Draco's Appointment
The following week flew by so fast that Zelda couldn't believe it. They needed to plan for Christmas, but she and Severus were so busy that planning would have to wait.
On Monday, Severus had brought a surprise with him from Hogwarts. He spent some time arranging it carefully, as Rowena watched. When Zelda arrived home, he greeted her at the door, taking the ever-present box of homework and setting it aside. She allowed him to remove her coat and lay it over a chair, smiling into his black eyes.
"Good afternoon, my girl," he said, tousling her hair fondly. "Come see our new communication system."
"Okay," she replied, intrigued. Rowena bounced along by her side.
On the living room wall was hung an elaborate picture frame. It was smaller than the ones in the Headmistress's office, but obviously magical.
Zelda's eyes were wide. "Who is it?" she asked. "Severus! It's not…"
"Phineas Nigellus. Of course it is," replied Severus. "Can you imagine Minerva depriving him of the chance to be mocked by you?"
"He started it," she said defensively. "I remember him calling me a strumpet and treating me like I was some cheap tart."
"Instead of my own delectable little pearl beyond price," he whispered, toying with the curls around her right ear. "He'll behave, Mrs. Snape. You are mine."
"Is he coming here now?" she asked. "More important, can he see over by the fireplace?"
"I positioned the frame perfectly," replied Severus. "I will not give up our pleasures for any reason."
"We can always hang a curtain or an old towel over him, if need be," she suggested cynically. "But thanks for thinking of this. You could've just told me to get over my needy self. You're the best husband ever."
"Snape, if I must do this petty task, I expect to be treated with respect," hissed a snide voice. "Furthermore, I have not the slightest interest in watching your constant, undignified canoodling."
Phineas Nigellus Black strolled into view, a sour look on his saturnine features. "Mrs. Snape," he murmured with a miniscule nod. "Congratulations on acquiring a wizard husband. Do you understand yet what that will mean for you?"
"It means that I'm incredibly happy and that I can frequently canoodle with the sexiest Slytherin on earth," she said with a bright smile. "I was kidding about the old towel, by the way. Watch, if it makes you happy."
"Phineas will notify you if I am delayed, my love," said Severus.
Just then Rowena realized that there was a guest on the wall. She began barking at the portrait wizard, which made Zelda laugh.
"Quiet, Rowena," she said sternly, putting a restraining hand on the dog's collar. When all was quiet again, she looked up at Phineas Nigellus. "She barked at you last summer, didn't she?"
"Yes," he muttered, looking offended. "Does this mean you have not regained all your memories?"
"Not everything," she replied. "Not yet. But I will."
"I shall depart now," he said stiffly.
"Thank Minerva for this, and thank you, Phineas," she said with a grateful smile.
Once he was gone she hugged Severus impulsively. "You're wonderful."
He studied her carefully. She still seemed haunted at times, but the trust shining in her eyes grew stronger every day. He gave her a long, lingering kiss. "You look well. Try not to worry, my girl. Now we have work to do, haven't we?"
&&&&&&&&&
The rest of the week was quite uneventful at home. Severus was pleased to fall back into the routine they'd been developing, and while he was with Zelda, at least, he had never felt more content.
At Hogwarts, however, there was frustration. He tried several times to speak with Draco Malfoy, but when he finally cornered him, Draco refused to tell him anything. The boy arrived late for his appointment and looked extremely uncomfortable sitting before his rescuer and former teacher.
"I'm fine, Professor," Draco told him firmly.
The boy looked precisely the opposite of fine. There were dark hollows under his eyes and his skin had a faint, unhealthy grayish tinge to it. He used Occlumency to prevent any intrusion into his mind.
"Draco, I was the one that Miss Vane told of your injury. When I arrived, you were under the Body-Bind, beaten and left alone in an isolated corridor. You cannot fool me into believing it was an accident."
A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Vincent Crabbe, who stared in surprise at the presence of Draco Malfoy.
"I'm sorry, Professor," said Crabbe, his large face flushing. "I guess I'm early. Should I wait?"
"No!" said Draco hastily. "I'll be late for N.E.W.T. Potions, if I don't go now."
"Mr. Malfoy, you will return to see me at one o'clock on Thursday," Severus snapped coldly. "Do not keep me waiting."
Draco nodded and practically fled from the room.
"Please be seated, Mr. Crabbe," said Severus, striving for patience.
The next hour, while frustrating, gave Severus a twinge of hope. Young Crabbe, while as intellectually challenged as his moron of a father, seemed to be giving more effort to his schoolwork than ever before.
