Severus quietly sat on the stool beside the infirmary bed and watched the boy.
Classes were over, and he had his work well out of the way, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to check on his vexing apprentice.
And Rigel was most vexing. Severus pondered that no one had ever caused him so much worry in all his life; and most certainly not attracted as much trouble.
He had a lot of questions about the boy's time in the underground hellhole, questions with answers he knew he might not be comfortable to share. He would suggest Rigel see a Mind Healer for counselling if he did not know the disastrous reaction that would produce.
Merlin forbid the boy share his worries with anyone, He thought with no small amount of frustration.
Still, it was what it was; and he would have to deal with the child's terms if he wanted to help at all.
Rigel yawned and blinked upon waking, stretching his hands before he abruptly noticed Severus.
"P-Professor Snape!" Rigel said embarrassedly, "you're… well, you're here."
Severus suppressed a snort, "Indeed, Mr. Black."
Rigel seemed to read his amusement. "It's not like I knew you were going to be here," he muttered.
"Care to repeat that, boy?"
"Nothing!" The boy made a show of throwing his hand up. Severus rolled his eyes. It was at times like this he could swear Rigel really was a child of the marauders.
"So… what are you doing here?" Rigel said a bit suspiciously, "I mean, not that it wouldn't be lovely if this was a bed visit but—"
"Salazar forbid," Severus said dryly.
"—no offence sir, but you don't really seem the visitor type."
Severus arched an eyebrow, but Rigel looked back, unrepentant.
"Not without a reason, anyway."
He suppressed a smirk, "Oh? You presume to know me so well?"
At that, Rigel actually blinked doubtfully, "I… take back everything I said."
Severus shook his head at the boy's antics, "I do have something to discuss, Mr. Black—"
"Called it," Rigel muttered.
Severus shot him a quelling look. The boy had been all over the place— including continually not well deciphering the line between disrespect and expression in his frequent but short outbursts —ever since the ordeal. The only reason Severus tolerated it was because Rigel needed as many chances as possible to speak his mind, particularly after what he'd recently been through.
"As I was saying," Severus continued, "I had a few things I'd like to clarify with you."
Rigel shifted uncomfortably, "And they are?"
"Why was the jewel really not able to take your magic?" Severus asked him quietly.
Rigel's body jerked, "I-uh, well…" The boy met his eyes stubbornly, "You know why already, don't you?"
"I have guesses," Severus said carefully.
"I don't want to talk about it. Please, Professor."
Severus let out a weary breath but nodded nevertheless.
"What was it doing to you?" Severus asked instead, voice clinical and detached, "You said it hurt… quite a bit, and that— I know enough about you to know that more lies behind that statement."
"Why do you want to know, Professor?" Rigel snapped, before taking a deep, calming breath.
It was a valid question. Severus himself didn't know why. He just… felt it his responsibility to see the boy well, somehow, and thought talking about it— whatever the boy's protests to the contrary —might aid in it as well as let Severus know of any things he ought to be careful about.
So Severus only looked at him patiently. The boy swallowed and looked away, before slowly saying, "Like I said, it just wanted my magic. And because it couldn't reach it… it just burned." Rigel shuddered, and Severus found himself furiously wishing he could have been there and done something to prevent it, "My magic wanted out, but it didn't have any escape route, and it just- it just. Burned. From the inside."
Severus said nothing— he needn't have —the boy was well into his expression now.
"It hurt a lot,"— and then Rigel smiled a bit dryly, belying the slight water in his eyes, "I guess you could say I learnt a lot of things from the whole experience. Pain tolerance. How to stay alive without food. Even what seemingly harmful potion ingredients are okay to survive on…" the boy trailed off, looking a little lost, "and how the bad guys aren't always ruddy stupid and you should get out of there as fast as you can instead of thinking how useless they are."
At that point Severus intervened, for the boy had long passed useful self-reflection, "Rigel—"
"Don't." Rigel whispered, burying his head in the pillow he was clutching, "I'm fine."
So Severus kept quiet and watched the boy with a strange sort of sadness.
