Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Severus gingerly sat in the plush wooden chair he was directed towards. Doctor Anna Kingston sat in the chair across the desk from him, but he wasn't paying her much attention, instead looking around the room.

The brown desk, a computer and some papers on top, Doctor Anna Kingston's black swivel chair, the certificates on the wall. A bookcase, two black filing cabinets, a few posters....It really wasn't anything special.

“Severus?”

Severus finally looked at the woman across from him. Pale skin, black hair with curly ends, light brown eyes. She was wearing jeans, a black sweater, and flat bottomed, brown boots.

Severus couldn't stop himself from looking down at his own clothes. A twenty year old gray sweatshirt and jeans he got at a thrift store paired with brand new black ballshoes.

He was definitely dressing at a lower caliber than her.

“Severus?” Doctor Anna Kingston repeated. “Can I ask you some question to start off?”

Severus looked back up at her, but kept his gaze at lip level. He had never been able to stand eye contact for very long, didn't like it at all, but it had gotten worse since the war. “Sure.” His voice sounded gravelly from how rarely it was used, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered at this point.

“Alright. Before we begin, just know that you never have to tell me anything you don't want to. You control what we talk about, alright?”

“Okay.”

“How old are you?”

“Forty. January 9^th, 1960.”

“What's your blood status?”

“Half-blood. Pureblood mother, muggle father. I was raised in the muggle world.”

“Where do live now? In a muggle area, magical, or both?”

“Muggle. Same house I grew up in.”

“Is Severus the name you prefer?”

“....Yes....”

“What are your pronouns?”

“....He/Him....”

“Have you ever seen any sort of mental health professional in the past? A therapist, psychologist, counselor. Anything like that?”

“No.”

“I just have one more question, then we can stop the script. Okay?”

Severus didn't respond.

“What made you decide to start seeing me?”

Severus didn't have an answer. It wasn't like he had sat forever pondering this. He just....Came. He just made an appointment and answered the questions on the paperwork and showed up.

“I made an appointment.”

Anna smiled. “But, why did you make an appointment?”

“....”

“I'm going to ask in a different way. What are you hoping to achieve from coming here and talking to me?”

“I....I don't understand....” That wasn't something Severus usually admitted, but....He just couldn't care at the moment.

“Well, some people do therapy for mental health and/or trauma, to get over a breakup, to understand their emotions, and more. What about you?”

“I guess trauma and mental health and all the related stuff.” Severus felt his gaze drift to the blank, white, wall a few inches to the left from behind Doctor Anna Kingston.

“What do you define as 'all the related stuff'?”

“I don't know....Whatever comes up.”

“Alright, thank you for answering my questions, it'll be a lot of help.”

Severus wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that, so didn't. He knew Doctor Anna Kingston would eventually give in and begin talking first. And that she did.

“Do you have anything specific you want to talk about today?”

“No.” Severus didn't have anything specific he ever wanted to talk about. Even if he did, his mind was too blank right now for anything. He just felt tired.

“Can you tell me how you feel right now?”

Severus did not want to answer that question. He already had, if just in his head. Maybe that's what made it come out so snappish, but he couldn't tell you either way, so perhaps it didn't matter.

“Tired.”

“In what way?”

“I'm tired....What else do you want me to say?”

“Are you physically tired, emotionally, or mentally?”

“Yes.”

“You're tired in all three ways?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me how long you've felt this way?”

“No.”

“Is it a constant feeling or only sometimes?”

“Don't remember.”

“Can you think of anything that triggers you into feeling this way? Or makes you less tired in any way?”

“No.”

“Are there no ways, or can you just not think of them right now?”

“Don't remember.”

Severus knew he wasn't exactly making himself easily understood, but he really didn't know what else to say. He didn't really know about anything except when he was feeling it, and he felt tired right now, so he knew about being tired. Everything else felt like it was behind a glass wall. He knew about it, he could see it, he was close to it, but he couldn't touch....That was a rather common feeling, he thought.

“Does my wall interest you?” Doctor Anna Kingston asked, not unkindly. In fact, she really seemed to want the answer. Was curious about it.

“No. It's plain white, no decorations. That's boring.”

“Then why are you staring at it?”

“So I don't have to look at you.” Severus was honest. Severus was always honest, except when he lied. Then he tended to lie a lot, but that was a long time ago, mostly.

“Why don't you want to look at me?” She didn't seem angry or offended, still just kind and curious. It sort of infuriated Severus in a way he couldn't describe, but that was life. Whatever.

“Hurts.”

“Do you know why it hurts?”

“No.”

“That's alright. You can look wherever you please.” Doctor Anna Kingston's voice remained light and steady, but Severus was sure she was disappointed at not getting a real answer to satisfy her brain.

“Why isn't there a clock in here?” Severus couldn't stop himself from asking.

“If there was a clock then patients would spend a lot of the session looking at it, or worrying about the time. Removing the clock removes the problem.” She didn't seemed annoyed by his random, unrelated, question, but Severus knew she legally couldn't show it if she was, so wasn't assured.

“I don't like not knowing the time.”

“How come?”

“How will I know when I'm running out of time?”

“I'll give you a five minute warning at the end of every session.” Doctor Anna Kingston promised. “I do for most of my patients.”

Severus wanted to ask what would happen if they ran out of time in the middle of something, or what he was supposed to do if something would take a long time and he didn't know how much of the session was left, but he didn't. That would sound weird and paranoid. He didn't want her thinking of him that way.

“Does that work?” Doctor Anna Kingston questioned when Severus didn't respond after nearly a minute or so.

“I guess.”

“May I ask what you did this morning?”

“Slept.”

“How about when you woke up?”

“Came here.”

“Where do you live?”

“How much longer is there?”

“I told you I would tell you when you reached the five minute mark.” Doctor Anna Kingston reminded.

“I want to know now.”

“Alright, then. It's...1:23, so thirty-seven more minutes.”

“Thirty-two minutes until my warning.”

“That's right.”

“I don't know what to say now.” Severus told the doctor, because he didn't. How did you respond to 'that's right'? Especially when it was about time, a not very versatile topic.

“That's okay....Did you go to Hogwarts.”

“Yes.”

“What house were you in?”

“Slytherin.”

“Did you like being a Slytherin?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“Peers were bad, lost my friend, Voldemort.”

“If those things didn't happen, would you have liked being a Slytherin?”

“Maybe. Don't know. Didn't live that life.”

“That's fair. So, when you were at Hogwarts, were you part of any clubs? Did you play quidditch?”

“No.”

“What was your favorite class?”

“Potions and defense.”

“Your least favorite?”

“Transfiguration.”

“What made you dislike transfiguration?”

“The animals didn't deserve that.” Severus replied darkly. Minerva was his teacher, mentor, colleague, but he would never forgive her for what she made him do to innocent, helpless, animals for a stupid letter grade.

“When did you go to Hogwarts?” Doctor Anna Kingston changed the topic seeing it was perhaps a bit too heavy for their first session.

“Wednesday, September 1^st, 1971-Thursday, June 1^st, 1978.”

“How can you still remember the days of the week?” Doctor Anna Kingston asked, really seeming impressed by it.

“We didn't have school the next day which only happens if the first is a Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, or Saturday. I remember having all the possible break days before classes started which means that it had to be Wednesday.”

“And the last day of your seventh year?”

“The day afterword I went to this store in Diagon Alley that's only open Monday-Friday. The following Monday was too late and I was busy the rest of the week at school. Ergo I went on Friday which was annoying because I used to use Fridays for experimenting with more dangerous ingredients. So, it had to be Thursday or else I would have gone on a different day.”

“You have a good memory.” Doctor Anna Kingston praised.

“Only with some stuff. Can't remember most. Somethings I can only remember sometimes.” Severus felt odd telling her all this. Like it was wrong. But, he couldn't really stop himself.

“Have you always been this way?”

“I don't know.”

“What's your favorite color?”

“....Blue....” Severus couldn't remember the last time someone had asked him that, but it felt nice.

Severus was surprised by how much of the rest of the session was just Doctor Anna Kingston asking him basic questions like that. What he liked and disliked, how many pillows and blankets he slept with, if he had pets.

