December 1993
If Liz was being honest, she never liked eating in the Great Hall.
It wasn't really about the eating itself...she didn't think? At first, anyway, way back in first year, there had been a faint, niggling anxiety that, in retrospect, was obviously stupid brain stuff. She'd never been just given food like this before, allowed to take whatever she wished, not without paying for it or compelling people to let her have it with mind magic. She suspected she'd been worried at a level less than entirely conscious that someone would come over and yell at the ungrateful freak for taking more than she ought, that the plate would be whisked away and...well, she didn't know, exactly — this was years ago, and she was hardly the most self-aware person on the planet to begin with. Whatever had been going on, as months went on with nothing happening, she'd gotten over that, at least. She didn't like being watched but, unlike what she suspected Severus's problem with it was, the fact that she was eating at the time didn't really make it worse. It was shite for her appetite sometimes, though, especially on the days people were paying more attention to her than usual she only ate because she knew she was supposed to (and she'd be hungry once she was alone if she didn't) and not because she really wanted to.
When it came down to it, she just generally didn't like crowds, though she couldn't even express to herself why, just one of those things. She didn't like watching the quidditch games so much for the same reason — it also didn't help that the game was much more boring to watch than to play — but at least those were outside, having everyone crammed into one room, no matter how big, was significantly worse.
They weren't packed in as closely, for the most part, and if she sat on the outside bench at the Slytherin table (as she usually did when they weren't at one of the other tables) at least she wasn't surrounded. So, she would almost think it shouldn't be as bad as the quidditch games...if it weren't for how bloody loud it got. Kids tended to be loud to begin with — especially the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, shite... — but cramming so many in one place, in an enclosed room, the noise bouncing off the walls and the ceiling, filling the air until it was an almost physical presence pressing in on her...
No, she perfectly understood why Dorea couldn't tolerate being in here when she was having a migraine day. Liz didn't have that kind of excuse, and she sometimes had a headache by the end of meals anyway.
Being surrounded by so many people was also just kind of...emotionally exhausting? As Severus had pointed out several times now, she was astounding shitty at closing herself off from the outside world, because she was maybe the most volatile and incompetent mind mage in the history of ever. (Her words, Severus was nicer than that about it.) People just feeling and thinking things made little waves in the magical environment around them — like boats out on a smooth lake, some larger or smaller or faster or slower, creating more or less noticeable wakes, but they all had an effect of some kind — and Liz could push them off if she thought about it, but the more people there were the harder it was. Even if she was minding her own business, not reaching out to any of them, she was still constantly pelted with people's shite anyway — and if she did reach out (which she seemed to do instinctively when paying attention to someone, if only a little) it just made everyone else even louder, the second-hand feelings more intense and thoughts more distracting.
She didn't think she felt what people were feeling when she picked stuff up, not exactly, but she did feel something. Sometimes, the almost-but-not-quite physical sensations were similar enough to having feelings of her own that she could even get momentarily confused, wondering if there was something going on in her own head she wasn't consciously aware of before realising oh, obviously, someone else was just being emotionally noisy nearby (the inconsiderate pricks). She didn't think these feelings mapped one-to-one with whatever feeling the person giving it off was feeling, since most of them tended to just make Liz vaguely anxious or uncomfortable, which was something she also didn't have an explanation for, but she guessed it didn't really matter. Whatever was going on, that could be incredibly confusing, and distracting, requiring some attention to keep track of what was going on in her own head.
Which was what it came down to, really — whenever there were other people around, Liz was constantly buffeted with whatever they were thinking or feeling, requiring her to expend constant effort to keep all that shite away from her (which she wasn't even great at in the first place). It wasn't really a problem if it was just a few people, or the study group...though that could start pushing it too, depending on how many people had decided to show up that day. Classes weren't so bad for the most part, as most of the kids tended to be focused on whatever was going on. But whenever attention was drawn to her for whatever reason — if she was called on to answer a question, or if Flitwick was loudly praising something she'd just pulled off (which she honestly wished he would stop doing) — there would be surges of noise, crashing in on her too quickly to respond in time to stop herself from being battered, but thankfully their attention would be drawn away again quickly, giving her some time to catch her breath and pull herself back together. It could scratch away at her on the worse days, when she just didn't have the energy to deal with it all very well, but it wasn't so bad.
Larger groups, like when everyone in the entire bloody school was crammed into a single space, hundreds of people, was a whole hell of a lot worse. There was just too much, an overwhelming soup of feelings and thoughts, blended together so much it was impossible to separate one from the other — unless someone was being especially loud, feeling something very intensely, but even then she could normally only pick it out if she was close enough — a big confusing mess constantly pressing in on her from every direction. And Liz hated feeling trapped. She tried to keep herself pulled in as closely as possible, making herself denser so the smaller pulses from people's heads didn't push her too hard (not the best description, mind magic shite was hard to put into words), but that required constant attention — it wasn't difficult, didn't take too much effort to keep up, but if her attention wavered she would suddenly be smacked over the head with excitement and irritation and humour and anxiety, this person making a private comment about something their friend was saying and this person thinking about their homework and this person worrying about their family back home and this person imagining snogging or shagging someone and this person wondering whether anyone had noticed something embarrassing, and on and on and on, Liz had to quickly pull herself back in before she got completely lost.
In some of the Divination books she'd been looking at off and on, it was mentioned that the more sensitive Seers — especially people with psychometry, the ability to feel out the history of an object and often the feelings or intentions and rarely the futures of people associated with it — could sometimes have terrible difficulty just trying to function on a day-to-day basis. The human brain could only process so much information at once, and being constantly bombarded with far too much could result in the Seer being completely overwhelmed. In the worst cases, the Seer was reduced to catatonia, the visions they were having so powerful they couldn't spare the attention to focus on the physical world at all. Increasingly, Liz was coming to understand their predicament.
It was hard to tell, but she didn't think it used to be this bad? She knew being surrounded with so many people had always bothered her, but it seemed like... She didn't know, it just seemed worse somehow. People did grow more magically powerful with use, and her charmwork did seem to come easier than it had at first, so maybe it was just because she was more powerful now? She was always pushing magic into her mind, the thing that made her seem so terribly loud to other mind mages (or herself in the pensieve), and it stood to reason that if she was more powerful overall she must be pushing out more magic, making her even more vulnerable to things coming in from outside. Maybe? She wasn't an expert with this weird esoteric mind magic shite, but that seemed reasonable to her.
Or maybe practising divination was making it worse, but, while she'd decided to look into scrying on her own, there wasn't actually anything she could do about that — it turned out she was a Seer on top of the mind magic, because of course she was. Obviously, the thing that made Seers Seers was that they were more open to the magic around them than normal people — basically like being a mind mage, but the things they picked up were much more general than just people's feelings and shite, and not limited to the present moment (like the wakes things made rippling out into the past and future too) — which made Liz doubly vulnerable. Maybe she was shooting herself in the foot, learning how to actually listen to the stuff she was picking up, but the whole point of the Seer thing was that she would have been picking things up anyway, she just might not be consciously aware of it. Like how Severus had said Lily would know things without knowing how she knew them, just assuming she was especially intuitive or something, it would end up being something like that.
Personally, it sounded like being aware of what was happening was at least much less confusing, though the little nudges she got now and then could still be distracting sometimes...and it probably had something to do with why she was so completely shite at closing herself off.
Some days were better than others. On the good days, going to meals in the Great Hall could be a little bracing, Liz hyper-aware of the presence of other minds around her, but it wasn't that big of a deal, she could keep them away without too much trouble. And when she didn't, that was fine, just ride out whatever wave she was being hit with and move on. On the bad days, it was suffocating, the air so thick with alien thoughts and feelings she could hardly breathe, the waves crashing over her making it far more difficult to concentrate on anything, the intrusive feelings yanking her one way and then the other, over and over and over the entire dinner hour. By the time she left, she too often felt raw, like scraping a knee or accidentally catching her hand on a cheese grater, and also strained and thin, like an elastic stretched so many times it started to lose its springiness. Sometimes, the effort of keeping herself to herself left her so completely exhausted she just couldn't people anymore, had to lock herself up alone in her room (where at least the wards set into the walls kept her mostly isolated), sometimes just going to sleep in hope that her headache would be gone when she woke up. Bad days were much rarer than good days, but that didn't make them any less miserable — though they were more common lately, since things focused on her were more distracting and people were gossipping about her and Severus all the bloody time...
Today was a bad day.
It'd seemed a normal day when she woke up — maybe a little slower getting going than usual, but that could sometimes happen. (The constant weight of the dementors around the school, she assumed.) She'd made it through breakfast just fine, Double Potions hadn't been a problem. For the most part, at least, she could do without some people focusing in like a laser whenever she and Severus had the smallest interaction, curious or suspicious thoughts twittering in her ears, but today hadn't been too bad. Lunch had been mostly fine, but worse than breakfast, her attention wavering too much — not so much she was completely overwhelmed, just dragging at her a bit. Defence had been fine, if boring — they were mostly dealing with dangerous magical creatures this year, which was as uninteresting as it was useless, since she wasn't likely to run into most of them anyway — but passing her free periods in the library was when her exhaustion started to become obvious to herself, increasingly distractible and irritable as the hours went by. Cambrian had been...mostly okay — the intrusive feelings had made it more difficult to put her sentences together, she'd slipped more often than usual, but she'd made it just fine.
Coming down the stairs to dinner, Liz had felt the mass of concentrated thought and feeling approach before they got there. The meal had already been going for some time — it was nearly seven, so it was late enough most everyone had gotten here but early enough few had left yet. It was intense enough just in the Entrance Hall, the magic so thick on the air she could almost taste it, stinging electric prickles crawling over her skin, somehow feeling flushed and chilled at the same time, thoughts already pushing their way in, like memories playing dimly behind her eyes. Her pace hitched halfway to the door, falling a few steps behind Dorea.
She didn't want to go in there. But she had to eat — or more to the point, her friends would worry about her if she didn't show up, and feelings focused on her were far more difficult to ignore — so she grit her teeth and continued on, her steps feeling stiff and numb. Once they were inside, Liz ducking her head under the weight of the lake pouring over her, it was obvious Dorea meant to sit at Hufflepuff, but nope, Liz couldn't tolerate that today, she made straight for the Slytherin table instead.
Dorea turned to follow her after a second, her confusion prickling along Liz's arms and concern warm and clinging and nauseating — she realised this was an unreasonable thing to ask, but she really wished Dorea wouldn't do that.
Dinner passed in a confusing, miserable blur. Liz put herself as far to the outside of the room as possible, which made her less physically surrounded, yes, but it wasn't as though she couldn't feel everyone anyway — she wasn't sure exactly how far her range went, but it was wide enough to pick up too much of the Great Hall to keep straight, so it hardly mattered. (Or possibly even the whole thing, it was prohibitively difficult to distinguish a specific person if there were too many people between her and them so it was impossible to tell.) She hunkered in, kind of like how she had against the dementors at the quidditch match (though thankfully not while flying this time), but she couldn't pull in all the way, that turned her focus so far inward she wouldn't even be able to eat. She had to open up at least enough to know what was going on around her, which was honestly more than she was comfortable with just now, vicarious sensations setting her skin to crawling, alternating between feeling flushed and chilled as the tide shifted, the hundreds of voices roaring in her ears joined by thoughts not her own, a big confused mess she couldn't hope to interpret.
She knew people were talking around her, a few even talking to her, but she could hardly pick the words out of the cacophony, losing track of sentences halfway through. She could tell, by the nearby feelings clawing away at her, that her inattention was obvious, apparently not acting like people expected her to. Thankfully, Dorea at least realised what was going on — Liz had told her about the bad days before, mostly just to get her to stop asking if something was wrong when they happened. Less thankfully, the curiosity and concern from the people around her started washing out whatever else was going on, all mixed up enough she couldn't even tell who it was coming from. (Dorea, certainly, and Tracey and maybe Daphne, and was that Draco? Liz was probably imagining it, because that was weird...) As thick as the feelings filling the room were, they weren't really focused on her, having a bunch of feelings coming from so nearby for her had them clinging at her, thick and intrusive and completely impossible to ignore — and people worrying about her was nauseating, which made trying to get something down even more difficult.
This bad day must be worse than most, because she was, like, eighty per cent sure that Tracey had leaned in at one point and whispered if Liz wanted her to go find Severus. Liz had been temporarily confused by the use of go find, but of course Severus wasn't here, because he was a weird and awkward person who didn't like eating where people could see him. Luckily she was distracted by that, because if she hadn't been she probably would have been terribly embarrassed — she couldn't put words to why exactly, but yeah, that was the feeling she had in retrospect.
Liz hadn't realised the conversation going on around her was wrapping up until people started getting to her feet. She glanced down at her plate, noting that she had at least eaten something — she'd only nibbled away maybe half of the things she'd put on her plate, but as completely gross as she was feeling just now that would have to do. Before getting up herself, she took a last swig of her drink, and—
—immediately gagged, setting down the goblet hard enough the contents sloshed onto the table, one hand clamped over her mouth as she struggled to control her roiling stomach, hold down the bile crawling up her throat. Was that pumpkin juice? Ugh, that was just disgustingly sweet, she had no idea how everyone else could tolerate it.
...Had she been so out of it that she'd poured herself pumpkin juice and completely forgotten about it? It sure looked like it, the goblet had been mostly full before she'd spilled it everywhere. Huh.