"If you continue to work hard, I believe you can pass your Potions and Charms O.W.L.s this spring," he said as he wrote another list of assignments. "But you have more work to do before I am confident that you can pass DADA, Vincent."
"Thank you, Professor," said Crabbe, his normally dull eyes expressing a glimmer of hope. "Since it doesn't look like my father's ever getting out… from Azkaban, I mean, everything's gotten awful at home. My mother's counting on me to succeed now."
Severus had not considered what life at home might be like for the Death Eaters' children. The pressure Crabbe was under must be intense. It was having a positive effect on his schoolwork, but he wondered what the common room was like this year, and if problems of home had followed these young people back to school. He frowned slightly.
Have you decided what you wish to do after you finish school?" he asked abruptly.
Crabbe shook his head stupidly. "My father had, uh, plans for me. I didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything. Now… I don't know what to do, Professor Snape," he confessed with a miserable frown.
Severus sighed. Career counseling had obviously made no impression in the past, but now the boy seemed almost paralyzed with fear when he thought of the future. How many others were in this position?
He handed over the parchment with the week's assignments. "Here you are, Mr. Crabbe. I'll see you next week at this time. Bring these notes to Professors Tonks, Flitwick and Davis, apprising them of your progress."
After Crabbe shambled out of his office, Severus sat in silence for a few minutes, deep in thought.
&&&&&&&&&
Tuesday afternoon, precisely at three o'clock, Severus knocked on the door of Professor Flitwick's office.
"Come in," sang the Charms teacher. "Come warm yourself, my friend. I'll never understand why anyone would choose to live down in the chilly dungeon."
Severus entered to find his former teacher seated by the fireplace, with a tea tray before him.
Good afternoon, Filius," he said. "I'm sorry I did not see you before this, but you were right about the Memory Charm. It was a powerful one, and Zelda has suffered at times as her mind fights to recover her true memories."
"How is she now? Minerva told me that she is able to remember some things," he said, smiling brightly as he poured a steaming cup of tea. "Did you use the potion that you made?"
A faint smile touched the younger wizard's face. "She is very well now, although she still has much healing to do. I did use the potion, and although it had some effect, you were also right about it not giving complete or instant results."
"And I believe you are happy, Severus," he stated. "Your Zelda is a charming young witch. I look forward to meeting her again."
Severus sighed slightly. He hated to complicate things, but this man was the kindest and most accepting of wizards. If he was unable to accept Zelda, then she must never come here. "Filius, Zelda is a Muggle. I don't believe it is safe or right to bring her to Hogwarts."
"Really!" said Professor Flitwick, his eyes wide. He looked blank for a moment and then chuckled. "I had no idea. I believe she fooled us all when she was here in the summer. Does Minerva know?"
"Minerva and Hagrid know, as did Firenze. I'm grateful that Slughorn never knew. Zelda does not yet remember anything of what happened that day, and she'll grieve deeply when she remembers all of it."
"No wonder she was so knowledgeable about Muggle Studies," crowed the tiny wizard, chuckling again. "The Muggle Studies class is quite popular this year, thanks to her assistance. Has she met young Clearwater?"
"No," replied Severus. "She does not yet remember working on the class curriculum. She's a teacher herself, and very busy with her own work."
"Ah, so that part was true. I hope you will be able to return here and bring her with you. Hogwarts has not been the same without you, Severus."
"Thank you. However we can make no plans until Zelda has recovered her memory completely."
"I must ask you," he murmured mischievously, "Severus are you contemplating matrimony?"
Severus simply nodded. He could not yet admit to anyone that he now contemplated and reveled in it every hour of every day.
"Marvelous! I'm indeed happy for you," he exclaimed. "But I shan't say a word until you give me leave. You're quite right to take great care of your young woman."
"Thank you," replied Severus. "I am very fortunate. Now, Filius, I have several things to discuss with you regarding the recent disturbances."
An hour later, Severus had not learned much he wasn't already beginning to suspect, but he was reassured by Professor Flitwick's enthusiastic support. His last stop of the day was Professor McGonagall's office, where they had a frank discussion. He acquired her permission to call in outside assistance and after reluctantly answering several invasive questions about his personal life, received some unsolicited but good advice from her.
He went back to his office, sent out an urgent message, received his reply and was home in time to cook dinner and greet his wife on her return from work.
&&&&&&&&&
Wednesday had been very busy, as he planned to be away from Hogwarts the next day. He discussed his plan with Zelda and she promised not to worry if he arrived home late the following day.
