Hi-dee-ho I'm back again!

A big thanks to all my reviewers out there, I enjoy each and every one of them ;)

This chapter was relatively easy for me to write, drawing on my experiences in therapy for PTSD and the aftermath of abuse. Some moments and symptoms that Severus will describe in this chapter are actually altered tales of mine and my mother's own PTSD induced breakdowns. I hope knowing that these examples are based in reality does not make anyone too uncomfortable, but rather gives them clarity to just how PTSD can hurt and even hinder one's life.

With that being said, I humbly ask you to read this chapter.

If Someone Cared Enough

Chapter Nineteen: What's the prognosis, Doc?

Severus's initial thoughts of Marcus's office were that it was nothing remarkable. It contained the standard fair for a doctors office, the diploma's on the wall, a mahogany desk with knick-knacks like the clanging balls on a wire, some chairs and a fairly nice rug on the floor. The curtains were thick navy blue and went to the floor, collecting dust at the hem and bookcases lined the walls containing various theories and discoveries about the mind and emotions.

There were only three things worthy of any notice in the room as far as Severus was concerned: a large antique grandfather clock instead of the stand wall clock, a pot of greenish sand upon the fireplace mantel, and a large painting of a garden on the wall behind the chair clients typically sat in. What was peculiar about this particular painting was it seemed like the flowers were out of focus, as though there should be something in the forefront of the painting to draw the viewer's eye…yet the garden was devoid of any person.

"I'm glad you decided to take me up on my offer, Severus," Marcus stated with a smile.

Severus shifted in his seat, "It wasn't really much of a choice. Lily has been relentless about me needing to open up. At least here I can speak where things will remain confidential."

"Lily's that redheaded girl that was with you at the fair, yes?" Marcus asked, "Do you mind if I ask what she is to you?"

Severus snorted, "We're jumping right into this then, I see. Lily is my friend. My best friend. We've known each other for years."

"She's very important to you," Marcus noted.

Severus nodded, "She's the first person I ever met who was like me. I mean…I know my mother is a witch, but she uses magic so little and she's an adult anyway. When I met Lily, it was my first time meeting someone in the same position as me; new to magic, just discovering all the power at my fingertips," Severus gazed down at his hands, "She was the one who really understood what it was like. I felt that…connected us somehow."

"Lily's played a very important role in your life then," Marcus said, "She's been there for some of your most important moments in life."

Severus allowed himself a small smile, "She has. When we got our letters to Hogwarts, we hid down by the creek and read them together. We didn't want anyone else seeing them yet; not even our families. We were special and we finally had the evidence right there in our hands."

Marcus nodded, scribbling a few notes, "You live near one another?"

"We used to," Severus said, "But after the incident with my father, I've been living with Lily and her family."

"What incident was that?" Marcus inquired, an eyebrow raised.

Severus shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at the therapist, "…I was removed from my parent's custody…after my father tried to kill me."

Marcus's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "I see."

"He was just choking me," Severus brushed it off casually, "but he was talking about killing me so…well that's what we figured he was going for."

Marcus tapped his pen against his notepad, regarding Severus with a critical eye, "You said 'just choking you'…I wasn't aware that choking someone was a mild action. It isn't often I hear someone trivialize such a thing."

Severus grimaced, "He could have done worst. It wouldn't have been the first time."

"So him inflicting harm on you was a common occurrence in your home," Marcus stated more than asked.

Severus shrugged, "You could say that. Just about everything pissed him off and mum and I always got the worst of his bad mood. His drinking didn't help anything."

"What set him off the night of the incident?" Marcus asked.

"He and mum were fighting again, I guess. I was on the phone with Lily so I missed most of it. But then he came after me…with how he was talking, it seemed his goal was to punish mum, through me," Severus explained.

Marcus made a mote of that, "Did he do that often?"

Severus searched his memory, "Not really…? Usually I would get dragged into their fights because I said something or tried to intervene. He rarely hurt one of us to get back at the other; I didn't think a liquor soaked brain like his could come up with an idea like that."

"It's safe to say your father's relationship with both you and your mother was a hostile one," Marcus observed, "How severe would the abuse get?"

