Severus had just finished preparing breakfast when Potter entered the kitchen. The teen’s early arrival did not surprise him, having not bothered to show up for dinner the previous night he was now probably quite hungry. Severus had intended to send some food up to the boy, he couldn't leave him to starve after all, but it had slipped his mind in the wake of the boy's insolence. To ease his conscience he had prepared a larger breakfast than usual.

“Good morning, Professor,” Potter said passively as he took a seat, Severus hummed a return greeting. He had made a decision last night that for there to be any chance of surviving this holiday intact, he would have to keep their interactions to a minimum; they were far too easily provoked by one another.

Severus transferred the food into serving dishes and brought them to the table.

“How did you manage all this?” Potter asked, looking over the bounty of food before him, “Yesterday you could hardly scrape together a sandwich for me,” he remarked as he eagerly began to serve himself.

“Yes, as I recall you interrupted me before I could finish speaking. Had I been allowed to finish, you would know that a member of the Order graciously offered to supply the necessary provisions to see us through the next few weeks. They stopped by this morning,” Severus explained.

“Really? Who was it?” Potter asked, his eyes glinting with unwelcome curiosity.

“That is none of your concern, Potter,” Severus replied curtly. Albus had come by early that morning for the supply drop as well as a much needed conversation, after which he'd specifically requested the boy not be informed of his visit.

“It's just, that's an odd thing to be secretive about, I already know all about the Order,” Potter said, his brow furrowing.

Severus did not respond, indulging in a small bite of his food and keeping his face expressionless; the boy would get no hints from him.

Potter, self absorbed as always, did not seem to notice Severus' utter disinterest in continuing the conversation.

“But it can’t have been Sirius, no chance he’d agree to that without getting a proper visit out of it,” he went on without prompting, “In fact probably most of the others would at least want to say hello…” He paused, considering, and then his shoulders slumped slightly. “Oh, it was Dumbledore, wasn't it?”

Potter was watching him carefully for confirmation but Severus once again made no outward acknowledgement of the boy's words. More irritated than impressed with the boy's persistence, he picked up his copy of The Daily Prophet, and pretended to be thoroughly enthralled by its uninspired contents.

Potter sighed, looking away and focusing on his food. Severus could see that the boy was pouting over his unsubstantiated revelation. He had seen the way Albus had been avoiding Potter throughout the term, he also knew there was good reason behind the change. Potter was so used to being fawned over and given extra privileges by the headmaster, he must have been quite disappointed to learn the elder wizard was no longer under his thumb.

Behind the paper, Severus smiled minutely. It was all too satisfying to see the boy learning that he would not always be the recipient of special treatment. Severus intended to reinforce that lesson himself.

Potter did not ask any more questions, and Severus was content to leave him to his thoughts. The boy finished his meal and distractedly excused himself without so much as a thank you. Though it wasn’t as if Severus had actually expected the ever ungrateful Potter to understand the efforts being made to accommodate him.

Once the boy was gone, he did a quick clean up of the kitchen and made his way to the basement where he had once frequented a small potions lab. In recent years, as his visits to the house had dwindled to almost none at all, the lab had been heavily neglected and he had let his supplies run low.

He had quite a bit of work to do if he was going to get the lab ready for his use over the holiday, but he was content enough for the task as he needed to take his mind off of the problem residing upstairs. He set to work noting what he would need for the various potions necessary to replenish the stock at Hogwarts, as well as his own personal projects. He would need to head into London today if he was to have his work completed by the start of the next term.


It was nearly noon when he reluctantly made his way to the kitchen to prepare a quick lunch. He decided another sandwich and a simple salad would suffice for the boy, but he wasn’t hungry himself. Normally he enjoyed the process of cooking, but having to cook for a Potter made the task seem onerous and unpleasant.

Potter showed up with seconds to spare and Severus was mildly disappointed that he couldn’t berate the boy as usual for his tardiness. Potter entered the room, stopping cold when he saw there was only one place setting.

“I'm not late am I?” he asked, checking his watch.

“Miraculously you are on time. It is I who will not be staying.”

“Oh good, you had me worried,” Potter said, relaxing and seating himself. Severus waited, expecting Potter to ask the obvious question. The boy took a large bite out of the sandwich, completely oblivious to Severus as he looked on with increasing disgust.

