Lucius and the Shrink

by notwolf

After the war, Lucius is sentenced to see a psychiatrist.

4. Chapter 4

16

Lucius and the Shrink—Chapter 4

"Lucius, I believe we've finally begun making progress."

Lying on the settee in Dr. Tate's office, counting the faux tiles in the ceiling, Lucius muttered out of habit, "It's Mr. Malfoy. And it's about time! Does this torture never end? I've been enduring these godforsaken sessions for months!" And without a single comment on my brilliant new haircut, I might add. It had only been a trim, but it called for some recognition, didn't it? He tossed back his mane and began twirling a lock around one finger.

Tate watched Malfoy playing with his hair and wrote Uses nervous habits to self-soothe. "And now our work is bearing fruit. Another year or two—" Cut off by a murderous glare, he murmured, "Well, we'll discuss that later. It seems Severus is la—"

"Exactly on time," said Snape as the door banged open and he glided in, robes billowing. He'd worn his extra-billowy set for the entrance alone, and inwardly it pleased him to see the psychiatrist admiring his awe-inspiring style. It wasn't the sort of joy he derived from the fear in the eyes of his students, but it was a start.

"Hello, Severus," said Dr. Tate. Goth look intensifying. Worryingly bat-like.

Severus briefly contemplated staring him down, then opted instead to ignore him altogether. "Lucius, good to see you. Nice haircut."

"Thank you for noticing, Severus. Some people are so stuck on themselves it goes right past them." He took out his pocket watch to check the time. "I've been here for ages, waiting. My father always said promptness is a virtue, and I took his teachings to heart." He craned his neck to view what the muggle was writing in that blasted notebook of his. As usual, it made no sense whatsoever.

Lucius proud, apt pupil of his Voldemort…father…whatever.

As if to burst Malfoy's bubble, Severus drawled, "Yes, you were always meticulous about obedience. Is that why you were beaten so often?" He marched across the room and stiffly seated himself on his divan, precisely in the middle as he did every session. Territorial or not, this was his couch now! Or was it? It seemed different. He wiggled his rear on the leather, brows puckered. With a dramatic eye roll he gestured at the chair set up to form a semi-circle with the divans, facing Tate. "Merlin's ghost, you didn't invite that simpering twat again, did you?"

Lucius looked offended. "I didn't invite Lockhart! As I recall, you dragged him along last time. Your good mate, isn't he?" He sniggered to himself.

"That's a low blow even for you, Malfoy." Severus thrust his chin in Tate's direction. "And I was talking to him."

"Oh, me? No, no, Gilderoy won't be joining us today…" His eyes turned to saucers as the door swung open again.

"My ears were burning! I just knew you'd be talking about me." A smiling Gilderoy flipped the door closed and pranced across the room. He gave a longing sigh as he contemplated the spot beside Severus, then daintily seated himself on the lone chair and crossed his legs.

"What. The. Bloody. Hell. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Snape ground out between clenched teeth.

"I remembered what time the appointment was!" answered Lockhart excitedly. "Isn't that wonderful? I remembered."

Blank stare. "And?"

"And so here I am, right on time." Lockhart shook back his hair and beamed. "I barely made it, what with my shampoo routine, and—"

"This is not your appointment time, it's mine!" Severus barked with a glower.

Gilderoy leaned forward, letting just enough concern show that it didn't furrow his brow. No point in risking wrinkles, after all. "And I'm here for you." He reached out a hand to touch Severus on the knee, stopped in mid-air, and reversed. He tapped his own knee a few times while repeating, "For you." Maybe Severus would be in a better mood if he offered him the secret hair regime he used to make his own tresses so gorgeous. Lucius would certainly pay a hefty price for it…although he did have superb hair already, shiny and soft—to look at, of course. Gilderoy hadn't dared caress it, despite strong temptation. Now he'd forgotten what they were talking about.

"Isn't that stirring, Severus?" Lucius asked, smiling sardonically. "To have such a good friend."

"Yes, I often wish I had a good friend," Snape retorted.

Tate cleared his throat and said perkily, "Gentlemen, I have a special surprise for you both."

As one Lucius and Severus went for their wands; remembering them missing, they exchanged terrified glances. What horror had this muggle thrust upon them now? Gilderoy clapped his hands and bounced in his seat.

"Unless it's a Get-Out-Of-Asinine-Session-Free card, I'll pass," said Severus tightly.

