Title: Telefone Pastoral Care
Author: Crocky-Wock
Rating: PG
Summary: Snape is having strange fainting spells and mood swings. The symptoms of repressed memory, perhaps? McGonagall recommends phone counseling, but what happens when Snape begins to confront the memories he buried so long ago? And what will the counseler do with all these weird references to "The Dark Lord" and "Potions" and "Hogwarts"?
Psychological Telephone Counselling
Hello?
. . .
Is that the - PTC?
. . .
My name is Professor Severus Snape. Who are you?
. . .
What do you mean not supposed to tell?
. . .
. . .
Oh. Well. . . yes, I see. Anyway, I have got a problem and I would appreciate if you could give me some advice, I. . . What do you mean that's your job?
. . .
. . .
'Psychological Telephone Counselling'?!? Oooh. Hmpf. Oh, I see! . . . Wait till I get you, Minerva, you- what? I am not aggressive! What gives you that idea? I merely. . . I lost a bet.
. . .
No.
. . .
No.
. . .
No, my problem is that I need to talk to you for exactly half an hour. Do you mind?
. . .
I am not joking. If I don't, I will have to invite her for dinner, which is decidedly worse. So. . . can we just talk about the things you usually discuss with your. . . err. . . clients and leave it there?
. . .
. . .
Minerva. McGonagall.
. . .
No, I won't.
. . .
. . .
Aren't you going to ask me questions. . . or anything? What's this nonsense? There's nothing wrong with my life!
. . .
Well. . . she might think there is, but. . . she's wrong!
. . .
. . .
I am teaching. At Hogwarts.
. . .
Yes, a boarding school. And a damn good one, too.
. . .
What do you mean 'irascible'? Excuse me? You are talking to a grown-up person here.
. . .
. . .
Yes, that's right. I used to attend Hogwarts myself. Some twenty years ago. Why?
. . .
. . .
Uh.
. . .
. . .
Hm.
. . .
. . .
What good will it do if I tell you about it?
. . .
Though. . . come to think of it. . . I might as well.
. . .
. . .
Are you sure you possess the appropriate qualifications for this job? Is this your area of expertise?
. . .
It is most certainly my business whether you can give a professional statement on my inner thoughts or not. I have to cope with you for another. . . twenty-five minutes.
. . .
. . .
What is that supposed to mean?
. . .
. . .
Ridiculous!
. . .
. . .
I do not have to do this, you know. Come to think of it. . . it is just dinner, after all. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Yes.
. . .
Yes, but thank you anyway for your. . . err. . . support.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Bye then."
"Hello? This is Professor Severus Snape again. Who's speaking?
. . .
. . .
Right, listen. Could you pass the receiver to that woman I was talking to yesterday?
. . .
. . .
I don't care!
. . .
. . .
Oh yes, you can. All you have to do is ask your colleagues.
. . .
Yes.
. . .
. . .
Yes, I'm waiting.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Hello?
. . .
Yes, it's me again, I. . . what are you laughing at???
. . .
. . .
This is NOT a joke. I have a serious problem here!
. . .
. . .
. . .
Hm-mm.
. . .
. . .
Damn you, I am not going to tell you about my childhood! I told you that it'll be no use! But I have decided to prove to Minerva that this is rubbish. . . Minerva McGonagall, yes. Hold on - you can recall that? You don't have many clients, do y- oh. Yes, I understand. Have you noted anything else about me? Good.
. . .
Hm? Yes.
. . .
. . .
Well, I suppose I might. You see, all this began with me collapsing in class.
. . .
. . .
Yes, sorry. I expected you to start laughing again.
. . .
. . .
Don't be so sociable. It makes me nervous. As I said, I collapsed. And a couple of students brought me up to the hospital wing - probably the worst moment of my career.
. . .
They're brats. Must have been doubling up all the way upstairs. - What?
. . .
In the dungeons. - What're you laughing at???
. . .
No, honestly. I am not joking. Will you listen now?
. . .
Hmpf.
. . .
The school nurse told me I should sleep more. Stop eating so much liquorice and all that. The usual stuff. - Will you stop interrupting me? Yes, liquorice. I am fond of that stuff. Used to consume tons of it before. . . all this started - What? No, of course that wasn't the solution. Would I be talking to you if it had been? I collapsed again after a week or so. At a staff meeting. That was also when the headmaster stepped in and told me to take a break. But I refused. Naturally. Can't let any of the others take my lessons. They are useless when it comes to the more sophisticated arts.
. . .
What I am teaching? I don't think I will tell you, actually. I can hear you writing all the time. Makes me nervous, by the way. Would you please stop it?
. . .
Thank you. Well then - I've had these fits for seven weeks now and, quite honestly, I am sick of them. So when I was talking to one of my colleagues last weekend. . . Minerva, yes. She was the one who suggested I should phone you. And here I am, telling you to make it go away.
. . .
. . .
. . .
I won't! How's that going to help?
. . .
Mmm.
. . .
Hmm. Ridiculous.
...
No, I am not. Try me.
. . .
I grew up in a castle. Near the North Sea. . . . Yes, a proper castle. With towers, battlements, a moat. . . and a drawbridge - we even had a crocodile.
. . .
Yes, in the moat.
. . .
You sound amused. I don't like that.
. . .
. . .
Shut up. Do you want me to continue or not?
. . .
Well, then. . . the castle was surrounded by fields and woods belonging to my fa- family. And a lake. We had a huge, beautiful, glittering lake.
. . .
. . .
. . .
I don't want to tell you about this. Why am I?
. . .
No! Shut up!
. . .
. . .
I - I've got to go. Goodbye."
"Hello?
. . .
