It was almost a relief when the first colourful hints of daybreak streaked across the sky outside his window. Harry had not moved from his spot on the floor in hours, his every muscle tense and stiff in the wake of his breakdown. He didn’t like the idea of calling it that, but he couldn’t describe it as anything else. Something inside him had broken, as though something at his very foundation had shifted and given way under a wave of emotion leaving him with only a profound feeling of loss.
Something made him stand now, drew him over to peer out the window and witness the birth of a new day. The soft morning sun made its way into his room, pushing away the darkness that had gathered inside of him. It was the subtlest reminder that nothing had changed and as he'd fought with his inner demons, the rest of the world had calmly carried on without him. It felt rather suddenly as though he could go back, as if he could just pretend everything was okay; pretending was all he was good at.
Mentally he groped for it, searching to recover the strength that had kept him going throughout the worst at the Dursley's. Some trace of the will that had allowed him to hide his fragile self behind one mask or another over the years. But there was nothing left of it just now, and even in discovering that, he felt no surprise. He had spent the better part of these last hours trying to no avail to find some flaw in the truth Snape had exposed him to.
The memory of his parents had always been a source of strength for him. He'd possessed a deep almost instinctual knowledge of their love for him, and had always believed that they would have accepted him. He had never been at home among the relatives who detested him for being like his parents, but the very reason for their dislike had been a hope he'd clung to. He always knew he would have made his real parents proud, even if they were the only ones. He'd never wanted to be like the cold uncaring people he was surrounded by anyway.
When he'd learned the truth of his origins, he'd done his best to continue his parent's legacy. Hiding behind his fame so no one would remember the runty, quiet, disappointing first year that had walked into Hogwarts years ago. He could still recall the sceptical looks he'd received, the whispers that had swelled the moment his back was turned. He could still see the question in everyone's eyes: where was the hero they'd been waiting for?
It had been painful, but he'd learned to smile, to speak out, to pretend he belonged. And then the comments had started. His professors wouldn’t stop gushing about how like his parents he was becoming. They thought him talented and charming and for the first time he felt proud of who they saw in him, even if it wasn’t real.
And he'd wanted so badly for it to be real. He'd worked towards creating that illusion for years. He had hoped it would become easier with time, but it had become increasingly difficult to keep up the lie. It had become so hard to cover the gaps between the person everyone thought he was and his real self. But he always kept it going because he desperately needed to keep that tenuous link he still had to the lives of his parents.
It was as though he had been teetering on the precipice of despair and with the barest touch, Snape had sent him tumbling down into some dark abyss. With one snide comment delivered in a moment of vulnerability, Snape had taken from him the farce on which he'd built his entire reality. Now with nothing to hide behind, he was forced to face the truth.
He wasn’t a legacy, he was a mess.
Harry sighed deeply, turning away from the window and setting himself to get ready for another wretched day.
He made his way down for breakfast at the appointed time. He put on a weak show of derision towards Snape's unsatisfactory efforts to feed him, wondering if he would get a rise out of the man. It was a minimal effort to keep up the usual act, but he hardly felt like going all out. Even so, Snape was content as usual to sip his coffee and ignore his presence altogether.
Relieved that Snape was paying him no mind, he quieted then, but kept a sullen expression on his face should Snape deign to look over at him.
Harry had no doubt that Snape was still curious about the memory he'd seen during last night's lesson, and was perhaps still angry about his attempt to run off. But if so, Snape showed no sign of interest in discussing any of it now, and Harry was not intent on reminding him. He ate as quickly as he could without drawing his professor's attention, wanting to remove himself from the man's company before he could decide to bring up any of yesterday's events.
His throat tightened with some combination of anxiety and anger at himself at the remembrance, and he swallowed his last mouthful of food with some difficulty and hastily excused himself.
***
Severus watched Potter all but run from the room, putting his own unfinished meal aside. It had not escaped his notice that the boy was acting curiously subdued this morning, and Severus was certain it could only be due to the unexpected turn of last night's events. Thinking back, he may have been a bit rougher than necessary with the boy, possibly that was the reason he'd thought he could disappear into the night while Severus slept.