Lucius numbly nodded along.

Tate chuckled. "Severus, you do have such dry humour."

Snape and Malfoy exchanged more looks, now confused as well as apprehensive.

Lucius offered, "Humour? Snape wouldn't know a joke if it bit him in the arse."

This time Severus nodded along. Then realizing the remark might be construed as insulting, he scowled and gave a tart, "Thank you, Lucius. Your support, as always, remains nonexistent."

Lucius blinked a few times. "That doesn't sound like much of a compliment."

"Bravo. I was beginning to think I'd have to explain it to you."

"I understood it," Gilderoy interjected eagerly. "That's why Severus and I are so close, we understand one another."

"Shut up, Lockhart," Lucius said smoothly. Then tilting up his perfect aquiline nose to Severus, "I was just being candid. I call that being supportive."

Tate shuffled through his notes. "Before our guest arrives, I'd like to recap our last session."

Heaving a tired sigh, Lucius moaned, "Must we?"

"Oh, goody!" squealed Gilderoy.

Reading aloud from his notes, Tate said, "'Gilderoy was bullied by pixies.'"

"I was, it was dreadful," Lockhart confirmed, nodding sagely.

"Like you even remember!" Snape shot back.

Tate said, "We never did establish who the pixies are—I mean, you two share your own cult language that leaves me in the dark."

Snape snorted. "At the risk of sounding sarcastic, a panel of magnified sunbeams would leave you in the dark, doctor."

Lucius leaned in toward Severus, grinning. Speaking as if Tate couldn't hear him, he said, "That came across beautifully sarcastic. Excellent pitch and pacing."

"Thank you," Severus acknowledged with a slight sneer. "I was afraid I may have been too subtle for certain persons."

"It probably did go over his head," Lucius agreed. "Nonetheless, I'm being supportive. See?"

Tate went on blithely, "So, who are the pixies? A street gang?"

At this even Gilderoy looked puzzled. He had a vague recollection of seeing a picture of pixies at St. Mungo's—and honestly, did he look the type to hang out with street gangs? His clothing set him apart from common riff-raff, let alone his hair, his creamy complexion, his—

"Street. Gang?" repeated Severus in a slow deadpan voice, flabbergasted at the stupidity of this muggle, and of the Ministry which had sent them to him for 'therapy'. "They are annoying little creatures that thrive on irritating the shit out of people. I'm experiencing a flash of déjà vu."

Lucius joined in with, "You'd be surprised what a pixie can do to an idiot like Lockhart, or to a muggle. Although honestly there's little difference. I think Lockhart may be a squib."

"I most certainly am not!" Gilderoy huffed, crossing his arms. He wasn't sure what a squib was, but since Lucius was being unkind, it couldn't possibly be anything good.

Lucius thinks Gilderoy is a squid. Unsure of meaning. He and Severus often refer to people as animals, perhaps in an attempt to dehumanize them.

"Severus, are you and Gilderoy still engaging in illegal street fighting?" Tate asked, pursing his lips.

"Street fighting?" Gilderoy exclaimed. "I don't think so! My face is too exquisite for that." He'd like to mention that Lucius was too fine for that as well, but…well, Lucius was mean. He'd make something bad out of it.

Unable to ascertain what the hateful eye-daggers shooting his way meant, Tate simply jotted it down on his pad. "How are things in the coven?"

Another murderous glare that almost caught him on fire.

"I am not in a coven," clipped Severus.

"Oh, I get it," said Tate, smiling and winking. "Hush, hush. You don't want people to know about you and Gilderoy."

Lucius burst into laughter. "Now you're seeing Gilderoy behind my back, Severus? Are you ashamed?" He laughed so hard he began to choke on his saliva.

Lucius and Severus in love triangle with Gilderoy? Tate scribbled, while Lucius retched and coughed between bursts of merriment. It was good to hear him laugh, he truly was making progress.

"I'm only ashamed that I didn't strangle him to death and throw his lifeless carcass to the giant squid when I had the chance," Snape said. If he were able, he might have blushed.

"Severus, how could you say such a thing?" Lockhart drew a hand to his heart, looking wounded.

There was that squid reference again! Tate hurriedly jotted, Severus exhibiting homicidal tendencies…not for the first time. "Now, Severus, murder is never the answer."

"Strongly disagree."

