Chapter Twelve: Unexpected Reactions
Severus exited the library and turned left, walking slowly down the hallway. Spotting a closed door further down, Severus approached and pushed it open.
Someone sat in the wheelchair, their back to the door. As he strode in, Severus saw a flash of movement, as if whoever was out was hiding something. Raising his eyebrows questioningly, he closed the door and walked around the chair to face the alter.
"Good evening," he said, making the person jump. He hadn't meant to startle them, but he had.
Whoever was out looked up but quickly looked away.
"Who's out?" Severus asked, taking a seat at a nearby desk, facing the alter.
"Chase," came the voice, quiet and barely audible.
Severus nodded. "Are you all right, Chase?"
Chase nodded. "Fine."
Severus rolled his eyes, not believing the answer, but not pressing it. "Is there a particular reason why you're out?"
"Can't I be out just because?"
"Naturally, but you aren't one to be out for pure pleasure."
"Oh, and you think you know me all of a sudden?"
"Hardly."
"Then what?"
"I am merely checking to be sure you are doing all right. The only time I have seen you out was when you had been triggered and when you introduced yourself to me."
"So?"
"Were you triggered out?"
"And if I was? What's it to you?"
"I will take that to mean that you were," Severus said. "You seem to be calm now. Are you going back inside, then?"
"I can't," Chase ground out through gritted teeth.
"Can't?"
"I'm stuck."
"Stuck?"
"I can't go back inside."
"Front stuck."
"Sure, whatever that is."
"When an alter becomes stuck fronting due to overwhelming emotions or the interference of a gatekeeper."
Chase shrugged. "I don't even know where anyone is," he said, voice quieter than before, almost worried.
"Give it time," Severus said. "Once you have fully calmed, you may find yourself able to retreat."
Chase didn't respond.
Severus picked up the kit in front of Chase and made a mental catalog of each item inside it. He peered at Chase, frowning. "This quill sharpening kit is missing it's knife."
"Okay," Chase said. "Why are you telling me that?"
"I am merely making an observation."
"Right."
"Do you know where it might be?"
Chase shook his head, looking down, body tense.
"Chase?"
"What?"
"Are you lying to me?"
Chase didn't answer.
"Chase?"
"What?"
"Answer me."
"Why?"
"I need to know if you have the knife."
"Why?"
"I want to be sure you are safe."
"How would you knowing if I had the knife keep me safe?"
"If you've harmed yourself, I need to know so that I may help you."
"What is there to help?" Chase asked, lifting his head, fury in his eyes. "There isn't a damn thing anyone can do to help me. No one gives a damn anyway, why should you?"
"Because I am your guardian," Severus said, setting the kit onto the table and kneeling in front of the wheelchair.
"So?"
"So, I care."
"Bullshit. No one gives a damn about me, about us."
"You're wrong." Severus voice was quiet. "I care."
Chase snorted. "Prove it."
"Give me the knife."
"What knife?"
"I saw you tucking something away when I first entered. Hand over the knife."
Chase scowled. "Make me."
"No."
"No?"
"You're expecting me to tear it from you. You're expecting me to harass you for it. You're expecting me to scream at you, scold you, and demand answers. I'm not going to do that."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"Sit here with you."
Chase blinked.
"The knife."
Chase hesitated.
"I am not angry with you. I am here to help you. Give me the knife."
Chase hesitated again then reached into his robes and passed over the knife.
Severus took the knife and examined it briefly before sterilizing it with a wave of his wand, returning it to the kit, and standing.
"Let's head down to my office," he said.
Chase eyed Severus warily.
"You are not in trouble," Severus said. "There was blood on the knife, I need to tend to your wounds."
"Why you?"
"Would you rather visit Madam Pomphrey?"
Chase shook his head.
"That's what I thought." He stood and went behind the chair, turning it towards the door, opening it with a flick of his wand. Turning out of the room, he guided the chair down the hallway and towards his office, levitating the chair down each flight of stairs as they moved.