Severus had sort of expected more mental probing and invasive questions, but Doctor Anna Kingston really seemed to be gentle and casual. Of course, more serious topics would come, but for now it was all avoided.

Severus was glad for that, he thought. He didn't think he could face the big stuff today. Not with a total stranger on an already stressful day like his first time at therapy.

Sooner than he thought, Doctor Anna Kingston was telling him there was five minute left, then it was time to go. The whole thing had felt both a week long and no more than ten minutes.

Time was weird.

Still, as Severus walked out to the apparition point in the lobby, he couldn't say he regretted today or the next appointment he made.

Maybe he really could be helped.

Chapter Text

“Hello again, Severus.” Doctor Anna Kingston smiled as the duo sat down.

“What do I call you?” Severus questioned, looking at the wall on the left side of the room which held a brown bookcase with a black filing cabinet on each side.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t keep saying Doctor Anna Kingston every time, it’s too long, annoying, and hurts my head…. So, what do I call you?”

“You can call me whatever you want. Doctor Kingston, Doctor Anna, Anna, Doctor K, and Doctor A are most commonly used.”

“Okay, Doctor Kingston.”

“How are you today, then? And what have you done?”

“Tired. Slept.”

“I believe that’s what you said last week too, isn't it?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s okay….Speaking of last week, you’ve experienced six full days between the last time I saw you and now, do you remember anything special or important you did?”

“No.”

“Well, what did you do?”

“Slept.”

“Anything else? I mean, I’m assuming you haven't slept for the past ninety-seven hours since you got out of our first meeting.”

“I mostly did….I was awake for maybe twenty, thirty hours of it.”

“Do you always sleep that much?”

“I guess.”

“You tend to speak in five or less words, except for the occasional two sentences in a row.” Doctor Kingston pointed out. “Is that common for you?”

“No.”

“How much do you typically speak outside of our sessions?”

“None.”

“None at all?”

“None.”

“Do you communicate nonverbally?” 

“No.”

“So, you just don’t communicate?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any friends?”

“No.”

“Have you ever?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“.....”

“What was their name?”

“Lily.”

“Why aren’t you friends anymore?”

“She’s dead.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. When did it happen?”

“October 31st, 1981.”

Doctor Kingston considered something for a few moments before asking her next question. “Are you talking about Harry Potter’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. How long were you friends? Like when did you become friends?”

“We were nine.”

“Were you friends until she died?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I called her a slur when we were sixteen.”

“Why did you call her a slur?”

“I know you know I was a Death Eater, in both wars. Everyone does.”

“I did know that.” Doctor Kingston admitted. 

“Then why are you surprised I said a slur? I murdered people.” Severus spit, a feeling of hatred and disgust he hadn’t felt in over a year flowing around his body through his veins as if it was blood. 

“Not at sixteen.”

“ Yes at sixteen ! At fifteen !”

“You took your first life when you were fifteen years old?” Doctor Kingston confirmed and Severus just knew she was going to kick him out, have him arrested, something.

“Yes!” He shouted, fighting against the tears welling up in his eyes.

“I am so sorry that happened to you.”

The dam broke.

Severus felt the tears flow down his face at the speed of a flood, chest shuddering, air barely coming in. He hadn’t really cried in front of anyone in two-and-a-half decades, hadn’t cried but from nightmares in fifteen years. This was more than crying, it was weeping, sobbing, bawling.

Severus felt humiliated, but also scared and confused, and….She was sympathetic to him even though he murdered someone at fifteen….That was below the last expected response.

“B-but I k-killed someone!” He protested, trying to wipe the tears away though it obviously wasn’t happening.

“I know. And you were just a child. You shouldn’t be blamed, whoever caused you to do that should be.”

“H-how do you know I d-didn’t just do it fo-for fun or-or something?”

“Because if you did you wouldn’t be crying right now. You wouldn’t feel bad about it. You probably wouldn’t be here, at therapy, at all.”

Severus didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. She was right, he didn’t do it for fun or because he wanted to otherwise. It was to stay alive, though he wished now that he just took the death.

Severus cried. He cried, he cried, he cried, and he cried some more. A couple times it stopped, just to begin again as soon as he tried to say anything. But, eventually, it was over. A red face, swollen eyes, and runny nose remained. But, no more tears.

“How are you feeling now?” Doctor Kingston questioned when she decided that he was in fact done crying for the moment.

“What do you think? Shitty as fuck.”

“Do you want to talk more about Lily?”

“I guess.”

“Can you tell me what happened during the event where you called her a slur?”

“It was OWL’s, so we were in fifth year. We were outside after finishing our charms OWL, during which I found out about my mother’s death. There was this group of people who bullied me all throughout school, and they came up to me and attacked me at that moment for no reason. I was just reading. They humiliated me, nearly suffocated me with soap bubbles, and pantsed me while holding me upside down in the air in front of the entire fifth year class, and many others from different years. Lily defended me, and I called her the muggleborn slur.”

“Why did you call her a mudblood?”

Severus flinched. “Can you say that?”

“Yes, though I will avoid it if you want.”

“Your slur, your choice.” Severus dismissed. “....I don’t know why I said it….I’ve never been anti-muggleborns, but I was surrounded by it a lot. I was frustrated and embarrassed and she was just making things worse. I shouldn’t have done it, I know, but….I don’t know.”

“Have you forgiven yourself?” Doctor Kingston asked, though she already knew he hadn’t.

“Forgiven myself?! I said a slur ! I don’t deserve forgiveness, from myself or anyone else!”

“You said a slur twenty-five years ago.”

“Twenty-three years and eight months, on the twenty-fourth.” Severus corrected.

“Which was, practically, two-and-a-half decades ago. It doesn’t matter anymore, the person you said it to is dead.”

“So I can just say whatever I want and the second the person dies it becomes okay? I don’t think so!”

“Of course not, but this isn’t the second she died. She died eighteen years ago, and you regret it. You’ve regretted it, I’m sure, since it happened.”

“The second it left my mouth.”

“Exactly! So, I promise, you can forgive yourself now. It doesn’t make you a bad person. I mean, no you shouldn’t have said that, but you can’t let it follow you forever.”

“Why not?”

“It’s making you miserable.”

“I deserve to be!”

“No, you don’t. But, it doesn’t matter if I say that, you won’t believe me. Anyway, you’re the one who has to decide whether or not you deserve to feel a certain way so you can then begin changing things.” Doctor Kingston informed, wishing she could change things on her own, but knowing that that wasn’t how things worked.

“Well, then, I decide I should be miserable.”

“And I can’t stop you.”

“She married him.” Severus said, after they sat in silence for a while.

“Who married who?”

“Lily married James Potter. The ringleader of the group.”

“Your best friend of seven years married the man who bullied you for seven years?”

“Yeah….They started going out at the beginning of sixth, told people they were dating near the end of sixth, but I don’t know when it changed from seeing each other to dating. Got married at twenty and had their baby a few months later.”

“And I know the rest.”

“Yeah.” Severus breathed out quietly. “Everyone does.”

“Did you like her? Romantically?”

“I don’t know….She was really more like my sister than anything, but….I don’t know.”

Doctor Kingston looked down, then sighed a little. “Five more minutes.”

“Already?” Severus was shocked, it hadn't felt nearly that long. More like twenty minutes, but he supposed it was because of the crying.

“Afraid so….Do you have anything else you would like to say or do before it’s time for you to leave?”

“No.” Severus said, but spoke again before Doctor Kingston could. “Next time, can we….Can we talk about the first murder.”

“The one when you were fifteen?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course, we can talk about whatever you want.”

“Okay.” Severus didn’t know what else to say so just decided to sit in silence for the rest of their allotted time. Today had been exhausting and he just wanted to get home and sleep, hadn’t even wanted to get up to come.

He was glad he had.

Chapter Text

“You wanted to talk about your first murder today, didn’t you?” Doctor Kingston remembered after pleasantries were done.

“I—yeah.” Severus hated the term ‘first murder’ being applied to him, but it was the truth. He had murdered people, so he wouldn’t protest….He used it too. 

“And you were fifteen? Was this in your fourth year, or fifth?”

“Fourth, I guess. And then the summer between.”