Severus cleared his throat. “You may be wondering why I have chosen not to join you,” he began, Potter looked over to him impassively, still chewing. “There are numerous items which I have need of for my potions work. Therefore a trip to Diagon Alley is necessary, though it may take the remainder of the day.”

“Oh! That sounds brilliant, when are we going?” Potter asked presumptuously.

“We will not be going anywhere. I will be making this trip alone,” Severus said.

Potter's eyes widened. “You're leaving me here by myself?” he asked with barely concealed excitement.

“Before you get any ideas, I will not have you wandering aimlessly about my house.” Severus pulled a small bit of parchment from his robes. “I have compiled several tasks I expect to be completed by the time I return, they should keep you properly engaged while I am gone.” He placed the list down next to the teen.

Potter picked it up, skimmed it, and set it back down on the table with a puzzled frown. “Can't I just work on my assignments? Isn’t that what you wanted anyway?”

“Perhaps, if I felt I could trust you to do so. As of now I believe it would be best to keep you more physically occupied.” Potter looked with open displeasure at the paper as he resumed eating with significantly less enthusiasm.

“I will be heading out shortly. I suggest you get started on your tasks as soon as you’re through eating if you are to finish on time.” Severus turned to leave, already tiring of the boy's presence.

“And if I don’t?”

Severus slowly turned back around to face the sullen teen, eyes narrowed into slits. “Excuse me?” Surely he hadn’t heard that correctly.

Potter stood, crossing his arms in front of him in a display of defiance. “What if I decide not to? What will you actually do?”

“Trust me, you do not want to find out,” Severus snarled.

Potter smirked. “So you’ve said, but I think if you actually had any power over me, you wouldn’t have tolerated me even this long. You may be my professor, but you can't take so much as a point from me here. So I think I won't be lowered to doing any of these menial chores, and you obviously can't make me. Either you let me come with you, or you'll just have to trust me staying here,” he finished, grinning triumphantly.

Severus was at the boy's side in an instant. He took Potter by his upper arm, easily tuning out the boy's protests as he guided him upstairs.

“In fact, there is a third option. Perhaps I have been taking the wrong approach thus far, but I can no longer pretend anything approaching a mature or even civil relationship is possible at this time.”

Potter barked a laugh, momentarily pausing his attempts to pull away. “When have you tried to be civil?” he scoffed.

Severus ignored the comment entirely. “Obviously I overestimated you by attempting to treat you as a young adult when clearly you are nothing more than an arrogant child.”

“I'm not a child... Why have we come here?” he asked as they stopped in front of his bedroom door.

Severus opened the door, releasing his grip on the boy and motioning for him to go inside. Potter moved past him, shooting him an indignant look. Severus stopped in the doorway.

“I don’t understand,” Potter said, eyeing him warily.

“I am a reasonable man, so as per your request, you can work on your assignments. However, since I will not be here to supervise you, I need assurance that you will stay in this room.”

Surprise flickered across Potter's face. “You’ve decided to trust me.”

“Perhaps you misheard me,” Severus said, taking a step backwards.

“Colloportus,” Severus intoned as he waved his wand, closing and locking the door between them.

Predictably, Potter went for the handle, jiggling it ineffectually before giving up and beginning to pound on the door. “Let me out! You can't just lock me away in here!”

“It is already done,” he said dismissively, starting back down the hallway. “I will endeavour to return shortly.”

Potter continued to yell and beat melodramatically on the door as he walked away, much to Severus' amusement. He held no sympathy for the boy, he would only be gone a few hours. If Potter actually did his work, the time would pass quickly enough.

Severus passed by the kitchen, catching a glimpse of the half eaten meal left on the table, he hesitated for a moment and then with a swish of his wand, sent it up to Potter's room. The boy would have enough to complain about come dinner time, no reason to add being 'starved' to the list of topics. With that, Severus went to the sitting room to Floo to Diagon Alley.

~~
It had taken longer than he'd anticipated to locate the various  ingredients he required. By the time Severus returned it was well past five. He would have to start preparing dinner right away, though he was eager to organise and put away his purchases. He placed the materials in an out of the way place and headed for the kitchen, once again begrudging the burden of having Potter in his home.