"With trained help, you and Gilderoy can learn to live peacefully in a loving relationship," Tate insisted.

Ignoring Malfoy's raucous howls of laughter, Severus said in a steely tone, "I'd sooner pry open my ribcage and scoop out my lungs with a spoon than to have a relationship with Lockhart."

Gilderoy was now sobbing openly.

Possibly suicidal. Must watch! "Even when people hurt us, we shouldn't close ourselves off."

Severus searched about for something to throw at the dimwit. Finding nothing in reach, he snarled, "Lockhart didn't hurt me, you wretched fool! We do not have, nor have we ever had, a relationship. He is as delusional as you, and listening to his prattling as gospel sinks you to an even lower level than that from which you began." There, that ought to set the pillock straight! He crossed his arms and began to sit back, remembered he had no chairback to lean on, and sat stiffly gloating over his triumph.

"O…kay," said Tate, unfazed. "Perhaps my surprise will cheer you up."

Snape's and Malfoy's hearts skipped a beat. Severus answered, "Dubious, at best."

Tate positively glowed with excitement. "All along I thought the potter was a pot maker, but it turns out he's a Potter." The very name made the wizards flinch and their eyes widen. Tate blissfully went on, "You felt responsible for the deaths of his family, so I've arranged for Harry Potter to sit in on our session."

The wizards bolted upright, ready to flee for the door when suddenly it opened up and a head with spiky black hair poked in. "Is this the right—okay, yeah, it must be the right place. The Ministry sent me here." Pointedly to Snape and Malfoy he said, "To 'aid in your recovery'."

"I'll pass, thank you," said Lucius primly.

"Do not even approach me, Potter," said Severus.

Gilderoy glanced at the door, sniffled, and dried his eyes with a lacy handkerchief. He knew that face. Why?

Tate jumped up, took Harry's hand, and pumped it up and down. "Harry Potter, how wonderful to meet you. I'm Dr. Tate." He frowned slightly. What was it about this short, skinny bloke that frightened the other men?

"And so the fawning over the Golden Brat continues," Severus sniped, shaking his head and muttering. "Even muggles join the saviour's bandwagon." His eyes rolled so far into his head he became a tad faint and almost tipped over.

"Potter may have been asked, but what is he doing here?" asked Lucius, wrinkling his nose as he pointed at the doorway.

Severus turned his head, then gave a supreme expression of disgust. "Moron support, I'd wager."

"Come in, come in. You must be Run Wecslen," said Tate, reading from his notes.

"Ron Weasley," said the redhead.

"Close enough. Come sit down, gentlemen."

"Um…where?" asked Harry.

"Silly me!" said Tate. He went into the waiting room and returned carrying a chair, which he plopped down beside Gilderoy. Harry flopped into it.

Ron stood looking forlornly from one divan to the next. Lucius deliberately lay back down on his, while Snape cast such a venomous dare-you-to-try-it sneer that Ron backed off and squeezed onto the hard-backed chair with Harry, perched side by side, one foot of each young man braced on the floor to keep them from spilling off.

"Isn't this comfy?" asked Tate cheerily. "Harry, why don't you tell us why you're here?"

Rolling his eyes, Lucius drawled, "I believe he already said the Ministry sent him." Honestly, did this muggle possess no retentive capability? Perhaps he was deaf. It would account for the way he misconstrued so much of what was said. He'd have to make sure to speak loudly and enunciate clearly. Well, more clearly than usual, which with his training in diction was pretty darned clear.

"Yeah, I did say that," Harry said, very much hating to agree with Malfoy. "Just out of curiosity, why is Lockhart here?"

So this Potter knew who he was! Gilderoy gave a huge, self-satisfied grin.

"Because he's a meddling fool, and God forbid they afflict us with solely muggle 'therapy', designed to drive us mad—" said Severus.

"Not a far drive," Ron snickered.

"—now they compound the misery by sending the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die to spread his arrogance around the non-wizarding world," Severus finished with a hiss.

"Don't forget they also sent his lackey," added Lucius, projecting his voice forcefully.

"You'd know all about being a lackey, wouldn't you, Malfoy?" asked Harry nastily.

"Shut your mouth, you filthy halfbreed!" screamed Lucius, sitting up. Then he turned to Severus and said in a calm tone, "No offense."

"None taken," Severus replied. Sadly, he knew Lucius well enough to understand he was completely serious, despite his proclivity for using nasty epithets.