Severus leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, "Pretty rough, I suppose. He wasn't the type to care about hiding the marks; not that anyone in my side of the neighborhood cared enough to notice. He always aimed for the face, smacked us around some when he was drunk…he liked to drag us by our hair. It's all been the same song and dance since I was little. He'd come home drunk and pissed, I'd get in his way, he'd lay into me good. Rise and repeat."

"Get in his way," Marcus repeated, "You sound as though you are blaming yourself for being there."

"I'm not," Severus denied, "I'm just saying that he'd be mad if I crossed his path when he was in that sort of mood."

"But you're still putting emphasis on your own actions. 'Crossed his path', you're pointing out your own actions as though they have correlation between them and what your father did."

Severus blinked, "Well…that's because they did. He'd get mad and when he saw me he'd beat me."

"See, that's a better statement," Marcus pointed out, "You're putting all the emphasis on your father's actions now. What you do should have no bearing on what he does."

"But no, you see it did," Severus insisted, growing frustrated, "Everything I did upset him. All I had to do was say the wrong thing or look at him funny and I'd get hit for it."

"Severus, your father made the decision to resort to violence all on his own," Marcus said firmly, "You didn't push him to it. Nothing you did really matter; he would have found any reason to take out his anger on you or your mother."

"I know that," Severus snapped, "Don't take me for a fool. I didn't make him do a thing. But I could have prevented it. I could have avoided the house longer into the evening, until he fell asleep, or snuck in the back door while he was on the couch. I'm just saying that there were ways I could have gone to avoid getting caught but sometimes I was careless."

"But careless or not, you're father hitting you wasn't a result of anything you did or failed to do," Marcus said, "Surely there were times when you did everything right and he sought you out instead, right? You shouldn't have to feel like it is your job to avoid bearing the brunt of your father's anger."

Severus frowned, "Well at the very least I could have done a better job defending myself. That man is like, what, one hundred and thirty pounds when wet? I should have been able to put up a better fight."

"All this blame you are putting on yourself, it sounds an awful lot like self-loathing," Marcus said.

Severus glared at him, "It does not. I don't hate myself if that's what you're saying."

Marcus held his hands up, "I never said you hate yourself only that it comes off that way regardless of your intentions. Severus, I am not here to tell you what to feel or tell you what it is you are feeling. I make no accusations here. But I do think it prudent to inform you how your words and behaviors are perceived from an outside perspective. You place blame on yourself for what happened; I only wish to know why you feel this way and why responsibility for your father's actions should fall on anyone aside from him."

"Of course he's responsible for what he did!" Severus snapped, standing up so fast his chair nearly fell backwards, "I'm not so stupid as to think I somehow brought it on myself. I don't deserve what he did to me; if anything he deserves to rot in jail for doing it!" Severus stood there panting, glaring angrily down at Marcus. When all Marcus did was stared thoughtfully back at him, it only served to irritate Severus further.

"I'm just saying that I should have been able to defend myself. I have in the past. If things ever really got out of hand, I got away, sometimes I even got a hit in myself. That night should have been the same. But I couldn't protect myself. I failed. I was weak," Severus slumped into his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face, "I couldn't even defend my mother, let alone myself. He was drunk enough a gust of wind could have knocked him over and he overpowered me. That wasn't supposed to happen. I could have stopped it; I know I could. But I fucked up. Let my guard down."

"And what about the other times, Severus," Marcus prompted, "Do you feel you messed up then too? When your father would do some real damage?"

"I usually could hear him coming," Severus said softly, "could see the look in his eye. Normally I knew how to stay out of the way and avoid the whole thing. But sometimes, I'd slip up, leave my door open a crack so he'd end up remembering I was in there, let my temper get the best of me and say something when I could have just sneaked by and have him not notice me. Whenever he got hold of me, it was because I wasn't fast enough, or forgot to lay low."

"As it is," Severus went on, "All of this would have ended long ago if I had just used magic on him. A flick of my wand and I could have him begging for mercy, too afraid to ever raise a hand to me again. Instead, I clung to that stupid age restriction rule year after year, hit after hit. I wouldn't have even had to use the bloody thing; I could just point my wand at him and make him cower if I wanted to. And I wanted to...But I never did. I could have stopped all of this, but I was too chicken shit to do it, afraid I'd be expelled and forced to live with that pathetic lump in that sorry little hovel with no reprieve."