Ignoring the concern and confusion and disgust and derisive mockery coursing over her, eyes on her skin like wasps, Liz poured some water into a fresh goblet, took a couple quick gulps before following her friends out of the Hall. One of them — Daphne, she was pretty sure — asked if she was okay, but she was too busy trying to push everything away, and didn't answer.
The weight of the minds around her gradually eased as they stepped out of the Entrance Hall, the further they got the clearer Liz's thoughts came. It was still noisy in here, yes, but it was better — enough that Liz shivered, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. That had been terrible...
"Are you okay, Liz?"
She blinked, glanced around. She was standing in a clump of people, Dorea and Tracey and Daphne, yes, but also Susan and Hannah, Sophie and Sally-Anne, Michael and Terry, there were Hermione and Neville and Lily coming through the door now. It was Hannah who'd asked, but she wasn't the only person wondering, stomach-churning concern clinging at her from multiple directions — it was easier to push away without the weight of everything else behind it, but it still left Liz feeling faintly sick, flushed and nauseous. "I'm fine, just tired."
"Yeah, you did look completely out of it," Tracey said, with a little flare of reluctance, eyes flicking to the others — probably didn't like saying that in front of other people, Liz guessed, which was a little silly, but Tracey was very careful about what she said to who about...things. "If you need to go to bed early that's fine, we can get on without you one night."
Wait, get on with wha— "Oh! Right, the study group, sorry. Um, maybe. What are we working on tonight?"
"I still haven't finished the Transfiguration essay due tomorrow, so that would be good..."
"We might as well start on the one for Snape too, that's going to take awhile."
"Yeah, Potions is hard this year, who would have figured brewing was so complicated?"
"Our Cambrian assignment isn't easy either. Smethwyck has us writing essays completely in Cambrian now — short essays, sure, but it still isn't easy."
"Well, we're all fluent—" Hannah, Terry, and herself, Susan meant. "—so we could help with that, but you shouldn't rely on us too much. If we help you write above the level of the class, Smethwyck might realise you're cheating, and you probably won't remember much of it anyway."
"Maybe you could proofread our essays," Hermione jumped in just as she arrived, "to make sure we haven't made any big mistakes the rest of us haven't noticed, but no, I wouldn't think you three should help with that one. Or Neville, he was raised on it too. Anyway, what are we doing?"
Before the rest could start going on again, Liz said, "Transfiguration, I haven't finished that essay either." She hated Transfiguration, it wasn't any easier this year than it had been the last two. "I'll need to go down to my room first, I don't have my... Shite, I left my bag in the Great Hall." She looked at the door back in, shoulders sagging at the thought of going back in there.
"Here," Tracey said, hefting up...Liz's bag.
"Oh, um, thanks." She took it back, trying not to look sheepish — the sudden resurgence of feelings unpleasantly clinging at her helped, but she honestly would have preferred the awkwardness. "Right, I'll go, um, do that. Meet you in the usual spot."
She turned and started off before anyone could respond to that. Partially because there was really no need for them to — and she had the feeling Daphne had been about to offer to walk with her, which was unnecessary and kind of embarrassing — but also because she'd noticed a group of Gryffindor...sixth-years? Not the third-years, anyway (no Ronald), and definitely older, but she didn't know the upper-years in other houses very well. Whatever, they'd just been coming out the door and had already noticed her, eyes on her skin like ants, and the Gryffindors had been completely stupid about her ever since the stuff with Severus had come out. She already felt their suspicion clinging at her like fingers of ice slipping against her neck, hot tingles of dislike flickering in her chest, she didn't need to stick around long enough to start picking up their thoughts too.
The walk down to Slytherin was mostly quiet, thankfully. The door into the dorm was closed, and she didn't remember the password — she honesty wasn't sure she'd ever known it, since she could just hiss for the way to open and it would. It was kind of annoying to do that if there was anyone around, since people were silly about her entirely useless ability to speak to snakes, but thankfully she was alone this time. There were a few people kicking around the common room, but they mostly ignored her as she passed, before long she was slipping into her room.
The faint presence of distant minds vanished as soon as she crossed under the wards, the magic inside her room cool and still and quiet. A shiver of pleasure running down her spine, Liz took a few slow, deep breaths, tension she hadn't even quite noticed dribbling away. She stood just a couple steps inside the door for a moment, her eyes closed, luxuriating in the blessed silence.
She was definitely glad she was a mind mage — she would never have been able to stop Vernon if she wasn't, she didn't want to think about how things might have been different — but sometimes it was inconvenient, and just exhausting, she was so damn tired...
Brushing that off as well as she could, Liz went to her desk, swapped out her Potions things for Transfiguration — they had Defence tomorrow, so there was no point in getting rid of that, and she might poke at their Cambrian assignment if she finished the essay for McGonagall quickly enough. She checked to make sure she still had some calming potion left (because it was annoyingly likely she was going to end up needing it), then slung her bag back over her shoulder and started for the door.
She was halfway across the room when she hitched to a stop, exhaustion hitting her like a physical thing. No, not exhaustion, exactly — though that was part of it — but aversion, sheer not wanting to so powerful she could hardly breathe for a second, frustration clawing hot and thick at her throat.
She didn't want to leave her room. More to the point, she didn't want to leave the wards — it was so beautifully quiet, her head just herself and no one else. The library wasn't so bad, usually, certainly not as suffocating as the Great Hall at meal times, but she would still need to fight off the shite from everyone else. She could breathe in here, she didn't want to leave.
The tight heat in her chest growing stronger by the second, Liz let her bag slump to the floor, sank down to sit on the corner of her bed. There were those little tingling twitches in her legs, and she felt weirdly light-headed, dizzy, like expecting a staircase to have one more stair than it did, unbalanced.
She was so damn tired, mentally more than physically, and she didn't want to leave.
There was homework she'd meant to do, but there was no reason she couldn't do that in here, alone. She was shite at Transfiguration, yes, but her problem was more practical than theoretical — she understood what they were being taught well enough, it was just the casting of it she had trouble with. Of course, how hard transfiguration was for her made her frustrated, which then made her not like doing the written work, but there was no reason she couldn't do it. As her marks this year so far proved — she'd surprised herself by actually managing Os on a couple essays...though overall she probably wasn't doing great, since her practical work hadn't stopped being bad, but still. The point was, she could finish that essay on her own, she didn't need to leave her room for that.
In fact, she'd probably get it done faster — the study group was helpful sometimes, with things she didn't know as well, but they were a distraction too. Especially on a topic she wasn't great at, like Transfiguration, her work might not be quite as good, but it would be adequate and finished in less time, meaning she could get on to other things she hated less.
Though, honestly, she was sceptical how much she'd get done at all. Her head still felt kind of scattered from weathering the Great Hall, she didn't imagine she'd have much luck focusing on essay-writing. Still.
Her friends were expecting her to show up, but that was fine, they'd be fine without her. They might be a little annoying the next time they ran into each other...and someone might knock on her door asking if she was all right which, yes, would be tedious, but it wasn't that big of a deal. She didn't want to have to deal with that, but she didn't want to leave more, so that's just the way things had to be, she guessed.
Liz flopped over onto her back, limp, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
Of course, she couldn't stay in here forever. It was irrational, even as it happened she knew it was irrational, and she didn't even really wish she could, but the fact that she would have to leave eventually had frustration crawling up her throat. Most of the time, she could get through the daily routine of classes and dealing with people and whatever else, but some days were much harder than others. Today had been half fine but half miserable, and the thought of needing to get up tomorrow and do it all over again was, just, unbearable, she hated it.
Sometimes she wished she could just...take a break. Disappear off somewhere for a few days or a couple weeks or however long she felt she needed to, come back to her life the way she'd left it and pick it up again. Not that she really wanted to pick it up again, but what else was she supposed to do? She couldn't leave school — Dumbledore definitely wouldn't allow that, and she hadn't asked but she felt it safe to assume Severus wouldn't either. Not that she really wanted to, she did want to learn magic, but still.
Maybe it would be easier somewhere...not here. She knew there were other magic schools out there. British mages being fucking ridiculous about the Girl Who Lived was a big part of what made it so hard — since she was famous for stupid reasons, people paid her far more attention than they should, especially when things like living with Severus came out, and things focused on her were more intrusive, so — it seemed a reasonable thought that she'd have an easier time of it at some other magic school. She knew there was one in Ireland, but that probably wasn't far enough away, since Ireland and Britain were the same country on the magical side. She didn't know much about other magic schools, though. There were Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, Hogwarts had a relationship with those two going back centuries, but she basically just knew the names. There were a lot of others though, maybe she should look into it...
But even if she did, she'd at least have to get through the rest of this year...or maybe even all the way through OWLs. And at the moment, that just sounded...bad. She thought maybe the mind magic stuff was just getting worse in general, but the dementors also definitely didn't help, and everyone losing their shite over the stuff with Severus... Liz was not looking forward to the hearing in the spring. She didn't want to be stuck with Dumbledore indefinitely, obviously, but that was going to be a pain. People were already annoying enough just with the tiny tidbit that'd shown up in the paper, what little she'd admitted when asked...and also the shite floating around people just made up, gossip was stupid like that. She didn't know how the hearing itself would go, what people might dig up, but she just knew it was going to be a big scandal, and people were going to bother her pointlessly over it, and it sounded just miserable.
Liz almost wished that she wasn't doing it at all, but no, much like just not going to magic school, she didn't really want that. As annoying and exhausting as doing it was, not doing it would be worse. There simply were no good choices here.
And she wished she didn't have to leave. She knew it wasn't possible, but she couldn't help the feeling. Her life was just...a pain, sometimes, especially lately.
(Liz hated feeling trapped.)
She was pretty sure she could brew a poison without too much difficulty. That wasn't something they'd done in Potions yet — Severus preferred to delay teaching children anything too dangerous for as long as possible — but they were talking about antidotes this year, and it wasn't really hard to reverse-engineer a poison from its antidote. At least, it wasn't for Liz, it was just doing it inside-out, but she didn't know how much sense that made to other people.
Of course, she didn't have to reverse-engineer one at all, she could just make one up. All kinds of common potions ingredients had properties that could be deadly if focused correctly, in the proper environment. Amplify something with a sedative effect, maybe — the effects of some poisons could be kind of...gruesome, but just slipping into unconsciousness and never waking up didn't sound so bad. She'd have to look up a couple things to make sure she didn't make a mistake in exactly how she went about it, but that should be easy...
Or, hell, she shouldn't even have to bother. She'd specifically taught herself a spell to kill the rabbits for her blood subsumption thing instantly, so they didn't struggle. It would take more power to pull that off on a person — people had a higher magical resistance than rabbits, and also their heads were just bigger — but she didn't think it was more power than she had, especially if she forced it harder than she normally bothered. She would want to be careful with her aim, just in case, but she didn't see any reason why she couldn't blow her own brains out in an instant. It would make an awful mess, true, but it wouldn't be her problem any—
Her breath freezing in her throat, stomach swooping as tingles swept over her skin in an unpleasant thrill, Liz shot upright. She sat perched on the edge of her bed, feeling strangely stiff, rigid, but unsteady at the same time, her fingers seeming to shiver. Air dragged through her throat thick and strained, almost painful, she felt like she was falling, the walls tilting around her, despite that she knew she was sitting perfectly still.
What the fuck was she thinking? She didn't— Where had that come from?! That wasn't what...
Her right arm, her holster felt unusually heavy, the presence of her wand seeming to burn — almost like a nearby mind, bright with some kind of intense emotion, but not quite. (The feeling was hers, not the wand's, it was all in her head.) The image floated behind her eyes, it would take a second, a flick of her wrist to bring her wand to her hand, turn it around, mutila, and—
Liz squeezed her eyes shut, one hand coming up to her forehead, pushing so hard it almost hurt, a pressure in her neck starting to build from pushing back against it. She drew her wand — a tingling shiver raced up her arm as she— Gritting her teeth, Liz cast her mind magic shield...but it didn't do shite, the unsettling...something still setting her head to spinning and her stomach to sinking and her fingers to shaking. But she hadn't honestly expected it to do anything — she would feel magic working on her, she was all but certain, and there hadn't— This was her, it was all in her head.
She'd just thought about killing herself. She'd almost wanted to, for a second.
She still kind of did.
No! That was ridiculous, of course she didn't— She forced a breath out in a shivering sigh, rubbing at her face, trying to ignore the scratchy clawing heat crawling through her chest. (Uncle Vernon hated it when she cried.) But as much as she tried to ignore it, to think it wasn't real, it was, and it was still there, lingering in the air like a bad smell, still niggling away at the edge of her thoughts.
Her potions supplies were sitting right over there, and her wand was in her hand. Both had a weight they hadn't a moment ago, drawing her eyes to them, inexorably, she couldn't not—
Liz pitched her wand away, falling to tumble against the carpet — she didn't know where, she wasn't watching — both hands coming up to her face, fingers digging into her hair, pulling just a little, enough to hurt — not a lot, but it was a distraction, one she could really use right about now. Her breath was thick enough in her throat she could barely get it through, half-strangled by...things.
What the fuck was wrong with her?!
She didn't really make the decision, at least not consciously. Liz swept her fingers over her cheeks, checking for wetness — she wasn't actually crying, which, good — before stepping out into the hall. As the door clicked closed behind her, she realised she'd left her wand in her room, hesitated for a moment before moving on. She was still better at defending herself with mind magic than her wand, so it wasn't like she was more vulnerable without it, especially since she could manage a (weak) dispel wandlessly now — besides, with the odd, burning weight the thing had gained ever since she'd considered the possibility of killing herself with it, she kind of didn't want to touch it right now.
