Author's Note: Okay, first, as you can tell, I like songs and lyrics. I listen to a lot of music when I write and the songs I use in the stories are songs that I've been listening to while I write. I know it's sad but I actually have a "soundtrack" for this story. sigh I need a life, I know. Second, I actually introduce an original character in this chapter but please, have no fear! She will be in this chapter and the next and will quietly go back into the recesses of my mind. Well, maybe. Anyway, she won't play that pivotal of a role to the story. With that said...may I present the next chapter!

Chapter Ten: The Bridge

When times get rough

And friends just can't be found

…

I will comfort you

I'll take your part

When darkness comes

And pain is all around

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down.

-Bridge Over Troubled Water, by Paul Simon

Deirdre Cafferty had studied under a great American witch that had been named the best legilimens of the age. Unfortunately, her teacher was too old and too full of other people's memories to be of any use anymore. Deirdre had been her one and final student in the obscure art of legilimency. Receiving her basic education at Hogwarts, in the same year as Snape ironically enough, she went back to her own country to be trained as an Auror but when her gift became apparent she was then trained as a legilimens interrogator. The American Magical Association claimed it was due to her skills that Voldemort failed in his attempt to plant Death Eaters across the pond.

Dumbledore had contacted her two days ago with an urgent request and begged her to come as soon as possible. She finished the case she was working on and passed off her paperwork to her partner before taking the international floo network directly to Dumbledore's office. He had cleared the connection with the British Ministry of Magic which meant he cleared her presence with them as well.

Apparently, he and his Order of the Phoenix rescued Snape, a reformed Death Eater according to Dumbledore, but Voldemort had already broken through Snape's mental shields shortly before they had gotten there and had a field day with the memories. They had thought he was fine as he participated partly in the fight but Voldemort's flight had not been far enough for the connection to be broken. Essentially, Severus Snape was trapped in a never ending nightmare.

Deirdre walked the halls of St. Mungo's with unease. She never was one for hospitals. There was too much fear, anxiety and grief. When people suffer through those types of emotions their mental barriers are nonexistent. It took most of her concentration to keep her mental barriers in place so the desperate thoughts didn't take over her own. She was going to need all the control she could muster. From the hurried research she did, there had been no account of a "mental surgery" done with legilimency. She wasn't sure it was even possible.

They kept him in a closed ward, most likely to give her quiet. There were only two people sitting by the bed, both looked vaguely familiar to her. They were from Hogwarts but three years had turned them all from bright eyed eighteen year olds to war worn twenty-one year olds. Three years…

"I'm sure you remember Lily Evans and Remus Lupin," Dumbledore introduced.

"Vaguely," Deirdre replied. "Gryffindor, right?"

The red headed woman nodded her head seriously.

"Cafferty?" Remus asked. "Ravenclaw?"

Deirdre nodded and tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear.

"I think we should all wait outside," Dumbledore said quietly. "I'm sure Miss Cafferty will need all her concentration."

"And a truck load of luck," she thought to herself. The three filed silently out of the room and Deirdre pulled up a chair close to the bed. Even though Evans and Lupin had changed just enough for her to guess their identities, she would have known Severus Snape anywhere. He looked like he had only grown half way into his lanky frame but his nose and hair made him unmistakable. Although he didn't appear in any physical distress, she could see his pulse beating rapidly beneath his almost transparent skin. His breathing was almost a constant ebb and flow of rapid breaths followed by shallower ones. There really was no worse prison than that of your own mind.

She couldn't establish eye contact but she found if she had a physical connection with the person it worked just as well. She took one of his long fingered hands into hers and was surprised at how ice cold they were. She moved herself into a comfortable position in her chair and closed her eyes. She concentrated on his pulse, feeling her own heart slow down and speed up till they were in synch. When she probed his mental shields she found the sizable breach that Voldemort had torn. Even that was going to be difficult to repair.