"Severus," Marcus began, "Do you honestly believe that by not stopping the abuse you were somehow condoning it?"

"Well what would you call it?" Severus said with a flippant wave of his hand.

"Wrong!" Marcus blurted out, horrified, "I'd call it wrong! Severus, no matter what you do or don't do, your father never should have laid a hand on you or your mother. That rests entirely on his shoulders and nothing you could have done would contribute to or encourage it. You could have been a model son and student, quiet as a church mouse and keeping that house spotless and he still would have beat you. That's how abusers work. They don't find reasons to hurt someone, they aren't presented with reasons, they invent reasons! If you had done nothing to piss him off, he just would have found a reason why that in and of itself upset him. Think hard about this, about all you know of your father, can you honestly think of a circumstance where he wouldn't be a cruel person?"

Severus thought long and hard on that, using his imagination. Yet, no matter how creative he tried to be in making a different life—nice house, lots of money, his mother a glowing model of a housewife with fine meals on the table and a string of pearls around her neck—he still saw his father standing there, stained shirt, bottle in his fist and a scowl on his face.

"No," Severus said after a while, "I see your point."

Marcus sighed, relieved, "And I'm glad of that. Severus, fighting back would have solved nothing. Sure in the moment you'd escape the attack, but he'd only come back harder next time, anticipating resistance. He wouldn't see it as a sign you were not to be messed with. Not even magic would convince him of that. An abuser twists and distorts reality to justify the abuse. In his mind he is 'in the right' for hurting you because he sees the things he's mad about as being perfectly reasonable excuses to get violent. He may even see himself as the victim here; that is how screwy an abuser can think. 'Woe is me; I'm living with a witch and a wizard!' If you fought back or threatened him with magic, all he would see is vindication for his own actions, his own warped 'proof' that he is in the right and you are the bad guy."

Severus grimaced, "I hadn't thought of that. You really think he doesn't see what he does as wrong? He can't see that it's sick and twisted to beat on a defenseless woman and child?"

"Oh I'm sure some part of him knows it isn't right," Marcus stated, "after all, he knows there are laws against violence, he knows society would be against his actions if the police found out. But honestly, no, I don't believe he sees it as wrong. He's aware that others would perceive it as such, but in his mind, he is merely doing what you 'drove him to', that you were somehow 'asking for it'. No, Severus, you wouldn't be able to reason with your father. If anything he'd deflect, blame it on you, focus on your faults to avoid acknowledging his own."

Severus slumped further in his chair, "So I would have been well and truly fucked either way…pardon me."

Marcus waved his hands, "Hey, feel free to cuss however much you like. The point of these session is to liberate you, give you the freedom to express yourself. If swearing helps you unload, then do it."

Severus smirked, "Duly noted."

Marcus decided to divert the conversation to ease Severus back into some level of comfort since the current subject was so touchy.

Asked about his school life, Severus told Marcus about his troubles with Potter and his gang, about falling in with the wrong crowd and nearly losing Lily to that decision. He talked about being nearly tricked into joining a group led by You-Know-Who and how he had been led to believe the group would be about freeing wizards from secrecy instead of hiding from muggles.

Marcus occasionally asked questions or delved deeper into a topic, but for the most part he listened intently, writing down anything he felt noteworthy.

"Let's move on shall we?" Marcus suggested, "Let's talk about…oh, let's talk about that day at the fair, alright?"

Severus looked away, "Do I have a choice?"

Marcus laughed, "Of course you do. I'm not going to force you to discuss anything you do not wish to. I'm asking for your permission to discuss this, Severus; you don't have to say yes."

Severus thought about it, side-eyeing Marcus, "What did you want to discuss."

Taking that as a cue to continue, Marcus smiled, relieved, "What happened that day? In your own words."

Severus thought back to the fair, absent-mindedly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, "Everything was fine at first. I was actually having fun. I don't usually like big crowds or events, but there were some things that caught my interest for once and Lily was so happy to have me there and…" he trailed off, a hint of a smile on his face, "She had begged me to come, said it wouldn't be the same without me."