(Because, she knew, she was scared she would do it — which was ridiculous, what was happening...)
There were more people in the common room than when she'd passed through a few minutes ago, but still not so many. She did draw a little attention as she approached the door to Severus's office — hanging open a crack, she noticed, meaning he was in and available — eyes on her skin like ants, but they mostly went back to their own things after a few seconds. The Slytherins were less ridiculous about her and Severus, but that didn't mean they weren't ridiculous at all.
Liz didn't bother announcing herself and asking permission to come in, she slipped inside and pulled the door closed behind herself, the wards snapping into place. And then she just stood there, her hand still on the handle, unsure what to do now.
Severus was sitting at his desk — marking essays, by the look of it. Sometimes, Liz wondered why the professors assigned so many of the damn things. The students all had several classes, yes, but professors actually had more classes than they did — some of the core subjects had two sessions for each year, which was a lot, not sure how they fit them all in a week — and having to read and score all the essays for the whole class, every class, seemed like a lot of work. She didn't know how they found the time, especially Severus, who was so busy with other shite. She'd think they'd assign fewer essays, since they were just making work for themselves too...
"Elizabeth?" She blinked, glanced away from the papers strewn across his desk to find his face. There was some kind of expression there, brow furrowed a little into an almost-frown, something dark and cool simmering away in his head, though she couldn't tell what — Severus was often hard to read, even compared to normal people, who Liz often had trouble with anyway. "Is...something the matter?" His voice sounded somewhat off, though she couldn't say how. He was definitely picking up something from her, but she was guessing he wasn't having any better luck reading her than the other way around.
Liz took a breath, shaking a little as her stupid lungs protested, scrambling for what to... She hadn't really decided to come here, she didn't know what she was doing, she just... "Back in first-year, when... My first meeting here, you remember?"
There was a tinge of something in Severus's head, like a shadow flickering across a room — suspicion, maybe, but darker than that, hard to tell. "Yes, of course I do."
"At that meeting, I..." Well, she hadn't promised she would come to him, actually — she'd said what she thought he wanted to hear (without technically lying, because he was also a cheating mind mage) so she could get out of the meeting, she'd had no intention of following through. But she hadn't thought... She didn't know what was happening to her, and she didn't know what to do. She kind of– She didn't want to admit it, which was weird, she didn't know why, exactly, but she guessed it wasn't like she particularly ever wanted to talk to Severus about feelings stuff anyway, or anyone else for that matter, she was pretty sure this was the first time ever she'd volunteered herself for this, and maybe she should, just, it wasn't too late to back out, she hadn't actually said anything yet, but the thought of going back to her room right now was—
"Elizabeth."
"You asked me to— I don't know what's happening to me. I was thinking about killing myself, just now, and I'm— I don't know."
Severus abruptly went still, unnaturally still, as though frozen with some kind of hex, expressionlessly staring back at her. Something surged through his mind, louder than usual but no more clear, cold and sparkling and shifting. After a second he twitched into motion again, taking a short breath, eyes flicking away from hers for an instant — thinking, maybe. "I see. Have you done anything yet?"
Taken a potion or something, he meant. "No. I didn't know— I couldn't make it go away, and I don't know what to do, so I came here straight away."
"Good. Thank you for coming to me right away, Elizabeth, I'm glad you did." He was kind of lying about that — he didn't seem pleased, at least (and it would be kind of weird if he did) — but she was pretty sure he didn't mean literally. He paused another brief moment, and then shuffled some of the papers on his desk around before standing up. "Come, through here." Severus turned away and started walking off, crossing the office toward...the door on the opposite side.
Liz knew his private apartments, where he lived while at Hogwarts (so, most of the year), were through that door — most of the professors' offices had doors leading to their rooms somewhere, despite them often being on different floors clear across the castle. (Hogwarts was weird like that sometimes.) The professors' apartments were concentrated just off the Grand Staircase on the fourth and fifth floors, not far from the staff room Lupin had found that boggart in, though students only ever went there to find someone in emergencies. For the most part, nobody knew exactly where any of the professors lived, just the general area of the castle, since they didn't really need to.
The exceptions were all the heads of house, since the students might need to find them if something was going on in the dorms in the middle of the night. So, Liz knew Severus and Sprout were also an exception in the location of their rooms, since they needed to be closer to the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs — both lived somewhere in the below-ground levels, though Liz didn't actually know where the main entrance to Severus's place was. She'd hardly ever heard of anyone going in there. Apparently, there'd been a couple incidents since Liz had started when a prefect had gone to get him for something (most of which Liz hadn't noticed at the time, either asleep or just not present), and she'd picked up a couple thoughts — not from the person herself, actually, but from her girlfriend — that Emily Scrimgeour, the Head Girl in Liz's first year ( the only Slytherin Head Boy or Girl they'd had so far), had sometimes had meetings with Severus at his place, where they'd...just talked, apparently? about random life things? Liz didn't know, and she'd gotten the feeling Deirdre hadn't for sure either.
Severus opened the door and stood back, turned to watch her, waiting.
...Okay, then.
It wasn't until she was walking through the door, coming much closer to him, that she identified that cold, unpleasant feeling in his head: fear. Huh.
She hadn't considered what Severus's apartments might look like — she hadn't given much thought at all to Severus's private life before he'd whisked her away to his house — though if she had, she probably would have assumed they'd seem perfectly ordinary, like his house. That guess would have been correct. Liz stepped into a parlour or sitting room of some kind, cast in dark colours, blacks and deep reds, rosey wood polished to a faintly reddish shine, a little bit of silver here and there. There was a fireplace, a low-burning fire moodily crackling, set nearby a couple armchairs and a sofa arranged around a low table, a few more bookshelves dotted here and there along the walls, a writing desk there. Toward one corner was a counter and a couple cabinets — for drinks and snacks, she would guess. There were a few doors leading out, some closed and some open, the rooms beyond hidden in shadows. There were a couple lamps high up on the walls, but they were turned down low, between them and the fireplace giving just barely enough light to comfortably illuminate the place, deep and easy on the eyes.
"Go ahead and sit down." Liz startled a little at Severus's voice, coming from so close behind her — apparently while she'd been distracted looking around the room he'd fetched something from the liquor cabinet, he hadn't been holding that bottle a moment ago. The door closed behind him (with a sizzle of wards snapping into effect), he set off toward the counter space, presumably to fix himself up something. It was kind of funny that he apparently thought he needed alcohol for this conversation, but Liz did have a—
Wait, no, she didn't have a calming potion on her, it would be in her bookbag back in her room. Oops?
Liz drifted toward the table, after a brief hesitation making for one of the armchairs. She had absolutely no idea what was about to happen in this conversation — which was slightly intimidating, but honestly she was still far too unnerved by her own thoughts to worry about that (especially since she'd just wondered what the lethal dose of her calming potions was, so whatever this was was clearly still going on) — but she thought maybe if she sat on the sofa Severus would sit next to her. She didn't know why she assumed that, Severus was about as standoffish, physically, as she was, but just in case. The chair was comfortably padded, shrouded in dark leather, the material cool to the touch — Liz idly prodded at it, watching how the faint reflection from the fire bent around the divot made by her fingers, while she waited for Severus to finish whatever he was doing.
After probably only a minute or two, he came up out of her peripheral vision, carrying a glass in one hand and a tall ceramic mug in the other. Looming over her chair, he held the mug out toward her — apparently that one was for her. Once she took it, the surface warm against her fingers, he stepped toward the adjacent armchair, sinking down with a rustling of his robes and a clinking of the ice in his glass. He didn't speak right away, watching her, taking a sip from his glass, slow enough the brownish-goldish liquid inside hardly even seemed to wiggle.
His attention making her uncomfortable — not for the normal reasons, like eyes on her skin like ants or feelings clinging at her, instead just shifting and awkward — Liz looked away, gazing sightlessly into the fire. She wasn't sure she'd be able to get a sip of whatever this was down, her chest still tight and her stomach still doing its weird swoopy thing, so she just hugged it closer with both hands. It was pleasantly warm, and the steam lifting from it smelled spicey, though faint enough she couldn't guess what was in it.
"I understand this is the first time this has happened." Severus paused, as though waiting for an answer, so Liz just nodded. "Do you know if... Sometimes there is no obvious precipitating factor — the human brain is an unimaginably complex system, and neither muggle nor magical experts can claim to understand these processes fully. It is all right if you can't identify what might have brought you to this point. All the same, has anything in particular been especially troubling you of late?"
She swallowed, trying to clear up her throat, but her voice was still too quiet, sounding thin and strained. "Besides the dementors, you mean." After all, those were supposedly troubling everyone in the castle, whether they were consciously aware of it or not.
"Yes, besides the dementors." There was a little flash of anger — not directed at her, but at whatever idiots thought keeping soul-sucking monsters right outside of a school was a good idea — though it hadn't affected his voice at all, still low and cool and smooth.
"Not really. I don't know wh– why this is happening. It just kind of...came out of nowhere, and I couldn't make it stop."
"That's simply the way it goes sometimes, unfortunately."
Well, that was dumb. "I was just tired. I didn't..." Liz sighed — she didn't want to talk about this, she shouldn't have come here.
...No, she didn't mean that, not really. If she hadn't come here, she would have been worried she would do something stupid...and then probably leave to go to the study group to make sure she didn't, and that would have been miserable. And obviously miserable, so people would have asked what was bothering her, and... That wouldn't have gone well, no, she didn't know what else she could have done. This was just uncomfortable.
She sighed again, set her mug aside — the arm rests were wide and flat enough she could balance it on one just fine — and reached down to loosen her boots. She pulled her stockinged feet up onto the chair, folding her legs, picked up her mug again — though she still didn't drink any, wasn't sure her stomach would cooperate. "Some days are worse than others. It was always like that, I didn't... Back in Little Whinging, I didn't really deal with people much? I mean, I just mind-magicked everyone to leave me alone, I didn't talk to other kids much at all, I didn't have any friends or anything, and the teachers ignored me most of the time. And I can't do that here, but I never really knew how to...people." It could be her imagination, but she thought she caught a flicker of amusement from Severus — which was fair, she was aware using people as a verb was a silly thing to do. "I don't know what I'm doing, most of the time. It was worse back in first year, I think, but people know I'm...the way I am, now, so... It's just tedious, and exhausting, more or less day to day."
"That is perfectly understandable, Elizabeth. Interacting with other people socially requires a degree of emotional effort, which comes more easily to some people than others. I'm not surprised that your relative isolation before Hogwarts left you...unpractised." For some reason, she felt a smile twitching at her face — it sounded like Severus had been careful to not say it in an insulting away, which she found weirdly funny. He needn't bother, it wasn't like she didn't know she was a freak already... "I imagine it won't surprise you to hear that there are limits to how much I can tolerate as well."
"...No, not really." Severus was an awkward nerd, after all. "But anyway, it... I mean. I got better at it, or maybe people just got less...demanding, I don't know. The good days were a lot better than they used to be, and the bad days not as bad. But it's been getting harder lately, and I don't know why. And the mind magic doesn't help. I think playing with divination might be making me...more sensitive, or something? It's a lot harder to keep people out on the bad days, it's hard to focus on anything."
"That is also not a surprise," Severus grumbled, faintly irritated. She glanced up at him quick, finding him turned away, the cold anger in his head actually showing on his face — though barely, the frown was visible only as a slight dip to his eyebrows, but it was there. More dementor-related irritation, nothing to do with her, good then. "The influence of the dementors, even so diminished as it is at this distance, will make summoning that necessary emotional effort ever the more difficult. Even for those not so gifted — you might have noticed additional emotional and interpersonal difficulties among your classmates this term, and this is most likely why.
"I can't say whether refining your divinatory talents might leave you more mentally vulnerable — this is not a subject I have much knowledge in. But it is quite likely that the dementors are at fault here as well. As we have discussed before, it appears you are constantly performing mind magic; while this requires no conscious effort from you, processing and filtering what you perceive from the minds around you does. This is not the same sort of emotional effort, but it is still emotional effort, of which you had a limited supply even before the arrival of the dementors. Given all of that, I'm not surprised your bad days are worsening."
...Oh. That made a lot of sense, she guessed. "Yeah. That's all that happened, really. Today was just a bad day, and... I was supposed to do things with the study group — they're probably wondering where I am right now — and I went in my room to get my things and— The wards in there are great. I don't know if you designed them to block mind magic on purpose or if it's just a side-effect, a lot of wards and enchantments and things get in the way, but it was, just, an instant relief as soon as I walked in the door, it was amazing."
"It is intentional," Severus said. "For the safety of the other students, but for the well-being of mind mages as well — are you familiar with the concept of dream-walking?"
"Oh, yeah, okay." A mind mage was still a mind mage while they were asleep, and it wasn't unheard of (quite common, supposedly) for them to instinctively bumble into other people's heads while they slept. When a mind mage basically shared a dream with someone else, intentionally or not, that was dream-walking. Liz assumed she must have done it before — since she was basically always casting mind magic, she was probably even more susceptible to it than normal mind mages — but she'd never noticed it happening before. She never remembered her dreams, that was probably why.
Except for when she had nightmares, but she wasn't counting that.
"Right. Um. I just...didn't want to leave. My room. I was so tired, and the wards blocking off everything else was nice, and I just didn't... I didn't want to leave, not ever, and the fact that I would have to was, just, terrible. I think... I didn't consciously think it, like on purpose, it kind of snuck up on me. But, I think the reasoning was, the only way I wouldn't have to go back out there, to deal with people and classes and everything, was to just...not exist anymore. And then I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I...
