The Death of a Soul

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Chapter Thirty Five

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On day ten at St Mungo’s, two Aurors escorted Snape into a small but casual room. He took a seat on the small sofa across from another one and waited while his ‘guards’ stood silent against the far wall. He had no false illusions that wherever he went from then on that he’d be chaperoned. As he sat back and waited for his ‘counselor’, his mind drifted.

At first, the days and nights alone had been agony for Snape, but as time went by, he treasured it. His surroundings hadn't been like Harry’s – though he didn’t know that of course – but his small room was comfortable enough. At least the bed was – when he was on it that is.

In the beginning, Severus had spent most of the time on the floor. He wouldn’t have called what he did ‘pouting’, but that’s exactly what he had done. Of course, it was only after he obtained a hoarse throat from shouting and sore muscles from trying to turn over the unturnoverble bed, that Severus finally collapsed on the floor. He stayed there till dinner arrived.

One thing he learned was that everything ran like clockwork at St Mungo’s. Breakfast, lunch and dinner arrived at the precise same time. He liked that above all. Punctuality. It was a sin not to be in his eyes. As Severus waited for dinner to arrive, and that no one was going to answer his demands, or acknowledged his presence for that matter, he began to consider his options.

And his schemes.

Oh, yes. Naturally, he schemed. He was a Slytherin after all. Head of House at that. He knew what the future had in store for him. Days in and days out of just ‘talking’. Snape snorted at that. Talking. What good was talking about anything? He knew it would be beneficial if the conversations were about practical things – such as how to get himself out there and how he could be with Harry again. But no. He knew they would want him to just … talk. Meaningless shit like ‘his feelings’.

‘Feelings,’ he thought, snorting. He’d tell them all about his ‘feelings’ all right. Loud and clear. So loud that they would need earmuffs.

At that moment, Healer Graham walked into the room and calmly sat behind his desk. He straightened some loose parchments and put them aside. He looked up at Severus and smiled.

“I apologise for my tardiness, Severus.” Severus grunted a non-committal acknowledgement. “What I’d like to discuss in our first session is Harry.”

“What about him?” Severus snapped.

“I’d like for us to talk about him,” he repeated.

“Fine. Where is he?” Severus asked shortly.

Healer Graham raised his brows and tilted his head. “Severus,” he began quietly. “You know where he is.”

“Then take me to him.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Then what is there to talk about?”

Healer Graham answered slowly, trying to emphasise his objective. “I would like for us to talk about Harry and the relationship between the two of you.” He paused briefly. “Do you have any objections?”

“Do I have a choice?” Severus said, snarling.

“Of course you do. You can choose not to talk about anything, but I will warn you that for every day that you do not is one day further away from seeing Harry.”

“So then I can see him?”

“Eventually.”

“Then take me to him now!”

Graham sighed and sat back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “Severus. He’s not ready.”

“What do you mean he’s not ready?” Severus said, his voice raising. “Ready for what?” he half-shouted.

Graham looked at Severus evenly. “He’s not ready to see you, and no one will force him to.” He quickly held up a hand to forestall Severus from objecting. “It will be his decision to decide when, Severus, and the more you push it, the least likely he will ever want to.”

Severus grit his teeth, took a deep breath before hanging his head. He sighed. “What must I do?”

Graham smiled. It was a small sign that there might be hope yet - for Severus needed healing as much as Harry. “For now, we will only talk.” Severus looked up, frowning. “I won't lie to you, Severus. It might be a long time before Harry will talk to you, let alone seeing you.”

“I will…” Severus started softly. “…do whatever it takes then.”

This time, Healer Graham gave Severus a genuine smile. “An excellent decision, Severus. Shall we begin?”

Severus looked away and barely nodded.

“Severus?” Graham said to draw attention back to him. “I don’t expect much in these first few sessions, but I do expect honesty.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, I will be honest! How dare you insinuate otherwise!” he spat.

“I did not mean to insult you, Severus. I was merely reciting a statement that I give to everyone. That way there are no miscommunications of what I expect. And you can expect the same from me.”

Severus nodded curtly, then waved his hand at Graham to begin the questioning.