Lucius still using skinhead language. "Mr. Malfoy, we don't use such phrases here," Tate began.

"It's Lucius!" shouted Malfoy in aggravation. "No, wait! No, it isn't!" Damn that muggle! Lucius continued in a rabid tone to Harry, "Were you not such a self-important, smug little prat, you'd realize the enormous difference between being a Death Eater and trying to better the world, and whatever…this…is." He gesticulated at Ron and Harry balanced precariously on the chair.

Now Gilderoy recollected. He'd been taught at St. Mungo's about the new arrival. This Potter was the saviour of the wizarding world! Perhaps that's why Severus mentioned that earlier…. Nonetheless, he had the strangest feeling that he and Potter had met before. Were they friends, too? It would be so nice to be mates with such an important person.

Tate scratched his head. Being a Death Eater—animal torturer—was Lucius' idea of bettering the world? He had much deeper problems than Tate had previously imagined. This might conceivably add years to his treatment.

Severus yawned. "Save it, Lucius. I tried for years to pound some sense into that thick skull. It's hopeless."

Harry rounded on him. "You have no right to talk. You hated me from the first because you hated my father—"

"For excellent cause."

"—so you never even tried to get to know me!"

"Because you made my life hell in every way imaginable, and because my sincerest ambition in life is to befriend the spawn of my mortal enemy," growled Severus. "Yes, perfectly logical."

Tate perked up. "Harry's parents are your enemies?"

"Only his father—" Severus began.

"Not anymore," Lucius interrupted. "He got them killed. One might say assassinated."

Gilderoy gasped. "How can that be? My dear friend, Severus, how could you?"

Severus hired assassin to kill Harry's parents.

"Shut it, Lockhart," Snape said. "And thank you, Lucius, I didn't feel guilty enough. You always know when to butt in and make things all better."

"You're very welcome. I try." Lucius smiled serenely and clasped his hands over his chest as he lay. "It's in my nature to be helpful, you know. You can ask anyone—Narcissa, Draco. Actually, that's pretty much it. The rest are dead or in—"

"I was being sarcastic!" Snape shouted, his face beet red from irritation.

"Well, that's just hurtful," Lucius responded, closing his eyes and turning his head away.

"He does that a lot," said Lockhart in commiseration to Lucius. "But inside he's soft as a teddy bear. It's a defense mechanism."

Tata took the opportunity to say, "That is so true, Gilderoy. Guilt is a reasonable, healthy emotion in cases like this." He truly never thought he'd use the words 'healthy' and 'emotion' in the same sentence regarding Severus. Maybe there was a chance of reform, of recovery from the gloom of his miserable life!

"Teddy bear my arse!" Severus snapped. To Potter or Malfoy, perhaps both, he said, "It was the prophecy. How was I to know what it meant, or that the dark lord would go on a murderous spree?"

"Um…because he was freaking Voldemort?" exclaimed Harry.

"Hindsight is 20/20," Severus retorted. "That means it's easy to see—"

"I know what it means," Harry snarled.

Ron nudged him in the side. "What does it mean?"

Mumbling in an embarrassed, low voice, Harry answered, "It's easy to see what you should've done when you look back on your actions, but at the time it's not that simple."

"Ah." Ron twisted his mouth and scrunching up his face in thought. "Doesn't that kind of make Snape—I don't know—less at fault?"

Harry wriggled his rear end enough to push Ron off the side of the chair, and he landed on the floor, barely catching himself with one hand. "Maybe you should wait outside for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I think I can handle them." He waved off Ron, who got up and flounced out.

"Hey, Weasel! Take this poof with you!" Lucius called, gesturing at Gilderoy.

"Oh, I'm fine here, thanks," Gilderoy said, winking at him.

"Building on my lesser culpability, Potter," said Severus, "Weasley is—for once in his pitiful life—right. It's not like I wanted Lily to die."

"But it was okay if me and my dad were murdered?" argued Harry.

The only response was a slow blink.

"How do you feel about that, Severus?" asked Tate.

Long, uncomfortable pause, then Snape replied, "Feel about what?"

"Did you wish for Harry and his father to die?"

"I'm sure he felt wretched, isn't that right?" interrupted Lockhart, who'd grown bored with not being the topic of conversation and had pulled a large hand mirror from his robe pocket. He was busily inspecting his teeth as he spoke. "Did it hurt much to be murdered, Harry?"

