Sunday, 10th of February, 1996, 2:30 pm

SEVERUS SNAPE

“Poppy, I am only here to gauge the boy’s capabilities for Occlumency. Not play games,” I said to the matron sternly.

“Severus, I’ll be out at St. Mungo’s for a few hours, surely all that time won’t be used for practice? He is very young, now. Not to mention the spell is still having a draining effect on him.”

“Still?” I was surprised.

“It’s not as bas as it was at first, but he can’t over exert himself or he gets exhaustion sickness. It has already happened, when Albus gave Mr. Potter a play wand, of all things.”

“You must be joking.” I grimaced, this would complicate things.

“Of course not.”

“Very well. I won’t over exert him, but I will not play games with him.”

“Good enough, if he begins having trouble, or does somehow over exert, there are Core Replenishers in the end table by Mr. Potter’s bed. I’m sure you know how to use them?”

“Of course.” I sneered. What potions master didn’t know how to use Core Replenishers?

Poppy gave me a disgruntled look, and then turned her attention to Potter’s bed. “Harry?”

Potter popped his head out of the curtains. “Yeah?”

“Professor Snape here will be attempting to gauge your potential for a particular magical ability, he will also watch over you while I am away at St. Mungo’s. Do you understand?”

Potter nodded his head and stared at me shyly. “Will you be gone for very long?” His voice was almost petulant, but I could also hear a small undercurrent of worry.

Poppy must have heard the worry too and hastened to reassure the boy. “Don’t worry, Sweet, it will only be for a few hours. I’ll return before dinner. Besides, Professor Snape would not do anything to hurt you intentionally. I assure you.”

Potter nodded again then disappeared into the folds of the curtain.

Poppy motioned me off to the side and cast a quick Silencing Spell. “Severus, be gentle with him. He is not…” She trailed off and seemed to go through a process of choosing her words carefully. “Try not to get too angry with him.” The look she gave me promised much pain and suffering if I did not heed her words.

“I will do my best to not disappoint you, Madam.”

She continued watching me for a moment before giving a single nod and flicked her wand, ending the Silencing Spell. With a few more last minute instructions, Poppy gathered her things, and was gone in a fiery blossom of flame in the Floo.

I waited a moment after she left before heading towards Potter’s curtained off bed. I pushed aside the curtain on the side facing way from the door and sat on the edge of the bed next to Potter’s.

He watched me do this, not saying a word. When I sat, he looked at his hands and picked at his fingernails. His gaze flicked between this hands and my face multiple times before finally resting downwards.

“Mr. Potter.” He flinched, almost imperceptibly. The outgoing attitude that he had greeted me with the first time I had met him in this state was no where to be seen. It was a curious shift in his personality that I could not conceive of an answer to.

“Yes, sir?”

“As Madam Pomfrey has explained to you, I am here to see how well you can learn Occlumency as you are.”

Potter tilted his head to the side his eyes full of thinly veiled curiosity, “Occlu...mency?”

“Yes.”

He nodded and moved his gaze from my face to my hands as if I were about to try to teach him with them. I pulled out my wand, watching his eyes the whole time. His eyes followed the tip of the wand the whole way until it was resting on my knee. Curious.

Slowly, so as not to startle him, I raised the wand to have it point at one of his temples. “Lean forward, Mr. Potter, rest your temple on the tip of the wand.”

Potter looked momentarily stricken, but the look was gone in flash and he obeyed. He slid forward on the bed and let his legs dangle over the edge. Keeping his eyes to the ground, he positioned his head next to the wand.

“Look me in the eye Potter.”

Potter looked up at me, his face was pale.

Feeling slightly unnerved by how Potter was acting I cleared my throat and cast a quick, light Legilimens.

If the fifteen-year-old Potter was a storm of emotions and memories, his seven-year-old self was a hurricane of the same. If was hard to discern anything in his mind. Memories flashed by in a split second, emotions changed and shifted tumultuously. It was overwhelming. Knowing that the boy would have little energy for an extended stay in his mind, I quickly dug deep into his mind, seeking out the mental signatures left by his magical core on his mind. Finding it, I held onto it and swiftly left his mind.