“So, you were barely fifteen, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to tell me the story, or talk about certain specifics? Or would you prefer the discussion go a totally different way? We don’t even have to talk about this today if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, I want to….I want to tell the whole story….You can ask questions if you must, but, otherwise, please don’t interrupt.” 

“Of course, go ahead.” 

“It started in my second year, over Christmas break, when I was twelve. Normally I stayed at school, but I went to the Malfoy Manor that year because Lucius Malfoy was a seventh year, and that year the seventh years were assigned a first or second year to look over and interview and stuff. I was Lucius’s.” As Severus told the story, he could picture it in his mind, making him less sure of if he could tell the story. 

“We were in the family library one day and I needed the toilet. The library had one, but it was under renovation, so I had to go down the hall. Lucius made me go alone, and, on the way, I stumbled upon this group of three Death Eaters. This was 1972, so they were probably part of the second generation of Death Eaters, I the third. Because of that I don’t know their names or anything.” He paused to give himself some time to breathe, and Doctor Kingston some to process everything.

“There were three, all men, and around thirty-forty, I would say. The only spells I knew were first year spells, first semester second year spells, and the ones I taught myself from my mother’s old spellbooks, from when she was allowed to do magic. Because she was a member of the Prince family, before marrying my father and being disowned, all the books had were these really messed up old, borderline illegal, curses.”  Severus felt immense disgust over what happened next, but knew he shouldn’t sugarcoat what either side did. 

“One of the men pinned me against the wall and I panicked. I had my wand and could just barely move my wrist. I knew nothing the school taught me would help, but my mom’s books….I used a spell that is meant to make your internal organs, and a couple external if you catch my drift, explode. Not only did it do this, but I performed it so hard, because of my high emotions, that he was slammed into the wall across the room knocking one of the others, who was behind him, unconscious as a result. The third was impressed, and I think a bit scared, so immediately dragged me a couple floors up to a room which had nothing but a man on a throne in it.”  

Severus paused long enough that Doctor Kingston decided speaking wouldn’t be considered interrupting in this case. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about something else and come back to this later.”

“No and no….Just give me a minute.”

“Okay.” She agreed, and, a couple minutes later, he did, indeed, continue the story.

“The man, as you may have guessed, was Voldemort, but he didn’t look like himself yet. I don’t really get it, but he still had hair, it was black. And he had a nose. His skin wasn’t quite as pale and his eyes a bit less…snake-like….I guess he looked human, but standing in front of him, you could tell he wasn’t. Not completely, anymore.” Severus had to fight not to gag at the memory, finding that he actually wished Voldemort had his later-in-life look at the time.

“I knew who he was, the war had just started a couple years prior, but he didn’t really have the same renown as he gained a few years later. I was scared either way, but knew I couldn’t show it. The man told him everything and he seemed…pleased….I kneeled, told him how much I respected him, though it wasn’t true, and said I hoped I could be a Death Eater in a few years. He said he agreed with the lattermost thing.” 

“It wasn’t until my fourth year, also during winter break, that he really approached me about it. I’m good at potions, always have been, and he knew that. Everyone did because the reason I wasn’t at school most of winter break in fourth year was because I was first taking the assessment to become a potions master, then being awarded for being the youngest ever. The youngest before me was a seventeen year old in 1889.” Severus was quite proud of that fact even though it was a leading part in him getting a teaching job he really didn’t want, and having to fight in the war.

“He cornered me one day and told me that, even though I was younger than any follower he ever had, I had the most promise at being the sort of potion brewer he needed. He gave me a list of ingredients and told me that if I correctly made that potion, an extremely difficult one that he desperately needed, he would let me be a Death Eater. I didn’t want to brew it, I didn’t want to be  a Death Eater, but I was fourteen and alone and he said he would kill me if it wasn’t done before I started fifth year, so I only had eight-and-a-half, at most, months. I didn’t think, didn’t even check the list, just agreed….I really wish I hadn’t, even if it killed me.” He actually wished Voldemort had killed him, then or later, but he couldn’t tell Doctor Kingston that yet, it was too early. 

“All the ingredients were hard to get, many were dark. Unicorn mane hair, two drops of the brewers blood, a used bezoar. The worst though, was the fifth ingredient.”

“Was it a human body part?” Doctor Kingston asked when he didn’t seem to be able to tell without prompting.

“Close.” He whispered. “A fresh veela heart.” 

Severus couldn’t speak a word for four minutes and twenty-two seconds, but then he began again as if nothing happened. “Veela aren’t common in Scotland, where I went to school, or England, where I lived. Most, in fact, live in France, Sweden, and Belgium. So, I had to wait until summer break, which was really cutting it close, especially because the potion had to simmer for a month before it could be bottled, and another day before it could be used.”

“Remember Lucius Malfoy? Well, he was twenty-one now and a Death Eater. We didn’t really know each other, but I was able to reach out. For some reason, I’ll never understand why, he agreed to take me to France for free, though he was already going or else likely wouldn’t have. I found this man—old, friendless, the last in his family alive—I thought if I had to kill someone, he was best. It was still really hard, but I did it. I put a strong sleeping potion into his morning tea, then Avada Kedavraed him in his sleep. It was the most merciful thing I could do, except leaving him alive, of course. I was born a natural Occlumens and my skills only strengthened with age as I had to learn to hide my emotions to keep from angering my father and bullies more than my general existence did. I put my walls up as strong as possible, but actually cutting into his chest, removing his heart, and putting it in a potion was nearly impossible.”

Severus hadn’t realized, but a slow stream of tears had begun falling from his eyes, Doctor Kingston decided not to tell him, sensing this moment was to be silent but what he said. Even if Doctor Kingston had the most important question ever asked, she still wouldn’t have. 

“I did it, though….I really did….Then I went back to the hotel and just sat there for a few days, waiting for Lucius to take me home. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t show disgust or anger or mourning. Because Voldemort would read my mind and see it and kill me and then it would all have been for nothing.”

“Did you ever tell anyone?” Doctor Kingston asked when she realized the story was over.

“Of course not. Who would I have told? I had one friend and she would have left me for that, wouldn’t have cared I would have died otherwise.”

“If she would have preferred you dead to an old lonely man in France, then perhaps she wasn’t really your friend. Or, at least, you weren't hers.” Doctor Kingston remembered another betrayal, a much more real one, Lily had done to Severus before, and was really starting to wonder if she should be treated with such high regard. 

“She was the best friend I ever had.” It was meant to be angry, but, because of the crying, it just made him sound sadder, more miserable. “The only one I ever had.”

“That doesn’t mean you were her friend. I’m not saying you weren’t, but Severus….When people who have been through trauma, or are going through trauma, have friends they tend to idolize them no matter what they do. When it’s only one friend, the only friend they’ve ever had, they do it even more. So, although Lily may not have been, even if she was utterly horrible to you, you would still see her as this perfect being and defend her.”

Severus’s head lowered. “So, you’re saying I’ve maybe never had a friend?”

“No, not at all.” Doctor Kingston assured. “I’m saying that when you look through past events, you have to remember you’re a trauma survivor. Because that changes things about the way your brain works and how you see people and events.”

“I think I was Lily’s friend….Even with my trauma being taken out….”

“Alright then, I’ll believe you.” 

“Why did you ask if I’d ever told anyone?” Severus eventually asked.

“Well, I know you’ve never seen a therapist before, but if you had talked to a friend, even wrote it in a journal, that would have been healthier than just bottling it up.”

“Isn’t that trauma dumping?” 

“Only if it’s unconsentual and makes the other person uncomfortable….And on purpose. If you’re just talking to someone and accidentally talk about trauma because you didn’t realize it was traumatic or they started it first, that’s not trauma dumping, you’re just trying to hold a conversation and your past got in the way.”

“Is anything else not trauma dumping?”

“Informing people of your trauma for your and/or their safety and/or comfort. So, let's say one of your triggers is people yelling, telling someone that you can’t handle yelling because of trauma, isn’t trauma dumping. Even being more specific like “I can’t handle yelling because of the abuse I went through as a child” isn’t trauma dumping, especially if they ask why.” 

“What if I do that and someone says I’m trauma dumping on them?”

