Severus knew that he was due for his session with Joseph during the hour before lunch, but he didn't get out of bed.

He lay thinking instead, how he hadn't seen Potter since that outburst a half hour or so ago, when Potter had told him it was no wonder nobody wanted to spend any time with him. No wonder. Of course it was no wonder - look at the way that Auror had treated him. Even locked up, cracked-up, crazy, batty, insane Aurors thought Severus Snape was beneath them. What a load of dragon dung. But the Auror's words were like poison anyway, and Potter's statement had brought back that hateful confrontation from the previous day. It filled Severus with fury, and then nothingness. Anger was always a gateway to despair, and now he felt like a shell of what he once had been. Nothing but emptiness inside, like a cup that should have been full but somehow couldn't hold any water, no matter how much it tried. Something was just wrong with him, and there was no escaping it, no leaving it behind. He was defective, and Potter knew it.

Later, Snape, traitor scum. The Auror knows too he knows - no escape he's here too his words can't leave ...

Sticks and stones, stones and sticks, broken bones and bloody fists - and aren't you a hypocrite (Hypocrite!) telling Potter he was an idiot for going to poetry club well listen to you look at that book on your table whose book is that whose it's yours you borrowed it and who wrote it? A bloody poet remember? Robert Service - ran away to France to be a poet what was he running from why was he running and then what happened? Got caught up in a war, running from wherever, hoping for something better, then gone all gone out into a battle into blood into death into loss and burden and horror -

Where am I going where are you running from Snape what battle have you run into where have you landed yourself- where, Traitor? Where have your cursed feet taken you? LOOK!

The ceiling stared at him, plain and unfamiliar. He was late to his appointment, and the ceiling hated him for it

It wasn't until ten after one that the chipper Trainee Healer came to get him. Severus had since learned that the boy's name was Kevin. He was probably in his twenties, and overall, an enigma. Severus didn't get Kevin. He didn't get how someone could smile so much when surrounded by people that were most often hurling insults at him. After all, the Trainee Healers got the fun task of handing out medication and running to get people if they decided to play truant, like Severus. Severus had caught wind that one of the female Trainee Healers had been reduced to tears the other day when she had been sent to coax one of the women out of their room to breakfast. Severus couldn't imagine going through all that schooling just to find out that you couldn't take the daily ins and outs of the job.

"Severus, Healer Kyte is waiting in his office," said Kevin amicably.

"And?"

"You have an appointment with him," said Kevin. "It started a few minutes ago."

"Really? Studied what, five years to figure that out?"

"Six, actually," replied Kevin, looking amused as Severus glowered at him from where he was lying in bed.

"Well done, now let's see if your fancy education taught you how to find the door, shall we?" Severus said, crossing his arms.

"Hmm," Kevin said. "You seem upset."

"Piss off," Severus said wearily. "I'm not playing that stupid ‘how do you feel' game."

He turned onto his side and staring blankly at the dull, institutionalized wall (cursed feet), the fight having left him as quickly as it came.

"You know, pretty much every person here is going through a rough time, even some of the workers," Kevin said, sitting in a chair by Severus' bed. "You look like you're in the same boat right now."

Severus stared, surprised at the persistence. He didn't answer.

"Is there any way I can help?"

"Probably not," said Severus, scoffing. "Besides leaving me alone, that is."

"I could do that ..." said Kevin thoughtfully, "but you know, people have asked me to go before, and I've obeyed their wishes on some occasions. But the people that let me bring them to their appointments, even if they didn't want to at first, they were glad they went. The ones that stayed in their room never seemed any happier for it."

Severus didn't bother to reply.

"Can I fix the blinds for you?"

"Erm, okay," muttered Severus, watching as Kevin got up and tapped the blinds with his wand, mending the tear.

Kevin came back and sank down into the chair.

"Better?"

"Sure." Severus paused, staring at the waving grasses, serene and peaceful from where they peeked through the gap in the blinds (Are those your fields, France?). "I still hate that window, though."

"You hate the window?"

"Yes, I bloody hate it."

"Yeah, it does look pretty fake, at least to me."

"Fake," Severus said, feeling his chest tighten. Something snapped inside him, and his voice rose in volume. "Don't get me started on how fake it looks! They put these stupid windows in here and expect everyone to stare out at a perfect, stupid world with ridiculous flowers and trees all waving in some imaginary breeze that you can never even feel because you're locked up!"