. . .
Professor Snape. Severus Snape.
. . .
Yes. Yes, that's right.
. . .
Thank you.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Hello? Professor Snape speaking.
. . .
. . .
Yes, I have decided.
. . .
. . .
I am sorry - but it really isn't my fault if you keep asking. . . yes. Yes, I understand. Listen, we make a deal: I tell you whatever you want to know and you try to supply me with some useful advice for a change.
. . .
Yes.
. . .
No, this is probably useless, but I. . . I am desperate.
. . .
What?!? No!
. . .
Yes, I had another fit, so what?
. . .
. . .
Are you suggesting I am scared? Have you any idea who you are talking to?
. . .
Seriously, I'd go and see a doctor if I considered them life threatening. But I don't- I expect it's got to do with stress or anything. One of these simple, obvious solutions no one ever seems to think of.
. . .
Why I keep calling? Well, certainly not because of you, Miss Sassiness.
. . .
Shut up! Have we got a deal?
. . .
Yes, very well. Now listen, we can talk about anything except my father. I know you people always want to, but I am telling you: I won't discuss him.
. . .
. . .
No.
. . .
. . .
I won't. There is no reason. I just don't want to. Full stop. At least not as long as my sister's breathing down my neck. What? Yes, I have a sister. Surprised?
. . .
I bet. Yes, she's here. For a visit. Lives in Hogsmeade. I can't have her live in the castle, you know.
. . .
Yes, the school is situated in a castle. Did you figure that out all by yourself?
. . .
Stop laughing this instant!
. . .
. . .
. . .
She moved abroad at the age of. . . sixteen or so. Guess she wanted to bring as much distance between herself and my fa- the castle as possible. . . . No, I haven't seen her yet.
. . .
Because I haven't had the time. I am a very busy person, my dear. There's more to teaching than telling a bunch of insufferable little brats not to burn their robes, you know. - Though. . . you wouldn't, probably. Have you ever even seen a school from the inside?
. . .
. . .
Yes, yes - I am sorry. You needn't - What??? I have NOT been avoiding her! Why should I?
. . .
VERY funny, Miss Smartass.
. . .
. . .
Oh, have you got a number of your own, by the way? Can I call you directly? Or will I always have to deal with one of your quick-witted colleagues before I can talk to you?
. . .
Well, I. . . expect this'll take a while, won't it?
. . .
Yes, I'd appreciate that.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Got it. Thank you.
. . .
. . .
. . .
My sister? Why, certainly.
. . .
Her name is Luciana. She's older than me. Three years. Haven't seen her for ages. As I said - she moved.
. . .
Very young, yes. She had a couple of problems with. . . with us, so she went away. Ages ago.
. . .
. . .
No. She's the only sister I have. She. . . was the only person I could talk to. Very smart, you know. Very strong, too. Although a bit feeble - physically. But extremely good-hearted. And highly intelligent.
. . .
You know - we used to share a bedroom. A bed, actually. . . . No, a big one. One of these huge four-poster beds which- inherited, yes. My grandmother. A witch.
. . .
No, I didn't. . . I meant what I said. It wasn't supposed to sound rude. You - what kind of Muggle are you?
. . .
Never mind. I didn't mean to offend you. Where would Minerva have got your number if you weren't our kind, ey? Ha ha ha.
. . .
. . .
Yes, yes, very funny. Do you want me to continue or not? As I said - the bed was inherited and. . . what? Yes, the two of us. As if two weren't enough. There wasn't that much space, you know.
. . .
Well, I'd usually wake up at around six. We had this huge grandfather clock, you see, and its strikes would wake me up in the mornings.
. . .
. . .
I remember, all right.
. . .
How could I forget her soft, black hair, her delicate hands and limps. . . I'd wake up seeing her body covered with this huge blanket. . . You could make out its outlines only just, because she used to be so tiny.
. . .
Her small, thin leg sticking out from under the blanket. . . twitching every now and then - though she was fast asleep - to keep the cradle going.
. . .
Yes, a cradle.
. . .
. . .
Why, the baby, of course.
. . .
Hers? Are you mad? We were children! Luciana was only. . . thirteen - fourteen, at that time. No, it was. . . the baby. Just 'the baby', really. She didn't have a name. Well, she had, but I can't remember. We used to call her 'baby'. Or 'Sil' sometimes. - What? SIL. Short for 'silly'.
. . .
What do you mean 'disagreeable'? Have you ever had to feed or wash an endlessly howling little monster? Have you ever been scolded for what your nine years younger sister has done?
. . .
Shut your trap, then.
. . .
. . .
I. . . no! I have not been lying.
. . .
I-I did??
. . .
. . .
. . .
No, it was. . . actually. . . I didn't think you'd- never thought of Sil as my sister, rea-
. . .
. . .
I have to go. I. . . I'm sorry.
. . .
. . . "
"H-hello?
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Yes. Yes, it's me.
. . .
I. . . I am calling because. . .
. . .
I want you to accept my apology.
. . .
. . .
You must understand - it is not easy for me to. . . to tell you all this. I've never talked to anyone about it before. About Luciana and. . . and the baby. Not even to the Headmaster. And I think I've told him about everything else.
. . .
. . .
Thank you.
. . .
. . .
Yes, it is- no!
. . .
Not at all painful. I said it isn't easy, but I didn't say it wasn't a great relief as well.
. . .
Yes, that's it! It is. . . comforting. In a way. You know when I was telling you about the baby yesterday? And about Luciana keeping the cradle going?
. . .
Well, I had to think of these mornings when. . . are you interested at all?
. . .
I thought you'd say that.
