A/N: I'm so sorry for how sporadic my updates and chapter lengths are! I'm working on fixing my schedule, so I'll be able to put more time into writing. Hopefully my updates might come more regularly.

Thank you all so much, as always. For reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. You guys keep me going.

~x~x~

Sev jolted out of his chair, flinging himself off to the side and out of the way. His heart was thumping something fierce, an intense pounding the threatened to force its way out of his chest. Eyes wide, he snapped his head back and forth, not recognizing his surroundings for a moment. It dawned on him, eventually. He was in the Hospital Wing. He was in Hogwarts.

His heart slowed down. The near panic lost it's edge.

He looked back around, locating Sirius' bed.

Every vase in the infirmary shattered, the shards flinging about like ceramic shrapnel. The walls shook, rattling the windows in their frames. Wind and magic commingled, swirling about violently, tossing everything from beds to empty vials.

Madame Pomfrey was slumped over at the edge of the bed, obviously stunned. Albus Dumbledore was perched on the side, Sirius' jaw held in a bruising grip. They were close enough he was sure Sirius would have been able to feel the old man's chin whiskers if he'd been awake. As it was, though, it looked rather like he was stuck in the Legilimens spell with the Headmaster.

Rage flowed through Severus. He could not believe the gall of the man! Well. He could, but he didn't want to.

Panic replaced his rage quick as a dime. Sirius slackened in Dumbledore's grip, and he was pretty sure the boy was starting to drool.

Oh god no…

Dread settled in, and Sev surged to his feet, stumbling over to the bed.

"Siri!" he shouted. "Sirius!"

Sirius was limp, only staying up by the sheer force of Dumbledore's hand.

"Sirius!" Sev slapped Sirius' cheek, hoping he would wake. He didn't.

Panic was coursing through him, stretching him as taut as possible with tension.

"Come on! Sirius, you answer me!"

Nothing.

"Sirius!"

Nothing.

"Fucking bloody fuck!"

Sev couldn't think straight.

His heart was hammering and he couldn't breathe or see or anything. He was pretty sure he was sweating, but he couldn't tell.

And then he had a thought.

"This had better-"

He grabbed Sirius' face, wrenching it over so he could look Sirius in the eyes.

"Legilimens!"

Nothing.

"C'mon! Legilimens! Legilimens!"

Nothing.

Sev took a deep, centering breath, willing his consciousness back behind his Occlumency shields. His emotions settled, and the magic in the room died down.

"Legilimens," Sev whispered, just barely more than a breath.

Sev was greeted by fire.

~x~x~

The land around was burnt as far as Sev could see. Ash and smoke were thick in the air, making it harder to breathe. Twisted skeletons of trees stood out of the earth, horrific spires of black char against the orange haze of the ravaging fire. Memories floated across the sky, melding and muddling before the occasionally disappearing. He had to squint to see much more, the waves of heat disfiguring the entirety of the landscape.

Eventually, after a fair deal of wandering across what he assumed was once a grove - an earth based core, like mine - he found them. Sirius was crouched down in a sort of den, hidden beneath a group of trees. He clutched at his head and sobbed violently, his knees up against his chest. Dumbledore stood outside the trees.

The old man's arms crossed his chest, and he stood tall and proud. Sev could see he was speaking, but he couldn't hear over the roar of the flames. He creeped closer to the pair, staying as quiet as possible.

"-making it worse, my boy. I ask only for small sacrifice, child, for the greater good. Surely you must understand. For the good of the many, few must suffer. Do you see? In sacrificing this, in letting go and accepting the happenstance of your family, you allow for a brighter, better future?"

"No! No! They'll hurt me and Reggie! They'll kill us, you codgy old bastard!"

"Now, now," the headmaster said, "That's no way to speak to your elders, my boy. You use respect and language befitting one of your station."

Dumbledore drew his wand, and Sev knew something was going to go wrong if he didn't act.

He drew his own, flicking it at Dumbledore. "Expelliarmus!" The thin, white wand flew back towards Sev, clattering to the ground behind him. The old man looked absolutely astonished, and Sev used that to his advantage.

He drew himself up to his (admittedly short) full height, standing with as much pride and dignity as he could.

"As Scion Slytherin, I claim Sirius Orion Black for the Slytherin line. As Lord Evans, I claim Sirius Orion Black for the Evans line." Sev spoke, not knowing where the words came from or how he knew them. Ambient magic flared to life, dancing playfully around them, letting him know he was doing right. "Albus Dumbledore, you have mentally attacked a child - an absolutely defenseless child - who has done you no wrong. You will explain yourself."

