Chapter 34

"I think we're doing good work together, Severus," said Dr. Ricci, as they neared the end of their one-hour session. "How do you feel about how things are going?"

As always whenever Dr. Ricci asked him a question, he considered his answer carefully. Her inquiries were never intended as mere politeness, as meaningless requests for equally polite responses. Her questions always had a purpose. In his second session with her, the doctor's skilled questioning had caused him to empty himself of his innermost secrets, telling his therapist things which he had never previously articulated, not even to himself, and of which he had perhaps not even been consciously aware. For the first time since childhood, he had cried openly. Curiously, he had felt no shame. The week following the second session had been torture, his days and nights filled with a desperate neediness to see Dr. Ricci, to hear her voice, to feel the comfort of being in her office, that being the only place on earth he had every truly felt secure. He had fought the urge to send her an owl begging for an emergency appointment, for that part of him capable of objective thought knew that there was no emergency. The fact that a damn had burst within him, unleashing several decades of pent-up emotion was not really an 'emergency'. It was very uncomfortable, but it was not going to kill him. Probably not, although if for some reason his next appointment with Dr. Ricci was cancelled, he was sure he would die of despair.

At the start of the third session, Dr. Ricci had asked him how things were going. In response, he had shocked himself by confessing that he did not think he could continue with the therapy.

"The simple fact is that I have fallen in love with you," said Snape, who until an instant before had not realized that this was the case. "I know it's ridiculous, but there it is, and I can't see how I can pretend I don't feel this way about you. It's absurd, for I know nothing about you, and you know more about me than I know about myself. But I know I can't continue like this." Close to breaking down, he had risen to leave. But suddenly Dr. Ricci's voice cut through the turmoil of his emotional state.

"Sit down, this instant. We will terminate our work together when it is time, and that time is no where near." Snape immediately complied with the doctor's order, hastily resuming his seat.

"Thank you," Dr. Ricci continued. "It is well that you told me exactly how you feel. I did not see this coming. Perhaps I should have, but it is unusual for transference to take place so quickly."

"Transference?" asked Snape.

"Yes. The fact you have fallen in love with me is a good sign It means that transference has taken place. Without transference, I doubt that meaningful psychoanalysis can take place. Although the techniques I use with you bear little resemblance to those of Freud, my methods are inspired by his. After he first began treating patients in his new fashion, Freud noticed that a surprising number of them professed their undying love for him. This puzzled him, for he knew he was quite unworthy of their affection: he had no illusions about his physical charms. He considered the matter, and eventually figured it out. His patients (usually women, by the way) were transferring to him the feelings that they had felt in early infancy for their own fathers. He had assumed the role of the perfect parent, and his patients simply could not help loving him. He recognized that this was a sign that real progress was being made."

"But how could this Freud have assumed a parental role?" asked Snape. "How is this possible? And how could you have assumed a parental role for me?"

"The psychological development of a child is extremely complex. All through infancy, the child's needs must constantly be attended to. In those I treat, I frequently find that the patient's difficulties are rooted in a period where those needs were not met, and that a gap exists as a result. I will give you a common example. Many parents are very nurturing and very competent at caring for their children for the first couple of years. But when the child begins to develop a will of his own, to express his own needs for a minimal level of Independence, a parent can feel challenged, and sometimes responds by withdrawing affection. This is devastating to the child. It turns his universe inside out."

"And in my case? Is that what happened?"

"It is far too early for you to tell me," replied Dr. Ricci.

"I though you would tell me, not the other way around."

"Severus, I can tell you at this point that I am rather confident in my opinion of what went wrong in your development and when. I have seen many, many patients over the years, and you fit a certain pattern that I have seen before. But it would do you no good at all to tell you. When Freud first started treating patients, he used 'hypnotism', the closet thing we muggles have to your veritaserum. Using it, he could very quickly find out what had happened to a patient in her infancy. But he found that simply telling the patient about what she said under hypnosis was useless, for in a fully conscious state, patients invariably reject what they said under hypnosis. So if you were to bring veritaserum with you, I could get you to tell me exactly what happened at every stage of your childhood, but all to no good purpose, for once the potion wore off you would reject every syllable of what you had uttered."

"But could we not at least try?" said Snape. "I am, after all, the Potions master, and I could bring some with me next time."

"I have tried before with other patients, and I have found it to be useless," replied the doctor. "It is far better if you, through our therapy, arrive at your own conclusions. But I will give you a hint. The answer lies in two dreams you told me of. You told me of a dream in your first session. In it, you wake up, in your parents' house, and you are an adult. It is the middle of the night, and you know upon waking that it was a noise in the living room that woke you - an intruder. You investigate the noise, and a small figure runs from the room, and opens a door to the back yard. You follow the intruder outside, and you see him running about the yard, seeking a way out that he cannot find. You realize the intruder is not more than two years old. You ask the intruder if you he is scared, and offer to help."

Snape listened carefully as his therapist summarized what she saw as the essential points in a lengthy and complex dream he had related, nodding his head as he did so.

"And then there is another, reoccurring dream you told me of, or rather, a figure that frequently reoccurs in your dreams: that of the witness, the child witness who stands to the side, silently watching everything that happens. Tell me, what do you feel when you contemplate the 'child witness'?"

"Terror," said Snape. "Utter terror. Let's suppose I have a dream, not a nightmare but a reasonably pleasant dream, in which the child witness is present. And then I wake up in the middle of the dream. If I think of the child witness, of what he means and why he is there, I probably will not fall asleep again that night. Just thinking about him will turn any dream into a nightmare."

"How old is the child witness?" asked Dr. Ricci.

"I think he is about nine or so."

"Yes. I thought as much," she replied. "How ever much it terrifies you, you must thing about the 'child witness' - who he is, and what he represents to you. The reason he terrifies you is that he symbolizes something that your unconscious mind is trying very hard to suppress. You must ignore your fear, and dig deeper into yourself. This child witness, is he present in the dream you have of the infant intruder?"

"No," said Snape immediately.

"I know why. If you think about it carefully for a while, perhaps you will know too, and by puzzling out the answer on your own, this will do you far more good that my simply explaining it to you. Yes, I think we are we're doing good work. We'll talk again in a week. Your homework has increased, for now you must keep a dream diary as well as a diary of your emotions. Bring it with you and we'll discuss it."

Snape took his leave of Dr. Ricci, leaving her office and entering the reception area. He no longer ignored the receptionist as a mere muggle, and it occurred to him to say a polite 'good bye' to her. He then went to the coat closet for the heavy overcoat he'd worn that day, necessary because of the cold snap London was experiencing. He needed to walk a short distance from Dr. Ricci's office before he could apparate back to Hogwarts, and he had no wish to experience the full blast of the cold. He also put on a hat, and satisfied that he looked reasonably muggle-like, he turned to leave. As he headed through the doorway, he encountered another person coming the other way, and each of them turned sideways to create room for the other, each staring full into the other's face. Reddening, Snape pulled his hat lower over his face, and headed out the door, hoping he had not been recognized.