It was like walking through a rose bush. Every turn she took in his mind pricked, scratched and dug into her psyche from mild irritation to absolute agony. Dumbledore wasn't sugar coating the severity of damage that had been done to Severus' mind. She only hoped she had what it took to put it all back together. It seemed there were certain memories that were pieced together and put on a loop, merely repeating themselves over and over again. The feeling of watching the reel of memories was that of looking into a pensieve.

The first memory she saw was of a hook nosed man screaming at a dark haired woman. The man had taken off his belt and was using it as a make shift whip.

"You told me he wasn't going to be like you!" he was screaming.

If this was Severus' memory then he had to be around here somewhere. Deirdre looked around the small kitchen and finally caught sight of him: about seven years old, peering around the doorway that lead into the sitting room of the small house. Tears were running down his even then thin face. She reached out to touch him when the scene dissolved.

It must have been the same day only later on as Severus hadn't changed in looks at all. She was looking at a darkened bedroom, the woman she had seen on the receiving end of a beating was curled up on a small bed, crying quietly. The frightened and horribly repentant emotion that Severus was feeling during that time permeated Deirdre's psychic self. The boy crossed the creaky floorboards of the house towards the bed.

"Mum?" His voice was so quiet and timid. He reached the side of the bed and laid a hand on his mother's bruised arm. "Mum? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry-"

Deirdre watched as his mother turned over to look at him. She didn't say a word, she didn't have to. With great pain etched in her pale face, she gently but firmly pushed him away from her. Deirdre could tell his mother was sparing him the sight of her bruised face but feeling the same emotions as Severus, he took it as her rejection of him, his abilities and his apology.

The scene shifted into a flurry of scenes, some of which she had been present for as well. Various pranks and hexes he found himself on the losing end flashed in front of her, as well as that horrible day at the lake during their fifth year. She even saw her fifteen year old self, standing stone faced through the entire event. She had forgotten just how horrible James Potter and Sirius Black could be.

Everything changed again and she found herself back in the small, run down house where she had seen his parents before. Severus was grown now, around nineteen from the looks of it. He had his arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face as he stared down at the inebriated, bleary eyed waste of man sitting at the small kitchen table.

"What do you want?" he asked harshly.

The other man, who Deirdre recognized as his father, looked like he had aged fifty years. His hair had gone gray and his face was worn and lined, typical of an alcoholic. When he spoke, his words were slurred. There was an empty whiskey bottle on the table.

"I'm sorry."

Severus' black eyes narrowed. "For what?"

"I never meant to hit her."

The anger was roiling off of Severus in waves. She didn't even need to be part of his emotions to know what he was feeling.

"If that's all," Severus turned to leave when the old man reached out and grabbed the black cloak.

"It was an accident." Severus' father fell to his knees. "It was only an accident."

Severus ripped the material from the old man's hands. "What was an accident?"

The man's features hardened. "She knew we couldn't afford it…a broom," he laughed with derision. "Brooms don't cost fifty pounds…I hit her and I didn't mean…"

"Didn't mean what?"

The disgust evaporated as he covered his face with his hands. "She fell…hit her head…"

Deirdre's realization came at the same time as Severus'. She felt the guilt, shock and horror wash over him all at once. His mother's life ended because she wanted to buy him a broom. The anger mounted and she turned away as a flash of green light lit up the room. When she opened her eyes, Severus was sitting in a downpour of rain on a park bench. His sleeve was rolled up to reveal the Dark Mark that had been burned into his skin, water running in rivulets over the horrible marking. She saw his lips moving and leaned down to hear what he was saying.

"I really am one of them."

The rainy night faded and was replaced with a bright sunny day. Deirdre found herself in a tree looking down at a wedding. She looked again and realized the groom was James Potter and the bride was Lily Evans. It must have been the reception as the small group of people were whole heartedly enjoying themselves in the back yard of a quaint house. Why would Severus be interested in this?

She looked over at him, sprawled out amongst the branches and well hidden from the view of the guests. There was quiet, weary hungry look to his gaunt face as he watched Lily below him. Tears freely ran down his face and defeat was all he felt.