Severus was silent as he guided the wheelchair, calm, but thoughtful. He knew that Chase had harmed himself, that much was evident. Why he had done it, he couldn't say. Whatever the reason, his first priority was to assure Chase's physical health, then his mental.
When they reached his office, Severus unlocked it and guided the wheelchair inside and over to his desk, closing the door behind them.
"Show me your wounds," he said.
Chase shook his head.
Severus gritted his teeth for a second, trying to remain patient. He understood the boy's hesitation, but he didn't enjoy being the one to try to break through it. Then again, if he didn't, who would? He was the best person for this job. Chase required someone steady—someone willing to work with him, someone who would push him, but not so far as to push him away—and he, unfortunately, fit the bill.
"Why not?" Severus asked the boy. "Why won't you let me see your wounds?"
Chase didn't respond.
"Are you worried I will judge you?"
No response.
"Do you fear I will be angry with you?"
Nothing.
"Chase, talk to me."
"No," Chase mumbled. "You don't need to see them."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm fine. I'll take care of them later."
Severus shook his head. "I need to see them for myself. I need to know if I can help you, or if you need to be brought to the hospital wing."
At the mention of the hospital wing, Chase sighed, hesitating slightly before rolling -up his sleeves and quickly crossing his arms across his chest.
"Chase," Severus said patiently. "Your arms. Please."
Chase scowled but extended his arms, turning his head, looking away from the professor.
Severus peered down at Chase's arms and winced. The boy had done quite a number on himself. The cuts, many which were still bleeding, were deep, but not deep enough to be dangerous.
Chase pulled back his arms after a few seconds, but before he could roll his sleeves back down, Severus lightly touched his hand, shaking his head.
"Leave it," he said. "They need to be cleaned."
Chase scowled but did as he was told.
Severus rose and retrieved a large first-aid kit from atop one of the cabinets. Kneeling in front of Chase once more, he withdrew a small cloth and bowl, enlarging the bowl with a flick of his wand.
"Aguamenti," he murmured, and the bowl filled with cool water.
Gently taking Chase's arm, Severus dipped the cloth into the cool water and firmly pressed it to the wounds. Chase winced and tried to pull away, but Severus' grip was firm.
"Hold still," he said. "Cool water will stop the bleeding. Normally, the bleeding would cease with the help of a potion, but as your body rejects potions, that will not work. Thus, the Muggle methods will have to do."
"I want to go back inside," Chase said, voice soft.
Severus peered at Chase, an unreadable expression briefly crossing his features before settling back to his usual stony countenance.
"I know," was all he said.
Chase sat back and allowed Severus to tend to his arms. Once the bleeding had been stopped, Severus cleansed the cuts, which made Chase wince, and bandaged both arms.
"Now," Severus said, snipping the end of the roll of medical tape and closing the kit. "What caused you to harm yourself?"
Chase didn't respond.
"Chase," Severus said, voice softening slightly. "I need to know so I can help to—"
"To what?" Chase snapped. "To prevent it? Good luck with that. You can't. I'm going to do whatever I want, whenever I want, and you can't stop me."
"You're right," Severus agreed. "I can't stop you, but I can help you. I won't try to stop you."
Chase blinked.
"If you want to harm yourself, you will find a way to do so, regardless of whether or not I try to stop you. However, I am your guardian. I care about your wellbeing, whether you choose to believe that or not. It is my job to help you, to be sure you are safe, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I don't expect you to immediately trust me. Far from it. I expect you to resist my every attempt to assist you. Keep resisting me. I will still be here to help you. Now, what caused you to harm yourself today?"
Chase sat back and closed his eyes. He remained silent for several moments before saying, "The loud noise, I think."
"In the library?"
Chase nodded.
"Were you out before?"
Chase shook his head.
"The noise triggered you out."
A nod.
"It frightened you." It wasn't a question.
Chase nodded.
"Ashley and Madam Pince informed me that you left in quite a hurry and appeared to be panicking. Did harming yourself calm you down?"
Chase nodded ever so slightly but didn't otherwise respond.
"What about it calmed you?" Severus asked. "The pain? The repetitive motion? The blood?"
"Depends," Chase muttered.