"That must have meant a lot to you," Marcus said knowingly.

"It did," agreed Severus, "Anyway, we decided to see some musicians by the stage. The music was nice so we thought we'd see them up close. But the crowd was bigger than I thought. Normally…crowds don't really bother me any, they just annoy me really. But I got pushed into the thick of it and everyone was bumping into each other." Severus sighed, "I couldn't really see over anyone with their hands all in the air and no one could hear me telling them to 'back off'. I was getting….I don't know, frustrated? I couldn't hear my own voice with all the noise. Noise normally isn't a problem but…things started to get fuzzy, like everything was slowing down and speeding up at the same time. I felt…wrong somehow. I wasn't able to do anything to get out and it made things worse."

"You didn't have control," Marcus pointed out.

Severus nodded, "I guess. After a while, the noise sort of started to fade out, like it was muffled or something. I almost felt like I wasn't in my own body, you know?" He raked a hand through his hair, "It's hard to explained."

"I understand, Severus," Marcus told him, "It was like you were disconnecting from it."

Severus nodded eagerly, "Exactly like that! It was like I was shutting down or something…or shutting it out, maybe? I felt almost better…then those fireworks went off and people screamed. I felt..."

"What did you feel?" Marcus prompted.

Severus looked down, "Like there was a hole in my stomach…or the bottom of my stomach had dropped out. I felt tense, sick even, like something bad was going to happen."

"Did that feeling seem familiar?" Marcus asked, a strange, knowing look in his eye.

Slowly Severus nodded, "…sometimes…when I was little, I spent more time in the house instead of outside. Without Tobias in the house, it would be peaceful and quiet. But when he got home…sometimes the front door would slam open real loud or I'd hear something crash…and I'd know it was going to be one of those nights. I felt the same feeling in my stomach at the fair."

Marcus rubbed his chin, nodding, "Have you ever had similar experiences of panic?"

Severus started to shake his head, but thought better of it, "Nothing that big...but sometimes," he fidgeted in place, the chair creaking, "Sometimes, being touched at random startles me. Well, more than startle really. It isn't the same as a friend jumping out at you for fun; you yell, you catch your breath, then you laugh about it. But this is different, I feel...wronged somehow, like violated. It seems silly, but I feel rather upset and...indignant I guess, that someone would be in my space."

"You're mad they touched you?" Marcus asked.

Severus shook his head, "Not mad just...rattled? Most times I don't even react that way to contact, but sometimes," he swept a hand across his brow, "it can be a touch too firm, too unexpected, maybe it lingers too long and I feel like I'm...transported back to my house with Tobias smacking me around. It makes no sense! I mean, Tobias hit me, beat me; someone grabbing my shoulder shouldn't affect me."

"Severus, much of your life has been you lacking control over the simplest things," Marcus said, "even something as small as telling people not to touch you was a right you had stripped away at a young age. Your father had no right to hit you and subconsciously, you know this. So your body has started setting up it's own boundaries instinctively; mentally you are setting up defenses for yourself and you feel those boundaries have been crossed when someone touches you."

Severus sighed, "Wonderful. I already am known as the creepy, twitchy kid in school, let's add a fear of being touched to that."

"Surely that's not how you think of yourself?" Marcus questioned.

"That's how others think of me," Severus replied, "The kids at school."

"Does that bother you?" Marcus inquired.

Severus shrugged, "Not really. Most of them are dunderheads anyway. It isn't like their opinions matter to me. Most of them will not amount to anything in their lives, lets be honest."

Marcus looked amused, "You're not a people person, are you, Severus?"

"I find most social experiences exhausting," Severus drawled.

"Would you say that is because you are an introvert? Or is it social anxiety?" Marcus queried.

Severus sneered, "Oh, so now wanting to spend time to oneself is a syptom of something greater?"

It was Marcus's turn to shrug, "Not necessarily. You could just be an introvert. The thing you need to find out is if you want to be alone because you enjoy the privacy and quiet...or because the company and activity unsettles you? Which is it?"

Severus mulled that over, unsure how to respond, "I'm...not sure. I've never thought about it before..."

