"I was sorted into Slytherin House. We're not exactly known for emotional demonstrativeness."
"I beg to differ. My family has been sorted exclusively into Slytherin House for the last six centuries. Hiding behind Slytherin's bad press will get you nowhere with me. I know the strengths and weaknesses of that great house."
"What would you have me say? That I burned with envy and hate every time my classmates received gifts from home and I didn't get so much as a letter?" Severus sneered.
"Is that the truth?" Penbroke asked, back to that mild tone.
Annoyed at having been tricked, Severus snapped, "Yes. But I don't see what any of this has to do with why I came to you."
"Why don't you let me judge what's relevant to the issue," Penbroke suggested. "Tell me about your school years. It can't have been easy for a half-blood student to have been sorted into Slytherin."
When Severus didn't answer immediately, Penbroke prodded, "I can't help you if you won't level with me. I'm not here to judge you; I'm here to help. I can't do that if you won't work with me."
"I don't understand why you need to hear all this," Severus confessed after a long, stubborn silence.
"If someone came to you for a potion to cure a physical malady, wouldn't you need to have all the details of their problem before you could brew them the cure they needed?" Penbroke challenged. "Would you brew a potion for, let's say, heart palpitations without first checking to ensure that the person wasn't taking some type of drug that might have caused the problem?"
"No, I suppose not."
"Then how can you expect me to operate blindly here? I don't know a thing about you, except what you tell me. I don't have a magic wand to cure what ails you. The only way I can do that is by helping you examine your life and help you discover a means to work around the problems that are keeping you from achieving your goals."
"My goals?" Severus croaked.
"Well, it sounds like your immediate goal is to work through whatever traumas were caused by your captivity. Does that sound right?"
"But we're not talking about those subjects," Severus protested.
"We'll get there. First I need to know who you were before the incident that changed your life."
Tiring of the probing, Severus' temper got the better of him. "I was a social leper before what you call 'the incident that changed my life'. In the forty-eight years I have been alive, I have had only one wholly good thing happen to me – the young man who shares my life now. Because of what was done to me in January, I am in danger of losing him. That is what has brought me here. I – I haven't been able to have sex with him since my recovery. I came to you because I was told you could assist me with this type of problem -"
Severus felt ashamed and horrified to be admitting these things to a stranger. But, after having screwed up his courage to come here, he didn't know what he would do if this man couldn't help him.
"And I will assist you. I promise. But you have to work with me," Penbroke interrupted. "Tell me, how did you expect me to help you?"
"I – I don't know. I've never been to a Muggle psychiatrist before."
"And yet, you knew enough about us to make that crack about the stereotypical questions we ask." At his no doubt blank expression, Penbroke reminded him, "The comment you made about psychiatrists asking their patients about their relationships with their mothers."
"I suppose I overheard Muggle-born students making jokes about it over the years."
"Well, the jokes weren't all wrong. We have to ask a lot of questions to get the information we need to help our patients. For example, just a moment ago, you claimed to be a social leper. Was that an exaggeration?"
Recognizing that, although the man might be a Squib, Penbroke certainly displayed every indication of the tenacity that had no doubt placed his family members in Slytherin for the last few centuries. Stifling a sigh, Severus answered, "No. If you must know, I was loathed and tormented by most of my fellow students throughout my school years. Very little has changed over the years, except that there is no open ridicule these days."
"You said 'most of your fellow students'. Not all of them?"
Severus debated the wisdom of answering honestly. After some consideration, he met those waiting brown eyes and decided to try to shock him with the truth. "There were several older boys in Slytherin who did not tease me. They . . . well, in retrospect, it seems that they preyed upon me sexually."
"I see," Penbroke said into the heavy silence that followed his disclosure.
Severus felt a childish burst of victory. He often employed that expression himself when he was at a loss for words.
"You said 'in retrospect'," Penbroke said after a moment's consideration. "What did you think at the time?"
Severus thought back to those early years at school. James Potter and his mob had made his life a living hell, but the time he'd spent with Lucius and his cronies had made up for the endless taunting.
"That they were my friends," Severus said. "That illusion was shattered in sixth year when I overheard them discussing me and realized that they thought little more of me than a prostitute."
"That must have been very painful, Severus. May I call you Severus?"
He gave a tight nod.
"How do you feel about those young men now?"
"What?" Severus was nearly startled by the question.
"You believed they were your friends. You must have been very hurt to discover their intentions weren't honourable."
"It was over thirty years ago. What can it matter now?" Severus snapped, thinking that he shouldn't have brought up the subject at all.
"It always matters," Penbroke said.
"I'd really rather not discuss this right now," Severus said.
"All right. What would you like to discuss instead?"
"Whatever it is I need to do to get better," Severus replied.
"As I mentioned before, you need to talk to me. Would you like to tell me about your young man?"
"Why?" Severus asked, not entirely able to conceal his suspicions.
"You said he was the only good thing that happened to you in your life. I'd like to hear about him."
Severus considered the risks of being honest on this topic. He knew that the scandal sheets would pay even a Malfoy's idea of a fortune for insights into the Boy Who Lived's love life. While he'd seen nothing in Penbroke's attitude to make him suspect the man had nefarious intentions, he couldn't risk opening Harry to such scrutiny.
After a long pause, he carefully offered, "He is young and handsome, strong and kind. He is all that is good and wonderful in this world."
"It sounds like you care very deeply for him," Penbroke said.
He'd already told the man that Harry was the reason he was here. There could be no harm in admitting he cared. "I . . . do."