"Butt out, Lockhart!" Severus muttered several muggle swear words under his breath, then gave an infinitesimal shrug. "If we're being brutally honest, I didn't care. James Potter was a bully who deserved what he got; I had no thought one way or the other about the whelp."

"That's not true, Severus," Lucius interjected. No matter if Snape was going to be an obnoxious bastard, he was still Lucius' best friend and he was going to help him out. "You know very well the dark lord had his mind set. If you asked for the baby's life, he'd have likely killed you as well."

Lucius' father killed Potter family and threatened Severus. Now they were getting somewhere!

"I'm well aware of that," Snape shot back. Damn it, now Lucius was making him look… concerned …in front of Potter! Making it look like he had feelings. It was nauseating! What was the matter with him? "Can we please change the subject?"

"We're dealing with strong emotional matters, this is wonderful," Tate beamed. This Potter boy was turning out to be a huge asset in getting the men to open up!

"We all agree we could spend months on Severus' stunted emotions, but I have no demonstrative difficulties whatsoever, I don't know why I'm here," Lucius commented.

"How about trying to murder Ginny Weasley in the Chamber of Secrets?" offered Harry.

Gobsmacked, Tate hastily wrote, Lucius attempted murder. "Lucius, you tried to murder someone?"

At hearing 'Chamber of Secrets', Gilderoy stopped picking at the bit of lettuce in his teeth and perked up. Why was that familiar? He pulled a length of floss from his pocket to help him think while he vigorously defeated those terrible tooth decay monsters.

Lucius delivered a cross between a scoff and a snort of derision. "Why does everyone accuse me of that? It was an accident. You put one little cursed diary in a cauldron, and suddenly everyone's at your throat."

Tate, pen poised over the notebook, hesitated. 'Cursed diary in a cauldron'—was that another code phrase?

In an annoyed grumbled, Lucius went on, "Your dimwit mate Longbottom blew up cauldrons on a weekly basis and no one attacked him."

Harry friend of terrorists?

"You killed your teacher Quirrell with your bare hands, and you're hailed as a bloody saint!" Lucius finished, sitting back with a huff.

Harry slew teacher—or his rodent. This entire group had severe, dire issues. Tate felt himself inching away from the four of them.

"He was helping Voldemort," Potter argued. "And that's beside the point. You knew the diary would open the Chamber."

"Did you live in the Chamber?" asked Gilderoy, who'd set the mirror on his lap to finish flossing. "I want to say I remember it."

Enough was enough. Severus curled his lip in derisive amusement as he said calmly, "Gilderoy, did you know you've got a bald spot on the back of your skull?"

"What? No, that's not—not possible—" Both hands flew to his head, feverishly inspecting.

"Yes, just there." Snape pointed.

Uttering a low whine that rapidly evolved into a high-pitched scream, Gilderoy bolted from the room, both hands over his head, the mirror clattering to the floor behind him. They all listened in silence as his wails faded down the corridor and finally ceased altogether.

Looking oddly smug for a man who refused to show any sentiment except anger, Severus continued, "Now that we've one less nuisance, I'll ask you, Potter. Have you never done anything enormously stupid? Off the top if my head I could name several times. Like crashing into the Whomping Willow, or not telling anyone about Pettigrew in the castle, or sending your godwolf to his death—"

"Don't you talk about him!"

"Oh, we're on the Department of Mysteries now, are we?" asked Lucius, relieved to have the Chamber of Secrets behind him for the moment. "I do blame you for that, Severus, for sending me to Azkaban."

There it was again, Ask-a-ban! "What did you find at Ask-a-ban, Lucius?" asked Tate. Everyone ignored him.

"How is that my fault?" asked Snape.

"I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you," Lucius said smoothly. "You're the word wizard, surely you grasp the difference."

"Technically, it is his fault," said Harry, smirking in a sinister way. "He was a member of the Order, he called them to go there. So in big part your arrest was his fault."

Severus betrayed Lucius. That explained sooooo much. They'd need to explore that later.

"I was trying to protect you, Potter!" Severus snarled. "If you weren't always up to mischief, getting into trouble, none of this would have happened. I should've poisoned you when I had the chance!"

"You do realize you'd have gone to Azkaban," Lucius said. "And wouldn't it conflict with your vow to that manipulative bastard Dumbledore?"