"You have to tell me what happens, though," she said. "This'll be quite interesting."
"Of course I will," he promised. He eyed her speculatively. "But now, I feel quite careworn, my girl. I wish you would help me relax."
One eyebrow rose quizzically. "Poor darling Severus," she murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "You work so hard and you're all tense. Come into the bedroom and let me undress you. Then you tell me how I can make it better."
He smirked as she led him to the bedroom and gleefully followed his precise instructions. Whatever the morrow would bring, he reflected as she enthusiastically plundered his clothing, he definitely felt much better this evening.
&&&&&&&&&
The reception area of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was nearly empty on that Thursday afternoon. Severus watched Draco Malfoy closely. At first apathetic, when the young man learned their destination, he became agitated and refused. Fortunately, Minerva McGonagall was standing by and ordered Draco to accompany him. It still seemed possible that he might flee.
Severus used his wand to open the door to the Albus Dumbledore Clinic and escorted Draco inside.
"Draco Malfoy is here for his appointment," he said to the reception witch.
"Very good, Professor Snape," she replied with a slight simper.
He turned to Draco. "Sit down, please."
"This is moronic," muttered Draco suddenly. "I'm bloody well not going to talk to some pathetic excuse for a Healer. I'm fine, Professor."
"Perhaps if you were in Gryffindor I'd happily watch you self-destruct, Draco. However, House pride demands that you survive and thrive. Furthermore, your mother would be upset if she knew what's been occurring recently."
"You didn't tell her, did you?" asked Draco, suddenly looking worried. "She's…"
"What?" asked Severus piercingly. "Have you heard from her recently?"
Draco became silent and looked away childishly, so Severus decided not to push him harder.
The door at the far end of the room opened.
"Good afternoon, Severus," said Michael Fletcher. "Mr. Malfoy, it's good to see you again," he said, looking at Draco sitting hunched and sullen next to Severus.
Severus rose and shook hands, but Draco remained seated.
Michael looked into the wizard's black eyes, brief laughter giving way to concern.
"I don't believe this!" Draco snarled. "Professor, do you seriously expect me to talk to some bloody Muggle about my non-existent problems?"
He rose and began pacing back and forth in the waiting room, his voice rising. "I'm perfectly fine. If I weren't, how could someone like that have the slightest idea what my life's like? I'm not a wretched Muggle, I'm a Malfoy!"
"Are you quite finished, Mr. Malfoy?" hissed Severus, his voice filled with cold anger. "You will follow Mr. Fletcher into his office and you will behave as befits a student of Hogwarts! We shall spend the next hour here. You may speak or you may listen, but you will control yourself."
Draco froze and the gray eyes flashed defiant silver briefly, but suddenly the fire went out. He followed Severus and Michael back to the office and sank dispiritedly into the chair that was offered to him.
"Now," said Michael with a professional air, "Professor McGonagall has referred you to the Dumbledore Clinic, Mr. Malfoy. Technically speaking, this clinic was founded to deal with problems relating to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That's a disorder often seen in war veterans, but anyone can suffer from it, if they've suffered severe mental and emotional trauma."
Draco opened his mouth as though to speak, but changed his mind and closed it firmly.
"I have a brief history, given to me by your Headmistress, and I'm aware that you were put on trial recently. I've been told you'll probably despise me, so I've arranged that you'll see Healer Pye. He's what you'd call a pure-blood, so that won't be an obstacle to your treatment."
"What treatment?" asked Draco cautiously.
"Well, this is based on my limited understanding of your circumstances. Your father is in prison for life. You and your mother were isolated for months after you attempted to kill your Headmaster. Recently at school you've been the victim of several attacks, yet you've been remarkably indifferent and have no interest in ending the situation. All these things are cause for concern."
"What'll you do, give me a course of Shock Spells?" asked Draco sarcastically, but with a hint of fear.
"God, no," said Michael. His eyes grew intense. "That's barbaric. But listen, Mr. Malfoy. When I was a year older than you, I made the brilliant decision to join our military and ended up in a horrible, fucking war. Many years later I was still trapped in that war in my mind. It took a long time and hard work to figure out how I got like that and to take control of my own life. But I did it. Maybe you need to figure out who you are and take control of your life."
As Severus listened to Michael, he was impressed by his friend's wisdom and professionalism. He smiled slightly, wishing Draco wasn't such a bloody bigoted brat. Michael was undoubtedly the best possible person to help the boy. When Michael paused and looked in his direction, he sent the thought to his friend, whose brown eyes twinkled warmly in response.