"It's frustrating, isn't it?"

"Exactly. And you know what the worst part is?"

"What?" Kevin asked, leaning forward slightly.

Severus sat up, gritting his teeth in such a way that the words were difficult to get out. "It isn't real! Just like everything good in the world. You go after it, thinking it's there, that it's just within reach and as ... as soon as you're almost there, or get a glimpse of something almost good, some bastard comes around and ruins it!"

"Who ruins it?"

"Everyone!" Severus said louder than necessary. He clenched his fists, his apathy replaced by a feeling that his chest was an engine driving him forward, all fire and steam and roaring. "There I was, just minding my own business, trying to decide where to hang a picture Daisy gave me and some arse of an Auror decided he'd go after me and try and start a fight! I didn't say a damned word to provoke him and he just thought he'd push me around, all because he thinks I really am a Death Eater. Ignoring the fact that Dumbledore's backed me up in the truth, which is that I've been spying for the good side and actually trying to stop the effing Dark Lord from murdering that Auror's ungrateful arse and everyone else's! That is, until I almost got killed as a little thank you for my efforts, courtesy of the Dark Lord!

"How long do I have to put up with bastards like those guys? He's probably just sour because he's stuck here too and can't do anything about it! The damned Dark Lord and that bloody Auror - just like the bleeding Marauders and their Saintly crusade to rid Hogwarts of nasty Slytherins who weren't up to snuff to meet their high moral standards. The whole world is fucked, I tell you, straight up fucked, if that's how people decide to treat everyone. I mean, I can understand it from the Dark Lord's perspective, because I did make him look like an outright idiot by infiltrating his organization successfully for so many years - and that is no easy feat, let me tell you - but I am on the same side as that Auror! So what's his problem? Is that what I get for trying to do something good? Because if that's how people repay me, I might as well just quit fucking breathing right now."

Severus, chest heaving, fell silent. He couldn't believe how much he'd said. He felt a surge of anger at himself for letting himself be tricked into the Assistant Healer's little game. He'd run straight into the trap. Damn these feet!

"I wish people could be kinder to each other," said Kevin, eyes downcast. "But it doesn't seem to go that way, does it?"

"No," said Severus sharply, feeling his energy drain, sinking back on the bed. "People never pay attention to others. They just ... don't care."

"What about Healer Kyte - Joseph? Surely everyone can't be that bad."

"Joseph ... what about him, "Severus said dully. "Maybe he cares. I don't know. Isn't it his job to care?"

"Maybe," said Kevin. "But, does that make it any less genuine? He probably got into healing for a reason. You have to want to help others to consider doing this kind of job.

"I - I don't know. Maybe he just got into healing for the money."

"Why don't you ask him why he does what he does," Kevin suggested. "You'll know if it's a genuine answer. I imagine you've gotten really good at reading people if you were a spy for so long."

"Yeah, I have," Severus said, surprised, examining the wall but not really seeing it. "I suppose I could ask him."

"You've still got forty-five minutes left with him. Want to go now?"

Severus thought for a moment, his eyes watching the breeze blow through the magic trees out the window. He shrugged, but nodded, allowing Kevin to lead the way. It was either that or stare at that stupid window, anyway.

Kevin dropped him off in front of Joseph's door, parting with a goodbye and an assurance that he was going to go and have a word with the Auror Severus spoke of. There was only one in the ward, anyway. Severus, used to this sort of assurance, ignored it, knowing nothing would come of it.

For the first five minutes that he was in Joseph's office Severus stared blankly at the wall with his arms crossed, too pissed off to say anything. Joseph was patient. Too patient. He sat there, chewing his bubble-gum like he tended to do from time to time. At least he had the damned good sense not to snap it. Severus might have had to kill him if he did that and, despite the fact that they weren't at Hogwarts, there was no doubt he would have committed said murder while shouting that he was taking points from whatever house Joseph came from (probably Hufflepuff, the damned do-gooder). Joseph had asked a few questions already, despite the silence. Same mumbo jumbo that Kevin had been saying. Severus was pretty sure they used the same technique from some stupid book somewhere. Now, Joseph seemed to be waiting for Severus to speak, and had thus fallen silent.