Well then. . . as I said I would always be the first to wake. Never moved, of course, just lay there, listening to Luciana's even breathing and the huge grandfather clock striking. . .
one. . .
two. . .
three. . .
four. . .
five. . .
six times. Luciana would make a sleepy movement or two, then outstretch her arm as if to keep me from leaving.
'Not yet, Severus,' she'd say, 'just a few more minutes.'
I'd get up anyway, of course, which would make her put an arm around me in an effort to force me back again. But I'd shake her off and get to my feet. She'd not be pleased.
'If you wake the baby,' she'd say, 'I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life.'
'Shut up then!' I'd reply.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Pardon? Ah, no - I was distracted.
. . .
Yes, it always happened like that. She would scowl and I'd explain that I needed to see Wock.
. . .
The crocodile. The crocodile in the moat I told you about. Have you even been listening? Our vegetarian crocodile.
. . .
. . .
I want to be taken seriously. If you want to laugh about everything I tell you, I am going to hang up.
. . .
. . .
Yes, I AM! Why would I be joking about this?
. . .
. . .
Never.
. . .
Well, let me explain it to you.
. . .
. . .
My. . . uhm. . . my father needed a crocodile in the moat to. . . err. . . get rid of unpleasant guests. If someone would not agree to his suggestions or was generally getting on his nerves, he'd just throw him in, basically, for Wock to eat.
. . .
No, honestly.
. . .
. . .
I said what???
. . .
Well, uhm, that would be because. . . because Wock wouldn't. . . err. . . wouldn't eat them. He'd just. . . make sure they drowned.
. . .
. . .
. . .
No, it was my fault. I didn't make myself clear.
. . .
. . .
Anyway, Wock never failed to do his duty. No one ever survived a journey into our moat. . . no one except him, that is.
. . .
What? Oh, you know who.
. . .
. . .
You're a bit slow, aren't you? Come on, YOU - KNOW - WHO!
. . .
I don't want to talk about it anyway. Ask me something else.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
The baby?
. . .
Sil, yes.
. . .
Well, she didn't have a proper one. She was just never named.
. . .
. . .
I think my mother was going to, but. . . didn't for some reason.
. . .
. . .
Don't know. Probably just forgot about it. Used to be a very strange person, my mother. In the mornings at least. Some time around six he'd come home and she'd become more sensitive. Watchful, I should say. As if waking up from a long and unpleasant dream. They even tried to talk once.
. . .
. . .
Once. In many years, yes.
. . .
I do remember bits and pieces of that conversation. You sure you want to hear them?
. . .
. . .
Very well, then. It went like this:
'You've come late today.'
'Where's the boy?'
'Upstairs.'
. . .
. . .
'You have more than one child, you know.'
'Shut up. What's that?'
'Bordeaux de Clavier 1877.'
'Pass me the bottle!'
'I'd like to talk for a change.'
He gave a grumpy growl. But for some reason didn't refuse, though, so she went on, 'I've been thinking about our life, Lance, and I seriously don't think we can carry on like this.'
No answer.
'I can't handle three children all by myself,' she continued, 'I need someone to look after the baby. And. . . and I need help for my drinking problem.'
'Who says you've got a drinking problem?'
'I. . . ' And suddenly she seemed to have lost all her confidence at once. But he didn't even let her finish.
'Is that another barrier you intend to set up between us? Or is it just another strange mood of yours?' He was very upset by then. I think they haven't. . . had a very good marriage up to then. Anyway, my mother's never mentioned anything about a drinking problem ever since. I do think she was a bit confused that evening. Because he'd stayed away for so long again. Do you think she might have been confused?
. . .
. . .
He said. . . I can't remember, really. I only know that he was very upset, he. . .
. . .
Someone's coming. I've got to go. Can I talk to you again tomorrow?
. . .
Thank you.
. . .
Goodbye."
"Hello. This is Severus Snape.
. . .
. . .
Yes, I know I said I'd call again sooner, but I. . . couldn't bring myself to do it. . . somehow.
. . .
. . .
I am sorry.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Yes, it does upset me. I've never. . . done it before. But I intend to continue. If you're still interested, that is.
. . .
. . .
. . .
No, I. . . honestly, I don't remember very well. Only that whatever he did made my mother hide in her room for the next six days at least. Caused a bit of trouble, because the baby needed feeding. That was when Luciana started using the bottle, I think.
. . .
Don't know.
. . .
I don't know.
. . .
. . .
Well, I. . . expect she had some help from Mum'ary and perhaps some of the house-el- what? Mum'ary. The cook. We used to have a real cook. Human, I mean. Haven't I mentioned her?
. . .
Strange. Well, Mum'ary was always there when. . . my mother wasn't, basically. She did all the cooking, supervised the cleaning and all that, but she also. . . just sat there and listened whenever either of us had a problem. And she looked after the baby when Luciana was too tired and fed up.
. . .
. . .
. . .
I. . . of course I could, but. . . that's going to be difficult. There's not much to tell about Mum'ary.
. . .
. . .
She was huge. Or on second though. . . she wasn't, probably. I was just very small. . . but she was black. I am sure she was. Tried to make us believe that if she ever had a baby of her own she'd be able to feed cocoa to it instead of milk. And she was always wearing a tea towel around her head.
. . .
A red one.
. . .
Just red, yes.
. . .
. . .
We used to visit her. Luciana and I. We sat in the kitchen. . . , which was underneath the surface. Next to the dungeons, actually, and-
. . .
Not cold, no. There was always a fire. A cracking fire, gleaming sparks. . . and flickering flames changing from a soft blue to bright orange. . . yellow. . . white. . .
. . .