Eventually the boy snorted softly and said, "I mocked him, you know."
Severus frowned at the non-sequitur, "What?"
"I mocked him. He wanted to pour a vial of Protection Potion around me and I pointed out that he was pouring out a deflating draft instead. Asked if he wanted to ease his swollen head."
Severus actually snorted at that. He didn't see why the boy was telling him this, however.
Rigel pulled his head out of the pillow to search his face for something. Whatever it was, he seemed strangely confused, "I mocked him," the boy repeated slowly, as though Severus was too thick to understand it the first time round.
"And it was well deserved," Severus said evenly, wondering at the strangeness in this turn of conversation.
"You don't get it, I-I—" Rigel frowned, "He got me in the back while I was going to deliver my homework to you. He got me just like the construct did last year. He bound me and I was helpless just like last time."
Severus frowned, confused as well enraged.
"I was stupid, " Rigel said harshly, apparently fed up with something, "Why aren't you saying anything? Where is the usual snark and scolding? I was freaking stupid when all year I did nothing but work so that I wouldn't be, I—"
"You were not stupid," Severus growled, "You cannot own up to the mistakes of every madman in your life, Rigel. Like you said, you tried, you gave whatever you could at that moment, and that is enough."
"But that was not enough!" Rigel's voice broke, and he sounded close to sobs, "It wasn't enough, Professor Snape. What if it's never enough?"
"You cannot go forward in life thinking that way," Severus said, "There will be events you can't control, and there will be times of helplessness, and the fact of the matter is that you can only prepare yourself by being strong of character and knowledgeable, whether by study or experience. And that preparedness is not for nothing. How can you say that, boy, when the only reasons you survived the whole ordeal were things like your grit, your spirit, potions knowledge, preparedness by having potions and the sort in your kit, and most of all your sheer resourcefulness. You wo-uldn't—" Severus' voice cracked, "be here if you didn't have those and a thousand things more about you, so how can you say that?"
Tears welled in the boy's eyes, and he ducked his head, ashamed. Severus gently placed his hand under the boy's chin and raised it.
"How you dealt with it all is remarkable, Rigel," He said softly, "Don't let your demons tell you otherwise."
Rigel swallowed and shivered before giving the smallest of nods.
Severus withdrew his hand and stared at the boy.
"You're enough," he said, "You're always enough. Don't let anyone or anything else tell you what you are. And if you've made some mistakes, well, they are the experiential kind of preparedness I mentioned. They made you you, just as much as any achievement did. Being haunted by them doesn't change that."
"I'll… try to remember that," Rigel said.
Severus nodded, "See that you do."
He wondered if the emotional conversation had drained the boy as much as it had him. But Severus had meant. Every. Word. He'd said.
His wand buzzed slightly, informing him that it was now time to patrol the corridors.
He said his words of goodbye to the boy and walked out of the wing.
Something nagged at him, and he hesitated before going back in.
Rigel was clenching his hands tightly, a sight that wouldn't normally be alarming, but…
"Your nails are not cut very small," Severus pointed out. The boy had not brewed potions in… weeks.
Rigel looked up, surprised, and then annoyed that he was surprised, before finally saying, "That's fine, they don't hurt much. And I can always heal them."
Pushing down the frustration, Severus took the boy's hand and swept his eyes at it pointedly. Rigel grimaced, but let loose.
Which in turn meant letting out tears too, apparently.
Rigel clamped a hand on his mouth and turned away, body shaking in with the force of holding in too much. Severus deliberately looked away, easing some of the tension in the boy's shoulders but only moving the sniffles to sobs.
"'M sorry," Rigel mumbled somewhere in the middle.
"Don't be," said Severus. He still was not looking.
Eventually the boy's sobbing subsided, and he looked drained but relieved as well, as though a weight had been taken off his shoulders.
Severus turned to look at him. Rigel was tear-stained, red, and tired. But he was smiling faintly.
"Thank you, Professor."
All night those words and the face they came from replayed in his head.
Or somewhere ambiguous in his chest.