Healer Graham shifted in his seat, getting into a more comfortable position. Severus took the hint and followed suit. Once they were both situated, Graham launched into what he knew would be dangerous questions.

“Severus, I’d like to start by discussing the night Voldemort was destroyed and what followed afterward.”

Severus’s body tensed, and he gripped the arms of the small sofa chair. After a long pause, he nodded curtly.

“As I’m sure you already know, I saw your Pensieve of that night.” Graham waited till Severus acknowledged him. He continued carefully, “I’m curious, Severus. Would you have only erased the memory of Harry killing the Dark Lord?”

“What does that suppose to mean?” Severus said, raising his voice.

“Please just answer the question. Would that have been the only thing you would have erased from Harry’s mind?”

Severus looked at him skeptically. “Yes,” he answered slowly.

“I see. So hypothetically speaking, what did you expect to happen next?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“Well, after you altered his memory, Harry would then believe you saved him from Voldemort, and that the Life Debt was warranted, thus the two of you would still be married.”

“That’s correct,” Severus answered nonchalantly.

“And you would have no guilty conscience of deceiving him,” Graham said in a form of a statement.

“No.”

Graham nodded. “All right. Then what?”

“Then what what? Would you kindly please be more specific?” Severus asked impatiently.

“Certainly. What did you imagine to happen after that? Between Harry and you?”

“We would still be married, of course!” Severus snapped.

“And, of course, Harry would then accept his fate?”

“Of course he would accept his fate! If he had accepted his fate in the first place, none of this would have happened!” Severus said, sitting straight up in his chair.

“Fair enough,” Graham said, nodding. “So Harry accepts his fate. And he accepts the fact that the two of you are married and he will never question it again.”

“That’s the way it should have been!” Severus spat angrily.

Graham continued to nod. “All right. Let’s say that it is how it is now.”

“But it’s not, is it?” Severus said bitterly.

“No, but again we’re talking hypothetically.”

Severus huffed and then said, “I don’t see where there would be any further questions after that. Harry, and I would be married and that would be the end of it,” he said as if the matter was settled.

“And you and Harry would be happy?”

“Of course!”

“But what if Harry wasn’t?”

“Wasn’t what?” Severus said, growing angrier by the minute.

“What if Harry wasn’t happy? What if Harry accepted his fate and the fact that he is your husband, but he still wouldn’t be happy?” Graham asked calmly.

“Why wouldn’t he be happy?” Severus countered.

“Why should he be?” Graham asked softly.

“Because there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be!”

Graham quietly sighed. He decided to try a different tactic. “Severus, do you love Harry?”

“Of course I do!” Severus shouted.

“And Harry loves you?”

Severus clenched his jaw and pursed his lips into a thin line. “He will.”

Graham tilted his head and frowned. “But what if he doesn’t?”

“HE WILL!” Severus screamed.

A painful silence filled the room.

Graham looked at him compassionately. “Severus, all I’m asking – hypothetically of course – is what if Harry never loves you?”

No reply.

“Severus?”

“WHAT?”

Again Graham kept his voice calm and even. “What if Harry will never be happy nor will he ever love you, no matter what you say or no matter what you do?”

Severus looked away and scowled.

Graham sighed. “I see that our session is over.”

Severus looked back at Graham and smirked.

“However, before you go, I have something that I want you to think about for our next session. I would like you to think about the possibility of Harry never being happy if you two were still married and how it would make you feel. I also want you to consider the possibility that Harry doesn’t love you, nor will he ever love you, and even possibly end up hating you for the rest of your life.”

“He doesn’t hate me!” Severus insisted.

Graham looked at him seriously and leaned forward. “How do you know that, Severus?”

“Because I know!”

“Have you ever asked him?” Severus didn’t answer. “Have you ever asked him how he does feel, Severus? About you?” Graham paused briefly. “Severus, have you ever asked him what would make him happy?”

“Of course I have!”

“And what was his answer?”

No reply.

“Severus,” Graham said, lowering his voice. “What was his answer?”

“He said he’d rather be dead than to be married to me!” Severus cried out.

Graham sat back in his chair and looked at Severus sadly. “Our time is up. We shall continue this tomorrow. Good evening, Severus.”


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