Potter could not have known that Severus had been wide awake when the wards went off, and that he would reach front door in moments to investigate the breach. Perhaps the boy had not slept much after that. Sleep had not claimed Severus ultimately either. Long repressed visions of Lily had plagued him all throughout the night. He could not help but regret having pushed so far back into Potter's memories. Having reawakened painful recollections in his own mind was proving to be acutely torturous.
Even so, Severus wanted nothing more than to revisit the boy's mind. It was all too easy to forget the more favourable side of the boy's parentage, but now that he knew there was still a vestige of Lily's life left in the boy. No matter how painful it would be, he felt compelled to gain access to any early memories the boy possessed. Did he not owe her that much? It was the least he could do to share in the pain he himself had played an integral role in causing her.
However, Severus recognized wallowing in self-pity was hardly a productive usage of his time. He stood, vanishing the remnants of breakfast with a flick of his wand and removing the dirty dishes to the sink to be dealt with later. He left the kitchen behind, heading downstairs. He sought to immerse himself in a more productive task, anything to stop him from indulging in sombre reminiscence of what was past.
He entered the basement potions lab with some reluctance. He was not overly fond of the small cluttered space, especially when compared to the spacious accommodations of his Hogwarts facilities. Although he had purchased the ingredients and equipment he needed to bring the lab up to date, there was still much work to be done in organising and putting away the new materials. Regrettably, he would not be able to brew comfortably for several days hence.
When the house had passed into his possession years ago, the first thing Severus had done was to renovate to create a suitable space for his potions work. The room was located on the middle floor and was significantly larger and better furnished. Unfortunately, there had been an incident that had rendered the room unusable for a time. He had been forced to set up a temporary lab in the basement. But his thrown together lab had stopped being temporary as time passed without signs of improvement in the original. He had eventually moved away without giving it further thought, an act he now lamented.
However, the task of organising the sorry room was not what had brought him to the lab at that moment. He spotted the item he was looking for just where he had left it. Of late he had begun tampering with the recipes for several outdated potions and yesterday he had been very lucky indeed to find an out of print volume of Ancient Potions of the Most Obscure Order. He planned on perusing its contents before lunch, it was certain to be illuminating. He took the precious tome back upstairs into the sitting room, setting light to the fireplace and settling down beside it.
Within minutes he was utterly absorbed in his reading. He was unaware of the passing of time until a violent burst of light and sound stole his attention. Severus was on his feet with his wand at the ready by the time Albus Dumbledore stepped out from the fireplace. A curse died on his lips as Severus recognized the figure beneath the mantel.
He lowered his wand instantly, cautiousness replaced by a moderate curiosity. “What brings you here so suddenly, Albus? Has something happened?” he queried.
“My apologies, Severus. My intention was not to startle you,” the old wizard said with a twinkle in his eye that belied his words. “I merely wished to check in.”
Severus grimaced. “Is that so. Well in that case, there has been little change in the situation on my end. The boy continues to frustrate and annoy, and I remain convinced these lessons are a wasted endeavour.”
Dumbledore nodded. “I see. So he has not progressed, that is indeed disappointing. However it is early and Harry is a gifted child to be sure, you must give him more time before making any final judgements.”
Severus's lip curled with unchecked loathing. The headmaster may believe the boy was special, but Severus had encountered nothing but evidence to the contrary. “I fear you may be wrong in that regard, Albus,” he said blandly. “But surely hearing my trite observations cannot be the only reason for your visit.”
“Indeed it is not,” he said gravely. “As you are well aware, Voldemort is on the move once more and, no doubt emboldened by the inaction of the ministry, he is growing more dangerous by the day.”
“What has happened, Albus?” Severus prodded.
“A second attempt has been made to retrieve the prophecy. Broderick Bode has been admitted to St. Mungo's for his efforts, however we cannot know the circumstances in their entirety until he is well again. Although I do believe we can confidently assert that this will not be the last attempt.” The headmaster paused to let the information sink in. “Tell me, has Harry had any visions since last we spoke?”
Severus shook his head slightly. “Not to my knowledge, I would have informed you if he had,” he answered, deciding not to take offence from the question.