“You can educate them on what trauma dumping is and isn’t if you want to, but the main focus is getting yourself away from them. They may not be safe because of it, or even purposely trigger you for one reason or another. The same applies if someone makes fun of the word ‘triggered’ as if it’s just not liking something and not a trauma response.”

“What if they make fun of it knowing it’s a trauma response? And that’s why they’re mocking it?”

“Then definitely avoid interacting with them in the future, no matter what. And warn others too. That kind of person is both toxic, and extremely dangerous to your mental, and possibly physical, health.”

“What exactly is a trigger? I mean, I know what it is, but more specifically.” Severus was still looking down, but wasn’t crying anymore, and was more conversational than either expected. 

“A trigger is something that reminds the person of past trauma and typically leads to sadness, distress, and/or panic. It may also cause flashbacks, dissociation, and/or a panic attack….Do you have anything that reminds you of the man we were talking about before?”

“Tea. I can’t drink it at all, and even being around black tea, what I put the potion in, makes me feel really sick. I usually leave the room if I can when someone drinks it, well did when I was around people.”

“Then tea, especially black tea, is one of your triggers.”

“How do I figure them out?”

“Mostly just by thinking about and observing what makes you feel sick or scared or just in general negatively reminds you of something that’s happened. Everything on that list are your triggers. Some you may only realize, unfortunately, later on when you have a reaction to them.”

“Can I get new triggers? Without more trauma?”

“Yeah, it’s not gonna happen a lot, but it could. If you, for example, learned a new fact about something that you’ve experienced, that new fact could be, or lead to, a new trigger.”

“Can they come out of nowhere? Like nothing happens, I don’t learn anything new, nothing. But, boom, I have a new trigger related to something?”

“Well it’s more likely you’ll learn about triggers that you already had, but didn’t know about, then new ones forming from nothing. But, I’m not saying it’s impossible. Even if that does happen, though, there’s a good chance it didn’t come from nowhere, you just didn’t realize something to trigger a new, well, trigger, happened.”

“Have you ever worked with someone who’s been through what I have? Abuse, bullying, two wars, etc.?” 

“Not someone who had been through all of it individually, no….Does that fact make you uncomfortable?” 

“No, just curious….I’m glad you haven’t, actually. Hopefully that means less of us exist, and that’s a good thing. People shouldn’t experience what I have….I think.”

“No, they shouldn’t….But, you do still deserve to exist because of it. I know you weren’t saying the existing ones don’t deserve to exist, just that they shouldn't have to because all the traumatic stuff shouldn’t have happened, but I still think it’s important to tell you that.”

“That I deserve to exist?”

“Yes.”

“You think I deserve to exist?”

“Yes….Do you?”

“Think I deserve to exist?”

“Yes.”

“No.” Severus easily admitted. Of course he didn't think he deserved to exist, and he didn’t think she should either. 

“Why not?” Doctor Kingston really wasn’t sure how he would answer, though wasn’t surprised by his prior response. 

“....” He didn’t respond because he couldn’t. How was someone supposed to put all of that into words? Especially comprehensible ones. 

“You don’t have to tell me, and it’s okay if you can’t.” She reminded. “What do you want to talk about now?”

“I don’t.” Severus found the honest answer.

“That’s okay, we don’t have to….Do you just want to sit in silence, or do you want an activity?”

“I wanna color.” They were once again surprised by the answer, and the fact that they said it aloud. 

“Do you want a piece of printer paper, construction paper, or a page from a coloring book?”

“Coloring book….I don’t care what it’s a picture of.”

Doctor Kingston handed them a picture of a puppy licking up ice cream off the ground before sitting back in her seat and opening the top drawer on the right side of her desk which Severus couldn't see from their side. “Pencil, pen, quill, crayons, coloring pencils, markers, or multiple of the above?” 

“Crayons.”

Severus was handed a twenty-four pack of Crayola crayons which didn’t seem to have been opened before. “Why is it so new?”

“I don’t get that many children as patients, and the few adults and teens that decide to color, usually don’t choose crayons.” Doctor Kingston was honest, she seemed calm on the surface, of course, but inside she was a little worried about what Severus would think about the difference between themself and others.

“That's boring. Coloring, especially with crayons, is fun.” They responded, but were barely paying attention. Right now it was much more important to figure out what colors they needed.

The dog had to be tan and the collar red, they knew that as soon as they saw the picture. If they had time to color the ground it would be gray because it was a sidewalk, and ice cream cones are brown. But, what about the eyes and ice cream?

They couldn’t decide if the eyes should be blue, or brown. Or maybe one of each. They considered green, but that reminded them of Lily and Harry Potter too much and that made them sad and they didn’t want to be sad right now.

As for the ice cream, it couldn’t be chocolate because choclate kills dogs and they didn’t want the dog to die, but….What else? Maybe strawberry, but could dogs have strawberry—how should they know, they'd never had a dog before?

“Anna?”

Doctor Kingston was shocked by the usage of her first name as, on the rare occasion Severus referred to her by name, it was always ‘Doctor Kingston’, but kept her composure and quickly responded. “Yes, Severus?”

“Can dogs have strawberry ice cream, or will it kill them?”

“Well, as for all human food, it isn’t the healthiest for dogs, especially if they eat a lot, but it won’t kill them. Or hurt them at all.”

“‘Kay.”

That was also surprising as Severus really didn’t seem the kind of person to short words, except, perhaps, contractions. 

“Thanks.” Severus suddenly continued, apparently just remembering to say it. 

“You’re welcome.” Doctor Kingston decided against commenting on the odd behavior in the moment, and just sat back to watch Severus color the last fifteen or so minutes of their session.

She was definitely, however, bringing it up next week.

Chapter Text

“Severus, can I ask you a question about last week?”

“Yeah.” He somewhat felt confused, but it was mostly fear….Had he done something wrong? Had she decided he was a horrible person for what he did to that veela? 

“Do you remember what happened at the end of the session? The coloring?” 

“Yes.” Was he not allowed to color? Did he do a bad job? Did she not want to work with an adult that colored in such a childish way, or at all?

“Do you remember how you changed?” 

“What?”

“Your behavior changed a bit.” She wasn’t entirely sure how to say this. “You called me Anna and asked if dogs could have strawberry ice cream….And I believe said ‘kay’.”

“Right.” The facts were fuzzy, but that did seem right….Why had he done that? It was so weird!

“I just want to know, does that happen often? Or at all before.”

“Not often….A couple times.”

“Can you describe it for me?”

Severus was more than hesitant….She would think he was so weird, but….He felt like he had to tell her, if just so he could get an explanation for it himself.

“My brain just gets…fuzzy….I can’t understand things as well, I guess….I feel sort of…little….”

“Little?”

“Younger….Much younger….And small and helpless….”

“Is it intentional?”

“No!” Severus full on yelped. “No, I swear. It just happens.”

“It’s okay, I was just asking….When was the first time this happened?”

“After the Battle of Hogwarts, I guess….It lasted a few days, but I just thought it was because of my injuries….Until it happened again a few months later.”    

“What do mean by you ‘feel like a little kid’?”

“I don’t know….It’s just like a younger mindset….I think about things the same way I remember thinking about them as a toddler.”

“Can you give me examples?” Doctor Kingston had an inkling about what was happening, but wanted to make sure she was completely right before bringing it up.

“Like I think I’ll be punished for stuff…more than usual. Or…I wanted and/or needed more kiddish stuff….Like bottles.”  Severus pretty much couldn’t blush anymore from the decades of constantly hiding his emotions, but he sure felt like he was….What kind of adult sometimes felt like a child and even wanted bottles?!

“Severus….Have you ever heard of age regression?”

“No….Is it bad?”

“It’s not bad at all….Age regression is a form of therapy that allows patients to access and relive traumatic events allowing them to heal. So, you do things like playing while being mentally younger to get through the trauma which caused your need for regression.” 

“....What?”

“Being a kid is an important part of being an adult. When you experience trauma as a kid such as abuse and/or bullying then it is harder for you to live as an adult. For many people this leads to them occasionally, or always, having a childlike mentality. You would still physically be an adult, but mentally, only a child. These people are called age regressors or littles, and the younger state of mind is called little space. Many littles inside little space like to do things like watching cartoons, using bottles, etc. Not regressing when you need to can cause a lot of stress, so it's important to make sure you have enough regression time.”