"You're doing this for the money, aren't you?" Severus barked at last, shooting a glare at Joseph. "That's why you've gotten all quiet, right? You don't care. You're paid by the hour round here. It doesn't matter if I talk. Less work for you, right?"

"So, what you're saying, Severus, is that you're worried I don't really care," he said placidly, chewing on his bubble-gum, resting his hands on his leg, which was crossed over the other.

"You know damn well what I'm asking," said Severus. "Do you do this for the money, or don't you?"

Joseph paused in chewing, rubbing his slightly stubbled chin.

"I do need a job so I can afford to live," he said, "but I could have picked any profession to do that. I picked healing for more than just a salary."

"What did you pick healing for?"

"I love the way the brain works," said Joseph so automatically that Severus was inclined to believe him. "There's a sort of beauty in the mind, flaws and all. You see, while every person thinks differently there are things that are all the same. Everyone is sort of broken in their own way, and it's a pity people have to hide it, because the human mind is more alike than people would like to admit. I suppose I wanted to make a difference. Make people feel like they don't have to hide their flaws. Not exactly the most radical of answers, I know, but those are my reasons for doing this job, and I like it very much."

Severus narrowed his eyes, and Joseph stared calmly back.

"I'm not just a pay check for you?"

"No. You are a person. Someone who needs to shuffle a few pieces for the picture to become whole again. Hopefully through working together, we can fix the puzzle. "

"People don't treat me like a person," Severus said, his words coming out before he could stop them. Joseph's reasoning had seemed so strangely full of hope and innocence that he'd been take off guard. For a moment it had reminded him of Lily and her belief that people weren't so different, that Gryffindors and Slytherins were silly to be so caught up in rivalry. She'd always said that they were more alike than different. Maybe they were. Lily usually was right.

"How do people treat you like you aren't a person?" Joseph asked. "Has something happened recently?"

Severus picked at a thread on the armchair, unravelling it slightly to see if Joseph would say anything or make him stop. He didn't say a word, so the only thing to do was answer the question.

"One of the other patients ..." - was mean to me. Wow, because that sounds mature - "well, he's an Auror. And he thinks I'm ... evil or something. That I'm really not on the side of the light. He's wrong, but he wouldn't listen. Nobody listens. They just judge. He pushed me around and ... I ... I just took it! Just sat there and took it! The guy doesn't even know me, he's only heard what the papers say or what other people say, so how could he just ... just do that? He knocked me against a wall because he thought I was just some evil bastard, without even bothering to check first if I was! But they always do that, even when I was a kid, just because I've never been what they think is normal."

"Another patient assaulted you?" Joseph said with alarm once Severus reached the end of his train of thought.

"Yeah, it's no big deal, it happens all the -"

"No, Severus, it is a big deal," Joseph said firmly. "Listen to me - you don't have to put up with that. I'm going to talk to the staff on the ward, and have a word with this Auror. I think I know who you're talking about. If it happens again, let me know. You are not deserving of that kind of treatment."

Severus fell silent. He looked at his feet, which suddenly seemed blurry. He swallowed thickly, staring at the floor but not seeing. Joseph handed him the tissue box, and he took one numbly. Joseph seemed to be telling the truth, so maybe Kevin was actually going to have a word with the Auror too.

"Has anyone ever told you that you don't deserve to be treated that way?"

"No. Not really. Sort of. A friend of mine in school once. Kids used to ... used to push me around there too."

"What was that like?"

Severus looked up finally.

"Bloody horrible," he said with a bitter laugh. "That stupid gang of Gryffindors ... they called themselves the Marauders. James Potter, Sirius Black, that crowd. Bunch of pricks, more like. Used to tie me up and shove me in broom cupboards, send trip jinxes after me, you know, just school stuff."

"But it didn't seem like just school stuff, did it?"

"No."

"So then why do you call it ‘just school stuff'?"

Severus let out a deep breath and sunk back into the chair, letting his posture slide somewhat.

"That's what teachers said," he mumbled. "Normal school antics. Said they'd talk to Potter and Black. Give them detention. That never worked. Half the time Professors didn't even do that. Just ‘ten points from Gryffindor' and that was that."

"And what did that feel like?"