He concocted a simple chowder and sliced some bread before heading upstairs to set the Golden Gryffindor free. To his surprise, Potter did not speak to him on the way back to the kitchen. He had expected the teen to be outraged and embarrassed, and for Potter that meant endless mewling complaints and ridiculous threats. Severus was instead graced only with the boy's baleful glare.

They ate in silence, Potter apparently fuming and Severus waiting for the outburst that was sure to come.

“Is there something you wish to say?” Severus said, finally giving in to his curiosity. Surely he hadn’t cowed the boy that much just by giving him a time out.

“No.”

“It is evident that you are angry, speak your thoughts now and we may have a productive lesson later,” Severus pressed, the teen's uncharacteristic silence was putting him on edge.

“Obviously you're happy enough to ignore me outside of lessons, can't we just keep that going?” Potter said sourly, not looking up from his soup.

“If that is what you want,” Severus replied cautiously.

“As if it really matters what I want,” Potter mumbled bitterly.

“Enough of this brooding self pity, whatever it is just spit it out,” Severus said, becoming exasperated.

Potter put down his spoon forcefully, “Isn't it obvious? I wanted to go to Diagon Alley and instead you decided to imprison me! I have every right to be angry!”

Severus scoffed. “Do not be so dramatic. I was never going to take you to Diagon Alley and had you not been so belligerent, I would not have been forced to ground you.”

“Ground me?” Potter's anger morphed into confusion.

“Yes, ground you, it is a common practice used to discipline children. Though I don't suppose discipline is a concept you can very well grasp, having so rarely experienced it,” Severus added a touch disdainfully.

“Actually, I understand perfectly–” Potter began with an indignant huff.

“Excellent, then you realize that any additional complaints will only further cement my very well founded impression of your immaturity,” Severus cut in smoothly.

Potter's mouth snapped shut, and he returned to glaring, eyes sparking with hate. Potter finished the rest of his meal as quickly as possible and excused himself, presumably heading back up to his room before the lesson began.

Severus watched Potter go, feeling a pronounced lack of enthusiasm for the hours to come. He decided the time remaining before the boy returned would be best used steeling himself for what was likely to be another trying lesson.

Once again the boy arrived exactly, irritatingly on time.

“It's about time, Potter,” Severus sneered anyway.

Potter rolled his eyes. “I think we both know that I'm on time, sir.” He didn’t hesitate, he pulled out his wand, assuming a ready stance and Severus did the same.

“Then let us begin. We shall see if you have been practising,” Severus said, knowing the boy had most likely not bothered.

“Legilimens!”

Severus strolled into Potter's mind without any opposition. He was immediately accosted by a stunning array of memories and emotions; obviously the boy had failed to clear his mind. Severus lazily flicked through the memories, not at all interested in seeing snippets of the boy's privileged life.

Potter looked to be about eight or nine, he was at a birthday party looking at a veritable mountain of presents. A very round looking boy of about the same age walked over with a beady-eyed grin and clapped Potter on the back. “Happy birthday, Potter!” he said before walking away sniggering. Potter rolled his eyes and looked back over the presents with a sigh. The memory was saturated in disappointment and longing, which Severus could only assume was because the boy was somehow unsatisfied with his numerous gifts.

Severus had seen enough, he flipped to the next scene.

A school playground, Potter was sitting on a swing, twirling from side to side. The rotund boy from the previous memory walked over.
“Sod off, Dudley,” Potter said. Severus recognized the name, it was Potter's cousin.
“What's your problem, Potter? Can't I just say hi?” Dudley said, his expression both hurt and amused.
“Get away from me Dudley, what if they find out I was near you!” Potter spat, getting off the swing and walking away.
Dudley grinned and followed. “Maybe I won’t tell.”
Potter whirled around. “I said get away from me you fat idiot!” Potter shoved the larger boy forcefully, and Dudley fell on his arse. Potter stood over him for a moment, wide eyed and then smiled triumphantly.

Severus pulled away from the memory in disgust; he had no desire to see Potter bullying his cousin any further. The boy was a replica of his father in all the worst ways. Obviously he didn’t want to be publicly seen with his 'lowly' muggle relations.