"Scared," she said even as the realisation came to her, what that weird stomach-swoopy tingly feeling was, blinking to herself in...something, she didn't know. "I was scared." Still kind of was, honestly. "And I didn't know what to do, so I came straight here."
Severus was quiet a moment, just watching her, thoughts ticking along in his head, trying to figure out what to say. And the longer the silence went on, the more Liz just felt uncomfortable, shifting and awkward and... Not, embarrassed, exactly, that wasn't the right word, she didn't think, but... Well, she didn't know what it was — given how long it'd taken for her to figure out that her own intrusive suicidal thoughts were frightening her, it should be bloody obvious that she was terrible at feelings.
Or maybe that was actually normal? Liz generally assumed that her experience of things wasn't normal, being a freakish creepy devil child and all, but maybe it was? How did people tell what feeling something was anyway? She'd never asked, and it wasn't like people explicitly thought about it...
But anyway, the silence was going on too long, Liz feeling increasingly uncomfortable, so she blurted out, "Can I just... I mean, would it be possible for me to...not be here? Until the dementors are gone, at least."
An odd warm lurch going through Severus's head, he let out a short sigh, one hand coming up to rub at his forehead for a moment. He didn't stop before answering, half of his face still hidden, not looking at her — which she honestly preferred, it was easier to talk about shite if he wasn't watching her the whole time. "While I understand why you might... Unfortunately, in the present moment, removing yourself from school would...present difficulties. The most pressing of which concerns your trusteeship — should you drop out of school, the Wizengamot would likely consider that evidence of my insufficiency as a guarantor. I'm not certain whether they would chose their own replacement for Dumbledore or simply leave the arrangements made for you as they are, but in either case you would almost certainly be forced to return to Hogwarts anyway, likely with additional constraints imposed by a new, potentially unsympathetic guarantor. Perhaps after the hearing is over with, it would be possible to take such measures, but as things stand now I would not recommend it."
...She hadn't even thought of that. Obviously any...bad, un-normal-child-like things she did would reflect badly on Severus's ability to look after her, which might screw up her attempt to get out from under Dumbledore. The thought had another flash of burning, itching frustration crawling through her chest, quickly tightening her throat, bad enough she doubted it'd be possible to get anything out at all. (She hated feeling trapped.) Since Severus would obviously expect her to talk, and if this kept going she wouldn't be able to, she risked a sip of her drink — it was warm, maybe it would help to—
Oh, she remembered this! It was the same drink Severus had made for her twice before now, at Hogwarts's Christmas dinner last year and the year before. It was good, all creamy and spiced — there were a couple different ones, she thought, but cinnamon was the most noticeable — a faint sour tang of what she knew now was some kind of liquor made from apples. And the hot bite of the alcohol itself, of course, though mild enough the cream mostly covered it. Liz had learned last year that there was supposed to be syrup added to it too (someone at the table had 'reminded' Severus he hadn't put it in), but Liz thought it was great the way it was, honestly one of her favourite things ever — didn't top her ice cream, quite, but it was better than bacon-and-cheese sandwiches.
It did help open her throat a bit, so, good. Weirdly, there was a tingle of...something on it that she didn't remember — it was a magic feeling, smooth (though Liz couldn't say how something tingly could be smooth, exactly) and giving the stuff a cool aftertaste (though it wasn't a taste), kind of like breathing out after eating something with mint in it, though not quite as strong. "Is there a potion in this?" It wasn't her calming potion, but...
Severus shook his head. "I wasn't certain how long it would need to last, so I suspended a warming charm in it." An advanced warming charm, he meant, instead of warming all at once something that would be anchored to a thing and constantly keep it warm — which was much more difficult to do, on the curriculum for this year, though Liz had taught it to herself out of a book early in second year.
"Oh. Thanks." Considering how long it'd taken her to get even the first sip, it probably would have been cold long before she could finish it. She took another sip, cleared her throat a little. "Um. About the thing, I was thinking, before the...thing happened, could I switch schools? I know there are other magic schools out there, but..."
"Is it possible to attend a different school, in general? Yes. However, the transfer process will require some effort, more or less depending on which school you choose. Britain is one of the few countries in Europe that doesn't teach to I.C.W. educational standards, so a transfer out of the country would likely require placement testing and self-study. It is certainly too late to arrange such a thing in time for the winter term. At the earliest, you could theoretically transfer to another school starting next autumn, but I wouldn't recommend it — the I.C.W. exams equivalent to our OWL-level are administered at the end of fourth year, so you would be required to catch up on everything in the programme you'd missed while also keeping up with classes. As you wouldn't be able to do this until next year, it would not solve the problem that brought you here."
"Could we maybe do it anyway?" Severus ticked up an eyebrow, Liz glanced away, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "I dunno. I kind of...hate it here? It's not so bad most of the time, or at least it isn't anymore — I remember I didn't realise how miserable I was getting that first term until winter break came along, and I didn't have to deal with people and classes and all. But people are stupid about Girl Who Lived shite, and they're always going to be stupid about it, and... I thought— The idea of going somewhere else, that wasn't just about the dementors. They're bad, yeah, obviously, but I also think school might be easier to get through if all the other kids weren't bothering me because I'm famous for stupid reasons. So..." It kind of felt like there should be something else to say, but she couldn't think of anything, so she lamely trailed off with a sip of her drink.
Severus was quiet a moment, still and cool, hardly even seeming to breathe. There'd been some kind of thing going on in his head at the bit where she'd admitted she hated it here, but it was quiet enough, Liz too focused on trying to explain things, that she hadn't gotten a good look at it. And whatever he was thinking now wasn't obvious either — there was definitely something going on in his head, something warm and sharp and vibrating, but fuck knows what that was. Finally, after a noticeable hesitation, Severus said, "You are aware that, should you transfer to another school, your friends will not come with you."
She shrugged. "That's fine. We can write letters and meet over holidays, that's enough for me." Though, they might not be happy about it, but... This was maybe kind of a bad thing to say, but she didn't really care? Hogwarts was neat, all the magic everywhere and everything, but it just wasn't worth having to deal with everyone else, it was exhausting. She would be...well, not happier, she still didn't know what happiness was supposed to be like, but at least far less miserable somewhere else. At least, she hoped she would be...
Severus hesitated a moment again, but not nearly as long this time. "While your name may be vaguely familiar to children your age in other magical nations, no, your cultural importance is solely a British phenomenon, and would not be reflected in attitudes overseas. Though, you may be more well-known internationally in the near future. While yours is not a household name, Dumbledore's is, due to his defeat of Grindelwald and past and present role in international diplomacy — I imagine the upcoming hearing will be news throughout the I.C.W., if not so...intrusively scandalous as it will be here. While it would be considered rude to ask you questions of such things, children are often rude, so it may still happen. Regardless, your classmates certainly would be less demanding of your attention, on the whole."
Well, that was a mix of good news and just stupid. She really didn't see how her shite with Dumbledore was anyone else's business, but she was aware people were nosey bastards — Petunia had served as an excellent demonstrative example there — so it wasn't really a surprise, just annoying.
"While it would be more convenient for you to remain at Hogwarts, should you truly wish to continue your education elsewhere I will not try to stop you. There are a number of concerns you would have to address. For one, English is a rare language among mages internationally — to attend nearly any other educational institution in Europe, you would be required to learn another language. I suppose there is the Salem Institute, as well as Miskatonic University, both of which offer classes in English, but I cannot think of any others off-hand. And both of those are in America, which would be quite some distance to travel."
"I was already looking into instantly learning French with mind magic," she reminded him. She was even doing exercises he'd given her to practise for it and everything...though maybe not as often as she should...
He grimaced a little — Liz was aware that he didn't like her trying things so big and potentially dangerous, and was only helping to lessen the chances of her seriously hurting herself — but nodded anyway. "The ability to speak French would broaden your options considerably. Particularly, Beauxbatons in Aquitania and the International Institute in Helvetica—" That was the magic name for Switzerland. "—both teach almost solely in French. However, those are both large educational institutions, much larger than Hogwarts — I imagine you would prefer a smaller, quieter school."
"Oh. Um. Yes, if possible that would be good."
"There are a number of smaller academies dotted across the Continent — the College in Paris might be suitable, for example — but it might be..." Severus let out a sigh, paused for a moment, taking a sip of his drink. "You would like Durmstrang, I suspect. Perhaps the Academy in Athens, or the University of Syracuse — though both have larger student populations, if not so large as Beauxbatons or the International Institute. While the University of Krakow is mostly known for their Mastery and research programmes, they also have Competency and Proficiency programmes of modest size but high standards. It is possible you could get by at Krakow on French, with some limitations, but all of the others would require an additional language.
"If you truly wish to consider continuing your education elsewhere, you should begin to weight potential options immediately, these among others. I would recommend you acquire study materials for the Competency exams in the subjects you wish to qualify in — that is not difficult to do, you would simply fill out a form and send it to the nearest I.C.W. office — and plan to take the exams in the summer after your fifth year. Or perhaps the winter during would be ideal, if you can manage it. You could then proceed into a Proficiency programme at the institution of your choice instead of continuing through NEWTs at Hogwarts. In fact, if you are certain of your intentions and do well on the Competencies in the winter, you needn't bother taking the OWLs at all."
That kind of sounded like a lot of work, but maybe wouldn't be so bad — she wouldn't have to attend classes for the Competency stuff, which was the most annoying part anyway, Liz mostly did fine learning from books. Having to go all the way through fifth year, though, that was a long time to wait. She'd have to deal with two and a half whole years of this, still. (Which meant she was halfway through already, it didn't sound so bad when she put it like that.) Except, she just noticed, "Didn't you say other schools do their OWLs in fourth year? If I waited until fifth year to do them, wouldn't I be a year behind?"
"Yes," Severus admitted, "in a manner of speaking, though I wouldn't worry about it. The dominant educational programme on the Continent is different from Britain's in a number of important ways. Academy — that is, institutions like Hogwarts — begin at a similar age, but are often preceded by an elementary education. While there are primary schools in Britain, many are instead homeschooled, which results in an inconsistent level of proficiency among incoming academy students — often, they are behind their Continental peers, though not always. The Competency programme usually concludes after four years. Unlike Britain, where further education is often limited to those seeking professional careers, almost every student will continue into a Proficiency programme; while Hogwarts's NEWT programme takes two years, Proficiency programmes are expected to last three years, but will often stretch to four or five, depending upon the subject and the needs of individual students.
"Should you enter a Proficiency programme in the autumn of Ninety-Six, would you find yourself to be a year older than most of your classmates? Yes, perhaps. However, students at most Proficiency programmes are expected to get through the material at different rates than others — with an extra year of study behind you, you may well graduate more quickly than most of your peers. It also isn't unusual for students to start academy late or early, or to take a year off after their Competencies, some non-human magical beings start formal education at different ages... You will find more variety in the ages of your classmates than you see here at Hogwarts. You may be a little older than most of your human classmates, yes, but that is not so unusual that anyone will consider it worthy of note. And that is if they even notice — they aren't likely to know your precise age unless you tell them."
Well, okay then. The educational system on the Continent sounded way more complicated than it was in Britain...but then, maybe it wasn't actually, and Liz was just terribly under-informed — she hadn't even known there were magic primary schools until just now, so. Given that there were, that they didn't tell muggleborns about magic until they were eleven was kind of shitty, but by this point she didn't expect mages to not be shitty to muggleborns. "Okay. I'm not happy about having to go all the way through OWLs, but... How would I find out things about magic schools? I haven't even heard of most of those before."
"The I.C.W. publishes an encyclopaedia every year, which contains a list of every licensed educational institution within the member nations. The information provided there is very basic, a superficial overview and nothing more, but you can pick several from the list and send a letter to each requesting more information. The library here will have an up-to-date copy — while the Board doesn't require that she do so, Pince procures the new edition every spring.
"However, this is a long-term solution, which won't necessarily address the issues that brought you here today. You needn't force yourself to go to class when you are having an especially bad day. If you feel you must do so for your mental health, please, Elizabeth, do skip class. Leave any displeasure my colleagues may have over it to me."
...Liz was pretty sure adults weren't supposed to tell kids to just skip class. In fact, Severus himself had made a whole thing about trying to do better and everything, it was really weird to hear him say, hey, if you're not feeling it, no problem, just don't go! It took Liz a moment to figure out what the hell to say to that. "Um. There is our deal, you know, from last year."
"The intent of that arrangement was to give you incentive to cease performing badly by design. While you do still have weak subjects, your marks have improved dramatically — I expect that goal has already been achieved. In ordinary circumstances, we might have to re-examine your efforts if your marks began to noticeably slip, but for this year I am willing to blame minor regressions on the dementors.
"But even in other circumstances, it..." Severus glanced away for a second, one finger idly tapping at the side of his glass. "Sometimes accommodations must be made for one's health. If you are having difficulty with something that is being demanded of you, you are allowed to ask for leniency. If another professor refuses a reasonable request — or perhaps Mister Flint, if it's related to quidditch — tell me about it, and I will either negotiate a compromise or demand they do as you ask.
"If you need help, or if something is too much for you at the moment, that's okay. It's more than okay, you have the right to ask for accommodations to be made. Your health is far more important than meeting whatever petty expectations may be imposed upon you — if you feel it's too much, I want you to say something, Elizabeth, and something will be done about it. Okay?"