"Of course. Still, it might have been more pleasant than babysitting the brat."

"What is Azkaban?" demanded Tate loudly.

All three looked at him, then Harry squinted darkly and said, "The wizard's prison. Malfoy knows all about that. Do you miss it, Lucy-Wucy?"

Lucius spent time in prison—and Severus helped send him there! If he hadn't been hearing it himself, Tate never would have believed it. Sure, Malfoy was obnoxious and cold, but—oh, maybe it had to do with that attempted murder from earlier. There was so much information he couldn't keep it straight.

"You little shit! If you'd just given me the bloody prophecy instead of fighting, no one would have gone to Azkaban or been hurt—including your sainted Sirius," Lucius shouted.

"Serious what?" asked Tate.

"Black," said Harry.

Serious Black…Black Serious? "I don't know what that means." Before anyone had the chance to start up the fight again, Tate said, "Let's all calm down, take some deep breaths. You've made a lot of headway today."

"Opened a lot of old wounds, you mean," Lucius sniped.

"Lucius, Severus, why don't you lie down? We all need to settle down."

While Severus steadfastly glared, Lucius slid down onto the divan, taking deep breaths. It did seem to help, though he wasn't about to tell that ponce of a 'doctor'. Tate picked up a remote control beside his chair and turned on the newly-installed massage function for the couches. They began to hum, and large rollers under the upholstery began moving slowly from top to bottom in a circular fashion, easing over Lucius' shoulders, back, and legs. It felt divine! Snape, who refused to be prone in this hellhole of an office, felt the rollers caressing his bum and jumped upright, horrified.

"Merlin's trousers, what is in there? An animal?" He stomped it with his booted foot.

"Severus, no, it's only a massager," said Tate. Which only made Snape pound more furiously with his boot.

"Probably just dark magic," Lucius said, letting himself relax into it. Who ever said dark magic was bad for you? This was positively heavenly! Ah, yes, that tense rump cheek was starting to loosen up. He should learn how to curse his own furniture this way.

"And where is this dark magic coming from?" asked Severus, eyebrows quirked so high they almost deserted his face. He didn't like the way Lucius had suddenly become tranquil, it wasn't natural. His head swiveled toward Harry. "You're doing this deviltry, you little hypocrite." He changed his voice to a high-pitched sing-song. "We don't use dark magic, it's baaaaaaad."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Harry, stunned to see his ex-professor unnerved and actually imitating…well, someone.

Snape pointed at him his finger waggling. "I always knew there was something off about you, but your beloved Dumbledore wouldn't let me defend myself against you."

"Dumbledore?" asked Tate, pen poised over paper.

"For the love of God, you fool, we've discussed this on numerous occasions!" Severus shrieked. "Dumbledore, the megalomaniac I worked for who made me babysit Potter—oh, why do I bother!"

"Severus, you really ought to lie down and give this a try," Lucius said mildly.

"And now you've got my best friend under your thrall!" Severus ranted. "Damn the Ministry, I won't stand for this. I'm out of here." Snape swished his cloak about himself and stormed out, pausing at the door. "Lucius, are you coming?"

Malfoy hesitated. It felt so good, his body was becoming one with the universe, he was melting. Perhaps a few more minutes to think about it.

"Lucius, our comrades were right. Potter is aiming to take the dark lord's place! He's practicing on us!" No reaction. He stamped his foot. "I'll tell Narcissa!"

That did it. The rainbows and warm, sweet embraces of the dark magic suddenly weren't so much fun anymore. Scowling, Lucius sat up. "Fine. Killjoy." He jerked himself to a standing position and strolled to the door, looking back at Harry and saying quietly, "I'll pay you for the spell to do that to my couch." Then he ducked out.

Severus looked back at Harry to say, "Don't try any of your tricks on me. Outside this office I have protection, and my wand would make short work of you in a most painful way." He whirled and marched off, not even enjoying the dramatic billows of his robes.

Severus threatening to molest Harry. Yes, this entire group needed perhaps more help than Tate was capable of giving. Than anyone, anywhere was capable of giving.

Left alone with Tate, Harry squirmed a bit. "I knew Snape was suspicious and shifty, but do they always act so neurotic?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it," Dr. Tate said, nodding profusely. "Why don't you come lie down. We still have some time left…I'd like to explore the subject of your terrorist leanings—which probably ties right in to your squirrel killing."