He could see Dumbledore struggling, but magic was not having it. Sev had spoken with a quiet finality, unknowingly calling upon his family magic. The House of Evans demanded answers, and answers magic would give them.

"Now, Headmaster."

Dumbledore struggled further, making the magic flare out violently. The force of it almost brought the older man down to his knees. Sev just watched on, waiting patiently for him to spill all.

Eventually, he did.

"I need him raised by the Blacks. He has to understand the dark," Dumbledore spat out. "He and Regulus. I need them there. They have to be able to understand certain things. They will have a role to play in the future, an important one, if they can survive."

Sev's eyes turned hard as he gazed at the old man. "You would condemn two innocent boys to their potential deaths, for what? Some vague, imaginary scenario?"

"There are… rumors… going around. A young man, a past student of mine - I went wrong with him somewhere. Now, he's bitter, dark. He's starting a war, preparing an army. I need to ready the board, to take him down."

"Why you?"

Dumbledore struggled further, resisting the magic that continued to push at him.

"My patience runs thin, Dumbledore. Why must it be you?"

"I- I am a hero. I defeated Grindelwald. I need the prestige of defeating another Dark Lord to push through certain… agendas… The wizarding world is too grey, too bordering on dark. They must be cleansed. I will bring them light."

"You're fucking barmy, Albus. Absolutely fucking barmy."

He straightened himself back up, dismissing the wild magic with a simple wand flick. "Albus Dumbledore, with the power granted me as Lord Evans, I declare you enemy of the House of Evans." He made eye contact with Dumbledore, disappointment etched into his face. "Until such a time that I find you to be no harm to myself or my friends, you are prohibited any form of contact with myself and all others under the protection of the House of Evans, except in situations of the utmost necessity. So I speak it, so mote it be."

With that, Dumbledore was rather efficiently evicted, and Sirius' mindscape finally settled. The winds died down, and the flames went out with the slightest snap.

After a quiet moment, when everything had settled, Sev approached the huddled form of one of his best friends. His hand outstretched, he crouched down next to the boy.

"C'mon, Siri. I don't know a lot about this Occlumency stuff, but it doesn't look like any of your memories were actually destroyed. I think he just busted up your shields."

Sirius looked up, warily eying the offered hand.

"I'll help you rebuild it even better, if you'd like."

Sirius gave him a shaky nod, taking his hand.

~x~x~

Severus did help rebuild Sirius' mindscape. It had taken what Madame Pomfrey had told them was nearly two days. Two days of putting Sirius through insurmountable pain, completely ripping up what he'd established as his mindscape, taking breaks, and building it all the way back up.

It was exhausting work. There were points when Severus had reversed the legilimency, tearing apart his own shields piece by piece, so Sirius could get ideas on how to build up better defenses. He'd shown him how to separate them all while keeping them mixed and spread, and how to make it so that it would take more than a single spark to bring it all to ruin.

The spell was broken off after that. Sev's mind was snapped forcefully back into it's own body. There, he was berated by his entire family, Aunt Minnie, and madame Pomfrey about the dangers of interrupting the legilimens spell, and keeping it open for that long. Apparently, he could have irreversibly melded part of his conscious into Sirius' own mind. Both boys had shuddered at that. They didn't particularly want any part of them stuck in the other's head.

The fun started after his mandatory bed rest. Headaches reigned supreme in Sev's world. From small annoyances to migraines so severe he'd crumpled to the floor, nearly vomiting from the intensity. His night terrors came back with an equal vengeance. Sev would wake up screaming himself hoarse, thrashing about in his bed, fighting off god only knew what. He'd come to to the sight of his mum, gently patting his hair and singing the tune he knew so well. She'd sit up with him, talking like they used to. She'd get him water, and then he'd be back to bed to do it again.

It ran them all ragged. Sev barely slept anymore, instead throwing himself into helping Regulus and Sirius build up their own Occlumency shields. Regulus had taken a bit more work, needing a different method, but eventually the two got it and were sent off to a mind healer. The past years of their lives came to light, and the Black matriarch and patriarch were shunted off to Azkaban, while their children were taken in by Uncle Elphie.

The Black children improved in leaps and bounds. A combination of counseling and potions regimens saw the boys happy and healthy. Severus envied them that.

Rose tried to keep his days as normal as possible, imposing a schedule full of activities that would hopefully keep him busy and too exhausted for nightmares.

It worked… for a while.

That is to say, until Sev learned what intrusive thoughts are.

~x~x~

"Muuum!" Sev cried out, his heart pounding, bile rising in his throat. He couldn't believe he'd just thought that.