"Like I was just a worthless piece of ... well, they obviously liked Potter and Black more than me. Everyone did. Just because I was the black sheep and knew how to do curses and things. Look, I know they were right that I was into dark stuff then, I was. I just didn't know what else to do. Figured I'd learn all those curses in case I needed it, I mean, my fath - well, I just thought, better safe than sorry, right? You can only protect yourself so much with lighter curses."

"You were about to say something about your father."

"Eh, what about him. He was a prick."

"I think it's important. You've said before, he wasn't the safest person to be around."

"Safe. Hell no."

"So the dark curses you learned, was he part of the reason you learned how to do them?"

Severus felt his spine stiffen again, and he could feel the blood drain out of his face. His eyes were going blurry again, but he wiped at them roughly with his sleeve. Finally, he nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"Did you do it to feel safe?"

Severus shrugged, but the answer was a clear yes. He was silent a moment, but finally, he couldn't take it any longer and the words poured out like whisky, tasting of fire and smoke, "And those d-damned blood M-Marauders called me EVIL because of it. EVIL! BECAUSE I HAD TO STOP MY FATHER FROM BEATING THE SHIT OUT ME EVERY OTHER NIGHT! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO? WHAT WAS ... what was I supposed to ... And the Professors ... they just ... they acted like I deserved it." His voice was shaking almost too badly now to speak, but Severus kept going anyway. "Professor D-Dumbledore j-just ... just told me not to use d-dark magic but he never asked why I felt I had to use it in the first p-p-place! If he'd just stopped the M-Marauders ... m-maybe I wouldn't have had to. Why did he think I learned that anyway? Did he think I just got a kick out of it? That I made up d-dark spells for f-fun? Did he think I had just gotten into fights w-with the neighbourhood boys when I came back to school with a broken n-nose and black eye? Did he ... did he? How come he never wondered, how c-come none of the Professors ever wondered?"

"So, your father hit you?"

Severus felt his mouth fill with bitterness as he wiped his eyes, slouching back into the armchair and scowling.

"Yes," he said sharply. "And I wanted to curse him into a million pieces, I did, but my mother always said not to, that the Ministry would know and I'd be thrown into some juvenile centre for good. But she never threw a spell at him. She couldn't, her magic got weak every time she was around him, and even though she couldn't curse him she told me never to try it. Just like Dumbledore - don't use bad spells, Severus, don't get into trouble, just wait for one of us to save you Severus! Only NOBODY EVER DID."

Severus crossed his arms tightly.

"Nobody ever bloody well bothered," he finished, feeling his bones sink down into the chair like it was a grave, exhaustion catching up to him.

"Hmm, that was a difficult situation, I bet," Joseph said, looking sad. "Did you ever tell any of your Professors what it was like at home?"

Severus let out a half-hearted scoff, picking at the fabric on the armchair. "They couldn't stop kids from going after me, remember? Maybe they meant to, but whatever they did didn't work. How could they have stopped my father then? Or gotten me away from there?"

"So you didn't tell anyone?"

"No. Well. Not exactly."

"Tell me what you mean by saying that."

"I ... well, my father didn't really start getting ... physically violent toward me until the summer after first year," Severus said, letting the words come out but remaining distant from them, his compartmentalized mind so suited for occlumency aiding him in staying detached. "Before then it was just the usual stuff, you know? The swats to the behind if you weren't careful, just normal things. It was mostly ... mostly Mum he went after though, before that. But when I came home the summer after my first year ... I don't know, maybe I got a smart mouth, or something, maybe he was worried I'd tell someone what he did to Mum ... but when he drank he'd start going after ... after me. So ... I guess I was ... scared to go home after my second year. I knew what was waiting for me. My mother," - he scoffed - "was useless. She couldn't protect me. So, my head of house, Horace Slughorn the posh bastard, I went to him. Kind of."

"What did you tell him?"

"Went into his office, a few days before we left for home after second year. My best friend, Lily, she could tell something was on my mind. She knew things had gotten worse, not that she knew how worse. I didn't want to tell her because I knew she would freak out and go straight to Dumbledore, who had done nothing to fix anything for me in the past. Well, he tried with all the bullies, I think, but it never worked. He had too much of a soft spot for the Marauders, so how could he fix something bigger? Anyway, Slughorn. I went down to his office. He was my Head of House, so he should have ...