Dumbledore looked slightly relieved. “That is good news. It appears Voldemort has not targeted Harry's mind as of yet, perhaps your instruction is helping more than you credit.”
“Perhaps,” Severus replied non-committally. “I do wish you would reconsider your stance on informing the boy of the prophecy. Even if he cannot know its contents, at the very least he should be apprised of its existence.”
The headmaster eyed him carefully. “I am sorry, Severus, however I strongly believe that is information best left unknown. What we have discussed here must remain between you and I alone, it is far too dangerous otherwise.”
“I understand your hesitation, however we must think through the consequences of leaving him so utterly in the dark. You have not seen him in his lessons as I have, the boy simply does not care. If I could be allowed to explain even in part–”
“I must insist that you do not,” Dumbledore cut in sharply. “We cannot have him attempting to seek it out. Should Harry find out about the prophecy we could very well be giving up the one advantage that could ensure our victory. Indeed I have put him in your capable hands because you have proven your ability to overcome great odds. If Harry refuses to learn, I expect you will find a way to persuade him without divulging more than he is required to know.”
Severus knew there would be no talking the old man out of his carefully plotted machinations. “As you say, Albus,” he conceded with a sigh. “But what about the unfortunate matter of–” He stopped short, certain he had just seen a movement in the periphery of his vision. “Show yourself, Potter. I know you are there,” he commanded.
Guilty green eyes looked in from the doorway as the boy stepped into the light. “Hello, Professor...Oh, I didn’t realise you were here too, Professor Dumbledore. Am I interrupting?”
“How much did you hear?” Severus asked.
Potter cocked his head, and furrowed his brow. “I didn’t hear anything, I'd only just got here when you called to me.” The boy lied rather unconvincingly, how he had managed to so completely fool so many of his colleagues Severus would never understand.
“This is no time to lie, Potter,” he said, a threat lurking just beneath the surface.
“Come now, Severus,” Dumbledore chided, “there is no reason to assume he is lying.”
“I do not need to assume anything, it is written all over the boy's face.”
“I'm sorry, really. You’re clearly in the middle of something, I’ll just come round later,” Potter said, the picture of innocence.
“No need to worry, Mr. Potter. I was just on my way out.” The elder wizard turned back to Severus. “Do have a think on what we discussed,” he said, turning towards the fireplace.
“Wait!” Potter blurted, “if you have a moment, I...er...can't we talk for a bit?” Severus noted a touch of desperation in the boy's voice, and the judging by the blotches of colour that appeared on his cheeks, Potter must have realised it as well.
The headmaster shook his head, suddenly appearing preoccupied. “Perhaps another time. I must see to several matters which still await my attention.”
Potter nodded slowly, regaining his composure. “Right, of course.”
With a wave and an explosion of green, the headmaster was gone and Severus immediately rounded on the younger wizard.
“Well, what did you want then?” he demanded sharply, annoyed that their meeting had been cut short because of the boy.
“Sir?”
Severus pursed his lips, attempting to find some hidden vestige of patience within himself. “I believed it to be a simple enough question, and yet here you are gawping at me like a fish. Obviously some triviality has brought you from the comfort of your room before mealtime. So I will say it slowly this time: what is it you want?”
Potter struggled for a moment, likely trying to bring forth what he believed to be a persuasive and articulate speech, one he'd likely been rehearsing just before he'd begun eavesdropping, Severus thought dubiously.
Then suddenly he squared his shoulders and spoke boldly. “I'd like permission to go outside. You can't keep me inside forever and I need a break from this horrid, bleak excuse for a house.”
Already tiring of Potter's presence, Severus pushed aside his irritation at the boy's blatant disrespect. “And what of your assignments?”
“They're nearly finished. But like I said, I just need a little break.”
“Then I am afraid I will not consider it,” Severus replied coolly. “I have seen the quality of work you produce when left to your own devices. Your assignments take priority and until they are completed your recreation time will continue to be severely limited.”
Potter's expression darkened and Severus braced himself for a tantrum. “My work isn’t going to improve if I have to be miserable the whole time I'm working on it. I still have weeks after all, a couple of hours isn’t going to hurt anything.”