Liz didn't answer right away, staring down at the mug in her hands, the whitish-brownish liquid inside wavering back and forth just a little as she breathed. Maybe pushed along by the fact that she was kind of having trouble at the moment, hot tension in her chest squeezing at her throat, she took in and pushed out each breath thick and slow and very, very consciously. She kind of had to, at the moment, to try to keep her throat open, stop herself from...she didn't know. She didn't know what she was feeling, exactly, just that it was hot, and constricting, and a lot, and it was annoyingly difficult just to breathe, she needed a moment to control herself.
(Uncle Vernon hated it when she cried.)
She forced a dry swallow down, working the muscles of her throat, trying to loosen herself up. Once she thought she could manage it, another sip of her drink helped — it hadn't gone away entirely, but she thought her throat was maybe cooperating enough now she should be able to speak. "Okay," she managed to croak out, thin and strained, quiet, barely more than a whisper. She cleared her throat, tried to force her voice louder. "I think... I think if I just...don't go to class on the bad days, that might help. I'll try. Um." She cleared her throat again. "Um. Also, the Great Hall is...bad. Worse than going to class, sometimes. Maybe I could ask Nilanse to bring me food instead? If I don't think I can manage it. So. I'll do that too."
"Good," Severus said, with a single nod. Liz was a little worried he would comment on the difficulty she was having trying to talk just now — not that she could guess what he might say about it, exactly, all she knew was she didn't want him to — but thankfully he moved on. "Avoiding negative experiences as much as is feasible may help, but... I'm sorry to say the field on our side of the divide is much less developed — research conducted by muggle psychologists suggests positive attachments are a...more successful preventative measure. Small, petty obligations can often make the difference — literature I've seen references cases where a patient backed out when they remembered they'd borrowed a book from a friend they hadn't returned yet, or had promised to visit over the weekend, that sort of thing — but burdening you too much with such things may act as an additional stressor, indirectly make your daily life even more difficult.
"It is also useful to set long-term goals, or to find some meaningful purpose to dedicate yourself to, especially any where you can see minor progress on a regular basis. This is what worked for me." Wait a second, worked for him? Did he mean... "Unfortunately, such motivations can be much harder to cultivate for people around your age. In the lack of something more profound, it can be useful to—"
"Hold on a second." Liz hadn't decided to interrupt — she was curious, but it kind of didn't seem like her business. But she already had, Severus waiting with one eyebrow ticked up a little, so she might as well ask. "What do you mean, worked for you?"
He hesitated for a second, staring at her — which was a little uncomfortable, she wished he would stop doing that, she took a sip of her drink mostly for an excuse to break eye contact — before letting out a short sigh, something warm and shifting she couldn't quite read in his head. "I seriously contemplated suicide on two separate occasions. By seriously contemplated, I mean I fully intended to take my own life, and came quite close to doing so."
...Oh. She'd kind of expected that was what he'd meant but... Well, Liz didn't know how she felt about that.
"Don't worry, Elizabeth, this was some time ago. I have no plans to go anywhere anytime soon." Did she look like she was worrying? She didn't think she was worrying... "The first time I was only a few years older than you are now, reaching a climax of sorts in the August of Seventy-Six. I doubt that story would do you any good — you can hardly reproduce the circumstances that caused me to...snap out of it, I suppose."
"What happened?"
Severus shot her a flat look — uncomfortable? annoyed? "I killed my father."
She blinked. Yeah, she was fresh out of those.
"It wasn't something I chose to do, an uncontrolled outburst of magic triggered during one of his rages." Shite, whatever his father had doing must have been bad — Severus would have been, what, sixteen? Accidental magic almost never happened that old. "There was a brief investigation by the D.L.E. before it was ruled an accident. Though I don't imagine they would have done anything even had they believed I had truly murdered him — the Ministry is unlikely to prosecute a mage for killing his abusive muggle father — but they must go through the motions regardless. The issues that had been troubling me hadn't truly been resolved, but the events of that August were enough to wrench me out of a downward spiral, and I was soon later distracted by...other matters."
Getting involved with the Death Eaters, he meant. In September of '76, Severus would have been starting in on his sixth year, if she had the timeline right — she'd already heard from other people that the Death Eaters had done a lot of recruiting of NEWT students right under Dumbledore's nose, especially in Slytherin. Given Severus had just killed his abusive muggle father (and the Death Eaters had had spies in the Ministry, so they likely knew about that), had probably been desperate for a distraction (some meaningful purpose to dedicate yourself to, as he'd said a minute ago), and was a big Dark Arts nerd, he'd probably seemed like an excellent prospect to the recruiters. Liz had wondered before how Severus had ever ended up with Death Eaters in the first place, since he was a halfblood and everything, but it was really no surprise they'd gotten to him with that context, just good timing.
"The second was in the spring of Eighty-Three." Severus didn't continue immediately, blankly staring off to Liz's left. His head was noisy, thoughts fluttering back and forth in a chaotic mess that was honestly making her a little dizzy from all the way over here, probably considering what exactly he wanted to say.
Liz considered telling him he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to, but, well, she was curious...
After what felt like maybe half a minute, Severus took a quick sip from his drink, eyes flicking back to Liz. "In the aftermath of the war, I was not in what one might call a mentally stable state. War is traumatic for all involved with it, in way or another, and I had lost virtually everyone I had ever cared about, either to death or estrangement. My brief stay in Azkaban during November of Eighty-One did not help to set me out on the right foot. I was teaching here already then, for a couple years, but I considered this more a punishment than a desirable use of my time. The tedium of teaching introductory material to inane children with little appreciation for the craft, only to see them replaced with a new equally exhausting batch the next year, is a cruel sort of existential torture. Rather like Sisyphus, when you think about it, save for loud, aggravating, idiotic children in place of the boulder — and how I envy him the calm."
She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling — it probably didn't reflect well on her, but she always found Severus complaining about his job weirdly funny.
"You are allowed to laugh, Elizabeth. That was a joke."
"Oh. So you didn't mean..."
"No, I meant it, but I could have chosen to phrase it in a less amusing way."
"Right. I wasn't sure, you just talk like that, I can never tell."
"I'm aware — people expect for you to somehow signal that you're joking, by smiling or some other means." Severus took a slow, casual sip of his drink. Then he said, completely straight-faced, "I don't smile. When I attempt to, I frighten away animals and cause small children to cry."
"...Was that a joke?" Because she could see it, she bet half of her classmates would find Severus smiling scary — mostly out of the thought he must be scheming something, but...
"Yes, Elizabeth, that was a joke." He sounded slightly exasperated, so apparently it was supposed to have been obvious that time.
"Right, just checking."
He shook his head just a little, then went on. "As I was saying. In that time I was isolated to a degree that was terribly unhealthy, though I don't know what could have been done about that. Most of my friends were dead, or had fled the country. The only people I had anything approaching social interaction with — not counting the Slytherin students, who I mostly considered to be an unwelcome imposition at the time — were the Malfoys, Albus, and Minerva."
"Minerva's Professor McGonagall, right?" She knew Albus was Dumbledore, but she wasn't one hundred per cent on Minerva — he didn't talk about her much, Liz hadn't realised they were friends.
"Yes. Most of the time, I rather wished Minerva would leave me alone — she was also my Transfiguration Professor, and often seemed to think of me as a naughty child who needed to be brow-beaten back onto the straight and narrow. Those first couple years after the war, I honestly think I received more condescending lectures from Minerva than Albus, as difficult as that might be to believe. She stopped in time, perhaps as she finally realised how badly I resented her treatment of me, and we then settled into what I would describe as a companionable rivalry. More often than not, we only speak to tease the other over a Slytherin somehow getting one up on a Gryffindor, or vice versa. While I personally don't care for quidditch, Minerva takes it far too seriously, and grows hilariously infuriated with me whenever the Slytherins come out ahead — so I must thank you for your efforts there, it is most entertaining."
...Right, so they weren't friends, then. Got it. "You're welcome, I guess?"
Severus nodded, with a little twittering in his head she recognised as amusement. "Albus was mostly concerned with...my moral development, I suppose. He was pleased that I had chosen to turn to the Light, but the road to redemption is long, and I needed constant encouragement to ensure I not stray. Of course, I'd done no such thing, and the Dark is not nearly so depraved as Albus believes, but his misunderstandings of my character and motivations dictated our relationship for those first years. And still do today, I would argue.
"Not to mention, Albus and I are among the few who are aware the war isn't truly over — Lily may have destroyed the Dark Lord's body, but his soul is still out there, a fact that was immediately evident to those who know what to look for. My work as Albus's spy among the Death Eaters continues in the Dark Lord's absence, if in a far less dangerous capacity. We were ever-watchful for signs of his return, even that early, and I knew without a doubt that, in time, I must take up the same role in the second war I had in the first."
Severus hesitated for just a second, his head tilted slightly, before saying, "Though recent events have forced us to alter our plans. Should I return to my position from the last war, the Dark Lord would certainly ask me to bring you to him, and would then kill me when I refuse. Instead, Albus and I have decided I am to assist the Order primarily as a healer, and to ensure your safety by any reasonable means I feel necessary. So thank you for that as well."
...Right, she vaguely remembered Severus had said something about that over the summer. She hadn't really paid it that much mind at the time — the Dark Lord coming back felt so far away, like most things in the future did, it was hard to concern herself over it — but it kind of sounded like he'd hated it, so she guessed that was a good thing? And besides, it was good that Severus got something out of all this mess too. It was kind of a relief, though she couldn't really say why. "You're welcome for that too, then."
(She was just going to pass over the part where Severus said when he refused, not if — speaking of dying for her like it were a given, something he would do without hesitation if he had to. She didn't know what to do with that idea, it was better to just not think about it.)
His lips twitched, another amused wiggle in his head. "And then there were the Malfoys, Narcissa more than Lucius, though I had known Lucius longer — he was a prefect during my early years at Hogwarts, and helped to manage Mastery education and apprenticeships for the younger Death Eaters. Narcissa was only a distant acquaintance before—" He glanced away for a second with a sort of fluttering uncertainty, before dismissing whatever thought that was with a tiny shrug. "You might be aware some purebloods often have terrible difficulty with pregnancy and childbirth. Children are important to many among the Death Eaters, for reasons both cultural and ideological, so trainee healers were sometimes tasked with assisting others in the process.
"I was considered the most promising healing candidate, due in part to my expertise with potions; Lucius leveraged his influence in the organisation to secure me as Narcissa's personal healer for the duration. I didn't mind so much, honestly — I'd been in enough battles by that point to grasp any chance to avoid future ones with both hands, and it allowed me more time to focus on my studies. For some unfathomable reason, Narcissa decided she enjoyed my company—" Liz didn't think that was unfathomable, but okay. "—to the degree that she asked me to be Draco's godfather shortly before the birth."
Liz twitched with surprise, bad enough she might have spilled her drink if she hadn't already halfway emptied it. "Wait, you're Draco's godfather? I'd never heard that before..." Though it did kind of explain why Draco was so weird about her and Severus, he'd seemed almost offended when he first found out — because Severus hadn't told him, maybe?
"Yes, he burst into my office that evening to complain at me about it — I suspect that was the core of his displeasure with me. Though honestly, I don't know why he would have expected me to, I didn't tell Narcissa either."
She knew that, actually, when she'd written Draco's mother she didn't know anything about it. "Are you in my mind right now?"
He gave her one of those very Snape-ish, exasperated, how can you possibly be so foolish looks. "No. You truly are very loud sometimes."
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's all right." It wasn't in words, his mind instead opening up a little bit — like there had been a door between her and a television, thin and muffled, becoming much louder and clearer once she opened it. The explanation was more an impression than anything coherent, a bundle of feelings and information, whipping by too quickly for her to parse it all, but she thought...
While constantly flinging her feelings and thoughts at him was kind of unpleasant (like sitting in a room with a television turned up far too loud), he was less bothered by it than he was concerned that someone would take advantage of that vulnerability one day. Though, since she was a mind mage she'd be able to resist mental assaults better than normal people, but something that had a constant influence — like enchantments, demons, potions — most mind mages had enough control of their own minds to isolate themselves from that kind of thing, but Liz would be more like a normal person in that way. (More vulnerable than a normal person in some cases, actually, if she understood correctly.) She didn't pick up most of the things flashing by, but she caught a reference to love potions specifically — if Severus were dosed, even if it were Amortentia, he could handle it perfectly fine, but Liz was so defenceless and terribly un-self-ware she might not even notice it happening, which was a vaguely concerning thought, now that it'd been pointed out to her.
But, the point was, he wasn't annoyed about her mentally shouting at him all the time, just worried. Which was weird, she still didn't understand why he gave a damn...
Severus's mind went silent again — probably only after a couple seconds, though it'd felt much longer than that — and went right back to what he'd been talking about as though the diversion had never happened. "In that time, I mostly found Narcissa's insistent demands for my company tedious and confusing. Though I only have myself to blame for that, I suppose. I'm uncertain how familiar you are with certain aspects of pureblood culture, but they take godparenthood very, very seriously — I was so blindsided by the offer that I didn't pause to consider what I was agreeing to. I was expected to have some degree of engagement in Draco's life, which was equally tedious and confusing. You might have noticed I'm not particularly comfortable with children, and it isn't any easier when they're that young."
Yeah, she had noticed that — she didn't think there was anybody in the whole bloody school who hadn't. It was probably a good thing they were getting people whose entire job was to look after the dorms next year, Severus could just pass off children being squishy and annoying to whoever that ended up being instead. "Why the hell are you teaching here, anyway? I always did wonder about that."