Severus nodded. He withdrew a small band from his desk and pressed it against the back of Chase's hand.
"What's this?" Chase asked, reflexively taking the band into his hand.
"Wear it," Severus said simply. "When you have the urge to harm yourself, pull the band away from your skin and let go. It may hurt, but it won't leave you bleeding."
"Why?" Chase asked, fingering the band.
"Why what?"
"Why are you giving me something I can use to hurt myself?"
"Minimization," Severus said. "Yes, the band will hurt, but, as I said, it will not draw blood. This minimizes the risk that you take when you use a knife to cut your skin."
"What if I cut myself again?"
"Then you cut yourself again. Come to me and I will tend to your wounds. The band is there to give you a choice as to how you harm yourself, should you choose to do so. In time, you may find yourself stepping away from the knife and preferring the band. Once you have gotten into the habit of harming yourself, it is difficult to give up. It is, for all intents and purposes, an addiction, and one that is not easily overcome. The band will help with that. It is a transitional tool—the knife, to the band, then, in time, to better, safer coping mechanisms."
"I don't always use a knife," Chase said.
Severus shrugged. "Whatever you find yourself using. You may find yourself leaning more towards the band instead, after some time. It is not an instantaneous transition."
Chase inclined his head slightly.
"There is more that can be said on this topic, but I am no therapist. When you feel ready, bring this up with Anna. Until then, I will do my best to help you."
Chase nodded slightly. "Leo's nearby," he said.
"Are you switching then?"
Chase paused then scowled. "He won't let me. I still can't go back inside."
"Did he say why?"
Chase shook his head, scowling. "I fucking hate being out, but apparently, I'm stuck out here until Leo's dumb ass decides to let me back in."
"Watch your language," Severus said firmly. "When you are with friends, say whatever you like, but when I or another adult is around, you will watch your mouth and show some respect, understood?"
Chase scowled. "Whatever."
Severus was about to say something more on the subject but looked up as the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron, floated in, chains rattling behind him. He hurried over to the desk and stopped by Severus, glancing briefly at Chase.
"Yes?" Severus asked, eyeing the Baron.
"Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you," he said.
"For what reason?"
The Baron shrugged. "He did not say."
Severus rolled his eyes and sighed softly. Turning to Chase, he said, "Very well. Chase, we are done here, for the time being. Nelly."
"You is called, sir?" Nelly greeted as she appeared, bowing to Severus.
Severus nodded. "Get Chase here something to eat and drink. Chase, you may remain here and eat, provided the Baron will stay with you to keep an eye on you."
The Bloody Baron nodded.
"I don't need babysitting," Chase scowled.
Severus stood and lightly touched Chase's arms. "No," he agreed, "but you also don't need to be left alone with your thoughts. This is not a punishment. You are more than welcome to eat in your room, if you wish."
Chase considered the option before shaking his head. "People will wonder why I have bandages."
"That is none of their business," Severus said firmly.
"Can't you hide them?"
"I can."
"Then do it," Chase snapped.
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Hide them so people don't question." Chase paused then softened his tone, speaking quietly. "Please?"
Severus studied the boy for a long moment before withdrawing his wand and waving it over the bandages. "They will still be able to be felt, but they cannot be seen."
Chase nodded slightly in thanks as Severus strode out of the room.
"What would Master Chase like to eat?" Nelly asked.
Chase blinked. "Uh, Master?"
Nelly nodded. "Nelly is assigned to be helping you and everyone in your system, sir. You is, technically, Nelly's masters and mistresses. Except for Leo."
"Why except him?"
Nelly giggled. "Leo says it makes him feel old when Nelly calls him Master, sir."
Chase snorted. "It's just a title, you stupid Brit," Chase muttered.
Nelly giggled. "Food, sir?"
Chase shrugged. "I… I, uh… I don't usually eat. Anything is fine."
"How hungry is you?"
Chase shrugged. "A little. I think we already ate dinner, but I don't know."
"You did," Nelly confirmed.
Chase nodded. "Something small, then."
"Nelly can do that, sir. Nelly will return shortly." And with that, the elf was gone.