In less than a minute she was bursting into his en suite, and he knew she was taking in his tear stained face and how distraught he was sure he looked. He was pretty sure it was very. He was a crying mess, hugging himself and hunched over, toothpaste still in his chin where he hadn't wiped it off yet.

"Sev, what's wrong?" She bustled on over to where he was standing, kneeling so she was on his level.

"What's wrong?" she asked again, taking his face gently in her hands.

"I don't wanna do it, mum," he choked out. "I want to but I don't!"

"What don't you want to do, love?"

Sev hated that he was making her this worried, that he couldn't have just stayed happy and content, those memories buried.

"The bad things, mum!" As if she would know what that meant.

She just stared at him, waiting for him to continue on.

Sev cried harder - nearly wailing, really.

"I was brushing my teeth and- and - and all of a sudden I wanted to know what it would f-feel like to hit my he-ad in the mirror!" Sev started sobbing in earnest at his admission. He'd wanted to hurt himself! To really hurt himself!

Tears were welling in his mum's eyes - not that he could see them then.

"I w-wanted to hurt, mum. It was like a bad me telling me that I deserved to hurt."

He was gathered up in his mum's arms, and she drug him to the floor, plopping him in her lap and hugging him close as he cried.

"You don't, Sev. You don't," she told him. "You did nothing to deserve any kind of hurt. You don't deserve it."

~x~x~

The mind healer Rose had hired - a one Healer Anastasia Smythewick, one of the reportedly best in the hemisphere - looked like she was ready to smack herself in the face with her filed. Repeatedly.

She didn't, though, thankfully. She settled for plopping down on the bed opposite her charge's, sighing heavily before eyeing everyone sitting across from her.

"You," she said, levelling her gaze at Rose, "adopted a child who had been severely neglected, physically, mentally, and sexually abused, who spent god knows how long being raped at the hands of his father, put him through the trauma of legal and medical exams, and got him no counseling. You took his adjusting as a sign that he was okay. When he had a magical fit, you finally sought out mind healing, which lead to him being mind raped, and then sought no further recourse because his occlumency shields had suppressed everything. That is, until he had to help a close friend, and tear apart his own shields to do so! Afterwards, when he started having debilitating pain and night terrors, you sought ought no help, trying your best to help him yourself! You did not seek out help again until he told you he wanted to essentially bash his skull into a mirror!"

Her voice, which had started even, had steadily risen, until she was red-faced and shouting.

"And you!" she yelled, turning on Madame Pomfrey. "You gave him potions and didn't push the issue! You! You're a healer! You're job is to help him by any means necessary, even if that means seeking out a mind healer yourself!"

Aunt Minnie came under fire next.

"A PROFESSOR! You are a professor! He was under your care! You knew his past! How could you not push the issue?"
Finally, she turned to the small boy. He was hugging his knees, and she'd bet ten galleons he was crying.

"You, child. You faked your own happiness. You tried to be happy and good for your family, to keep them from worrying." She crossed over to his bed, sitting next to him. "As honorable as your actions were, they harmed yourself. You let yourself suffer so that those close to you would be happy, but that's not healthy. You deserve to be happy, too."

She patted his head gently before picking her files back up. Without another word she was in front of the floo, and taking herself back to her office in St. Mungo's.

Before she left, she let a scrap of parchment fly out of the fire.

Severus Tobias Evans. 9 A.M. session with Healer Smythewick, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Appointments will not be missed.

~x~x~

Mind healing, Sev found, could range from dreadfully boring to great fun.

His first appointment, he'd just played in the sand box she'd offered him, completely ignoring the healer. She just sat and watched, taking the occasional note.

The second time he was there, she had paints for him. He painted what he believed looked like a smashed, bloody mirror. She was not impressed.

They went on like this for nearly two month's worth of sessions. He would try his best to push her buttons, to make her yell or snap, to make her angry at him. It never worked. She would compliment him on his exemplary work, no matter what it was, and continue on letting him act out.

By the time the end of July came around, he was ready to just completely give up.

The healer didn't let him.

When he came in for his next session, she pointed him to his favorite armchair. On the side table was a thick letter, folded into thirds. He tried to make a point of ignoring it, but curiosity ate at him.

He made it almost ten minutes - a whole ten more than he thought he would - before he had to read it. The letter made his heart sink.

"

Dear you, whoever you may be,

If you're reading this, then you are undoubtedly in the hands of Healer Anastasia Smythewick. You also are more than likely constantly giving her the stink eye or cold shoulder, or at least doing your utmost to infuriate her. Congratulations. You have not succeeded. I doubt you will.

