned his head back against the back of his bed, exhausted.

Dumbledore, knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere, stole a glance at Draco, who was standing in the same place as before. The blood had come back to his face, but he still hadn't said a thing. How…unlike him. A vague suspicion tugged at Dumbledore's mind, though whether it really was suspicion or actual knowledge, he didn't know for sure.

Staring back at Severus, who appeared to be ignoring his presence now, a wave of memories came back to Dumbledore. This wasn't the first time he had seen Severus like this, and Severus knew it.

This was the same boy who had attempted to commit suicide in his third year at Hogwarts by ingesting poison, in his fifth year by jumping from the Astronomy tower, in his sixth year by throttling himself, and most recently during his first year as a teacher by attempting to drown himself in his chambers. Luckily, Albus or someone else had come along to prevent it every time.

Albus doubted that Severus had been trying to kill himself this time, the cutting was more of an extremely unhealthy habit of self abuse, the reason for the criss-crossing of scars on Severus's wrists and arms, and the reason the Potions Master always wore robes that covered up these parts, even on the most sweltering hot of days. It appeared that this time however, Severus had gotten carried away.

Dumbledore considered Severus as something similar to a son, and had felt a certain amount of guilt when Severus turned to the Dark Lord at the end of his seventh year. Somehow he felt like there was something he may have done to prevent it from happening which he had failed to do. For this reason he felt strangely responsible for the young man, after all, he did spy for them and bring back valuable information to the Order. But…tonight's events had seemed so sudden and unexpected. As far as his knowledge went, nothing had changed in Severus's life. Why this now?

There had to be a reason, and he intended to find out with time.