“I have already given you my answer, Potter. I suggest you return to your room or–”
“Or you'll drag me there and lock me in, right?” Potter spat. “I'm not your prisoner and I won't let you treat me like one!”
In a fluid motion Severus's hand whipped out pointing one slender finger into Harry's chest and pushing him with ease back towards the wall. Eyes wide, Potter stumbled backward, keenly aware of how effortlessly he was overpowered. Severus did not fall back and too quickly for the boy to think of a countermeasure, he had Potter pinned against the wall with nowhere to run.
Severus leaned forward menacingly until they were nearly nose to nose and Potter recoiled as far as he was able.
“You liken your accommodations here to imprisonment? That is a gross exaggeration, but hardly a surprise coming from one who has never experienced any actual hardship. If you think you are suffering now, believe me when I say it could be much worse. I know spells that would have you chained to your desk writing until your hands cramped and your fingers bled while your eyes shrivelled and dried in their sockets. I could easily ensure that you never experienced another moment of contentment in this house. With a snap of my fingers I could have you begging for the luxury of simply being left alone in your room. You should consider yourself fortunate for the ample patience I have shown you thus far.”
“You...you wouldn’t actually...Dumbledore wouldn’t let you...” The teen was flustered and there was nothing approaching conviction behind his words.
A mirthless smile spread his thin lips. “Whatever the privileges you had in the past, I am under no obligation to provide the same level of comfort and freedom as you have received from your family or even at Hogwarts. I am here to ensure that you learn, and it doesn’t matter if you find my methods unfair because no one will come and “save” you no matter how loudly you complain. The headmaster has given me a goal and I can assure you he hasn’t the faintest concern for how I go about achieving it.”
Severus took in Potter's rapidly paling features with satisfaction and straightened himself. He let his hand fall away to clasp the other behind his back as he stepped away. Potter, for once correctly assessing his disadvantageous position, kept his silence. Perhaps he was getting through to the boy after all.
Still, Severus let the boy squirm for a moment before continuing. “However, if you are truly so miserable, I am in this instance willing to compromise.”
Potter blinked, bewilderment succeeding his earlier fear. Naturally, those were not the next words he'd expected to hear. He smiled eagerly, but a moment later his face clouded with unease.
“What did you have in mind?” Potter asked suspiciously, as though Severus would change his mind at any moment and chain him to his desk after all. But Severus had said it and he meant it. He knew just what he'd have the boy do.
“I believe it could be beneficial for both of us if I allowed you to burn off a little of your excess energy. Therefore, you will be putting aside your holiday assignments this afternoon in favour of a few chores.”
The boy deflated, and Severus could practically see his excitement dissolving back into an intangible wisp of longing.
Potter crossed his arms and scowled. “Chores again? Forget it. I'll just go back to my room,” he said, manoeuvring around his professor to get at the door.
Severus swiftly side-stepped to block his way. “I was not giving you a choice in the matter, you will begin your task after lunch and that is final, is that understood?”
“Of course, sir.” The boy’s tone was sullen but since he wasn’t actively protesting, Severus was willing to ignore it for now.
“Good.” Severus said by way of dismissal.
Potter glared at him hatefully, his hands clenched into fists but he proceeded wordlessly out of the room as soon as the way was clear.
The boy ate his lunch with exaggerated slowness, as though it could affect what was to come when he at last finished. Severus, however, was unimpressed.
“Potter, cease this stalling at once or I shall be forced to relieve you of your meal,” he snapped after watching for a time with growing impatience.
The instant Potter swallowed his last bite, Severus stood and bid the boy to follow.
Severus led the way down a hall and opened a large door, gesturing his charge inside and following after the boy passed warily into the unfamiliar room.
He cast a shrewd eye on Potter. The boy truly was an open book, unable to keep his simple thoughts from parading all over his face. Potter wrinkled his nose in distaste. Severus was well aware the room had a powerful smell, one which was strange if not entirely unpleasant. Potter glanced around, as though expecting to find the source of the uncomfortable odour, but in finding nothing obvious, he quickly took in the other elements of the room.
The room was lined with cabinets and empty shelves, and in the centre was a labyrinth of counters and worktables. A row of clerestory windows along one wall illuminated the room and allowed a good look at the state of it. Severus could see the growing dismay in the boy's features as he noticed one very important detail.