The loop of bad memories started again and Deirdre was looking at the beating of Severus' mother once more. Voldemort really did play havoc with Severus' mind. She had to find him, for he was there, locked up in the bad memories but she wasn't sure exactly how to go about finding him. The only way to get to him could possibly be through his former self. She blocked out the sickening sound of the belt connecting with his mother's skin and leaned down next to his crying seven year old persona.

"Hi, Severus."

He sniffled, glanced over at her before turning back to the scene.

"My name is Deirdre. I came to help you."

"I don't need your help."

"Why do you say that?"

The child version of himself took in a shuddering breath. "I don't deserve your help."

"That's not up to you to decide. I want to talk to you."

He turned wide, tear fill black eyes to her and pointed up the narrow staircase. She left him down there and climbed the stairs as quickly as she could. There were three doors in the second floor hallway and she went through the nearest one. It was a very drab, bare looking room. There was a single bed, a wardrobe and a small bookcase. On the small bed, a man in an oddly red colored shirt and black pants was lying with his back facing her.

"Severus?" she called, shutting the door to the bedroom. He made no movement. She walked around the side of the bed and saw that it was indeed the twenty-one year old Severus. She realized that the red shirt was not oddly colored but rather soaked with blood. His one eye was swollen shut and bruised, his lip was split. She didn't noticed the other wounds but sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, Sev."

He turned to look at her. "What do you want?"

Apparently it was the nickname that got a response out of him so she decided to use it to her advantage. "I want to help you, Sev. But I need your input."

"Go away. You can't help me."

"Why not?"

"I deserve this."

"What makes you say that, Sev?"

He turned his head away from her, burying his face into the pillow. "Don't call me that."

"Who used to call you that?"

"Don't."

Deirdre sat there and thought about who could have called him that. His mother? Something told her that his mother wasn't fond of nicknames. Perhaps it was Lily Evans?

"Was it Lily?"

He sighed deeply, tiredly. He was very close to giving up now and she needed to reach him before he did.

"Sev, tell me about Lily. What was something you two did together?"

"Not enough," came his muffled answer.

"Show me," Deirdre urged. "Show something fun that you and Lily did together. Please?" She laid her hand on his arm and squeezed. "You must have one happy memory of her."

The bedroom started to change slightly but it faded back into the dull walls.

"I can't."

Deirdre climbed onto the small bed with him and wrapped her arms protectively around him. Voldemort's presence was no longer in his mind but the Dark Lord had effectively created a prison of misery for Severus. She hoped that by mentally wrapping herself around his wounded psyche, it would be enough for him to break the hold.

"Try again, Sev."

She felt his ice cold hands come up to grasp her wrists and slowly, heat came back the chilled skin. She closed her eyes and concentrated on blocking out the bad memories as they ripped and scratched at her mind. After a few minutes time, she heard the sound of a babbling brook and felt sunlight prickle her skin. Opening her eyes, she found Severus and herself laying on soft grass in a small clearing in the woods. Looking across the small stream she could see two children, one red haired and the other black headed and no more that eleven, stretched out on the grass. Looking over, she saw the adult Severus, watching the two of them with a contented smile. Without saying anything else, Deirdre quietly removed herself from Severus' mind.

Deirdre quietly shut the door behind her. Dumbledore, Remus and Lily all stood up, concern written on their faces. She gave them a shaky smile.

"He's sleeping now, hopefully peacefully. I don't know if it worked. If it did, that doesn't mean he won't need more help."

"What kind of help?" Remus asked.

"Counseling, I would suggest." Some of the images of Severus' childhood plagued her. She was going to need counseling.

"Would you be able to stay for a few days?" Dumbledore asked her. "You can stay at the school. Professor Flitwick is expecting you should you agree."

Deirdre nodded. "Of course I'll stay a few days." She turned towards Lily. "I was wondering if I could speak to you before I go to the school."

The redhead nodded. "Sure."

Deirdre knew of the small chapel that was two floors below them and she headed off towards there. It was quiet and secluded enough for what she had to discuss with Lily. She had a feeling that Severus' well-being may very well lie with this woman. Not to mention, she needed a few moments of peace to heal her own mental wounds.