Marcus held up his hands, "We don't need an answer now; it's just food for thought. How about we come back to that a different day? Any other difficulties you've been having?"

Severus ran his tongue across his lips, wetting the dry chapped skin. Staring at his hands, he made another confession, "I don't do well with yelling."

Marcus leaned back, eyebrows raised, "What would you call not handling it well?"

"I can't be around it," Severus explained, "I-I take off. I usually sneak away at school when people start yelling. Cling to the wall, slide out without anyone's notice. I'm not sure why, but once people start raising their voices, I just can't be around them. It didn't happen too often at school, but no it seems to be a regular occurrence. I could understand if someone was yelling at me and it upset me, but two complete strangers could be shouting it out and I just need to get away. If I can't I just sort of...what's the word you used?"

"Disconnect?" Marcus offered.

Severus nodded, "Yes, that."

"Now you said earlier that you are bullied a lot at school," Marcus brought up, "How did you feel when those confrontations happened?"

Severus frowned angrily, "Not like running away, if that's what you are asking. Those rotters piss me off; I would never run away from them if there was a chance I could let them have it."

"Was there a lot of yelling or physical violence during those fights?" Marcus asked curiously.

"No, just a of of taunting and hexes usually. If they ever did yell, I yelled back anyway. That always felt satisfying," Severus said honestly.

"But for the most part things were just spell work and name calling," Marcus summarized, writing this down, "It would seem that yelling or screaming has a different effect on you, no doubt because you connect it to the fighting in your home that usually ended with violence against you or at the very least your mother, whom you care dearly about. For that reason is triggers your fight or flight response more so than fighting your bullies."

"Is that common?" Severus asked warily, "With abuse victims?"

"Oh yes," Marcus affirmed, "Especially for what you're going through. All these symptoms, these knee jerk reactions of yours, their all the sort of thing I'd see in disaster survivors, returning soldiers from the war, etc. Trauma manifests itself in many ways in survivors; defensiveness, anger or aggression...that chewing you been doing around your fingers," he gestured to Severus's hands, "Developing certain habits, some self destructive even, are quite common here. They're basically coping mechanisms and they each have their own functions for a victim; causing pain releases endorphin, repetitive habits give a person a sense of control, erratic mood swings allow a person to express things they usually repress. In any other case, we'd call it PTSD. And I think it is safe to say it applies here."

"PTSD?" Severus asked, confused.

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," Marcus explained, "It's had other names over the years; Gross Stress Reaction, Battle Fatigue, Combat Stress Reaction, and so on. It's still a relatively new diagnosis. In fact, it hasn't even been labeled as an official mental disorder yet by various Psychiatric Associations; though personally I believe it should be."

Marcus took off his glasses and wiped the lenses, "Now, this disorder has been applied mostly to soldiers, but it is my belief—as well as the belief of many other medical professionals the world over—that any traumatic event can trigger such symptoms in a person, be it war, or surviving a natural disaster, or…even severe abuse."

Severus frowned, "So what are you saying?"

Marcus smiled at Severus, "I'm saying that what you are going through is understandable. You aren't the only one in the world who has processed trauma like this, Severus, not by a long shot. Tell me, can you think of anyone else who's acted similarly?"

Severus was silent for a long time, lost in his thoughts. Finally, he answered, "My mother."

Marcus nodded, leaning back in his chair and steepling his hands together, "Would you feel comfortable sharing with me?"

Severus shrugged, "There's not much to tell. It was only this one time, really—when I was little. My grandmother on my fa—on Tobias's side was still alive. One year, Tobias was arrested for fighting at a bar. Not sure what he did, but he had to serve some time locked up for it, more than he ever got for hitting us. My mum and me…we lived off his pay from the mill. We were of out of money without him, so we were sent to live with his mother." Severus smiled fondly at the memory, "She was nice; mum had gotten sort of quiet when the abuse from Tobias first started so she never really played with me anymore. But my grandmum, she would bake cookies and sing me songs and listen to me talk for hours, looking at me like I was the most precious thing in the world."

"You must have loved that," Marcus mused.

Severus nodded, "I did. I never got that sort of attention from Tobias, not after I started showing signs of magic. I don't know if my grandmother ever knew I was a wizard, but while she was alive she loved me and that was all that mattered."