The boy looked ready to collapse. His skin was clammy and he looked terrified. “Mr. Pot--” I didn’t have a chance to finish my sentence before the boy was off the bed and running to the other side of the hospital wing. I chased after him, my longer stride out running the small child rapidly. I caught his arm and spun him around to face me. Potter was violently trembling.

“I’m sorry. Sorry.” Potter began repeating again and again.

“Stop panicking, boy!” Unfortunately this didn’t console him in the least, his eyes went wider than I thought would be possible and he began trying to shake off my hand.

“Let go!” he cried. Suddenly Potter collapsed and hung limply by my grasp. He still trembled, not looking up at me. His body was tensing as if he expected a blow.

I was at a loss for words, but managed to bite out. “I will not hurt you, calm down.”

He looked at me with mistrust and wariness. I used what little surface Legilimency I dared to, and sensed feelings of hurt, betrayal and, most odd of all, defeat and resignation. This young version of Potter was confusing me even more now. He acted nothing like his older self, who was predictable and bait-able. This terrified, trembling creature now captured by only one of my hands defied anything I had ever expected of the boy. Even when he was a small eleven-year-old, he acted how I expected him to act.

I pulled him up to his feet and let go. Potter rubbed his arm and took a step away from me.

“If all the hysterics are over, Mr. Potter. How do you feel? Are you in need of a Core Replenisher?”

Potter looked startled. “My…my head hurts.” He absently rubbed his scar, and continued to stare at me with wide eyes that were beginning to look confused. I waited for him to elaborate, but, when nothing was forthcoming, I stepped away from him and retrieved a headache potion from Poppy’s stores. I handed him the vial and he eyed it suspiciously before flicking his gaze between it and the potion cupboard and then downing it in a couple gulps. Obviously, the boy thought I was going to poison him.

I took the empty vial from him and flicked my hand in the direction of him bed. “Return to your bed, Mr. Potter.”

I put the vial away, along with the other empty vials in a small container next to the potions cupboard. I was even less pleased with my position now than I had been earlier in this day. The boy was skittish. I would have much preferred an arrogant Potter to this skittish one. Perhaps that’s why Poppy had told me to be gentle. But still I didn’t understand how the boy could go from acting happy and outgoing to acting as if he would be afraid of his own shadow.

I sat back down on the bed next to Potter’s and watched him as he picked at the sheets, absently. While he amused himself with that, I let myself sink into my own thoughts. What little I’d managed to glean from the boy, his magical core was still heavily depleted. But what little was there, was enough to learn the art of Occlumency. Occlumency, once learned, required very little actual magic it was mostly discipline of the mind. That discipline used only snippets of magic to compress and hide what ever memories the Occlumens chose, effectively camouflaging portions of the mind.

“Sir?” Potter’s voice tore me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

Potter fidgeted, and twisted the sheets in his hands. He seemed to be fighting some inner turmoil.

“Speak Potter.”

He started and pulled the sheet up to his chin, like a shield. “Who were the men in the black robes?”

I felt my blood run cold. My skills as a spy and an Occlumens were the only things that kept my face from showing the shock that was coursing down my spine. “What did you say?” It came out sounding like a dangerous threat, which was probably why the boy paled to the complexion of a ghost.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He pulled the sheet over his head and curled into a small ball.

I reached over the gap between the beds and wrestled the sheet away from his face. We ended up staring at each other; Potter was gaping at me with scared eyes. I leaned over the bed and rested one of my hands next to his head staring down at him, hoping above all hope that surface Legilimency would some how reveal this growing mystery.

“Are you going to Cruchio me, too?”

“What?” I started down at the boy, disbelief shaking me to me core.

“The red-eyed man does it. You’re one of his, aren’t you?” the boy asked accusingly.