He scowled. "When the Dark Lord learned that Albus had begun interviewing candidates to succeed Slughorn, who was soon to retire, he ordered me to submit myself. I wasn't hired immediately, of course — while it wasn't public knowledge, so I could move about freely, Albus was aware of my involvement by then — but the position was still open when I defected not long later, and so the Dark Lord had gotten his agent inside Albus's circle. He was actually quite impressed with me for successfully deceiving my way into the Order so quickly — he didn't know how I'd managed that, of course. Now that the Dark Lord is temporarily defeated, I no longer must report back to him on Albus and the Order's activities, but I was never given orders to leave my post, so in keeping with our plans for his return I was to remain.
"But that isn't what I wished to discuss," he said. He shifted in his seat a little, which, Severus wasn't the type to fidget much, but maybe he'd just had the thought Liz had — now that he couldn't pick up his old job as a spy anymore anyway, he could quit. Or maybe he was just getting uncomfortable sitting in one position so long, they must have been here for a while now... "As I was saying, I was terribly isolated, considered what little social interaction I had had to be unwelcome and baffling, and hated my job. And there is the trauma that comes of so recently having fought in a war to consider as well, of course. I knew the Dark Lord would inevitably return, but that was no enticement to continue living. In fact, the certainty of that fate, and Albus was very certain, only made it worse — the thought of having to go through the horrors I'd experienced over the last years, all over again, touched every day with a surreal, creeping dead, contributing to my sense that I was living through some kind of deep, unending nightmare."
Liz felt herself grimacing, but it didn't take much thought to figure out why this part of the story was affecting her — she hated feeling trapped.
There was an odd shifting shiver in Severus's head, like maybe he'd picked up that thought, but he didn't respond to it, whatever reaction that was not even showing on his face. "I'm certain that, were I not drawn out of it, I would have inevitably taken my own life that year, perhaps even as early as that month. And it happened by complete chance. I tended to drink rather more than was wise, then — I was having difficulty sleeping, and was convinced the alcohol helped — and one day I was tired and mildly hungover, less able to control the impulse to glance into the minds of those around me, on the same day one of the Slytherins happened to be having a particularly bad day.
"I won't tell you her name, for the obvious reasons. She was in second year at the time, a perfectly average student, neither lagging behind her peers nor especially talented, and also quiet and unobtrusive. I'd hardly paid her much mind before. And perhaps I never would have, if we hadn't coincidentally had a lapse of control at the same time, in the same place. I caught a memory, just a flash, and before I could stop myself had chased it back to the source. And so I discovered that this girl was being raped by her father on the regular, had been going back years."
...Oh, well, that was an obvious reason to not use her name, wasn't it — presumably this wasn't something whoever it was wanted random people to know about her. Of course, if she was in second year back in '83, Liz was hardly likely to know who it was anyway, but still.
How common was this kind of thing, anyway? She didn't know anyone who'd been sexually abused (as far as she knew), but even just among Slytherins in her year there was Tracey and Greg, and she was pretty sure there was something going on with Theo, and maybe Millie too? (And then Liz herself, obviously.) Liz was hardly an expert in anything that could be called normal, but that...kind of seemed like a lot? but maybe that was normal? She didn't know...
But anyway, Severus's story, yes. "What did you do?" Even as she asked the question, Liz was suddenly certain she knew the answer: Severus had killed him. Whether this was a Seer thing, or she was just assuming based on those rumours the Slytherins whispered around about him, whichever, she was pretty sure she was right. Not that she would be at all surprised — Severus could be pretty scary when he wanted to be.
"Nothing at all wise, I can assure you — I knew far less about psychology then than I do now. Later that evening, I called her into my office to confront her about it, which I in time realised was undoubtedly the wrong way to go about it. The idiot I was then, she quickly ended up in tears, begging me not to tell anyone, to allow her to back to her room. At a loss — and also feeling rather guilty — I handed her a calming potion and dismissed her.
"I hardly slept that night." Severus paused, staring off at the wall again, took a contemplative sip of his drink — almost empty at this point, more ice than whatever that was. (Those probably should have melted by now, there must be a cooling charm on them.) "I was rather...erratic over the following days, distracted and quick to anger. It took some time for me to realise what was causing it. My father was hardly subtle, and I did try to ask for help on a handful of occasions — people did know what was going on in our house, at least in the broad strokes. And nobody ever did anything about it, or at least nothing that made any meaningful difference. If anything, their attention on the matter only seemed to enrage my father further." Liz must have reacted somehow, because Severus's eyes flicked back to hers with a shiver of...something. "I suppose you had a similar experience."
The clenching heat threatening to crawl up her throat again, Liz took a sizeable gulp of her drink. It was mostly empty now, she noticed. She didn't know how strongly alcoholic this was, exactly, but she was starting to feel a little tingly, which might have something to do with why she actually answered. "Yeah. Um. One time, I was running away from Dudley and his gang, and I ended up on the school roof — maybe I apparated by accident? Is that a thing that can happen?"
"It is quite rare, but yes."
"Right. So. A teacher found me up there, saying I was in trouble, she was going to call my parents, and... I didn't really mean to tell her? It just kind of...came out. I wasn't supposed to tell people what happened at home, but I wasn't supposed to do anything freakish either—" There was a flash of anger from Severus, startling her for a second, but it wasn't pointed at her. "—so no matter what happened I was going to be in trouble. Um. I don't know what happened, but at some point after Vernon yelled at me about telling people, and..."
("No. Take it off." She pulled her dress over her head, let it fall to the—)
(—eyes crawling over her skin like wasps, something hot and tight and twitchy twisting her insides, Vernon hated it when she cried—)
(—cloth scratching against her chest, despite the sickening heat in her face and her stomach she felt cold, so cold she was shivering, as much on the inside as the out, weak and shaking and worthless, there was nothing she could do, just wait for it to be over, her breaths high and thin even though he hadn't done anything to her yet—)
(—there was a yank, her pants being pulled down, she tried to move but Vernon's hand shoved her down into the sofa—)
Liz took another gulp of her drink, nearly finishing it off, a little shakier this time. "That was a bad one." The first time without her pants, she thought, though it was hard to be sure, it all kind of ran togeth—
She'd shown Severus the memories.
She'd almost forgotten about that. She hadn't really been thinking straight at the time, but before the (extremely painful) ritual to heal her back, she— He hadn't understood, that she wanted him to do it no matter what, she hated feeling trapped (—Vernon's hand shoved her down—), and she'd thought, well, she just had to make him understand, and... Why the fuck had she done that?! That was—
The realisation had her feeling all too hot and squirming, like, like ants crawling on her skin but also like she might be sick, she didn't— Humiliation, that's what that was, she couldn't believe she'd shown him that. She hadn't wanted him to... She hadn't wanted anyone to...
(Liz didn't want Severus thinking about her like...like that. It was hard to explain even to herself why it bothered her so much, it just did.)
She stared down at the remains of her drink, half-visible at the bottom of the shadows in her mug, focused on trying to breathe normal. Not that it mattered, she was so bloody loud all the time, she was sure Severus knew everything going on in her head right now anyway.
There was a moment's hesitation, something cold and unpleasant in Severus's head shifting back and forth against something warmer and...something, she didn't know. Whatever he was thinking, he eventually decided to move on without talking about that — which was the right choice, Liz did not want to talk about it any more than she already had. "Such incidents are not uncommon, I'm afraid. When I was a student here, I knew a small handful of other students who were having trouble at home, some even worse than myself. A couple I knew, with the threat of returning home for the summer hanging over their heads, had even gone to Slughorn or another professor for help. Nothing ever happened.
"And I realised, in those volatile days after learning what was being done to this second-year, that I was doing the same thing. That I had, somehow, become one of those oh-so-useless authorities figures, yet another supposedly responsible adult who could help, but didn't. My erratic behaviour, that random, directionless anger, I knew where they came from then: I hated myself, so intensely I could hardly think straight. In that moment, I couldn't decide who I hated more — that girl's father for doing it, or myself for not stopping it.
"And so I had to do something, I couldn't tolerate not doing something. I couldn't go to the D.L.E. — I didn't trust them to take seriously any accusation of criminal behaviour made by a former Death Eater. Neither could I go to Child Welfare, as what they might do without the participation of the child in question is very limited, and the girl couldn't be convinced. My initial handling of her had likely done damage there," he muttered, the air twinging with self-recrimination, weak from age. "Her father happened to be the head of her family, so there was no higher authority there for me to appeal to. I knew what would happen if I brought it to Dumbledore. He would make sad, sympathetic noises — oh yes, poor girl, how terrible — tip off one of his people in the Ministry and congratulate himself for helping her in some small way...and nothing would come of it, nothing ever did.
"No, if I wanted something to be done, I had to do it myself. As the summer holiday approached..." Severus glanced away again, the nails of his pointer and middle finger tapping at his glass — tink-tink, tink-tink, tink-tink. "Time was running out, I needed to act. So I snuck into her room while she slept, took a sample of her blood and an impression of her magic, and from them created a talisman which would get me through her family's wards."
Like Liz had said earlier: Severus, Dark Arts, scary. She wasn't judging — she was a creepy devil child with an unhealthy interest in the Dark Arts herself — she was just saying.
"It was late, but her father was still awake when I found him. Searching through his mind, seeking to confirm what I already knew to be true, I found my student was not his only victim. She had an older sister, who I recognised as an upper-year Ravenclaw. And she hadn't been the first either. There were cousins, and perfect strangers — this man was not Marked, but he had been involved in the war, and had used the violence as an opportunity. I don't know how many girls, perhaps as many as a dozen over the course of his life. He would never stop, he couldn't be talked or threatened out of it, even a deep compulsion would fail in time.
"And so I murdered him, cleansed the scene of any trace of my presence, and then left."
Yep, called it.
"When I killed my father, I felt nothing — besides perhaps relief that it was over, once and for all — but this was different. I'd killed people, in the war, but this was different. This was something that I could do, that only I would do. I wouldn't be forced to resort to violence every time, no — there is a process, and it exists for a reason. But I'm in a position where I can act as a sympathetic figure to help guide children who need it into that process. And a man with the temperament and skills necessary to remove the problem...by more direct means, should that process fail. Not through death every time, no, sometimes threats or compulsions or the like are enough. But this is something I can do.
"I spent that summer buried in research. When the students returned the next September, I began to transform Slytherin into what you see now — the prefects, empowered to act via a process inspired by the early Wizengamot and the self-government of certain larger clans, are left to manage day-to-day conflicts and disciplinary affairs under only mild supervision, while I screen for signs of abuse or other personal issues, by more subtle means encouraging those I might have missed to come forward.
"The rumours you have heard, of my intervention on behalf of at-risk students? I started them. Of course, certain of my actions since have been public enough rumours would have cropped up on their own, but when they first appeared there had not yet been anything to inspire them. It required planting subtle compulsions in a handful of student's minds, which is unethical, but I'm glad I did it — there have been a few in other houses who, having heard the rumours, have come to me for help, students who I might not have identified as needing it on my own.
"This is what I meant before, when I said having some purpose to one's life can help. When next that suicidal despair came upon me, I knew that, were I gone, there would be no one at Hogwarts able and willing to do what I do. And that was enough."
And Severus fell silent then, which was slightly annoying, because Liz really had nothing to say. She didn't know how to respond to all of that. It wasn't a surprise, of course — there were rumours floating around about Severus dealing with bad parents, she'd already kind of assumed he must have killed one of them at some point — but that didn't mean she had anything to say about it. Except, "You know, that's kind of funny, both times instead of killing yourself you killed someone else."
He was trying to give her an exasperated look, but she caught just the slightest hint of a curl to his lips — also, the flash of humour sparking off into the air around him was just as clear as laughing out loud. "It's not a strategy I recommend to address your current difficulties. Besides," his voice cool and bland, "murder is a terrible habit to get into."
Liz didn't catch the laugh quickly enough, escaping through her nose in an odd, awkward snerk noise. "Um. Was that one supposed to be a joke?"
Instead of actually answering the question, Severus raised a single are you being serious right now? eyebrow, which was really just as good. "As useful as having a long-term goal or project can be, I understand it's far more difficult for a person your age to cultivate one in such a way that it will be stable enough to suit the purpose. You can certainly give some thought to the matter, but... What do you see yourself doing, twenty years from now?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. If I'm being honest, forget twenty years, I don't know what I'm going to do in five, after I graduate." Or maybe six, if she transferred somewhere else and it ended up taking a year longer, whatever. "Or even this summer, really — check out the townhouse, I guess... The future doesn't quite feel real, like it's just..." Liz trailed off, grasping for the word, but even after a couple seconds not coming up with the one she wanted.
"That's all right, I didn't expect otherwise. The point is that it can be difficult to anchor oneself with long-term plans when one has no imagination for the long-term."
"Yeah, I get it." Liz paused for a second, considering something Tamsyn had told her a while ago now. While Tamsyn did sound very reasonable much of the time (except for when she sounded just creepy, which Liz didn't get to judge her for), Liz couldn't immediately trust the shite she said — maybe a little irrational, but she couldn't help a little lingering suspicion. Probably because of that time Tamsyn had broken into her room while she slept, so. Severus was hardly a normal person either — like Tamsyn, he'd just admitted to her that he'd killed people, though he hadn't made nearly as much of a fuss about Liz not really caring — but he was a supposedly responsible adult, so... "It is okay if I...don't really figure it out, right away? I mean, I am filthy rich, so it's not like I need to work..."