"I went to see him, and I asked if I could stay at Hogwarts for the summer. That I didn't want to go home because there wasn't much there for me anyway. Told him I could use the time to further my Potions projects. They did require a lot of research, anyway, so I wouldn't even need to brew and have supervision. I could just stay in the library most of the summer."

"What did he say?"

"Well, no, obviously," Severus said, slightly annoyed. "Bastard said no, and he didn't even ask why I wanted to stay at Hogwarts. I mean, it would have been pretty damned obvious I was scared! I was only just thirteen! As if a thirteen year old can hide that they're scared to go home - I ... I couldn't. Not then."

I couldn't ... not then. Couldn't hide my emotions you couldn't hide it then - occlumency do you remember it before then? Do you?

"So you were forced to go home, after dropping some heavy hints, you thought, to your Professor?"

Severus nodded, pulling out of his thoughts slightly.

"I didn't tell him outright, how could I? How can anyone? Even I've never met a student who could openly admit something bad going on at home without significant prompting."

"Do you think he should have been able to tell?"

"Hell yes!" Severus said, sitting up straight and leaning forward. "All the ... all the signs were there! For the love of - how could Slughorn have failed to have noticed my broken nose when I came back at the start of second year? And the bruises on my wrist? Lily noticed them, and I told her the nose was from a broom crash and my mother couldn't do healing magic - that last part was true enough. But I was always up front in that arse of a Professor's class, and always was talking to him about projects, I mean, potions was my best subject! He should have seen! That's a Professor's job!

"I would never expect a student to outright come and tell me, ‘Hey, Snape, my Dad's an abusive bastard and beats the shit out of me every summer, just thought you should know'. Come on, right? Nobody in their right mind would do that unless their hand was forced, or they had more bravery than any kid at their age. You have to look for it, open your bloody eyes! I can count at least five students, all abused in varying degrees, that I've spotted over my years as a Professor, and not a single one was direct enough to say what was going on. Some hinted, some didn't at all. But Slughorn should have bloody seen it. I was so damned obvious how could he not have?"

"To you, the signs would be clear," said Joseph. "Which is exactly what your students need from you now, to see those signs clearly. Slughorn probably didn't know what to look for like you do. It doesn't excuse him, of course."

"Well, he was an idiot, that's for sure, but Professors should be taught those things," said Severus. "Even now there's no training on that matter, just meetings called as needed. I'm always the one spotting kids from bad homes, even McGonagall has trouble telling ... my point is, even back when I went to school they should have had some sort of training for Professors who don't know what to look for. If bloody stupid Slughorn had just had someone sit down and tell him five signs to look for, he could have ... well ... I'm not sure if anyone could have saved me, but he at least could have made a start!"

"There should be training for that, you are right," said Joseph, eyebrows raised, looking surprised. "I didn't know that Hogwarts did not have a program offered in that area."

"Damn straight, there should be," Severus said, sinking back into the chair, exhausted.

"How about we work on that?" said Joseph. "Tell me what's wrong with the system, and we'll get some sort of program started. I know plenty of healers who would be willing to do a weekend seminar for Professors in spotting abuse. It would be just as relevant as it would have been when you were in school, and it might help you resolve some of this, feel like you're making a difference get some small amount of good out of your bad experiences."

"You'd actually ... arrange for something like that?" Severus said slowly, the gum-chewing Joseph before him suddenly taking on a whole new light.

"Absolutely - you're right, it is an area that needs awareness," Joseph said. "It's the nineties, for goodness sakes. We should have had something like this going years ago."

"Can I tell Dumbledore?" Severus asked, fighting not to betray his glee.

"Absolutely," Joseph said with a smile. "You make the proposal. From what I understand, he has been wanting a visit. If you want, you can even write up an outline for the program for me to look at. Anything you feel like contributing. If you want me to figure out all the details, that's fine too. But I think it's an idea we have to run with, considering."

The session ended, and Severus left feeling considerably lighter.

He couldn't wait to tell Dumbledore. About time somebody listened to what he was saying.

Take that, Albus you old fool! After that talk you'll be wishing you never brought me here.

Besides, it was about time Hogwarts had more people with their eyes open. Who knew how many Hogwarts students suffered every summer, and were passed over by the blind eyes of their Professors?