Chase settled back in the wheelchair and tried to reach out to Leo again. "Why won't you let me in?" he asked.
"You don't need to be let in."
"Why?"
"For your own good."
"For my own good? I'm stuck out here. How is that for my own good!"
"You're dealing with the consequences of your actions."
"The consequences of my actions?"
"You harmed yourself."
"So?"
"So, you can't simply run and hide from this anymore."
"I never hid."
"Didn't you?"
"No! I never fucking hid!"
"Chase, every time you had to front to deal with the body's anxiety, every time you harmed the body, every time you sabotaged something in the outer world, you fled back into the inner world."
"So?"
"So, you cannot do that anymore. There are people that want to help you."
Chase snorted.
"Furthermore," Leo continued, as if Chase hadn't snorted. "It is my job to allow them to help you. You need to face what you do. If you harm the body, you cannot run and hide, leaving one of us to pick up your mess. It's time for you to be responsible for your actions. Professor Snape will not harm you, nor will he scold or ridicule you for making a mistake. Call me being an ass, call it tough love, but it is what it is."
Chase scowled. "You irritate me."
"I know. Now, pay attention. The Baron is speaking to you."
Chase blinked and looked up.
"You weren't listening, were you?" the Baron asked.
Chase shook his head slightly.
The Baron leaned forward and touched Chase's arms, sending cold through the bandages and up his arms. "You have wounds," he said.
Chase nodded slightly.
"Self-inflicted?"
Chase raised an eyebrow.
"I've seen it many times," the Baron said. "I know battle wounds when I see them, even if they are covered up and hidden."
Chase shrugged. "It's fine," he muttered.
"You cannot fool me, lad. I know it is not fine. Why did you do it?"
Chase didn't answer.
"What were you hoping to accomplish by hurting yourself?"
Chase didn't respond.
"You're not going to talk," the Baron said. "That's fine. I'll speak for you. I understand your pain, in a way, lad.
"Many, many, many years ago, I attended this school, in the early days of its existence. I was a Slytherin, much like you. I was taught by Salazar Slytherin himself. It was a glorious time, if I'm being honest.
"During my time at Hogwarts, I met Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter. She rejected me, on multiple occasions. Unrequited love is brutal, let me tell you, lad.
"Years later, after I graduated, I was asked by Rowena to bring Helena to her, as she had fallen fatally ill and wished to see her daughter before she died. I found Helena, in the forests of Albania. She refused to return with me, and in a fit of rage… I did something I can never undo. I killed her. Once I had seen what I'd done, I turned the knife on myself. These chains that you hear are the chains I wear as way of repentance."
Chase looked over at the Baron and tilted his head. "What's your point?" he asked quietly.
"My point is, lad, that though my pain may not be the same as yours, I do understand pain. You are not the first student I have seen with self-inflicted wounds, though, I must admit, most are older than you."
"I'm fifteen. I'm in the body of a stupid eleven-year-old baby."
The Baron nodded. "Yes, I know," he said. "I was speaking physically. You know, being so harsh to Haley does you no good."
"So? It's not meant to. I'm the only one smart enough to see the truth. She's a fucking baby."
"She is a child."
"So? I dealt with worse shit than she did at her age. We all did. We kept her from it, which is fucking ridiculous."
"Why?"
"She can't handle a damn thing!"
"And that's bad?"
"Yes! She's weak! Fragile! Insignificant!"
"You have a lot of anger, son."
"Yeah, and?"
"And you have nowhere to displace it except your skin. I see the band on your wrist Professor Snape has no doubt given you. Use it. Whenever you can, use it. I will not tell you to stop. One, it is not my place to do so, and two, it is not that simple. However, I will say this. If you ever need to talk, or simply want somewhere quiet to sit and think, find me. That goes for everyone in your… system, I believe it is called."
Chase nodded slightly. "I'm… going back inside," he said quietly. "If Leo will let me," he added bitterly.
Leo chuckled. "Come on in, Chase. I can see you're done for the day."
"I'm done for more than a day," Chase growled, standing up from the rock and hurrying away.