There was a cauldron on top. A big black one. Made of brass and copper. . . very stable. One of those high quality ones which were still available in the early seventies. They stopped making them in 1983, unfortunately, due to some dumb law trying to standardize size the thickness of cauldrons within Britain. Completely pointless if you ask me. - What? No, of course you have never heard of it. Hardly anyone has. This just happens to be my area of expertise.
. . .
. . .
What to you mean by 'chemistry'? There is no such subject. Not at Hogwarts, at least.
. . .
No.
. . .
. . .
. . .
I've lost track now. What was I saying?
. . .
Oh yes. Mum'ary. The only person on this planet, perhaps, whom my father would listen to. Sometimes, at least. Thanks to her I finally got out of that place.
. . .
. . .
Which part didn't you understand? I said 'Thanks to her I finally-' Yes. Yes, it has to do with that stranger who survived the moat. Heavens, you are slow. Haven't you guessed by now?
. . .
No, actually, he did not throw him in. Managed to make it look like an accident. I don't think he would have outlived the day if the Dark Lord hadn't believed his weak tale. 'Oooh. . . the drawbridge hasn't been checked for ages. Did you get very wet? I'm so sorry, Mylord. Let me take your cloak. . . '
. . .
. . .
Of course. What else? He had already changed his name at that time. 'Mylord' was the proper way of addressing him. I've never called him anything else, although. . . although I am no longer in his service, of course.
. . .
I was sixteen when the Dark Lord took me away from the castle. Luciana had long left us and the baby was. . . well. . . not a baby anymore. Father wasn't happy. Shouted after me when I followed my Master across the drawbridge.
'You will never return to this castle, Severus! I will kill you if you dare come near it again! Do you hear me? I WILL KILL YOU!'
. . .
. . .
. . .
I have never seen him again.
. . .
Glad? I'm not sure if I could say that with honesty. Yes, perhaps.
. . .
. . .
I. . . think he still lives, yes. Not sure, though.
. . .
Yes. Yes, my mother. . . too, she. . . she's in. . . in St. Mungo's. I don't visit her.
. . .
A hospital, yes. St. Mungo's. Don't you-
. . .
Well, she. . . she went insane, so they had to. . . had to take her, I. . .
. . .
. . .
I'm so sorry!"
". . .
. . .
. . .
Yes. Yes, I'm me. I'm Snape, I mean. I. . .
. . .
You must hate this.
. . .
. . .
It's just. . . You've got to understand that it is my fault. She went insane and it is my fault.
. . .
Yes, it is. You don't know the whole story. Haven't heard everything. I. . . shouldn't have left them when I knew exactly. . . was well aware of. . . I could have refused. Ought to have. . . refused. . .
. . .
. . .
No, I am not-
. . .
No, I. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
What - you mean a pleasant memory?
. . .
I. . . I don't think there are many of them, actually. . . uhm. . . the mornings were good. And the times when I could go out by myself. Stroll around restlessly. . . wander through the woods and fields looking for. . . searching something. I can't remember what exactly. Guidance, perhaps. Or safety.
. . .
. . .
There are some. . . good things. Everything to do with Mum'ary was nice, now you mention it. There's one specific evening that came into my mind today.
. . .
We were sitting in the kitchen. Mum'ary, Luciana, me and the baby. The baby was quiet, for a change, because Mum'ary had just fed her. She was giggling and trying to catch Luciana's finger, but Luciana wouldn't let her.
'Mum'ary,' she'd say, 'why're you cooking? You ain't no house-elf. Why don't you get a proper job?'
'You are no house-elf,' Mum'ary corrected kindly, 'or "You aren't a house-elf." Ain't isn't a word.'
'Yeah, right,' Luciana replied impatiently, 'I ain't interested in language problems, you know. Come on, why-'
'Because I like it,' Mum'ary interrupted, 'as I must've told you about a hundred times, Luciana. Tell me - where's your mother at the moment?'
'Sleeping, I think,' Luciana replied and shrugged. I nodded. 'I've seen her walk upstairs. She took her wand.'
'I don't like it,' muttered Mum'ary. 'Perhaps I should go and see what she's up to.'
'She'll be angry,' Luciana said shakingly. 'Remember how mad she got last time you left the kitchen?'
'She didn't get mad because I'd left the kitchen but because I'd entered her room without knocking,' said Mum'ary, 'and I won't do that this time.'
'Mum'ary,' said Luciana thoughtfully, 'doesn't she love us just a bit?'
'You mother has a lot of problems,' Mum'ary replied thoughtfully, 'and she's trying to make them disappear using the only method she can think of. But she loves you. Oh yes, I know she does. I helped her give birth to all three of you. Oh yes, I did. And she was damn proud. Each time.' She smiled. 'And so was I.'
'What about father?' I said, well aware that my voice was barely more than a growl. 'He doesn't love us.'
I noticed Luciana's quick glance in my direction and saw her expression change. She drew a deep breath and leaned back, watching the two of us with a hint of suspicion, though seemingly as eager for an answer as I was. For the first time that day, though, even Mum'ary didn't seem to know what to say.
'Your father is a bit difficult,' she finally admitted, looking very undecided, 'I do think he needs help, too.'
'Well, why don't you help them?' asked Luciana sounding more sarcastic than ever.
'All I can do is advise them to get some help,' the cook sighed, 'All I can do is open the door. They'll have to cross the doorstep by themselves.'
'Ploblems,' said the baby and we jumped. Three pairs of eyes were all of a sudden staring in Sil's direction. It was the first time she'd ever spoken. 'Ploblems,' she said again and giggled.
Mum'ary produced a squeak of delight and took the small girl into her arms. 'She speaks!' she said, obviously close to tears, 'I've been so worried.'