It was filthy. Everything from the coffered ceiling to the worn laminate floor was covered in dust and grime. Severus watched with a glimmer of amusement as the boy turned back to him.
“What would you have me do?” Potter asked with resignation, already knowing what the answer would be.
“As you can undoubtedly see, this room has not been in use for quite some time. However, since I am to be taking up residence here for the duration of the holidays, I intend to utilize it once more as a potions lab as it is larger and the trappings are superior to the lab located in the basement.”
“If it's so much better, how did you let it get to this state?” the teen asked with an air of petulance.
“It happened years ago when one of my less stable potions exploded. The room was filled with a noxious gas too dangerous to let out or expel by magical means. I was forced to remove everything and furnish a temporary workspace in the basement. I've not had the desire nor the opportunity to tend to it since then,” he finished candidly.
“You managed to explode a potion?” The brat actually sniggered, a sound all too reminiscent of his father and Severus found his ire returning.
Severus scowled. “Yes, Potter. Naturally that was the only detail your infantile mind took away from that narrative. It was an experiment that went wrong, and a far more complex and intricate potion than you could ever hope to comprehend.”
The teen sobered, finally realising the implications of the rest of the story and looked at him with alarm. “You mentioned a poison gas. Is that what this smell is? Is it even safe to breathe in here?” He didn't wait for an answer before covering his nose and stepping outside of the doorway coughing.
Severus all but rolled his eyes at the boy's dramatics. “I'm sure I could find a more inventive way of ensuring your demise, Potter. It has been years since that incident, the gas is no longer present, though it seems to have left a thin film over all the surfaces of the room. That is where you come in: I will provide the tools necessary and you will see to removing it. I am advising you now that magical interaction with the residue is potentially catastrophic, so I suggest you do not try anything “clever”.”
With that, he slipped his wand down into his hand and Accio'd a bucket and scrub brush as well as some gloves and a face mask. He gave the bucket a single tap with his wand and Potter watched unhappily as it filled with warm soapy water.
The Golden Boy looked at the cleaning equipment, disgust and indignation overtaking his features. “So you expect me to get down on my hands and knees and scrub the floor like a common house-elf?”
“Hardly,” Severus replied with a raised brow, “the posture you affect will be left entirely up to you. I will leave you to it, I expect it will take quite some time,” he said, sweeping out of the room and leaving the disgruntled teenager behind.
Severus walked away contented with the dual outcomes of the task he had assigned. If he set the boy to it everyday, it was possible to have his original lab functioning again long before the end of the holiday. And of course it was immensely gratifying to imagine the boy-who-lived engaged in hard labour for what was likely the first time in his pampered life.
However his satisfaction died away once he was no longer in proximity to the boy, and he was quickly overcome once again with the melancholy he'd sought to escape. Being in that room had only exacerbated the intensity of the emotion. It had after all been Lily who had given him the idea to improve the potion in the first place.
It had been a take on one of the first potions they had made together as children outside of Hogwarts. Even though by then it had been years since they'd spoken properly, some part of him had wanted to be able to tell her one day that he'd finally done it. He'd almost believed she would laugh with him again when he told her of his disastrous first attempt. But then she had been killed later that year, long before he had perfected the recipe.
It was then that the painful memories this property held for him began to outweigh the good. It was not long afterwards that he had left the house behind.
He closed his eyes, packing away the memories and emotions securely behind his Occlumency shields. But it left only emptiness behind and in some ways, that was worse.
Once again in desperate need of occupation, Severus returned to the sitting room to carry on with his study. With some effort, reading and annotating the book provided an adequate distraction and it was an hour or so later when he managed to tear himself away from its novel content to check on the boy's progress.
He approached silently, wanting to take Potter by surprise if he was indeed slacking off. He peered into the room, disappointed when he saw that Potter was not lazing about as he had anticipated. In fact he seemed to be engaged in an intense battle with a particularly stubborn patch of filth. After observing for a minute, Severus decided to leave without informing the boy of his inspection.