He traipsed through several more disturbingly similar memories, with still not even a hint of resistance. He pulled out, perhaps a bit more roughly than necessary, unwilling to subject himself to any more of the boy's childhood. It was clear Potter would not push him out any time soon and what he'd seen so far had left him with a bad taste in his mouth and an increasingly sour mood.

“Pitiful as usual. You have made not even a modicum of progress,” he stated to the teen now gasping pathetically on the floor.

“I'm doing everything you said, it's not working!” Potter said once he had composed himself.

“If it is not working, it is only because you have failed in some aspect! Or perhaps you believe yourself incapable of failure?” Severus sneered, the images of the boy degrading his cousin still fresh in his mind. “Such arrogance. You truly are the spawn of your loathsome father, yet even he at least possessed some small talent to justify it.”

“I have plenty of talent, all of my other professors say as much. If you weren’t so set against me you'd realise that too,” Potter retorted.

“I believe only what I see, and thus far I have borne witness to one mediocre display after another. It is unfathomable to me that my colleagues have been so blinded by your celebrity that they cannot see as I do.”

Potter scowled. “You're the only one who's blind, I’m capable of more than you’d ever guess!”

“Then master yourself, prove me wrong!” Severus raised his wand, giving the boy but a moment to calm down. “Legilimens!”

For just a second Severus found himself enveloped in a swirl of overwhelming hostility and resentment, but it was gone in an instant, and once again he was surrounded by memories. He tore through them, trying to force the teen to try to stop him.

Potter was shouting goodbye as Buckbeak carried Sirius away … Potter and Weasley were in a flying car panicking as they headed straight for the Whomping Willow … The sorting hat shouted out Gryffindor and the room exploded with applause …

He could feel Potter's thoughts, he was trying to will Severus to leave, but it was far from enough. He went deeper. He pushed right through the memories at the forefront of the boy's mind, he wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but a random humiliating incident would not have been displeasing.

Potter was on the roof of his primary school, laughing rebelliously as teachers yelled for him to come down … Potter was in a small dark room, drawing a picture by torchlight… A blinding flash of green light, he can hear a woman screaming, begging …

Severus ripped himself from Potter's mind, shaken to the core by what he thought he'd just heard. Potter was still on his feet, though he was swaying dangerously. The boy was deathly pale and shaking violently, looking at Severus with unfocused eyes.

“What was that, Potter? Explain!” he commanded, not caring that he sounded manic.

Of course he already knew. That had been Lily's voice, he would have known that voice anywhere. He'd had no idea Potter was even conscious during the events from that night, the night of her death, and it had nearly undone him to witness it.

Potter reached up to clutch at his head, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

Severus reached out and grabbed Potter by his shoulders, giving him a shake. “Get a hold of yourself! Answer me!”

The effect was immediate. Startled green eyes focused on him at the contact, anger igniting beneath their surface.

“Don't touch me!” Potter jerked himself away, stumbling backwards.

Severus tried again. “What was that memory?” he asked in a farce of calmness.

“As if I'm telling the head of Slytherin anything. It was none of your business, just leave off it,” Potter murmured.

“My patience is wearing thin, boy, tell me now or I will simply have to go back and find out for myself.”

“No!” the teen shouted.

Severus pointed his wand, not willing to give up. He didn’t really want to see the memory again, not if it was what he knew it was, but something in him desperately needed to.

“Legili–” he began, but the boy turned and bounded out of the room before he could finish the incantation. His hand fell to his side, a deep sigh escaping him. He slumped down into a nearby armchair, his thoughts now consumed with the contents of the boy's memory.

He would not be getting any rest tonight.

~~~
Harry stumbled back towards his room, he was sure his head was splitting in two along his scar. The doubling of his vision seemed to confirm that and he had to grope along the wall to keep himself upright. It felt like an eternity before he finally collapsed into his bed, resting his head against the blessed coolness of his pillow and shutting his eyes.

It didn't help though, the floor rocked and bucked beneath him and a moment later he was rushing to the toilet to empty his stomach. He just sat on the floor for a minute, feeling fractionally better. Physically at least.

He slammed his fist weakly into the floor, feeling a sudden burst of frustration. He needed more practice, Snape had pushed right past the edited memories he'd wanted the man to see. Somehow Snape had pushed right into one of his most painful memories, a memory he thought he had buried deep. Wasn't it bad enough that he'd been forced to remember every time a dementor was near? And now Snape knew about it and worse, had taken undue interest in it. He had revealed a weakness and the man was sure to take advantage of it.

He stood shakily, deciding he was too drained to do anything now, he just wanted to go to bed. But the thought of sleep brought him no comfort, he knew what would be waiting for him when he had no distractions. His mind was a terrifying jumble of emotion, his scar a prickling centre of pain. Thanks to Snape, all the memories and thoughts he had worked to suppress were now swirling at the forefront of his mind.

Despite his best efforts, he drifted away on the current of his exhaustion, with only a dim hope that just maybe, tonight he would get a break.