'She's only one and a half,' I muttered. 'What need was there to. . . ' But no one listened to me. Luciana stroke the baby's head, called her 'sweetie' and 'good girl' and Mum'ary finally gave in to her tears.
'WHAT IS ALL THIS NOISE ABOUT?' said a sharp voice from the door. All of us turned. Luciana quickly recoiled behind Mum'ary. The baby squeaked and I took a step backwards. What was he doing down here? He'd never entered the kitchen before. Mum'ary put the baby back in her high-chair and bowed her head.
'Welcome home, Master,' she said.
'Severus,' my father said without taking notice of the cook's words. 'Come.'
I approached him at a snail's pace, wondering what I could possibly have done this time and watched his expression with the utmost caution.
'You received a letter, Severus,' he said, 'from Hogwarts.'
I gasped. Hogwarts! Could it be true? So I was a wizard. I would be doing magic. Mum'ary's eyes filled with tears again, but she didn't say anything out of consideration for Luciana's feelings. My father, on the other hand, didn't bother.
'My son, I hereby declare you heir of this property and everything I possess,' he said briskly, 'I am. . . very proud.'
Luciana whimpered. Her eyes filled with tears, too, but these weren't tears of joy. With a sudden jolt of - was it despair? - she rose from her seat and stormed out of the room. My father didn't even try to hold her back.
'The baby spoke today,' I informed him, unable to fight back a broad grin.
'Fascinating,' he replied without looking at her. 'I expect dinner will be ready soon, Mary?'
'Won't be a minute,' she said, bowing her head obediently. 'Ready when you are.'
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
You've gone very quiet. I'm not used to people listening like that.
. . .
. . .
This must be very boring for you.
. . .
. . .
Indeed? I am surprised.
. . .
No, honestly. I don't think I would be interested if you told me all this about yourself.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
You didn't understand what? The part about my sister? Why, what. . .
. . .
Oh.
. . .
. . .
Very well, I. . . I'll tell you. Because I trust you won't-
. . .
. . .
She was a Squib. Luciana has never shown any signs of magic."
July 27th, 1995 - case 010442 "Severus Snape", counsellor: "A. Whitaker"
We have made some progress in this case. Severus seems willing to remember bits and pieces of his childhood and has even given me some information about his father, though very reluctantly.
It seems difficult for him to accept that he was kicked out at an early age, possibly fifteen or sixteen. There is more than hatred in his voice when he talks about his parents. Curiously neither fear nor any specific criticism. Just utter loathing. His sister appears to suffer or have suffered from an incurable illness. (There is still no evidence for her being alive.) At this point, however, it is impossible to find out further details, because Severus has covered everything related to her in a veil of imagination.
I believe that every time he talks about 'magic' and magic-related things he is actually trying to drive out unpleasant memories. These are memories concerning his sister, but also the rest of his family and the secondary school he went to. A rather conservative boarding school, apparently. Being admitted to Hogwarts, as he calls it, must have been the key to another life. Something he once again describes using terms like 'wizard' and 'magic'. There is a good chance, however, that he will dispose of these fantasies without me interfering and eventually comes out with the truth about what happened.
There is, however, one aspect that troubles me quite a bit. When reaching a state of liberation we had not achieved before Severus told me about a "vegetarian crocodile" his father seems to have used to get rid of unpleasant visitors. As far as I can judge he is trying to forget a very crucial moment of his past or, more likely, has witnessed a murder. I am not sure, if such a disturbance at such a young age can be overcome via telephone counselling. I am no professional, after all. Perhaps I will have to advise psychological supervision.
For now, I will be responsive to his explanations and hope that he opens up at least partly without me pressing on.
"Morning. This is Severus Snape.
. . .
. . .
Yes, yes, don't you get sentimental. It's been almost a week, I know. So what?
. . .
Are you exceedingly busy?
. . .
That's good to hear.
. . .
No, I had to think about what you said and. . . I must make a confession. Wock-
. . .
Yes. How do you know?
. . .
. . .
Uh. Well yeah, he did eat people, occasionally, but he was no. . . wild animal, you see. We didn't have a monster in the moat. He would merely eat what he was given and. . . yes, of course I saw it.
. . .
Several times, actually.
. . .
. . .
Tell you about it? Are you sure that will be necessary?
. . .
. . .
Uhm. Every detail?
. . .
Yes, yes. Very well then. . .
. . .
There were countless times. - No, never anybody I knew. Strangers, mostly. Except. . .
. . .
. . .
Yes, hang on.
. . .
There has been someone I knew, actually. He was the father of one of my friends. Later at Hogwarts, you see. I believe he and my father used to be on friendly terms as well. Before that day. But something changed. I still haven't quite grasped what happened. I. . . never thought very highly of that man anyway.
. . .
Unpleasant, yes. Couldn't have put better. As I said, he was visiting my mother, when-
. . .
My mother, yes. What are you implying?
. . .
Keep those distasteful comments for yourself. And no, he wasn't. My father used to be at work at this time of the day.
. . .
But he returned. An hour early. I do believe he was in a very good mood, originally. Seemed very calm, in any case. And even Luciana appeared less reluctant that usual. He approached us, kissed her on her cheek and put his hand on my shoulder.
'Where's mother?' he asked in what was almost a cheerful voice, 'not still in bed, I suppose?'
'She's got a visitor,' I said and shrugged, primarily in order to get rid of his firm grip. 'Don't know his name, though. Haven't seen him before.' It was true. I hadn't. His hand painfully seized my shoulder for a brief moment, then loosened when the door swung open.
'Lance,' the surprised voice of a man said. I couldn't see him because he was standing behind the door of the wardrobe. 'I. . . have come to see Teg.'