Severus whipped up a curry and rice for dinner, plating the meal just as the sixth chime of a distant clock rang out. He served himself a generous portion, feeling surprisingly hungry for the first time in a few days. He waited expectantly for Potter to show himself. The boy had been generally punctual when he decided to show up for meals, and he would no doubt be starving and irritable after a proper day's work. The minutes passed and still the boy did not come and with more annoyance than concern, Severus made his way back to that accursed room.
He was met with the rather sorry sight of a weary looking Potter still scrubbing diligently at the walls. It cheered him slightly to see the boy was indeed feeling the effects of his work.
“That is enough for today.” Severus's sharp voice sliced through his concentration and the boy looked up curiously. “Dinner is served and if you wish to partake, now would be the time.”
Potter quickly checked his watch,“I didn’t realise how late it’d got,” he said, climbing unsteadily off of a ladder.
“Clearly. See that you pay attention next time. I will not extend you this courtesy in future.” Severus stepped in and looked around the room. “You have made little progress,” he commented mildly. He left out that the boy had made respectable headway considering the short time allotted.
Potter bristled.“Well I didn't see you jumping in to help.”
Severus ignored the retort. “No matter, there will be plenty of time in the days to come,” he said re-entering the hallway with Potter at his heels.
“I thought you said my assignments were the priority,” he said, struggling to keep up with his professor's long strides.
“Then you will recall I also said I was willing to compromise. I am trusting that you will find a way to balance your time between the two activities.”
Potter seated himself eagerly when they reached the dining area, no doubt welcoming the delightful aroma of food after being shut in that stagnant room for hours on end. He dove right into his meal and Severus watched for a moment with mounting disgust as the teen shovelled forkfuls of food into his gaping mouth. He ate his own meal with considerably less enthusiasm after that.
“Can I ask you a question, sir?” Potter surprised him by breaking the silence and he raised a curious brow in an indication that he could continue.
“I have a couple of guesses already, but...this was obviously a nice house once, what made you stop living here?” he asked.
Severus's neutral countenance twisted and soured, anger creasing his brow. To hear that question posed so flippantly, and by the spawn of the man who's callousness had helped put such a taint on this place no less; it was a mockery he could not abide.
“That is none of your concern.” He spoke so sharply the boy flinched.
Potter back-pedalled frantically. “I'm sorry, I didn’t mean–” He was cut short as the professor abruptly stood, ignoring his words.
“Finish your meal, your lesson will begin shortly, do not be late.” The Potions master left in an agitated swirl of robes.
The dam had broken and Severus was positively seething, he wanted nothing more to do with the impudent brat for a time. He knew that his response had been largely irrational. That the boy's question had in all likelihood been innocent. He also realised that by reacting so violently to the inquiry, he had almost certainly aroused the boy's curiosity considerably more than a simple lie would have done.
Even so, he needed every last minute before the lesson began to regain a semblance of calm.
***
Harry stood as soon as Snape entered the sitting room, eyeing the moody professor with apprehension. He had been racking his mind trying to figure out just why the question had affected the man so. But he had not said anything offensive, he had even kept his tone in check in hopes of getting an actual answer. In fact he was almost sure he hadn’t done anything wrong, Snape had simply overreacted to some imagined offence.
Snape didn’t appear to be angry any more, but Harry knew the man was capable of concealing his emotions when he wanted to and he didn’t want to take any chances. He didn’t want a repeat of the aftermath of last night's lesson.
“Professor, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you earlier,” he said as contritely as he could manage.
“You can save your insincere apologies for someone else, Potter. You did not upset me,” the man said. Harry awaited further explanation but none came and he certainly wasn’t going to argue the point if the man didn’t want to speak of it.
“Oh...er, all right. If you say so,” he shrugged, earning himself a narrow-eyed look from Snape.
Without further prevarication, the professor took out his wand, aiming it at his student. “Prepare yourself, we are about to begin.”
“Give me a moment.” Harry quickly took out his own wand, closing his eyes and clearing away all raw thought and emotion and leaving accessible only the most benign memories. It proved more difficult than it had been on the previous day; he was more fatigued than he'd imagined.
Snape of course grew impatient. “Are you ready?”