~~~
He was walking down a corridor, he'd never seen it before but something told him there was something at the end, something he wanted desperately. The need drove him forward through the darkness, he was nearly there, he could feel it …

“Where do you think you’re going, Potter?” Harry whipped his head around, the voice was horribly out of place.

“Go away, Dudley, you shouldn't be here.” Harry said into the shadows, continuing his forward tread.

“I think it's you who doesn't belong here, freak.” Harry ignored him, not much further now.

“How would you know?” Harry questioned absently.

“I think it's time we reminded you of your place.”

“We?” Harry turned, squinting into the darkness, and he could make out the forms of two other boys beside his cousin.

“Up for some Harry Hunting?” Dudley smiled maliciously.

Harry bolted, hopefully catching the gang off guard. But they were right on his tail even at full speed and he had nowhere to go but forward. There was a door just ahead and he prayed it had a lock on it as he threw it open and went inside without hesitation. The inside of the room was bathed in total darkness and Harry stood by the door, heart pounding as he listened. But there was no sound from the other side, it was as though they had disappeared.

Relieved, Harry turned to explore the new room, his hands outstretched before him. Another step and suddenly he came in contact with a cold vertical surface. A wall. The room came to an end and he reached out to each side only to find the same.

That wasn't right, he hadn’t found what he was looking for yet. He turned back, feeling for the door he'd just come through, but he found it locked. Panic leapt to the surface, and he banged on the door, only to be met with a thunderous noise from just above him. Why did this seem so familiar?

There were footsteps outside the door now, but something told him they weren't there to help.
Light blinded him as the door in front of him was wrenched open and he recoiled, he understood what was coming now.

His uncle grabbed him by the front of his shirt, dragging him out of the cupboard and letting him fall to the floor. The man towered over Harry, his blotchy purple face far above him. He looked up into the man's murderous expression, watching the spittle fly as he yelled but Harry couldn't comprehend the words. He didn’t need to. His uncle was angry and Harry was already curling in on himself as the first blow fell.

But it never landed, instead he heard an all too familiar voice crying out.

“Not Harry! Please!”

Harry looked up sharply to be greeted by the sight of his mother standing before him, arms outstretched protectively. But it didn’t stop Vernon and Harry scrambled up wanting to prevent the enraged man from hurting his mother.

He lunged towards his uncle, but no, something was pulling him back. Something was wrapping around his torso even as he struggled against it and without a tingle for warning his scar exploded with pain.

He wasn’t on Privet Drive any more, Wormtail's repulsive face loomed over him, contorted into a hideous smile.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. No, not again, please no… he chanted silently, hopelessly. Soft footsteps approached and Harry opened his eyes, apprehensively taking in the new hooded figure before him.

“You had to play the noble hero didn’t you, Harry?” The figure lowered his hood, resting lifeless grey eyes on Harry.

Harry looked at him in horror. How could Cedric be standing there?

“What makes you so special? Why did I have to be the one to die?” Cedric shouted, anger twisting his bloodless features.

“I will make you pay for all the misery you’ve caused.” He raised his wand, pointing it at Harry.

“Crucio!”

Pain tore through his every nerve, lava flooded his veins, seeped into his bones; it was as though every molecule of his existence was being shredded and he couldn’t escape it.

He screamed, helplessly thrashing against the agony. His eyes shot open, the panic from his dream seamlessly transferring to reality as he found himself unable to properly move. Distantly he knew it was over, that it had just been a bad dream like all the others, but even now he could feel the phantom pains of the cruciatus curse throughout his body and his scar was still throbbing horribly.