'I noticed,' was all my father replied.
'I. . . uhm. . . have recommended her an excellent doctor,' the man continued. 'If you haven't noticed she's very ill, Lance - I have.' He stepped forward so that I could see him now. He was blonde and a bit taller than my father. Strangely enough his robes showed a large Slytherin coat of armour on the backside. I hadn't yet had much to do with that matter then, of course. I was only five years old after all. I remember liking the colours, though.
. . .
. . .
It is one of the Hogwarts houses. My house, actually. I am Head of Slytherin.
. . .
. . .
Yes.
. . .
My father managed to keep his composure although I could feel he was fuming. Luciana had taken refuge in the kitchen, but I couldn't bring myself to leave the place. I wanted to see it. Perhaps my sister's just cleverer than I am. I don't know. Anyway, my father put on a rare smile and asked the stranger to follow him to his office. The latter seemed to assume they'd be having a drink there. Possibly overcoming old disagreements at last. But I was certain that no reunion was about to happen. I saw the loathing in my father's expression, although unable to understand his reasons. I was, in any case, aware that the stranger was falling for something I had long stopped trusting. He would end up in the moat like the rest of them.
. . .
. . .
A trapdoor? Pfft. How would that have worked? Naa - it was much simpler than that. He just tossed him out of the window.
. . .
Pardon? No, I am not grinning. - No, I do not think this is funny. Though I must say the idea. . . It is quite something to just throw people out of the window if you want to get rid of them, isn't it?
. . .
You're right. I shouldn't say that. I can hear my father speaking. Can you believe it? He was never very considerate when it came to interpersonal relations.
. . .
. . .
I saw the stranger fall out of the window straight into the moat. He hit the roof with his left arm, slumped against a stonewall and glided down another roof into the musty green water. Head first. I thought he had drowned immediately. Many did, because the water was quite sticky. You couldn't really move in there, you see, let alone swim. But then the man's head turned up once more. His hair had lost its fair colour and he was covered with mud and seaweed.
'You will pay for that one, Snape!' he yelled. 'You can't just throw everyone you dislike into your moat, you know! I have friends! Powerful friends! And they will take your wife from you! And your children, and. . . ' He stopped. The huge, green backside of a crocodile came into his sight, gliding towards him almost elegantly, but without hurry. All of a sudden his voice seemed to fail him.
'Help,' he whispered, 'Snape, there is a crocodile in here!'
'Perhaps,' a loud voice came from the window next to mine and I quickly ducked as to not to be seen by my father, 'your precious friends will never know that you have ever paid a visit to my castle. That you tried to obliterate the piece and harmony of MY FAMILY. I should think they never will, Marius Malfoy!' And he laughed.
'You can't have that beast kill me,' Malfoy gasped staring into a heavily toothed maw right next to his face, 'I haven't. . . ' But what he had not we never found out. Wock's jaws clutched around the man's neck and with a single bite his head was severed from his. . .
from. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Teeth. . .
. . .
There was. . . teeth. . . and a crack, when. . .
. . .
. . .
I am fine, don't - don't worry.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . . "
"Good evening. This is Professor McGonagall. I am very sorry for bothering you at this time of night, I-
. . .
Yes. Yes, the one phoning you about Severus a few weeks ago. Have you been talking to him only a minute ago?
. . .
. . .
He collapsed.
. . .
. . .
I came to his room half an hour ago and heard him speak to you, so I decided to withdraw without bothering him. He, however, seemed very upset. Stammered something about teeth and a crack, panted heavily, slammed the receiver down and fainted. He is still unconscious. Would you mind telling me what upset him so much? I've never seen him like this. He -
. . .
what do you mean 'data protection'?
. . .
. . .
Now really, don't you think this is a bit ridiculous? It was me who asked you to help him in the first place. I am worried about him. We are very close friends.
. . .
. . .
Because he is unconscious, for Merlin's sake!
. . .
. . .
. . .
Listen, all I asked you was to see if there was something in his past that might cause these fits. I never-
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Yes, of course.
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. . .
I never asked you to get involved so much! Let alone put him into any immediate danger. If this is not entirely safe, I won't have it anymore.
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Hm.
. . .
. . .
. . .
I see.
. . .
. . .
Oh, I see.
. . .
. . .
Hmpf. Well, thank you anyway.
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Yes.
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. . .
Yes, I understand.
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Goodbye."
"Good evening.
. . .
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Yes. It is me.
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Yes, it. . . it is good to hear you, too.
. . .
. . .
I am not interested in what she says. I am not interested in what anyone says.
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Oh. I understand.
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Asked you to what? Look if there was something wrong in my. . .
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Yes, I am still there.
. . .
I get the feeling that Minerva knows me quite a bit better than I expected.
. . .
. . .
Oh, for years. We've known each other ever since I came to Hogwarts. She was my teacher, you know. Transfiguration. I wasn't exactly very. . . talented when it came to changing animals into water goblets and all that stuff, so she gave me extra lessons. Helped me with my exams and all that. She even scolded Potter once, because he'd shot a nasty remark at my feathered guinea pig.
. . .
. . .
Don't tell me you're writing down his name.
. . .
. . .
Well, it is a waste of time, because I am certainly not getting into the subject. He was an arrogant piece of scum and I do not wish to discuss him or any of his annoying friends with you. They belong to a part of my life I'd rather not be reminded of.
. . .
. . .
My time at Hogwarts, yes. More precisely, my time as a student there.
. . .
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No.
. . .
Forget it.
. . .
Not falling for it.
. . .
. . .
Still not falling for it.
. . .
. . .