I might understand where you're coming from, I might not. You'll have to determine that yourself.

I know you've been abused. Those are the only cases our esteemed healer takes, so you cannot pretend you were not. Whatever you believe defines abuse aside, Healer Smythewick has determined that your case was, in fact, abuse. You cannot argue this.

I know that you're angry, at least a little. We all are. We meaning every other child to have suffered as we have. How that anger manifests is unique, but shares a few key commonalities. You're undoubtedly angry at your abuser, and you have that right. What they have to done to you is horrendous and disgusting. To abuse a child in any fashion is a heinous crime, one which offers no repentance. You may also be angry at yourself, for letting it happen. Don't be. Your abuse and suffering came through no fault of your own. No one deserves abuse. Absolutely no one. You did nothing to deserve it, and I sincerely doubt you could have stopped it in any fashion. Abusers do what they can to hurt others in any manner possible.

I know that you are suffering. This is normal and understandable, I assure you. You have been through a trauma, no matter how big or small, and it will have affected you. It may have given you nightmares, night terrors, or insomnia. You may find yourself overwhelmed with anxiety, flashbacks, or paranoia at the slightest reminders. You may be incurably sad or angry or voided of emotion. This is normal. Brains are not built for coping with trauma. They just aren't. No brain is, be it that of a goldfish to that of the strongest, bravest adult you may know.

I know that you are not alone. How could you be? You have myself and Healer Smythewick, at the very least, and someone who cared enough to seek her out. That's three people there that want to see you get better, at the very least.

She just wants to see you become the best that you can. She wants to help you, so that you can smile and laugh without forcing it. So that you can live day to day without that ache that haunts your chest.

I implore you, let her. Let yourself heal.

Sincerely yours,

Callista Smythewick

"

Severus looked up at the healer, taking in her look of sad resignation.

"Callista, she- Smythewick- Is she…?"

The healer nodded her head slowly. "My daughter, yes. I- I made a bad choice in father for her, after her own passed away. He was kind at first. He spoiled us, gave us whatever it was we wished for." Severus had a sinking feeling where this was going as the healer looked out her office window. "He started holding it over us, telling us we owed him. That our lives were only worth living because of him. When she got her Hogwarts letter, he was furious. Threw it in the fire. Told us he would not pay for an insufferable whelp's schooling when she wasn't even his. She'd done nothing to prove that she deserved it, after all."

Silence hung thick between them for a good, long while.

Sev stared at his toes. His own morbid curiosity drove him to know of Callista's fate, but there was a feeling in his gut. It told him that he already knew.

"He stunned me," she admitted, barely above a whisper. "Stunned me before dragging her to his room." She paused, blinking away tears. "He did it again and again, until she became pregnant. He told everyone that she was a whore, sleeping around with the neighborhood boys. When I told him I was going to the police, he threatened to kill her."

Another long pause, in which the healer hung her head.

"She died anyway. Twelve year olds are not meant to bear children. That letter was penned by myself, on behalf of her ghost, almost ten years after her death."

Silence fell between them, interrupted just barely by the both of them crying.

Eventually, Sev couldn't take it. He flung himself into the healer's chair, hugging her as tight as he could.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" he sobbed. "You just wanna help and I've been all ungrateful and awful and I'm sorry! I'm sorry for you and Callista and I promise I'll behave! We can talk about anything! Anything!"

Anastasia simply patted his back, her own tears falling silently.

"All in due time, Severus, all in due time. So long as you try, I have not a complaint about you."

~x~x~

One of the first things the healer did was give Sev a book that explained why Occlumency was great for use in mind healing, but also why it wasn't the end all be all of it, and he finally understood why she'd been so angry. If he simply shoved aside the memories and feelings, they'd simply sit there and rot, festering away in some corner of his mind until they dissolved his shields, causing them all to flood forward while causing him immense pain and mental damage. He'd apologized profusely.

The next thing she did was tell him that they could do whatever it was he wanted. She could not and would not ever force him to talk about anything if he didn't want to. It was his healing, and had to be done at his own pace.

The night terrors continued to plague him, something he wasn't allowed to take potions for. Anastasia assured him that they would eventually die down.

Around the three month mark, at the end of August, Sev was finally opening up about everything. It started off small, with him admitting that it was wrong - that he had the right to feel hurt and wronged and angry. She had him write a letter to both of his parents ("It doesn't matter that they can't read it. It's an outlet. It lets you express your feelings in a healthy way." "Like punching the dummy?" "Sort of."). They ended up being quite long, with holes in areas where the ink had piled in so thick and roughly that it ripped through the parchment. There were tear stains and smudged words and quite a few indistinguishable points, but eventually they were written. Anastasia promised not to read them, and she stuck to it. The trust she earned was incredible.

