"That is unfortunate, isn't it." But interesting enough. It seemed natural, of course, that Nott's condition should have been caused (or exaggerated; he had always been odd) by the circumstances of his father's death. But he had derailed so spectacularly that Severus thought there must have been something else in the mix. Perhaps it was only the fact that he was a wizard. There were magical illnesses that only struck their little segment of the population, and so it stood to reason that the magical mind should be particularly vulnerable to certain things, as well, or might at least manifest certain effects differently.
All in all, he thought it might not be a bad subject for an article, if he hadn't had so precious little spare time these days. He would at least take the time to read up on whether anyone had ever bothered delving into the thoughts and memories of mental patients. It seemed like an obvious sort of thing to do, but Healers had ethical restrictions to contend with that might have made it a little thorny.
"Would you rather I left?" he asked, not sure why his arrival should have brought on so much crying and cringing, but - clearly it had. "It wasn't my intention to upset you." Most of the edge in his voice was gone, having transformed into something flat and academic and a little probing.