"And what about the incident with your mother?" Marcus inquired.

Severus frowned, "Gran lived on the top floor of this little building, there was this long staircase up to her flat that would echo when you walked on it. We stayed there for over a month while dad was locked up. One time, Mum was actually talking to me, telling me stories about Hogwarts—I think my grandmother thought they were just fairytales. Anyway, it had been all quiet and peaceful and then, there' was this loud slam at the foot of the stairwell and someone pounding up the stairs. The door flung open and Grandmother's neighbor burst in. He had come to tell her that his daughter had just been born, it wasn't anything bad…but my mother…"

Marcus gestured for Severus to continued, "Take your time, Severus."

Severus looked down, picking at the skin on his fingers, "Mum had jumped up and gotten to the other side of the room in a matter of seconds. Plastered herself against the wall; she didn't even remember moving. Gran yelled at her neighbor for scaring mum, sent him on his way. I think she knew deep down what was going on at home, but…it's just how some families are, I guess, so she never intervened, like it was mum and Tobias' job to work things out. She asked my mum if she was okay…and mum just broke down crying. Never said a word; she just cried."

"She eventually left the room, locked herself up in the bathroom," Severus continued, "She was gone a long while. When she came back, she acted as if nothing had happened. They both did."

"That was PTSD, Severus," Marcus stated, "It's part of the human condition—an instinct, if you will—to sometimes process severe risks or events threatening extreme harm and then develop reactionary triggers in order to best assure our safety in the future. As humans, we do this naturally. Centuries ago, almost everyone would have behaved as such solely as a means to survive. The problem is surviving like this sometimes comes at the cost of living; it hinders you, Severus."

Severus looked away, "Like at the fair."

Marcus nodded, "Exactly."

"Great, so I'm just going to spend my life missing out on things that matter to me or ruining them because I can't control this?" Severus asked.

Marcus patted Severus's shoulder sympathetically, "No, not necessarily. You see, Severus, as logic and reason began to develop in humankind, we learned how to control emotional responses better, to avoid being restricted by fears and superstitions. We can assess how we feel and why we feel it to come up with more appropriate and logical responses to it. Some fear and caution is good; they're the instincts we carry with us to help us remember basic dangers, like how fire is hot, and how some things are poisonous."

He fixed Severus with a meaningful stare, "It's when we stop living our lives out of these fears that it becomes necessary to treat the problem at its core and limit the hold fear has over us. That's what I want to help you do."

"I'm not afraid of my father," Severus insisted stubbornly.

"Maybe fear wasn't the right word," Marcus agreed, "Let's go with...anxiety? Apprehension? Immense dislike? Pick any of them; my point is that you are instinctively distancing yourself from certain possibilities you think pose a risk to you. You are subconsciously avoiding that which could hurt you. That's all understandable; no one likes to be hurt."

"I hate my father," Severus said dourly.

"And you hate being hurt," Marcus said, pointing his pen at Severus, "But aside from a few hiccups here and there, you haven't had much of a problem at school with PTSD symptoms. It's now that you are back in Cokeworth and staying with Lily's family that the symptoms have kicked up a notch."

"What are you getting at?" Severus asked.

"You aren't bothered by wizards, Severus," Marcus pointed out, "You seem quite confident you can handle them. The only abuse you couldn't defend yourself from was at the hands of your father...Severus, how do you feel about non-magical people?"

Severus froze up, sitting up straight in his chair, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, your biggest trauma comes from abuse from someone lacking magic—you call them muggles, right? My cousin said you call us muggles. Anyway, it wouldn't be unusual for those experiences with someone unlike you to shape your opinions of others of that same category. You're a wizard, your father is a muggle. Does his abuse of you have an effect on how you view other muggles?"

Severus looked away, unable to meet Marcus's earnest stare.

After a few moments of tense silence—for Severus at least—Severus spoke, "I guess I don't think too highly of many of them," he shifted slightly, crossing one leg over the other, "most of them."

"You don't like them, or you don't trust them?" Marcus inquired.