“But….I don’t control when I…regress.”

“You don’t, but it is occasionally possible to stop regression or to regress just because you want to….That might not come, however, until you’ve accepted your little side and are letting yourself exist in that state when needed. And when you’re able to realize it's needed.”

“What will happen to signal to me that I need to regress?”  

“You may feel irritated, emotional, confused. You’ll perhaps cry more often or be unable to think logically through situations you usually would be able to. Or you may just find yourself doing little things, like sucking your thumb or wanting to watch cartoons despite being big….Big meaning: not regressed....It’s also possible that you’ll sometimes want to do things like watching cartoons even if you’re big and don’t need to regress, it might just be fun and/or comforting for you.”

“And regression isn’t bad?”

“It’s not bad at all. Good if anything, despite the causation. I’m sure we’ll talk more about this in the future, but do you have anything else you want to discuss?”

“I think I just….I just want to color again….Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, this is your hour. We can do whatever you want….Besides, therapy isn’t just talking. Drawing seems to be therapeutic for you, and art therapy is a thing, no reason why you can’t do it during therapy.” 

“Don’t care what picture, crayons.” Severus didn’t know how else to respond, so just went with what he wanted.

“You did a dog picture last week, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about a cat today, then?” Despite asking a question, Doctor Kingston immediately sat down the same pack of crayons and a picture of  six kittens and a mama cat lying on a cat bed. “Do you like that?”

“Kitties.” Severus sounded mystified and couldn’t really explain why. They didn’t feel regressed, but they also didn’t feel big. “I like kitties.” 

“Have you ever had a kitty?” Anna’s voice was even gentler than usual, like she was talking to someone younger than Severus.

“No….No pets.” 

“Maybe you can get one.”

“....Maybe….”

“Are you okay, Sev?”

Sev .

Severus unconsciously smiled, just a little. “Yeah, kitties.”

Anna smiled back, though they couldn’t see it. “Alright, then.”

Severus didn’t respond, more focused on the cats in their picture than anything going on around them.

Still, they were pretty sure it was all good.

Chapter Text

“Gender.”

“What about it?” Doctor Kingston questioned, adjusting her white headband as it tried to fall off again .

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why gender? Just—why?” Severus didn’t really know how to explain what he meant, didn’t really know what he meant, he just didn’t get gender.

“Well, humans like to put each other in boxes, everything into boxes, because it makes it easier to understand. I suppose that leads to a lot of binaries and black and white thinking. That being said: humans often characterize things wrong because it's all so simple .”

“Huh?”

“Have you ever heard the tomato is a fruit VS. vegetable argument?” 

“Yes.”

“Some people claim it’s a fruit, others it’s a vegetable, but both are actually wrong, and right. Because a tomato is a fruit and a vegetable due to how it’s grown, its seeds, and the other plants it’s related to.”

“So…gender is tomatoes?” 

Doctor Kingston chuckled. “Essentially.” 

“I don’t like tomatoes.”

“Do you like gender?”

“ No. ” He really didn’t.

“Well then, I guess that makes sense….Why did you ask about gender?” She went back to the whole expressing and analyzing your thoughts and feelings thing, you know, her job. 

“I just….I don’t know, I don’t get it.”

“....Severus, do you remember how during the first session I asked you your pronouns? And you said He/Him?”

“Yeah.” Vaguely. “Why?”

“Is that still right? Or do you think you would like to be called something else?”

“I don’t….Well, I mean….” Severus was confused, didn’t feel confused, was confused. It wasn’t just an emotion, it was his whole state of being, for the moment. His brain spun a bit, with what seemed like clouds covering it and his chest felt concave.

His. His. His. 

“I don’t like gender.” He whispered. “It feels bad.”

“How does it feel bad?” Doctor Kingston adjusted volume to him, wasn’t whispering, but was definitely quieter. 

“It’s just….I have to be a man and I have to do man stuff and like man stuff and—I didn’t even get a choice in the matter, I just have to, and why? Because I have a penis?”

“But, you don’t have to be a man. And, whether or not you are one, you don’t have to do or like stereotypically masculine things. The world does tend to assume people’s gender, interests, and personality based on what they look like, but that doesn’t mean you have to conform to those assumptions.”

“But—I mean….I’ve heard about people who are born a certain way but end up being a different gender, transgender I think it’s called, but….I’m not a woman.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be a man.”

“Those are the only options.” He hugged his arms around his stomach, squeezing tight in an effort to release the dopamine provided by a hug, but it didn’t really work. “So, yes I do have to be a man….No matter how much it hurts.”

“But, they’re not the only options. Many people are neither men nor women, or are both. You can be too.”

“I can be something else?”

“Yes, it’s called being nonbinary. Some people just are nonbinary, that’s their gender, but nonbinary is also an umbrella term with lots of genders under it. So, a person may be nonbinary, but their actual gender be ‘agender’.” 

“Agender?”

“Someone who is agender doesn’t have a gender. I said their gender would be ‘agender’, but, actually, agender is just a word to describe their lack of a gender, so I suppose that isn’t entirely accurate.” 

Severus sat up straighter, eyes widening a bit, really only aware of the thumping of his heart and sick feeling in his stomach. “That’s an option?!”

“Yes….Do you think that could be what you are?”

“I—” Severus slumped down, arms returning to their previous position around his stomach. He didn’t know if he should tell Doctor Kingston the truth, or if he even was agender. In fact, he probably wasn’t, he was probably just trying to find a way to get more attention, that’s why he was here at all, wasn’t it? Because he wanted attention….It’s not like she could really help him, that anyone could, so there was no other reason to come.

He was such a horrible person.

“No.” He finally spoke again. “No, I’m not agender, or nonbinary at all….I’m a man.”

“I don’t want to lead you in either direction, but, Severus, it’s okay if you’re not a man. Whether you’re agender, some other form of nonbinary, or a woman, it's okay….But, it’s also okay if you are a man, okay?” 

“Okay.” Severus agreed just because he had to—when people said ‘okay’ you replied back the same, that was common courtesy regardless of how you really felt. “Yeah, of course I know that….It would be weird if I was anxious or something about something as dumb as my gender, or your perception of it.”

Doctor Kingston longed to tell him it wasn’t dumb, but that wasn’t really how she was supposed to do things—it didn’t work . “Why do you think it would be dumb or weird if you felt that way?”

“Because…..Because gender is so basic and…and….I’m not anxious about it.”

“Are you always anxious about your gender, or is it just sometimes? Or even just a right now thing?”

“I said I’m not anxious about it.”

“I know what you said.” And she, silently, refused to say anything else until he did.

Severus eventually caved, though it took him much longer than most people, as expected based on his past. “A little always, sometimes a lot, really a lot right now.”

“And how long has this been happening?”

“I don’t know….Like, forever.”

“Five minutes.” Doctor Kingston sighed after checking her watch in the vain hope they had more time left than she thought, though being met with disappointment. “Severus, what are your pronouns?”

“....I don’t know….”

“Can you spend the next week thinking about it, before our next session? It’s okay if you don’t figure it out in that time, but can you think about it?”

“Yeah, okay.”

A few minutes later, Severus left to go home as always, but he(?) felt different after the past hour. Like, perhaps, that was one part of him that wasn’t actually broken. That, perhaps, he wasn’t completely broken.

Gender sucked.

Chapter Text

“Good afternoon, Severus.”

“Hi, Anna!” Severus smiled, pulling their legs up under them on the chair.  

“How old are you today, buddy?”

“Uhhh….” Severus put their right thumb in their mouth to help them think, but then got distracted by sucking it.

“Severus?”

“What?” They didn’t remove their thumb so it came out a bit muffled, but Anna was still able to understand them.

“How old are you?”

“Oh, yeah.” They remembered. “Um….Three maybe? No! Four. I’m four.” 

“Oh, wow. You’re four?”

“Mhmmm.” Severus nodded proudly, placing their thumb back in their mouth after they had taken it how to say their age before.