"You can call him by his name if that would make it easier to talk. You can even make up one, if you're not comfortable disclosing his real name," Penbroke suggested.
Severus considered the option of giving Harry a false name, but then realized how difficult it would be to keep up the pretext. Deciding that there were enough Harrys in Britain to risk using his lover's first name, he offered, "His name is Harry."
"I imagine what you've been going through hasn't been easy on Harry, either," Penbroke said, the words an opening.
Severus gave another negative shake of his head. "I've been very difficult to live with."
"Have you been quarrelling?"
"No, he has been the soul of patience," Severus answered.
"But you said that you were in danger of losing him," Penbroke reminded.
"He isn't even thirty years old. How long can a man that young remain trapped in a sexless relationship?" Severus voiced the fear that had been chilling his soul these last few weeks.
"I imagine the answer to that question would depend upon how much he loves you. Do you feel pressured to do things you're not ready to handle yet?"
"No, we're . . . taking baby steps," he felt a little ridiculous using Harry's terminology with a stranger. But Penbroke didn't feel like a stranger. There was something about the mild-mannered Squib that invited confidences. Thinking back on the things he'd openly revealed in this brief interview, Severus couldn't help but wonder if there weren't some kind of magic at work here. He simply couldn't believe the things he'd told Penbroke about his parents and the unsavoury associations of his schooldays.
"Baby steps?"
"I . . . react badly to being touched. Harry thought if we proceeded very slowly, increasing the contact in incremental steps, that it would help ease me through the problem."
"It sounds like a very wise approach. Is it working?"
"It's helping, but . . . ." Severus found his nerve failing him.
"But?" Penbroke gently prodded.
Taking a deep breath, he voiced the heart of his problem, "But when things reach a certain level of . . . intimacy, I consistently freeze up. I . . . haven't been able to get past that."
"Many rape victims experience that same problem," Penbroke offered.
The information was, of course, no help. What he was looking for was the way around it.
His disappointment must have shown on his face, for Penbroke continued with, "Coming here is the first step towards healing. Let's look at the problem for a moment and try to determine if there is anything in specific that triggers your reaction."
"You mean aside from the fact that I am engaged in sexual activities?"
His sarcasm didn't ruffle Penbroke at all. The man simply smiled and said, "Aside from that. Is there any action in particular that makes you react that way?"
"Are you asking for details of my sex life?" Severus was scandalized.
"I'm asking you to consider what is happening at the time you react that way. Sometimes, there is a specific trigger involved. It can be so simple as a kiss or being touched in a certain area. Is there any common element that occurs when you experience this freeze, or is it just the prospect of having sex itself that causes it?"
Finally seeing where Penbroke was headed, Severus considered the questions. "Initially, it was the prospect of . . . being penetrated."
"Do you commonly engage in activities that lead to being penetrated?"
Feeling the heat in his face, Severus gave a tight nod. He knew what the Wizarding World thought of men who allowed themselves to be taken.
"Prior to being raped, did you enjoy those activities?"
The bluntness startled him, enough so that he actually met the other man's eyes. Once again, search as he would, he could find no trace of judgment in Penbroke's open features. "Harry prefers to be on top, and I . . . have always preferred the other role. Our needs have always complemented each other."
"And how do you feel about being taken now?" Penbroke asked.
Severus swallowed hard. He didn't know what he'd expected their initial interview to be like, but it wasn't this. Remembering that Penbroke had said his cure would depend on his ability to be honest, he was determined to do his best to answer whatever questions the man put to him. "I want things to be the way they were. I want to be able to give Harry what I used to give him."
"That's a noble sentiment, but you didn't answer my question. How do you feel about being taken now?"
"I . . . the idea . . . ." Severus didn't think that he'd ever openly admitted to something frightening him. Staring at that icy coldness inside, he finally answered, ". . . is difficult."
"Have you discussed this with Harry?"
Another negative shake of his head and reluctant, "No."
"Why not?"
"Because I have to get over it. I want things to return to normal."
"I'm not saying this will happen, but what if you find you can never enjoy your former role again?" Penbroke asked.
Severus gulped at hearing his worst fear given voice. "Then I will lose him."
"Is that a foregone conclusion?"
"What man would stay in a situation where he will never achieve sexual satisfaction?" Severus snapped.
"There are other means of satisfaction beyond the single action you mentioned earlier," Penbroke said. Severus had the feeling he was voicing his suggestion so discretely in deference to his own sensibilities.
"Yes, and we used to engage in them as well. But that was our . . . preferred method of lovemaking."
"And you believe your lover will leave you if you are unable to engage in this activity for any length of time?"
Severus could only nod.
"Yet, you said it's been five months since you had sex at all, and he is still there. That seems to indicate that his feelings for you are more important to him than mere sexual gratification. Is it possible that you might be selling your Harry short?"
"What do you mean?"
"You've told me he has admitted that he loves you. He has stayed with you through circumstances that would have destroyed many a relationship. I don't know him personally, but from what little you've said about him, he doesn't strike me as the type of man who bails when situations become difficult."
"No . . . he is extremely loyal, but . . . how long can even a paragon endure such . . . deprivation?"
"Perhaps he doesn't see it as a deprivation?" Penbroke suggested.
"That's what he says."
"And you don't believe him? Why?"
As ever, Severus wondered how someone could look at him and ask that kind of question. Penbroke was a Squib, not a Muggle. He was familiar enough with the Wizarding World to have heard all the gossip and rumours. Yet, he still seemed genuinely confused and was obviously sitting there awaiting some kind of answer.