"Both, really," Severus admitted, "The ones around my neighborhood were all drunks and liars, thieves and criminals like my dad. The whole lot of them were worthless. And the ones around the rest of town aren't much better; all high and mighty, looking down their noses at me as though I chose to dress in ragged clothes too big for me that don't match. They pull their kids away from me when I walk around town, acting like I'm no good..." Severus fiddled with his shirt, "They all look at me like they expect me to turn out like my father."

"Which understandably upsets you," Marcus summed up.

Severus nodded.

"So did you know the group your classmates were recruiting for had plans to hurt muggles?" Marcus asked.

Severus shrugged, scuffing his feet on the floor, "There were rumors, but I thought it was all talk; propaganda by people like the Gryffindors who are fine with hiding magic away to keep the peace. The Slytherins, Avery and Mulciber and his ilk, they said the real goal was to bring wizards out of the shadows, so that we didn't have to hide our magic like we are ashamed of it."

Severus looked up at Marcus embarrassed, "It sounded so appealing; I hated not being able to do magic in Cokeworth during the summers. I feel like I'm not able to be myself. Every other kid in town gets to go around showing off what makes them special, but I can't? It isn't exactly what I call fair."

"You were promised a chance to be proud of who you were and have others recognize it," Marcus said, "I can see how that would be tempting for someone who has been under appreciated most of his life. And from what I understand you are an exceptional student and wizard; it must be frustrating to not be able to have anyone see that."

Severus nodded eagerly, "It is."

"So your classmates never made mention of hurting people?" Marcus prodded, "Like muggles?"

Severus paused, lips pursed in discomfort, "They did say some people might get hurt—but only those who deserved it! They told me people like my father would finally get what they deserved; Potter and his friends too. I mean, so what if Tobias or the people in my neighborhood got hurt; they were just stupid muggles—no offense," he added, a red flush spreading across his face at his slip.

Marcus waved him off, "None taken, I got what you meant."

Severus tried not to let it show how ashamed he was of himself, "I swear, I had no idea they wanted to hurt innocent people. I never thought they wanted to hurt people like Lily." Severus looked ashamed, "I know they don't like muggleborns, but I thought it was the way I didn't like them. Muggles and most of my classmates annoy me, bother me, but I never wanted to torture one of them. Just...tell them to piss off. But my father...I really, really wanted to hurt him..."

"Your classmates preyed upon your circumstances in order to get you on their side," Marcus stated, "They played on your anger and desire for acknowledgment because they knew it was what you wanted to hear. Did anyone ever try to get through to you?"

"Lily tried," Severus replied, "Dozens of times. But she was telling me what to do more than talking to me and I hate being talked down to. It just made me dig in my heels even more if I'm being honest. It didn't help that she was ranting about how Avery and them were bad to the core for hurting others and yet willing to see some good in Potter despite his willingness to hurt me."

"So you refused to see her side because she refused to see yours," Marcus said.

"Yes," Severus said, "I know that seems childish, but it was hard to be expected to see her side of things when she was never willing to see mine. She comes from such a nice family in a nice neighborhood and everyone likes her; she doesn't understand what it is like to come from nothing, to have nothing and then have people come along who not only promise you can be something, but tell you that you're special, that you're important."

"So what made you change your mind?" Marcus asked.

"Lily," was Severus's reply, "They attacked her and when they saw me they honestly expected me to be okay with it. As if our friendship ending somehow meant she no longer deserved to be treated like a person. I...it made me think of my mum, how Tobias treats her. She thinks I don't understand what goes on after I go to bed, but I do. It doesn't matter if she doesn't want to, he would make her do it. I walked in on them once, when I was little. That day on the train, I saw my mum in how Lily was looking at me, like she was praying I wouldn't see it but hoping I would save her."

Marcus nodded, "And that's when you turned against them."

Severus shrugged, "I suppose that's exactly what I did. They stopped pretending and ended up showing me exactly what they thought of muggleborns and it wasn't something I could go along with. That was the biggest reason, but there were others too. Simone was talking with me quite a bit leading up to that day, ever since the falling out with Lily. She really made me think. It helped that she wasn't just flinging accusations at me and demanding I agree with her. She actually just stated her opinion and asked me to mull it over. I had actually been thinking about what she said when I walked into that compartment on the train."