Severus found that he liked telling it as a story, with a different boy as the protagonist. It was something Anastasia nipped quickly in the bud, telling Severus that as nice as it was to dissociate himself from his past, it wasn't healthy. He didn't like that one much.

Painting was nice. He'd tell her what he was thinking of when he painted a particular picture, laying his entire thought process bare before her. It helped, a little.

What helped him most, though, was when she just let him cry. Those moments were the best, he thought. He would start the appointment with a memory - they worked forward from his earliest - and he would explain it all. He would tell of what had happened to the best of his knowledge, his interpretations, and his feelings during and later, once he'd processed it. After, she would remind him that it was not his fault. She would quickly and efficiently dissect his every bad feeling, making sure he understood that he was not at fault for his parents' relationship, his mother's weakness, nor his father's drinking. These were all out of his control. They had harmed him, and he was allowed to feel bad and sorrowful and hurt about it all, but he did not deserve it. They did not make him damaged goods, nor give him baggage. It was another facet of what made Severus Evans, a facet he was still trying to figure out. Eventually he would come to grips with it, realizing again that he was only a child. He was only a child. And he would cry and heal, and all was better again.

The night terrors finally stopped near November. Through some trial and error, they had realized that he was terrified of the dark and being alone. Anastasia found an artisan to craft a lightbox out of white oak for Severus, adding a charm that would let them record a lullaby from Rose. So long as the Everlasting Candle was lit, the song would play. It helped, soothing him to sleep. A charm was also added to Severus' bed, waking either of his parents should he be in distress. That way, they could be there when he woke, reaffirming that he was never alone.

That had been another few weeks of discussion - making Severus realize all of the good he had in his life. He did not have to suffer alone know. He had a family to ease his burdens, to help him. They cared for and loved him. He deserved this family and all of the compassion and joy and love they showered upon him. He deserved to be happy.

The year rolled around and passed. Severus was ten, nearing eleven. He had been with the Evans family since he was seven. He had been safe for three years.

He thrived.

Severus read and read, craving knowledge. He came out of his shell, slowly but surely. He asked questions as often as he could, refusing to be left in the dark about absolutely anything. He became independent and took on some of Lily's stubbornness. He dedicated himself to everything he could. He danced with Petunia and Marlene in the studio, learning every form of dancing he could get someone to teach him, with a touch of gymnastics thrown in when he couldn't dance. He learned to garden with Rose and Frank, despite his lack of a true green thumb. His father taught him the basics of carpentry, and Lily taught him about being one with the world.

Minerva set him to potions, ensuring that he was allowed to like something that Eileen had enjoyed. He took to it like a duck to water. From Remus, Severus learned about patience and kindness, giving as much good as he could to all. Alice showed him how to limit himself, to let himself come first sometimes. Regulus taught him of pure innocence, how to care and nurture it - though that had come with trial and error. Uncle Elphie and Sirius showed him how to have fun - To let himself be absolutely free, and enjoy all the world had to offer.

His favorite lesson, and the one he took most to heart, came from Anastasia: he had survived. Through everything, he had survived. He was living proof that his father had been wrong. He was everything his parents were not.

Anastasia taught him to see his own worth, his own good.

He was not broken. He never would be.

~x~x~

In acknowledgement of your reviews:

For certain reasons, Dumbledore will be staying out of Azkaban. It would be great if you guys could help me settle on some pros and cons to this. While he is a manipulative old bastard, he was once a good guy. I don't want to completely forget about that while painting him the asshole.

Severus does have PTSD, but this is something I doubt my abilities to convey. This is primarily because mental disorders and illnesses are not always the same. Not everyone is similarly affected. I have PTSD, but how mine manifests is far different from how it does in Severus and the few other people I've met with it. I'm sorry if I didn't write it correctly or in a way you approve of, but it wasn't something I felt comfortable trying to portray. What happened here came after incredible amounts of research, personal experience, and advice from a few people I know.

Sirius is saved! He's safe, I promise!

I know that's how it usually goes. It wasn't something I was eager to add as a plot point, but I ended up sticking with it as I further thought out the entirety of my story. It isn't necessarily relevant to the rest of the story, but it lends itself to a few later points. I definitely did not want it to be descriptive in any sort of way, so I made it as vague as possible. I'm glad you enjoy the Evans sisters!