He fell off the bed landing in a loose tangle of linen and limbs until at last he managed to kick himself free. He scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily and trying in vain to sort out where he was through the fog of panic that was still threatening to overtake him. The room suddenly seemed far too small, as though the walls were trying to close in on him and he knew he had to get out before they did.

He hesitated only a moment at the door, half fearing it would be locked but it opened without incident and he hurried down the hall. He didn’t know where he was going, he just felt like he needed to escape. He had to find some place away from all the chaos in his head, where he wouldn’t have to face the haunting pain of his failures.

He found himself staring at the front door a minute later and in a sudden fit of rashness, stepped outside into the night.

A frigid December wind whipped against his uncovered skin, but the sudden exposure was just the jolt he'd needed to ground himself. For a few minutes he just stood there, breathing deeply, his mind finally starting to clear as he took in the peaceful neighbourhood.

“Running away are we, Potter?” Snape growled from behind him. The man's voice was a low rumble but he may as well have shouted for the shattering effect it had on Harry. He whipped around, any semblance of calm leaving him completely as his just buried panic clawed its way to the surface once again.

A very awake and very agitated Snape stood in the doorway, and Harry barely found it in himself to form a coherent response.

“I..I just wanted some fresh air,” he managed.

Snape waved the excuse away. “Do not bother lying to me, I am all too familiar with your penchant for night time wandering. Now, what were you doing?”

Harry shook his head slowly, his anxiety increasing as he realized nothing he could say would make his professor believe him.

“I cannot understand why you insist on proving yourself untrustworthy. Each time I afford you the slightest bit of freedom, you choose to make me look the fool for doing so.”

“I didn't mean–”

“I am uninterested in your excuses, Potter. You are going back to your room and once again, I will make sure you remain there. Come.” Snape turned, assuming Harry would follow, but he didn't. He knew Snape meant to lock him in again, and he just couldn't handle that right now. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen it coming. He'd known it would happen again, of course Snape would prefer to lock him up again rather than listen or give him a second chance. That's how it always seemed to turn out.

“Are you going to force me to drag you there again?” Snape asked irritably. Harry shook his head, he didn’t want to provoke the man into physical violence. He knew it was only a step away, the Dursley's after all had started by keeping him out of the way, as Snape was now, but things always escalated quickly.

Yet, still something in him hesitated. For a split second his stress addled mind considered just running out into the darkness and letting whatever fate befall him. He looked longingly into the distance for a moment, but Snape didn’t allow him the opportunity to act.

“Why must it always be difficult with you?” This time at least, Harry was expecting it when Snape began pulling him inside as he continued to rant. “If you believe you're behaviour is making my life more difficult you are sorely mistaken. You've accomplished nothing except diminishing my already infinitesimal respect for you. You are every bit as entitled and immature as your overrated father. And your mother...”

Harry, who had been trying to tune Snape out, looked up at the mention of his mother. As far as he could remember, there hadn’t been a time when Snape had ever spoken of her. Snape looked right back at him, his lip curling in immense disgust as he carried on.

“It sickens me to see how you continue to waste her sacrifice. To think she had to die only to leave behind the likes of you. If she could have known what a disappointment you would become...” Snape shook his head and trailed off, his scowl deepening.

Harry tried to stop walking, but Snape would not let him. The world was being drowned out by the sudden roaring in his ears. His breath was coming in quiet gasps as he struggled to let air in. His hands were shaking and his legs too felt wobbly as he struggled to keep the pace the man was setting. Snape either didn’t notice or more likely didn’t care and when they got to Harry's room, the Potions master was all too happy to close the door between them.

Harry sagged against the door as soon as the professor's footsteps faded. He was vaguely grateful that Snape had gone, but it didn’t relieve the sting of the man's words. It didn’t save him from having to recognize the truth in what he'd said.

He curled in on himself, trying to remember how it was he'd managed breathing before all this. Trying not to think of how he had failed in every important aspect of his life. He tried to ignore the crushing knowledge that he wasn't good enough now and he never could be. Tried to push away the crippling fear that was overtaking him as he realised how many people had died and were still dying because he simply couldn’t do anything.

Tears leaked from his eyes as his throat constricted, some part of him was terrifyingly sure he was going to die right there. A smaller part of him welcomed the idea. Harry curled up further, wrapping his arms around himself as if that could keep him together as his world crumbled apart.