Well, if you must know - I hate them because every time I met one of them something would happen to me, such as my books vanishing out of the blue, my robes suddenly catching fire, or. . . even more unpleasant things. I hate them because every time we met I had to endure nasty remarks about my looks, the way I moved or the house I lived in. In short, I hate them, because they made my life a living hell. And they haven't stopped. One, you see, is a werewolf and needs a potion every full moon to keep him sane, and-
. . .
. . .
More interested in Potter, are you? I should have known. I shouldn't have mentioned him. He was a bastard. Believed himself a cut above the rest of us. But- no, he is dead.
. . .
. . .
You sound surprised.
. . .
Well, I can't say I was terribly upset. Shocked, yes. But. . . in some ways he deserved it. Got stabbed in the back by his best friend, you see. Nothing like that could ever happen to me.
. . .
That remark was neither funny nor clever, missy.
. . .
Very funny. No, there is some truth in it, but I chose this life. I chose to be alone. Not to make any friends. Not long ago, by the way. I abandoned all my former friends and didn't. . . bother making new ones, basically. Friends are most people's greatest weakness.
. . .
Minerva? Oh yes.
. . .
Friends, yes. But that's something entirely different. You can't. . . can't really get rid of her once she's decided to bless you with her friendship. I tried. Several times. But I just. . . it just didn't work like with all the others. She simply. . . refused to take offence at my remarks. Quite astounding, come to think of it. A remarkable woman.
. . .
Yes, I suppose you could say that I - I like her. She's a very capable colleague and an excellent chess player.
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Yes, and a very good friend. Now stop this nonsense.
. . .
. . .
You won't give up on him, will you? James Potter was an annoying little brat! Nothing more! He certainly never played an important role in my life! And neither did that. . . that Black fellow. Now, could we talk about something else, please?
. . .
Thank you. Though. . . is there anything left I haven't told you? I seem to think not.
. . .
. . .
The stranger, ey? I was sure you'd come back to that. Well, all right then. I'll tell you what happened the day I left my home. Is that what you want?
. . .
I thought you'd say that.
. . .
. . .
Actually, it all began the evening before. It was some time near the end of July, and I was sitting in our bedroom on the four-poster bed, reading an excerpt from "Liquids to Love" from Arsenius Jigger. You know him?
. . .
Hm. Well, all of a sudden the door bursts open and my father enters, rigid with fury. He grabs me, beats me up and shouts a lot of stuff I don't understand. I was busy covering my face, you see. Ever since he'd broken my lower jaw I have been more interested in avoiding his straws than in hitting back. I -
. . .
Yes, of course he did. What did you expect? You think he was a loving husband and father? Haven't I told you enough by now? Can't you estimate what our life was like when he was there?
. . .
Yes. Yes, he had a reason. For a change.
. . .
It was - about my grades, you see. The exams didn't go very well. I - I think. . . He'd expected some more O.W.L.s. Arithmency didn't work out. Nor did Transfiguration.
. . .
Yes. Yes, he did. That's what he was like, you see. Brutal. And highly inconsiderate. If Mum'ary hadn't stopped him. . . why, who knows what might have happened? Don't know how she did it, myself. She just entered and. . . He was surprised, I suppose, because she told him that a guest was waiting in the hall. The Master had arrived.
. . .
. . .
Listen, I am really telling you quite a lot already. So would you please stop trying to persuade me to say his name? Because I won't. No one does. I have no idea why you haven't heard about him, but let me tell you that he was. . . no, sorry, that he is the mightiest wizard in the world - apart from Albus Dumbledore, that is. Now, if you consider yourself equal to someone who performs the killing curse twice an hour, I am happy to hear you say the name, but I won't.
. . .
Of course I saw him. I told you. But not. . . I didn't go downstairs immediately. I was bleeding too badly. Mum'ary helped me get up and dragged me into the bathroom so that she could look after my bruises before allowing me to go downstairs.
. . .
My father and the Master had gone into the living room. I made to follow them, but Mum'ary held me back.
. . .
'Don't,' she whispered. 'He'll kill you.'
So I stopped and moved closer to the door, to be able to overhear the conversation.
'You still owe me an answer,' said the Master. 'I won't wait much longer, Snape.'
'Well, it's not an easy decision to make is it?' replied my father almost haughtily. 'You give me reason to believe that you won't. . . err. . . stay within the limits of decency with your plans.'
'It is not a matter of decency,' the Dark Lord hissed irritably, 'It is a matter of taking sides now, Snape, before it is too late. Once the war is decided I will not forget those who believed in me. But I won't forget those who did not either, be sure of that.' It sounded like a threat. My father laughed nervously.
'Now, you are not really going to challenge old Dumbledore, are you? I have never seen a mightier wizard, and I've met quite a lot.'
'Are you going to join or not?'
'Not if you're going to openly defy Dumbledore.'
'You do not believe me when I tell you I'll kill him as soon as I get the chance? You do not believe I am perfectly capable of getting rid of that Muggle-loving fool who prefers to stay headmaster when he has been offered the Minister of Magic post? You think he cannot be defeated?'
'That is indeed what I think,' said my father.
'You realize that in case of a war I'll have to kill you then,' the Dark Lord whispered. 'You - and your entire family.'
The door burst open. I fell backwards. From the back of the room my father was watching me with some surprise.
'Severus,' he then hissed, 'I believe I told you to stay in your room?' He had. I stared at him, without answering. The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed at the sight of me. My father, however, ignored him, grabbed my collar and pulled me back to my feet. He took my face with a pincer-like grip, made me look straight at him and hissed:
'You just wait until we are alone.'