The pair sat in silence for a while, just letting the quiet seep in. The ticking of the grandfather clock and the traffic rolling by outside were the only sounds.

Marcus lightly slapped his palms down on his knees, "Well Severus, this may be a heavy discussion for you, but I have good news: you're already on your way to treating your PTSD."

Severus looked up, confused, "I am?"

Marcus nodded, "Given everything you've been through, it would be easy for you to hate all muggles, to wish them harm for what your father has done to you and your mother. But you're not letting that hate consume you. It may influence your feelings towards muggles, but only a little bit. You haven't let it turn you into the monster your classmates have become; you can put your trauma aside enough to recognize that muggles aren't responsible for what your father did and that they don't deserve to suffer. That's a big step; much of the prejudice of the world stems from a person letting one or two interactions with one individual shape their perceptions on a whole group. You're not letting your experiences change you like that."

"I almost did," Severus said, ashamed.

"But you changed your path before it got to that," Marcus pointed out, "And that's a big deal. I think it's wonderful you have someone like Lily in your life if she means that much to you to step away from monumental mistakes like that."

Severus smiled, "Yeah, I'm really lucky to have her as a friend."

"So is there any chance you to could be more than friends?" Marcus asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Severus flushed crimson, "That's not something I want to discuss."

Marcus laughed, "I'm only teasing. Don't let me rattle you. Actually, our session is up for today. I think we've established some good starting points here. Now we know were to go from here and where we need to focus."

Marcus stood up and held out a hand, "I'm glad you came to join me today, Severus. I really feel this will help you in the long run."

Severus shook Marcus's hand firmly, "I hope so. I trust my record will be kept private, especially given the more...magical elements of it?"

Marcus grinned sneakily, "Oh, I have a special place for the more 'private' files."

Gesturing Severus to follow him, Marcus led Severus over to the grandfather clock. Shooting Severus a crafty grin, he open the front of the clock and wound the long hand three times counterclockwise and then the little hand once clockwise. Before their eyes, the twelve changed to a 13. There was a moments pause, and then the lower front part of the grandfather clock where the etchings were seemingly melted away, revealing a small safe.

"My cousin got this for me when I said I wanted to help wizards as well as muggles," Marcus explained, "He said that hiding magical files was best done with magic. Makes sense, right?"

Marcus placed his notes and Severus's file in the safe. Bringing both hands of the clock up from opposite directions, he aligned them so they pointed at the number thirteen. The front of the clock materialized back into place and the hands moved of their own accord back to the correct time.

"That should keep things safe," Marcus said, satisfied, "And the hands only work when I touch them; anyone else messing with this is just winding the clock wrong. Isn't that neat?"

Severus smiled wryly, "It certainly is."

"Well I think we've made some lovely progress here," Marcus said, leading Severus to the door, "I hope to see you the same time next week."

"Oh and Severus," Marcus called as Severus headed out the door, "Do say hi to Lily for me."

With a laugh at Severus red face, Marcus waved merrily and returned to his office.

This might be my first ever chapter that stays solely on one scene all throughout. Woo!

So like I warned you, this chapter dealt with some heavy stuff, much of which drawn from my own experiences. Marcus briefly eludes to one of my own conditions, Dermatophagia, the compulsion to gnaw and eat ones own skin, particularly around the fingers. I don't believe the condition was recognized as an actual condition on its own during Severus's youth, but it was being noted as a symptom of other underlying problems and prominent in overly anxious and stressed people and those with OCD.

I won't lie, being able to convey some form of what I've been through is very cathartic. I relate to and resonate with Severus Snape very much, given that our lives were shape by abuse and neglect and a lack of help from authority who should have protected us (in my case it was the limited resources and services for the mentally ill allowing my abuser to constantly sign themselves out of the hospital and return to the cycle of abuse). Had I not had the help of some tried and true friends, I probably would have gone down the tempting path of self destruction; believe me I say giving into hate and bitterness is very, VERY tempting.

So this story has been very important to me as it allows me to unpack all that I feel makes up the tragic character that is Severus Snape while looking for ways he could have been helped, often times using my own experiences seeking help as the plot.

As usual I thank you all for reading and graciously ask you to review.