"Yes, that's perfectly fine, and not unusual. You'll find that even people who believe they have their future planned out upon their graduation from secondary school often see their lives going in directions they hadn't anticipated. Mages live rather longer than muggles, so you'll have longer to decide what you wish to do with your life than you might realise. And even should it take a couple decades to sort out, you're not likely to lag behind your peers. It's typical — especially among the nobility, who represent the majority of the student population here at Hogwarts — to marry straight out of school, and to raise their family while pursuing Mastery study, or training in the arts or whatever else. Most of your peers are unlikely to begin focusing on a career, should they choose to bother with one, until after their youngest child has started at Hogwarts.
"The practice dates to a time when the world was a far more violent place, the future less certain — it was determined that birthing the next generation as soon as reasonably possible guaranteed the family the best odds of long-term success. Of course, the circumstances are different now, but the practice continues due to other concerns. A woman's ideal reproductive window is longer on the average among mages, but by a smaller margin than the lives of mages are extended overall; therefore a woman is fertile for a smaller fraction of her life, weighted toward early adulthood; mages tend to live in larger kinship groups, with multiple generations in a single household; therefore there is little incentive for mages to alter the expected pattern of life that they'd by then long settled into. Generally, you can expect mages to marry and start families young, and engage themselves in careers or politics or whatever else later — the exception are poor commoners whose families haven't the wealth to support them for that long without assistance, but even they tend to start families early, sharing child-rearing responsibilities among the adults in the extended household."
Okay, Severus, that tangent had been completely unnecessary. Well, she guessed maybe not, since Liz would need to learn all this shite about how the magical world was different from what she'd seen growing up eventually, but it wasn't really what she'd asked. Liz did have the wealth to support herself indefinitely, so she wasn't expected to work or anything, that was all she'd needed to know.
She knew what Vernon would say about that, but it wasn't like she gave a damn about his opinion.
Or, her initial feeling had been that the tangent about marriage and children and such — listening to Severus talk about fertility was weirdly embarrassing — was unnecessary, but the more she thought about it, the more she thought... Well, that might be a problem, was all. "I'm not doing that. Getting married and everything, I mean, that... Is that another thing people are going to be stupidly annoying about?" She'd gotten more than enough shite about the Girl Who Lived not doing or being like what people expected her to, okay...
Severus let out a little sigh, a cold shiver reverberating around her, which told her all she needed to know before he even got started — son of a bitch, why couldn't these people just leave her alone?! "I imagine it will be. While it is possible you may well change your mind given time—" Ha ha, no, that wasn't happening. She was pretty sure she was bent, but it wasn't even about that, she just...couldn't see herself doing it. Even just the thought of being a mum was so bloody weird, she couldn't picture it, it was completely unimaginable.
(Not to mention, she'd probably fuck up any kids stuck with her. Not as badly as she'd been fucked up, certainly, but it would be a disaster.)
Anyway, Severus was still talking. "—I doubt it will be soon enough to prevent... I'm uncertain whether anyone has spoken to you of this, but it's typical among the nobility to begin considering their future marriage starting around the age of fifteen. Generally speaking, mages still prefer arranged marriages — even among the commons, though the process is far more elaborate among the nobility — and the arrangement is almost always made years before the wedding itself. It's considered unseemly to approach the matter with anyone under the age of fifteen, but from the fifteenth birthday onward is prime courtship age. I have no doubt that you will begin being approached almost immediately."
Liz scowled — of course she would, she didn't expect British mages to ever not be a pain. "What, boys are just going to walk up to me like, hey, wanna get married?"
"Ideally, it should be a woman speaking of this with you, preferably one far more familiar with the process than I. I would ordinarily suggest Narcissa, but since you are friends with Miss Greengrass, perhaps her mother would be preferable."
"Also, we're spending Christmas at her house, and I've never met Narcissa." Liz had decided to accept Daphne's invitation to spend the winter holidays at the Greenwood, because why not. And "we" was the right word to use there. Last week, Severus had gotten a letter from Lady Greengrass apologising for not including him in the invitation — which was silly, it wasn't like she'd known she "should" have before the article in the Prophet — and of course he was welcome too. Severus had said it would be odd for a kid to be away from the adult supposedly responsible for them that long, especially over the holidays, but he could make his excuses if she really didn't want him there. It was kind of weird, but she didn't feel that strongly about it, so, she guessed that was a thing that was happening.
Severus nodded, acknowledging the point. "It would be terribly gauche for a boy to be quite so direct about it as that. It is more... Well, it's very similar to dating, I suppose, though rather more formal in the particulars than the muggle custom. It is not quite universal, but very common, for a person to be entertaining multiple suitors simultaneously, feeling out their compatibility while seeking out further concessions to secure the match. Exactly what this looks like varies quite a lot depending on cultural factors, but generally there would be outings very similar to what you might call a date, and often gifts. Explicitly speaking of marriage would be seen as very crass, but everyone knows what the intention is.
"It is the heads of their families who handle that. Typically, the head of the man's family will inform the head of the woman's of his intentions before he begins to woo her — or sometimes vice versa, again, depending on cultural factors. While the courtship proceeds, the heads of the families have their own negotiations, ironing out the particulars of the arrangement. In patrilineal marriages, which are the most common — especially so in the Allied Dark and the Light, and somewhat less in Common Fate and Ars Publica — it is expected that the woman's family will be compensated somehow for her hand. If she leaves the family, they will never see all the potential wealth and power having another mage and any potential children might have brought to them, so the goal of the arrangements is to counter the loss enough they are willing to let her go. Both parties, the man and the woman, will speak regularly with whoever is negotiating on their behalf, the betrothal only settled upon once all four agree — it is illegal for a marriage to proceed without the explicit consent of both the man and the woman, though I imagine the law doesn't entirely prevent such abuses."
Right. Liz would say all that was weird, but, if she was being honest, she hadn't entirely understood how people were supposed to go about getting married anyway. At least this was more straightforward than her previous understanding, which had basically been that it just kind of...happened. She meant, people went about screwing each other, as people did, and eventually one of them was like hey, let's do that getting married thing — for some reason, Liz didn't really get why anyone would want to, but she realised she was the weird one here. Or, she guessed, maybe the woman got knocked up, so then they kind of had to, like Dorea's parents.
...Though, she didn't really get that either — she knew people thought they were supposed to get married if they were going to have a kid, but it was one of those things people just took as a given so she didn't know why. Maybe it was a money thing? That would make sense, at least...
But anyway, that sounded tedious, Liz was not looking forward to that. Not that it should be hard to deal with, she could probably just scare off anyone who tried it pretty easy. There was the detail that, "I am the head of my family."
"Yes, and that complicates matters somewhat. I'm not entirely certain what would be done — obviously this is not an area of the culture I have much experience in — but I suspect you would be expected to perform both roles. Assuming that is how it would go, that does in fact make it easier: if a lord informs you a son of his house intends to approach you, you can simply write back to tell him to go to hell."
Despite herself — this topic was making her really uncomfortable, she was trying to ignore it — she felt a smile pull at her face. "I'm guessing I should say it nicer than that."
Severus shrugged. "If you wish, though the more rude you are the more effectively they'll be discouraged from trying again. Offending Lords of the Wizengamot may sabotage any effort to participate in their politics you may wish to make but, especially if you direct your bluntness toward those you have little intention of allying with anyway, you truly have very little to lose. It can do little to sully your reputation in any case, as these exchanges are meant to remain private."
"Not to mention my reputation is pretty much ruined by now anyway." Which was annoying when she thought about it, because she hadn't even done anything...
"Among the Light, perhaps." Well, Liz's understanding was that the Dark only pretended to like her so they could brag about stealing her from the Light, but she guessed there wasn't actually much difference there. "Should the years go on and you remain unmarried, however... The issue is less your personal fame, and more that you are the last remaining member of a Noble House. The nobility take the furtherance of the legacy of their ancestors very seriously — in their eyes, that you are seemingly unconcerned with fulfilling your duty to your family to continue it will not reflect well on you. To put it mildly, I'm afraid. Without going into too much depth, it would cast you as deeply immoral and inherently suspect. You will find many in the nobility will begin, gradually over the years, to want not to deal with you in any capacity whatsoever — which you may feel now is no great loss, but it will make your life more difficult down the road."
...That was extremely irritating. She didn't know how whether she decided to have kids or not was anybody else's damn business, but whatever, purebloods were fucking weird. "More deeply immoral and inherently suspect than the Dark Arts shite?"
"You forget that more than a third of the Wizengamot wishes to loosen the legal restrictions placed on the practise of witchcraft." Oh, right, she had forgotten about that. "Of course, there are methods by which you can prevent drawing the disfavour of your peers on this matter in particular. Should you choose to remain unmarried and childless, you could instead adopt people into your family — adults, even. They could then have children to secure the future of the family in your stead."
"Wait, that doesn't make any sense. How can adopting people in continue the family, they wouldn't even be related to me. I thought these people were all big on bloodlines and shite." Which was very stupid because, aside from a few heritable magical traits, as far as Liz could tell it didn't matter at all. And just because someone was muggleborn didn't mean they weren't going to end up with those traits anyway — Liz's mother had had the stupid snake-speak thing and had been a Seer, so, she was pretty sure the blood purity talk was shite.
"There are some who would consider it illegitimate, yes, but in other quarters there is long precedent of lords adopting a suitable heir. To many, it is the history, traditions, and accumulated knowledge of the family that are of primary importance, any shared blood they may or may not have a secondary concern, if even that. A noble house is an institution, and it is the continuation of the institution that matters, not necessary the bloodline itself. True, this perspective is most common among Common Fate, but it has appeared elsewhere.
"In fact, now that I'm thinking about it, you might consider adopting certain of your muggleborn friends — Miss Granger in particular. The legal and economic systems of this country are designed such that a mage unconnected to any house, noble or common, will find it far more difficult to get by. If she were a Potter, however, it would open many doors for her after graduation, and shield her against frivolous legal assault."
And she could just...do that? just adopt one of her friends, because the magical government was terrible and racist, and fuck it? That was a weird thought. Also because, "Hermione is older than me." Hermione was practically the oldest student in their year, actually, she'd already turned fourteen back in September, when Liz had been just barely thirteen.
"Mages don't necessarily use the term in the same sense. I'm uncertain whether it would even be necessary to specify — the process of adopting members is something that is determined by internal family law, and I know nothing of the Potters' — but after the adoption she'd be considered a sister or cousin, or something of that sort."
"...Oh." Well, that wasn't so bad then, she guessed — if it would make things so much easier for Hermione after school, and get some of the pressure to have kids and shite off of Liz, then that sounded like a great idea. Though, Liz kind of doubted Hermione intended to marry and have kids right away either, but at least doing it once should signal to nosey people that that was her plan to keep the family going. Or she guessed she could just adopt more muggleborns, there were a couple in their year she was...okay with, at least — not really friends the way Hermione was, but fine. And she owned like five houses so it wasn't like they'd necessary have to deal with each other anyway. "And adopting muggleborns wouldn't just make it worse."
"With some people, I suppose, but others will approve. In fact, it was once common to integrate muggleborns into our society through adoption — it will strike some as very old fashioned, but few will object." Severus paused for a moment, his head tilting just a little. "You might have heard of a famous ancestor of yours who was well-known for adopting commoners and muggleborns. It was controversial in his time, but that was less due to his willingness to adopt muggleborns at all, and more due to the fact that he'd adopted dozens, recruiting innocuous muggle spies from among their families. It was said that nothing was said between any two people of influence, muggle or magical, in all of western Europe without Henry Black in time hearing of it."
"You mean Henry Black like the Chief Warlock? the one who was killed by Cromwell?" Apparently, they'd had a big flashy duel on the Wizengamot floor, in the process halfway levelling the building. The damage was so bad the remains had had to be torn down and replaced — the current Wizengamot Hall was on the same site, even some of the family's seats were in the same exact places (Slytherin's in particular, supposedly it was cursed and couldn't be moved), but it had only been built in the early 18th Century.
"Yes, the same one. In the aftermath of the war, the title passed to his granddaughter Nymphadora — the same Nymphadora Black who killed Lady Cromwell, in the end — and was passed through her descendants all the way down to the Miss Black you know. But the adoptees had had full rights as members of the family, so if none of Henry's blood had survived one of them would have inherited instead. And that is hardly the only well-known example — off the top of my head, I know for a fact that the Houses of Ingham, Bones, Ollivander, and Glanwvyl have all passed through adoptees at one point or another. Some of the more irritating pureblood supremacists may kick up a fuss, but they have no power to interfere in your family's internal affairs, and much of the rest of the Wizengamot will acknowledge any adoptions as legitimate."
Right. She should definitely consider doing that then. Though, she'd probably wait a few years, look up whether Severus was right about how bad things could be for muggleborns (though she didn't really doubt him), before making a decision. Or even saying anything about it to Hermione — and that was going to be an awkward conversation...for several reasons, probably...
"Are you still thinking about it?"
Well of course, she'd just learned it was an option, and that it might actually be a good idea, she'd hardly had time to— Oh! Oh, thinking about killing herself, that's what he meant. The whole reason they were here, obviously, right. She considered for a second, but...she felt fine now, actually. A little tired — she couldn't see a clock from here, but they must have been going on for a while now — and also all tingly and warm from the alcohol, but that was it, really. "...No? I didn't even notice it go away."
Severus nodded, his head giving an odd little lurch — not a bad lurch, like some tension she hadn't even noticed loosening, his mind sinking back into a more comfortable pattern. "Good. I had hoped presenting a distraction would draw you out of it."