'No,' I panted, 'I won't. I will leave. Today.' I turned towards the Dark Lord, who didn't await my question.
'Yes,' he said, 'you may come with me, young Snape, and pay the tribute your father refuses to give me.'
My father went pale. 'You won't. . . I don't allow it!'
'The boy is all I demand for recompense. I shall not burn your home if he comes with me,' the Dark Lord said and gave a hissing laugh. My father shook his head. I'd rather see this castle destroyed in war. He stays!'
They argued for a while, but my decision was made. I was going to leave. And so I did. Only half an hour later.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Pardon? No, sorry, I. . . oh, I see.
. . .
No, he wasn't happy. I told you what he shouted after me - he'd agreed to let me go at first, you see, but changed his mind. And I believe it was Mum'ary who put him off following us and starting another fight. Anyway, that's how things went. That's how I came to join the Dark Lord. Not exceedingly spectacular, I should think, but that's how most people came to join him. Through situations like this one.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Your silence is very off-putting. But I need to go anyway. It is very late. And if Minerva finds out I am still calling you. . .
. . .
Yes, I know I said I don't care. But that. . . that was a lie. Good night.
. . .
. . . "
"You know what? I regret it. I have no idea how you did that, but my iron-cast opinion that leaving my home was the right decision has been wavering the past days, and that's your fault!
. . .
Yes, hello. How kind of you to remind me of preserving good manners. - Severus, yes.
. . .
Yes, yes, it is nice speaking to you again as well. Did you take in a word of what I just said, though? Rub out that sense of guilt you have filled me with. Make it disappear at once!
. . .
I am not joking. You see, I made a promise to my sister, and - to Luciana, yes, and I didn't keep it. I betrayed her memory, can you believe it? I am- what???
. . .
Furious? Why would I be. . . well, I suppose I am just slightly. . .
. . .
NO, I WILL NOT TELL YOU WHAT EXACTLY I PROMISED! IT IS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU HAD TO REMIND ME OF IT!
. . .
. . .
. . .
Yes. I know I am not being sensible. Would you be? I betrayed my sister's. . . I mean. . . I failed her. Somehow.
. . .
. . .
I hate you.
. . .
. . .
Oh, very well then. It was the evening before she left. I was thirteen or something. She had just turned sixteen - and was really unhappy. I could sense it, so I asked for what reason. She didn't reply immediately.
'I have my reasons,' she said after a while, 'but I am not sure you'll be able to understand them. I've been thinking today. And I think I have finally made up my mind.'
I nodded.
'Did you hear mother and father fight this morning?' she enquired. 'That's what got me started. I thought, we can't continue like this.'
I shrugged. I hadn't noticed the latest fight, but nothing about it struck me as exceedingly unusual.
'Well,' Luciana continued, her voice now sounding strangely hoarse, 'they were fighting about me. Seems that I am not. . . that father's not. . . my father after all.'
'How can that be?' I asked stupidly. She sighed.
'I knew you wouldn't be able to understand it,' she said, 'and you needn't yet. The point is that father's asked me to see him tonight.'
My heart sank. 'Again?' I said. 'But - you told me you didn't like it.'
'No,' she said quickly and blushed. 'It's not. . . it's not that. He asked me to see him in his office.'
I shook my head. 'That makes no sense.'
'Well,' Luciana muttered, 'perhaps it does. But again, you needn't understand about that now. I-' she stopped and sighed. 'I will be gone for a while, Severus. I may return, but perhaps I won't, and in that case I want you to promise me something.'
I stared blankly at her, but nodded after a while.
'I want you to promise me that you will look after Sil,' she said, 'and I don't mean feeding her. You might have noticed that she doesn't need that any longer.'
I grinned. Luciana smiled.
'I want you to protect Sil,' she said, rising from her chair, 'from father.'
It took me a while to grasp what she had just said. 'You mean. . . '
'I mean,' she interrupted, her voice shaking slightly, 'that he must never ask her to come. . . to come to him in the evenings, do you understand me, Severus? I want you prevent that! And I want you to leave this place as soon as you get the chance and. . . and to take her with you. Please take her with you. Don't worry about mother. She's strong. She's. . . got a choice. Take Sil. Under no circumstances leave Sil alone with father and mother, do you understand me, Severus? Do you understand that?'
I nodded.
'Will you promise to look after Sil?'
I nodded again.
'Say "I swear"!'
I did. The clock struck seven. She left.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Where she went? Why, I told you - she left us. N-never seen her again. I. . . excuse me for a moment.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
She - she's dead, isn't she?
. . . "
"Hello, Professor McGonagall speaking. I have a few questions you'll have to answer to, my dear. There's something decisively wrong with your therapy. Severus has been hiding in his laboratory for three days now. He frankly refuses to come out, let alone talk to anyone. I demand to know what happened. What have you been talking about?
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
I - I understand. And you cannot tell me any more than that? Will he be all right again?
. . .
Well, that's something at least. So you think the therapy has been successful?
. . .
What do you mean by 'astoundingly yes'? It was my idea after all.
. . .
. . .
. . .
No, he. . . he might need some time to get over the sudden. . . realization. I will see what I can do. Least, I suppose, is keeping students away from the lab.
. . .
Yes, term's started again. But don't worry. We'll be fine here. You said he'll just need some time, didn't you?
. . .
. . .
I - excuse me, please. I cannot - thank you enough for all you did. - Pardon? Yes, of course you have questions. I expect you must be very puzzled to find that a world like ours exists, don't you? Well, I have an explanation, but you need to listen closely, because this is going to quite difficult, given that you're not actually standing in front of me. Give me just a second to get hold of my. . . ah, yes. Ready?
. . .
"Obliviate".