“That’s so cool! What kind of things do you like to do?” Anna did her best to seem less professional and serious than she did around adult Severus so as to not scare the four year old, but also wanted to make sure she didn’t get too casual as she was still their therapist at the end of the day. 

“Um….Play?” They removed their thumb again, though seemed hesitant, so they could speak freely.

“You like to play?”

“....Yeah, except daddy said I’m too old.”

“When did daddy say you were too old to play?”

“Um….Always.”

“Were you ever allowed to play?” 

“No….Nothing to play anyway.”

“You didn’t have any toys?”

“No, never.”

“Do you now?”

“No….Body too big. Too old.”

“Why do you think you’re too old for toys and playing? At four, but also when you’re big?” 

“Because….Said so.”

“Who said so?”

“Everybody.” They whined crossing their arms frustration. “Daddy, then everybody.”

“Do you think they’re right?”

“I don’t wanna be too old….Playing’s fun.”

“Can I ask you a few question, Severus?” Anna leaned towards them a bit, she wasn’t sure why, but thought looking into it later could probably help her patients.

“Yeah.”

“Do you like playing?”

“Yeah.”

“Does it hurt you?”

“No.”

“Does you playing hurt others?”

“No.”

“Are you able to buy toys and stuffies and art supplies?”

“Yeah.”

“So, then, do you think playing is bad?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Cause daddy said so.”

“Do you believe everything daddy said to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Does that make you happy? What he said?”

“....No.” Severus sniffled. 

“Did what daddy say to you hurt you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did it hurt other people?”

“Yeah.”

“Is hurting people good?”

“No.”

“So, if hurting people is bad and daddy’s words hurt people then do you think what daddy said was good?”

“....No.”

“So, then, if daddy said that you were too old to play and what daddy said was bad then was daddy saying you were too old good?”

“....No.”

“What do you think, then? Are you too old?”

“....I don’t know…,” They whispered, now incredibly confused and sad. “Maybe….No….”

“You’re not too old?”

“No….Not….Not too old…maybe….”

“I have some toys you can play with if you want.” Anna offered, giving them a small smile to try and assure it was okay.

“Maybe just color.”

“What would you like to color?”

“Ice cream….With crayons.”

“Hows this picture?” Anna asked showing Severus a picture of a triple-decker ice cream cone with a cinnamon stick coming out the top.

“Oh, yes, please!”

“Here ya go then.” She handed over the picture and their usual pack of crayons. “Have fun!”

Severus giggled a little, searching through the box to figure out what types of ice cream they should color—there had to be three different types!

Severus ended up spending the rest of the session coloring, doing two more after the original, all three ice cream based. It might not have been the most productive day ever, but it was nice, and allowed them to begin breaking down what their father said.

It was good.

Chapter Text

I'm just here to say that there is a chance I will lose this account and be unable to continue updating. If that does happen, I'm deeply sorry, I really like this fic and my others. It will also suck because it would be the second ao3 account I've lost this year. If I don't lose the account I'll probably delete this. I just wanted to let y'all know because I wasn't able to warn people when I lost my old account and I feel really bad about it. Hopefully, nothing happens, but we'll have to see. Much love-Alex(Iwanttogotosleep)

Chapter Text

“Do you have anything in particular you’d like to talk about today?” Dr. Kingston questioned once Severus was settled into his chair.

“Um…yeah.”

“What is it?”

“Something that happened last night….I don’t know if it's worth talking about ‘cause I can’t remember most of it, but…it seemed like a good idea…maybe.”

“You don’t have to remember all the details of something to talk about it. If you want to, you can. I believe I’ve told you before, but this is your hour and you can say and do whatever you want during it.”

“Okay.” Severus purposefully inhaled, nodding to encourage himself, before beginning. “I went to the toilet last night…because I needed the toilet…but I started having…flashbacks….I think….” 

“What do you mean you think you were having flashbacks?”

“Well, I—I’m not entirely sure I know what flashbacks are.”

“Ah. Flashbacks are sort of similar to flashbacks in a book, except less nostalgic for the person. It’s where your brain forces you to remember and think about things that happened in your past, usually traumatic moments. You can have flashbacks without any particular disorder, but they’re very common with PTSD.”

“Do I have PTSD?”

“Well, we’ve just started talking so I don’t know that much about you and your mental health yet, but I honestly can’t comprehend a world where you don’t have PTSD, if not C‒PTSD, after everything you’ve been through.”

“C‒PTSD?”

“C‒PTSD is like PTSD except PTSD is often caused by one traumatic event, while C‒PTSD comes from trauma that lasted for months or years. C‒PTSD also comes with some extra symptoms, or enhanced symptoms. It means complex post traumatic stress disorder.”

“Oh….Can I go back to my story now?”

“Of course!”

“Um, well….Well, I was having flashbacks and so I just tried to—to…to finish quickly, then went back to my room, but, um….Well, it didn’t stop. I sorta…hid under my covers and tried to breathe and stuff, but it didn’t work….I just kept thinking and hyperventilating and…until I fell asleep and woke up an hour ago.”

“Is that all you remember?”

“My heart was beating so fast it felt like I had run a marathon or something…that’s not a hyperbole….That’s all I remember.”

“Okay. Can I ask some questions?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember though, you don’t have to answer anything that you don’t want to. We can wait to address something later, or not at all, if you want. Okay?” Dr. Kingston informed him, waiting a few seconds for an answer.

“....Okay.” Severus agreed, but wasn’t entirely sure if he would actually put that in play. Would not answer something she asked no matter what it was. He didn’t want to disappoint her.

“Do you remember falling asleep?”

“No.”

“Do you remember what you dreamed about?”

“No.”

“Do you remember anything about the dream? How it made you feel?”

“No, nothing.”

“That’s okay, I just wanted to see. How…how does thinking about those moments make you feel?”

“I don’t know….A little scared I guess, a bit ashamed….It’s hard to figure out….”

“Can you tell me how your body feels?” Dr. Kinston questioned, jotting down ‘scared/ashamed’ on a notebook as in his original paperwork Severus said he was okay with physical notes, but not with a computer.

“When I think about it?”

“Yeah.”

“Um….My chest feels kinda…tight….And my shoulders…ache….And my head feels…hot and…owie….”

“Can you describe ‘owie’?”

“Um…no….Sorry….”

“It’s okay, we can figure it out together. Do you want to do that now, or later?”

“....Later….”

“What would you like to do now? I don’t have any more questions.”

“....I have a question….”

“Anything.”

“You asked a couple weeks ago what my pronouns are…right?”

“Right.”

“Well….Well….What are the okay ones?”

“What do you mean by ‘the okay ones’?”

“....The ones I’m allowed to use.” It seemed obvious to Severus, but he didn’t say that because he didn’t want her to hurt him.

“You’re allowed to use any pronouns you want.”

“Even….Even They/Them?”

“Yes, They/Them is fine.” Dr. Kingston assured.

“Except I think my father wouldn’t approve.”

“I see that as a benefit if anything, but, the thing is, Severus, you're an adult and your father has been dead for…well, he’s dead. What he thinks doesn’t matter anymore. Never really did.”

“Twenty-one years, nine months, and sixteen days, including today.”

“That’s how long he’s been dead?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you remember?”

“Alexandre Duval: Twenty-four years, nine months, and six days; Tobias Snape: Twenty-one years, nine months, and sixteen days; Mia Smith: Twenty years, eight months, and nine days….Well, you get the point. I remember the name and death date of every person I’ve murdered.” 

“Is Alexandre Duval the veela? And Tobias Snape your father?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s Mia Smith, though?”

“A muggle, I don’t know much about her. She witnessed some Death Eater stuff I was involved with. I just wanted to obliviate her, but Voldemort made me murder her. Said Alexandre Duval was my initiation, and my father was a passion kill, but Mia Smith would be my first real murder. That if I didn’t do it he would assume that I wasn’t really loyal and would kill me.”

“So, you didn’t kill Mia Smith, Voldemort did.”

“No, I did it. I, figuratively, pulled the trigger.”

“You didn’t have a choice, same as Alexandre Duval, and I’m sure most of your kills. The only person I’ve heard of so far that you actually killed was your father, and honestly, I can’t blame you.”