Draco saw a brief exchange between the two men. He hadn't realized they knew each other and was shocked to see that Professor Snape seemed to respect this freaky Muggle.
Someone knocked on the door. "What is it?" asked Michael.
The door opened and the reception witch said, "It's about your next appointment. Can you come out her for a moment?"
Michael frowned and said, "Excuse me. I'll be right back."
No sooner than the door closed behind him, Draco turned to Severus.
"Sir, what should I do? Must I do this?"
"Draco, I think he understands the situation remarkably well," said Severus. "The Headmistress requires that you have some treatment. It seems that your choice is between Michael Fletcher and Augustus Pye."
"He's a Muggle," said Draco sullenly. "You know him, don't you? How can you respect a Muggle?"
"Surely your father didn't neglect to tell you that my own father was a Muggle?" he replied cynically. "I respect those I find worthy of respect, and those people are few and far between. Michael is a clever, insightful man. I don't know Augustus Pye, but I doubt that anyone can help you more than Michael Fletcher. If you want help, that is."
Draco looked intently into Severus's eyes. "What's the point of it?" he asked with a bitter sneer.
"Your life has value," said Severus. "You can waste it, or make something of it. You're seventeen years old, Draco, intelligent and capable. I hope you'll work toward a good future for yourself."
"But…"
"Draco, if you are able to forget blood status for an hour, once a week, I suggest you see Michael. If not, then see Pye. However," said Severus sternly, "you are a Hogwarts student, and I expect appropriate behavior, no matter who you choose to see."
The door opened and Michael smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that," he murmured. "Now, I'll send for Pye and we can arrange a regular time for your visits."
"Sir, if it's all right, I'd prefer to see you," said Draco nervously.
"That's fine with me, but are you sure?" asked Michael. "Remember my Mugglehood. I'm a certified, non-wand bearing, ordinary bloke, Mr. Malfoy."
A ghost of a bitter smile touched Draco's tense mouth. "I doubt I'll forget. But please call me Draco. My father is Mr. Malfoy, not me."
"Very well, Draco. Do you have any questions for me?"
"You know Potter and his friends, don't you? That day when I was at your house… Professor Snape knows you. How do you know them?"
"I stumbled into your world by chance, and I was glad to help in the fight against Voldemort," said Michael. "I saw you flinch when I said his name. Most people do. Coming from outside, it makes me wonder how bad it was if no one dared to say his name."
Draco tried not to visibly shudder. He'd never forget that horrible white face with the burning red eyes.
"Anyway, we're almost finished here today. I'd like to see you again tomorrow, if possible, and after that, once a week. Everything we say here, after today, is confidential. I will not repeat anything you tell me to anyone."
Relief washed through Draco. He'd wondered if this man would talk to Professor Snape or the Headmistress.
"Okay," he said quietly. "How long do I have to keep coming here?"
"Let's give it a few weeks and see how we feel after that," said Michael reassuringly. "Can you come tomorrow morning? If Professor Snape can't bring you, I'm sure someone can get you here at nine o'clock."
Draco looked at Severus, who nodded.
"I'll check when we return to Hogwarts, but I believe it is fine," he said.
Michael rose from his chair and said, "That's all for today, then." He offered his hand to Draco. "I'll see you tomorrow Draco. Please take care of yourself until then."
Draco smiled with an effort and shook his hand. As they were leaving, he listened to the older men talking.
"Everything okay at home, Sev?" asked Michael.
"Adequate," replied Severus smugly. "Thank you for today, Michael. We'll be in touch soon."
Severus Apparated with Draco back to the gates of Hogwarts. He was now able to open the gates himself again, with Minerva and Hagrid's blessing. They walked most of the way back to the castle in silence, which was too good to last, he realized as he saw Draco's mouth open.
"Are you actually friends with him?" asked Draco warily.
"Why not?"
"I… I guess there's no reason," he replied tiredly. As they drew near the castle Draco felt the heaviness, which had lightened while they'd been away, return to him. This place where everyone hated him just sucked the life from him.
"Professor, can he really help me?" he asked desperately.
"Try him," said Severus softly. "He's very capable."
They entered the dungeon and Draco headed for the Slytherin common room. Severus went to his office and sat alone, thinking of what had transpired. He could force Draco Malfoy to go to St. Mungo's, but it was Draco's decision whether to help himself. He wished the boy had a parent he could consult with, but Lucius was out of the question and Narcissa was, well, he didn't know. However, he knew someone who might know. He decided to make one brief visit before he went home.