"Was that why you kept going on long unnecessary tangents about random shite?" She had noticed that, Severus wasn't normally so talkative, but she'd thought maybe he was just tired. One of the few others times he'd gone babbling off about things for no other reason, he'd been visibly exhausted, so...
"Come now, Elizabeth," he drawled, a curl to his voice she didn't know how to interpret, "I know you listened to every word. You do like to know things."
Liz shrugged. Fair point. "Just saying, you're not normally so chatty, and I'm pretty sure that," nodding at his empty glass, "shouldn't have been enough to do much." Hers was maybe doing a little, but Severus was bigger than her, so.
He shrugged right back. "When you're having a moment, sometimes it may be possible to distract yourself, but it's generally better to have something outside yourself to focus on. Say, an involved conversation on complex topics with another person." Yes, yes, you're very clever, everybody knows that already. "Should this happen again, you should go to someone you're comfortable with. You needn't tell them why you're seeking them out — in fact, it may be better to avoid it, as your friends are unlikely to be equipped to respond well to that information. If none of your friends are available, or you're not comfortable going to them for whatever reason, you can always come to me. If I'm unavailable, or you don't know where I am, call Nilanse to find me, and I'll come to you as soon as possible."
That was... She maybe shouldn't do that. She meant, she knew Severus was terribly busy all the time — with all the teaching and the essays and the potion-brewing and whatever else she didn't even know about, this bloke definitely didn't sleep enough. In fact, he'd been marking essays when she came here, and since he wasn't able to do that now he'd be behind, which meant he was probably going to get even less sleep as he caught up on things. She probably shouldn't have come here tonight, if she'd paused long enough to think it through she wouldn't have, she'd just...been scared, and not thinking straight, and she hadn't known what to do, and...she guessed fixing things was just Severus's job now? She meant, she had brought Tracey to him, when she hadn't known what to do about that, and there was the trusteeship and everything...
In fact, she kind of thought she was maybe feeling a little guilty about it. The essays weren't so important, but there were a lot of potions Severus had to keep brewing, people getting ill from the dementors. Liz didn't care about that so much, honestly — except for Dorea's problems, which made her extremely uncomfortable to think about, she tried not to — but she knew Severus did. And cutting into his time to do things that he thought were important meant, yes, he'd probably end up skipping sleep, which could not be good for him...
(One of the things she'd learned since starting to actually give a damn about certain people was that it could suck sometimes.)
Liz didn't say anything, but Severus must have picked up some of it anyway — damn stupid loud brain — there was an odd shiver in his head, a serious sort of not-quite-frown on his face. "Don't concern yourself with whatever business of mine you might be interrupting. I assure you, Elizabeth, your health is more important to me than marking essays, or teaching class, or whatever else I might be doing at the time."
Staring blindly down at her empty mug, Liz shifted in her seat (his eyes on her skin like ants), trying not to look uncomfortable. And probably desperately failing, but it hardly mattered — since he could see in her head anyway, even if she did look fine, he wouldn't be fooled for a second. Not that she could say why she was uncomfortable, or even what kind of uncomfortable it was, she just...bluh. "But all the brewing you do, for Pomfrey..." After all, if it was her health against that of who knew how many other students, that calculation might be different.
(But then, Severus had said when he refused, not if — speaking of dying for her like it were a given, something he would do without hesitation if he had to — but she wasn't thinking about that. If she didn't think about it, she didn't have to decide whether she believed him or not.)
But Severus was completely unphased by that objection, didn't even hesitate for a second. "I can always assign fewer essays to give myself more time to keep up, and if it truly comes down to it I can always split the burden with associates of mine outside of the school, or even buy the potions we need. I prefer to brew as many as possible of the potions Pomfrey gives out myself, but I am only one man."
For some inexplicable reason, that only made Liz more uncomfortable. She hunched over her mug, her hair shifting forward a little — not really in her face, but some of it had gotten between her and Severus. There was a brief flare of nerves ("Look at me when I'm talking to you, girl!"), but it was weak and unfocused, it fizzled out almost right away. "Okay, I'll... I'll try to remember. To do that. If it happens again, do you think it will?"
"I suspect so, unfortunately. Such impulses are not unusual among people with your difficulties, and the presence of the dementors will only make it worse. Now that it has happened once, I suspect you may have intermittent moments like this one going forward — I cannot say for certain one way or the other, but I suspect. Considering what you mentioned earlier about your difficulties in first year, perhaps you will feel better after break, and perhaps not. We will have to wait and see, and prepare for whatever comes."
...Well, that sucked. Couldn't they just catch Sirius already? No, okay, she didn't mean that, Dorea probably didn't want her father to have his soul sucked out by those creepy fucking things, but... Maybe she should do the interview or whatever — as bad as that would be, she couldn't imagine how it'd be worse than dealing with this all the time.
"One thing we can try to do is to keep your mood elevated in whatever way we can. By avoiding negative stressors, such as attending class or eating in the Great Hall when you're having an especially bad day, but it would help to seek positive experiences as well. They can be little things, small pleasures, whatever you like. Can you think of things you enjoy doing, that you could do more often?"
"...I don't know." She did read a lot, but she thought that was less because she enjoyed it, necessarily, and more that it could be interesting (she did like knowing things) and it wasn't like she had anything better to do most of the time. Besides, if she was having bad thoughts, she already knew she couldn't focus on reading well enough to distract herself — it didn't work for stupid brain moments either. "Flying is fun, but I already have quidditch practice a lot." Though, maybe going out flying was something she could do next time this happened. It was fun, and she'd be far away from her potions brewing stuff, and maybe she could leave her wand behind...though she probably shouldn't go alone... "Duelling. Just casting magic feels good in general, the more powerful the better, I don't know if that's normal?"
"It is, for most people."
"Right." She'd thought it might be, from bits she got out of people's heads, but that wasn't one of the things people usually talked about, or wrote down in magic theory books. "Um. That blood magic ritual feels really good, but I probably shouldn't do that too often. Chocolate is good? I think that's really it. Well, masturbation too, but that one's obvious." She thought touching herself down there was kind of gross, all slimy and eugh (which was kind of ridiculous, because she had no problem cutting up animal bits in Potions, but whatever), but she'd figured out almost right away she could fold up a pillow between her legs and rub herself on that pretty easy, so, problem solved. The pillow did end up smelling funny, but she did have two of those, she kept that one under a corner of her bed when she wasn't using it.
Severus grimaced, something sharp and hot slicing through the air. "Of course." He hesitated for a second, weighing something in his head, before setting his empty glass on the table and standing up. "One moment." He started walking off, toward what she was pretty sure was the door into his office, slipped through.
...What was that about? Should she not have mentioned that one? He had seemed really uncomfortable. Obviously sex was one of those things people just didn't talk about — and she wouldn't be comfortable talking about it either, but she hadn't, really — but she'd assumed he wouldn't be weird about it. But then, he was an awkward dork, so maybe she shouldn't have...
He wasn't gone very long, after less than a minute returning with a thin little book — very modern-looking, though magic-made, without the plasticy sheen muggle book covers often had. Still eying the shifting discomfort in his head, Liz took the book, Severus then moving on further into his rooms, apparently going to pick up something else.
Out of a lack of any better idea what to do with herself, Liz checked out the book. Weirdly, there was no title anywhere on the plain, dull red cover, so Liz opened it up to a random page. There were diagrams. Some of them were animated.
Liz rolled her eyes, snapped the little book closed. Raising her voice a little, so it'd carry wherever Severus was right now (she couldn't see him), she called, "I'm a bloody mind mage, Severus, I've known all about sex since I was, like, eight."
"Chapter five," he called back.
Okay, then. Liz was a little surprised to find the book had a table of contents at the front, magical books often didn't — this one must be relatively new. The heading was sort of vague, so she flipped over to the right page. Quickly skimming through, this section of the book had a bunch of spells and potions. Some were to...enhance the experience, she guessed was the way to say it, but most of them were contraception and stuff.
Yeah, that wasn't going to be a problem either.
"Honestly, Severus, how likely do you think it is I'm going to be using any of this any time soon?"
"Chapter three."
Sighing to herself, she nonetheless checked what that one was too. It looked like an explanation of how ovulation and menstruation worked...and also advice on how to deal with periods. Right, this she was much more likely to actually use, never mind.
"I should have thought of it earlier, but it entirely slipped my mind that you're a teenager now." There was an odd, flat sort of tone on his voice, Liz could feel the shifting in his head from here, something about it feeling almost...queasy — she got the very clear impression that Severus was uncomfortable with the thought of her having sex (no thanks) or getting periods (eugh), maybe even more than she was.
Which was kind of funny. It was actually making her feel less uncomfortable for some completely unidentifiable reason, her brain was weird. "I'm barely a teenager."
"All the same." Severus reappeared, carrying another book — this one was obviously older, the cover marked with fraying creases. He handed this one to her too, which, okay, she guessed she was getting books today.
The title, she noticed, was in Latin, but she flipped it open to a random page to find the actual text was in English. Right, good, she hadn't even started her Latin lessons yet, that would have been a pain. "What's this?"
Sinking back into his seat with a rustling of cloth, Severus said, "As you are aware, a mage grows more powerful as they cast magic. Varied techniques have been created over the millennia to exploit this tendency to consciously grow a mage's power. How well they work is debatable, but as they involve channelling volumes of magic near your maximum threshold for extended periods, the pleasant side-effects of casting magic are magnified. You'll also find descriptions of techniques to increase your aptitude for certain classes of spells — while I doubt these will truly be able to alter the character of your magic, they will help you to grow accustomed to focusing and channelling the energies involved, so you may find them useful regardless."
Oh. That sounded really neat, actually. "Right. Thanks. Mostly for this one," she said, wiggling the larger book in the air.
Through the discomfort still going on in his head, there was a little flicker of amusement, his lips twitching. "Of course. While these little things will not prevent such episodes from ever recurring, they will help to make them less likely. Hopefully — the causes of such things are not perfectly understood, and thus the methods to prevent them are imprecise."
Liz wasn't certain whether she should be reassured that even people whose job it was to study how feelings worked didn't really understand them either. "Okay. I think just...not dealing with shite when I'm having a bad day will help, but. Yeah, I'll try." It's not like put more time into doing things you like doing was really that much of a burden...especially when the alternative was maybe getting so miserable she thought killing herself sounded like a great idea.
"Good," Severus said with a subtle little nod. "And, of course, if anything in particular is troubling you, I would like you to tell me about it. Even if you feel there is nothing I can do about whatever it is — perhaps I will think of something you did not, and in any case, sometimes simply working through these things out loud with another person can be helpful."
That wasn't the first time Severus had said something like that, and Liz was still sceptical — seemed to her that talking about something making her miserable would just make her more miserable — but she guessed maybe it helped normal people, so. "It never really is something in particular, just a lot of little things all added up get to be too much."
"All the same. Now, it is getting late. I'm not kicking you out — you may stay longer if you wish to — but you should try to get to sleep at some point."
Frowning, Liz reached for her wand to check the time...and then remembered she'd left it in her room, whoops. Whatever, they'd been talking for what felt like forever, and she was tired, it was probably after curfew already. "Thanks—" Severus did not sleep enough, she was kind of baffled that he was offering to have her cut into it more. "—but I think I'll go to bed. Well, probably read a little first, but."
"If you wish not to be alone just now, you may stay. I have a spare bedroom."
For some reason, that offer made her feel weirdly embarrassed. "No, I'm fine." It was only then that she realised Severus meant she might not be comfortable returning so soon to the same place she'd gotten the scary thoughts, and that she might want someone around in case she got it into her head to do something stupid. "Oh! No, um, that's not a problem, I really do feel better now. Actually, I might do some scrying instead — it can be a little tiring, and it takes more concentration than just reading, so. I'll be fine, don't worry about it."
"Send in Nilanse if you change your mind — my wards only open for Albus, Poppy, and myself."
She wasn't going to change her mind, but good to know.
Unsure of what else to say or do, Liz pulled her boots back on (not bothering to tighten them properly just to walk back to her room) and stood up...and then lingered awkwardly, because she had no idea what to do with her mug. Apparently it was conjured, because Severus just vanished it with a flick of his fingers — which was less impressive than it looked, unravelling a conjuration only required a dispel — and led the way out through his office. Which was unnecessary, but okay.
She froze when they got to the door into the common room, feeling...she didn't know, exactly, she was shite at feelings things. It felt like she wanted to say something, but she didn't know what it was, so it just kind of caught in her throat, hard enough she couldn't breathe for a moment. And the moment stretched on, Severus standing right there holding the door open (presumably so he could close it after her), increasingly awkward second to second, and Liz still didn't know what was going on. In the end she just hissed good night and fled.
...That might have been Parseltongue. Oops.
Right, bed, bed sounded like an excellent idea...
Oh my god, I am so bad at predicting how long a scene will take. There was originally going to be a second scene in this chapter, but I'm going to have to move around the chapter breaks for winter instead. No big deal, this works fine, just holy shit you two, babbly bastards...
I'm partway through figuring out way more detail than necessary on the government/politics of magical Britain, complete with how each family in the Wizengamot would vote on a list of proposals — a total of...130? Jesus. Yeah, way more detail than necessary. When I'm done, I may or may not format it into something that can be posted, we'll see.
So anyway, Liz having random inexplicable suicidal thoughts, those are always fun. I'm gonna give you all a minor spoiler and say that this is literally the worst Liz ever gets — as much as things suck for her now, it's mostly all up from here. There's a lot going on in this chapter (despite literally nothing actually happening), there's plenty I could say about all kinds of things, so instead I'm going to say nothing. Bye.