“I could've chosen death instead, what right do I have to decide who gets to die? Why do I get to put my life above everyone else's? Make myself worth more?”

“You have no right too, but, Severus, you were a child . You were only twenty-one when the first war ended, and participating in the first war meant you had to in the second. You’re a war criminal, yes, but also only fifteen, only fourteen, only twelve .”

“I feel like not murdering people should be pretty obvious, even to a twelve year old.”

“How old are you?”

“Forty.”

“More specifically.”

“Including today?”

“Yes.”

“Forty years, two months, and three days.”

“How old was your father when he died?”

“Forty years, nine months, and ten days.”

“And your mom? When she died?”

“Thirty-five years, five months, and twenty-seven days.”

Dr. Kingston was quiet for nearly a minute before speaking again. “So, you’ve outlived your mother and are almost exactly the same age as your father was when he died?”

“....Yeah….So?”

“So, what? What do you think that means?”

“My family is unlucky?”

“Maybe….You’re still alive, right?”

“Biologically.”

“So, you just need to survive another nine months and thirty days.”

“Until my forty-first birthday? Then I should die?”

“I’d like you to keep living past then, but no. Until your forty-first birthday, until you’ve survived about three months longer than your father.”

“Why do I need to survive longer than him?”

“How often did he tell you he knew better because he was older? Because he had more life experience?”

“At least bi-weekly.”

“Well, then you’ll be much older than him and certainly will have more life experience as you’ll be alive and he’ll be dead . Age has nothing to do with knowledge or experience, but…well, vindication can be fun.”

Severus was so shocked they couldn’t help but laugh, just for a second. “Alright, Anna .”

Dr. Kingston grinned back, before shrugging. “I wanna win too."

Chapter Text

“Monday is the Full Moon.” Severus informed before Dr. Kingston could ask her customary “how has your week been?” and their own “fine, normal” .

“Is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I track it….It’s the 18th next month.”

She thought about that for a moment, maybe analyzing their words, maybe doing the mental math, Severus wasn’t sure. “Why do you track the Full Moon?”

They could tell her about Remus, about The Prank , or about the fact that the moon cycle and different types of rocks were all their elementary science classes taught, year after year, as all were accurate, but…which? The first two were maybe more therapy-ish, but the third didn’t deserve to be ignored, it influenced their life for six years, after all.

“I don’t like Full Moons.”

“You’re not a werewolf, are you?”

“No.”

“So, why do you dislike it?”

“It used to be my favorite, before Hogwarts. Especially before sixth year. I thought it was pretty.”

“What happened your sixth year?”

Severus shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. But, it was. “I came face-to-face with a transformed werewolf.”

“How did that happen?”

“One of my classmates, one of The Marauders, the group that tormented me….His boyfriend told me to go to where he stayed while transformed during the moon, as a ‘prank’. Nothing happened, James Potter…saved me, but….I don’t like Full Moons.”

“That’s horrible. Both for you and your classmate.”

“I might not be a very good person, but I would never do that to my partner….I could have done anything, gotten him expelled, murdered, worse….I wouldn’t do that, but I could have , especially since, from his perspective, I supported Voldemort at the time.”

“Did they break up?”

“Not for a few years. Not until his boyfriend thought he the traitor because he was a werewolf. ‘Course his boyfriend, the whole world, really, thought he was the traitor, which The Prank couldn’t have helped, but….”

“The traitor?”

“To the Order of the Phoenix….It ended up being Peter Pettigrew….I don’t know why I’m censoring Black and Lupin’s names, they’ve both been dead for nearly two plus years….Lupin one year, ten months, and sixteen days, Black three years, nine months.”

“No days?”

“No, he died June 18th, 1996.”

“Lupin was the werewolf, right? I think I read about it in the paper in ‘94. Got fired from Hogwarts because of it, right?”

“Yeah….I’m not angry at Lupin or anything, but….That shit’s traumatizing as fuck, but literally everyone ignores it, acts like I’m being dramatic.”

“You’re definitely not. You’re right, you were in a life-threatening situation, that’s traumatizing. It doesn’t matter if the person has no control over their actions or not—you wouldn’t call a person dramatic for not liking trains after nearly being run over by one, this is the same.”

“Except I wouldn’t have to interact with a train in class and at meals everyday.”

“Exactly.”

“....Everything seems so much more trivial when I come here….I’ll be anxious or depressed or having flashbacks or whatever and I’ll finally feel validated, but the second I walk into your office it all goes away, I feel perfectly fine.”

“I’ve had people tell me that before. I was never actually given a reason during school and research on the topic is limited, so it’s hard to figure out. But, my best guess is that it’s a psychological effect to seem better. In your home it doesn’t really matter what you’re like, but when you go out in public, which for you is mostly just seeing me, you want to seem more quote-unquote ‘normal’, so your brain temporarily gets rid of the symptoms to aid that. It’s trying to help, but ultimately is only making you feel worse and your care harder.”

“I also have less to say….When I think about these sessions I have a million ideas, and in general I have tons of stuff we could talk about, but when I’m actually here….Well, right now I really just want to play.”

“I have toys in that cabinet over there,” Dr. Kingston pointed, “in a green box at the bottom. You can play with as many of them as you want, whenever you want.”

Severus glanced between the doctor and the cabinet a few times before willing themself to walk over, pulling out two cloth dolls, one with purple hair the other with orange, and a car that would just barely fit them, and then sat on the floor.

Throughout the last thirty minutes they grabbed a few more toys, putting them up when she told them there were five minutes left.

Before exiting the room, Severus looked at Dr. Kingston one last time before whispering: “Thank you.” and leaving.

Chapter Text

“How has your week been?” Doctor Kingston asked as ever.

Severus twirled a piece of their shoulder-blade length hair in their right hand, the left gripping their jeans. “If you don’t cut your hair for long enough it stops growing.”

“That’s right.”

“Because it breaks and falls out.”

“Yeah, because of split ends.” She nodded. “Is there a point to this?”

“My hair is long.”

“When was the last time you cut it?”

They shrugged. “Sometime.”

“Sometime when?”

“In the past.” Then they added, “I hope.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll happen again in the future.”

“Maybe.”

“Who cuts your hair?”

“Me.”

“Has it always been you?”

They nodded again. “Mommy wasn’t good at it….She can’t now, she’s dead.”

Dr. Kingston was shocked by the word they chose at first, before realizing. “Severus, how old are you?”

“He did it, you know. Daddy. He murdered her.”

“Sev?”

“I told the police, but they wouldn’t believe me.”

“Sev?” She repeated.

“That’s why I had to kill him—he killed my mommy.”

“I need to know your age, if that’s okay.” She kept trying. She was expecting more of a fight, but Severus had apparently said what they needed to, and so gave an actual response.

“I don’t know….I’m a girl.”

“Always or just right now?”

“Now….Usually nothing, I think….Girl now.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s okay. If you’re a girl now, you’re a girl. No big deal.”

“Yeah.” They really didn’t seem too interested in what she had to say.

“Are you sure you don’t know how old you are?”

“Four, think. Hard. Tired.”

“I’ve just noticed, you have a bit of a lisp when you’re little. Do you know why?”

“No lisp. Rhotacism.” They didn’t pronounce the ‘r’. “Cause have it.”

“You have rhotacism?”

“Yeah.”

“How come I usually can’t hear it?”

“Trained out. Hard hide when little.”

“You don’t ever have to hide it from me if you don’t want to.”

Severus just shrugged before sliding from their chair to the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Nap. Sleepy.”

“I don’t know if fifty minutes is enough to nap.”

“Is.”

“Well okay then. It’s your time, you can nap if you want. But, at least take these.” She pulled out a couple covers and a pillow.

Severus took them, but didn’t do anything, just stared.

“Do you need help?”

A sleepy nod punctured by a yawn.

Dr. Kingston first laid down the green blanket and pillow, letting Severus lay on them before draping the blue blanket over his body.

They were asleep in seconds and she went back to her desk to do paperwork. Maybe not the most conventional therapy appointment, but Severus’s time was Severus’s time.

Could be worse.

Chapter Text

“It’s the first of the month.” Severus had grown to love being the first to speak in the sessions. Dr. Kingston was always saying this was their hour, so they would be the one starting it off, thank you very much.

“That it is.” The doctor agreed. “How do you feel about that?”

“The first day of Hogwarts is in exactly five months. It’ll be a Friday, so they’ll have a two day break before the first day of classes.”

“Do you know anyone starting Hogwarts this year?”

“I don’t know anyone at all.” Severus sighed. “Except you.”

“Maybe we should fix that.”

“What?”

“We should fix that, we should get you meeting people, making friends. It’s important for you to have social interaction outside of me.” 

“Why?”

“Lots of reasons. It’s good for brain health, gives a sense of safety and security, lends arms to fall into if you, metaphorically, can’t stand any longer.”

“Seeing you is already doing that.” They revealed. “I—I ate a fried bologna sandwich on toast and drank some Mountain Dew yesterday.”

“That’s amazing, Severus.” Dr. Kingston seemed genuinely proud. “What do you usually eat?”

“Not much.” Severus shrugged. “Graham crackers, thirty year old canned fruit and vegetables, and…salt. And other stuff.”

“Other stuff?”

“Not food stuff.”

“What sort of non-food stuff?”

“Styrofoam, peeling paint from my walls, plastic bags. Real anything, but mostly that stuff.”

“It sounds like you might have pica.” 

“....I’ve considered that….But I probably don’t.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“Always, as far back as I can remember. And maybe before then.”

“So: you’re eating non-foods, it’s been happening for a substantial amount of time, you’re old enough that it isn’t out of curiosity or naivety, and you wouldn’t be doing it for social or cultural reasons. Unless you have nutrient deficiencies not caused by the eating in of itself, or it’s specifically caused by a mental health condition, which I doubt, you have pica.”

“Does that even mean anything? I mean, does it matter if I have pica or not, or if I know either way.”

“There are different types of therapy to treat it. I won’t do mild aversion therapy, it feels too cruel, and behavioral therapy has never benefited me, my patients I mean, in pica cases. But differential therapy has helped.”

“What’s differential therapy?”

“Avoiding something, in this case eating non-foods, by doing something else. Like eating food with a similar texture and/or taste to the non-food you’re craving, or if you’re not actually hungry, just craving it, then distracting yourself with another activity. Coloring for example.”

“It sounds hard.” Severus was hesitant to say that, sure it would make her think they were weak or something, but she nodded.

“It is. All therapy is. But it’s important to treat pica, even if recovery isn’t possible.”

“Recovery isn’t possible?”

“Well, curing it isn’t. But, you can go into remission, which isn’t so different from recovery. It’s just…not necessarily forever. You’re in remission if you stop eating non-foods, as long as you only eat food you’re in remission, but you can technically always go back to those behaviors, so it’s not really curing.”

“Oh….Did you want to be called Anna?”

“Want to? Well, I was an infant so I suppose not, but I’m glad for it. I can’t imagine a name fitting me any better than Anna does.”

“You’re definitely an Anna.” They agreed.

“Do you feel like a Severus?”

“Do you think I’m a Severus?”

“I don’t think you’re not, but….” Dr. Kingston trailed off. “It’s not necessarily the be-all and end-all.”

“Being with you has made me better.” They paraphrased their words from before. “And not just about diversifying my food; and going shopping to do it.”

“How so?”

“I’m awake more. I think more. I think.”

“About your name?”

“Amongst other things.”

“What sort of things about your name?”

“My middle name is Tobias and so I considered changing it to Eileen. It’s my mother’s name. But then I thought that maybe I don’t want a family name, and maybe….Maybe my trauma and how horrible my father was has blinded me to the truth of my mother; perhaps she really wasn’t so good.”

“Perhaps she wasn’t.”

“And then I thought maybe Lily, but it didn’t feel right. Right for me to have it.”

“That’s fair.”

“And, of course, that got me thinking about how everyone in her family had flower names. She was Lily, her sister Petunia, her mom Primrose. And so I sort of wanted a plant name.”

“And why not?”

“My first thought was Rose or Rosemary, but that is too similar to Primrose. And then I thought Indigo, but I believe the Diggory kid has been insisting on being called that. I suppose I’d change my name too if I was named after my dead older brother, but from what I’ve heard, which isn’t much, it’s more of a trans thing. Violet came next, but Viola sounds better, but Viola is an instrument. I don’t like typical stuff like Daisy. The Hogwarts healer is called Poppy, and I had a student called Lavender. Iris and Dahlia and Zinnia are beautiful, but….Not me.”

“Sounds hard.”

“And through all that all I was thinking about was Diana, but that’s not a flower. And then Ivy, which is a plant and does flower, but isn’t exactly the same.”

“And then?”

“And then I imagined being called Ivy Diana Snape.”

“How did it make you feel?”

“Like I wasn’t nearly pure enough for such a name….But like I wanted to be….Like I wanted to be Ivy Diana.”

“You can be Ivy Diana if you want.”

“It’s like a brand new start.”

“And you want a new start?”

“I need one….Ivy Diana, They/Them, forty year old potioneer who goes to therapy and tends to a garden and—I want to move. To a new place. I’d sell my house, but I’d have money from my teaching days and little inheritance anyway, and I’d buy a house in a nice neighborhood with nice people. A place that was clean and sweet and where people would get concerned if I didn’t leave my house for two years. Two weeks, even. And it’d be in a non-magical area so people didn’t know me and I would be a chemist as far as anyone knew and I’d have a cat and maybe in a few years, five or six, I could have a….Well, never mind that last thought.”

“What was your last thought?”

“Well, perhaps I’d have a kid.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. After five or six years of therapy, if you get diagnosed and medicated if necessary, you move and start a new, better life, well I think if after all that you want a kid, you should have one.”

“But my age regression—”

“Might be resolved by then. Or you might be able to take days away from the child to regress. If you had a parenting partner or got a babysitter….Well all parents need a break sometimes. No reason why yours can’t sometimes, or always, involve age regression.”

“You really think so?”

“I really do.” She spoke again a few minutes later when Sev—Ivy Diana didn’t. “Five more minutes.”

“I think I’ll leave now.” They stood. “Thank you…Anna…very much.”

She responded, even though they couldn’t hear her. “You’re welcome.” 

Chapter Text

“How have—”

“I got a cat.” Ivy Diana interrupted. 

“Oh?”

“A boy, orange and white. I named him Citrus and he’s two months old and I love him.”

“Eight weeks old, or?”

“Ten.”

“Ah, so two-and-a-half months, then.”

“Yeah. He’s super fluffy and I think long-haired, but I can’t say for certain, especially since he’s so young.”

“Aww.”

“I love him.”

“I can tell.”

“I feel bad for leaving him alone, but I had to come here and I couldn’t bring him and I don’t know anyone…that might change soon, though.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been working with a magical realtor who’s working with a non-magical realtor to try and get me a house in a small town near Central London. I’m looking at a couple, but I like this one particular one that has four bedrooms and five bathrooms. It’s not huge, but definitely big enough for me, Citrus, and…and maybe a partner and kid, once I get there.”

“That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you!”

“I really want to get better. I really want to be happier and healthier. But, it’s so scary. I don’t—I’ve never been truly healthy, physically or mentally. I don’t know who I’d be when better. I’m….I’m scared that without disorders, or at least with them managed and treated, I won’t be anything or anyone anymore.” 

“That’s a very common fear, but you are someone, you just have to discover who. I’m not going to lie to you and say it’ll be easy, but I can say it’s worth it.”

“I miss hash browns….Haven’t had one since before I started Hogwarts.”

“Why not buy some?”

“I don’t….I don’t know.”

“Maybe that can be something you try and do before you see me next? Buy and eat some hash browns.” 

“....Perhaps.”

“Do you have anything else you would like to talk about?”

“I would like to play with blocks.”

“You know where they are.” Anna nodded towards the cabinet as Ivy Diana stood up. “Do you want to listen to music?”

“Sure.”

“What kind?”

“Whatever….Is Queen an option?”

“Yup!”

“Queen’s my favorite. Has been…well, always.” 

“Hmmm. Good to know.”