Harry opened his eyes trying to look more determined than he felt. He was sure Snape was going to try to find the memory he'd stumbled upon yesterday and as much as Harry had tried to prepare for that, there was no guarantee he could keep the man at bay.
“Legilimens!”
He was back in the kitchen watching Snape storm out of the room, utterly baffled by what he'd just witnessed...He was scrubbing the walls, frustration mounting when the grime refused to budge...
Harry felt a distant thrill of surprise. The memories were not the ones he'd anticipated, Snape was only looking at what had happened today. His mind raced, and suddenly he knew what the professor sought after. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to edit a memory when Snape was already in his mind, but he knew he had to try. He located the incriminating memory before Snape did.
He was eating lunch so slowly, his food had long since gone cold....Harry pulled the memory apart, removing a portion from the centre. He was in his room, angry and dreading whatever task Snape had in store....He took the bulk of the memory, packing it away with all of his more unpleasant memories. Dumbledore disappeared into the flames, if only he knew what he'd done wrong....He pieced the remains of the memory back together. He hears a faint voice from the sitting room and walks over as Snape calls him inside...
Snape pulled out of his mind frowning slightly. “It seems you were telling the truth after all,” he said more to himself than to Harry. Harry had found himself as usual on the ground panting, but this time it was with both exhaustion and exhilaration that he'd somehow managed to fool the man. In reality, Snape's suspicions had been entirely correct. Harry had heard almost everything that had passed between the two older wizards in this room earlier.
The knowledge that they were hiding something that could be so important to him had infuriated him. Who were they to say how much he should know about his own life? When would they finally learn that he could handle the whole truth? He wasn’t a child any more and he fully intended to find out what they were hiding from him the moment the opportunity arose.
He stood as he got his breath back, and Snape went on his usual tirade.
“That was miserable as usual, Potter. I encountered no resistance whatsoever from you and I was able to navigate through your alarmingly simplistic mind with ease. We will go again.”
Harry prepared himself for a second round, feeling rather more confident this time.
“Legilimens!”
Cho Chang was drawing nearer to him under the mistletoe...A hundred dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake... Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair...He was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin...
No, no, no, no...Harry fought to push the man away, he was going in too deep. But Snape hardly seemed to notice his efforts. The images continued to flash by, the memories getting older.
He was ten, watching Uncle Vernon hammering the letter box shut... He was seven and Piers was shoving his face into a toilet, his cousin laughing behind him...He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy...
“Stop!” He lunged forward blindly going for Snape and the man’s presence left his mind on contact. They both fell to the floor but Harry immediately scrambled back to his feet, certain the now enraged man would throttle him if he stayed too close.
“What the bloody hell are you thinking, Potter?” he snarled, rising swiftly. “How many times must I repeat myself before it penetrates that exceptionally dense skull of yours: You must resist me with your mind. Occlumency requires masterful self-control and a refined psyche, your barbaric methods will get you nowhere!”
Harry almost by habit went on the defensive. “I'm trying! I've done everything you said and it hasn’t made a bit of difference! Besides, it worked didn’t it?”
“It did no such thing,” the professor snapped. “I retreated from your mind of my own volition. The Dark Lord will tear your underdeveloped mind to shreds if this is the apex of your ability!”
“I don’t think there will be much left after you’re done with it,” Harry grumbled, massaging his throbbing temples.
Snape sneered down at him, eyes hard and devoid of sympathy. “You will become accustomed to the sensation over time. I will not be going easy on you, it is imperative that you improve quickly. Now, prepare yourself.”
His wand was pointing at Harry again and he had to suppress a groan. He was still panting slightly and he was so knackered he could hardly keep himself upright, but he resolved that even if he had to tackle the man again, he would not let Snape see any more.
Harry took a shaky breath and braced himself, focusing on a particular memory as the professor cried “Legilimens!”.
A hundred dementors were swooping towards him across the lake in the grounds...They were coming closer...He could see the dark holes beneath their hoods...yet this time, he could also see Snape standing in front of him, his eyes fixed upon Harry’s face, muttering under his breath... Somehow, Snape was growing clearer, and the dementors were growing fainter...
Harry raised his own wand.
“Protego!”
Snape staggered, his wand flying away from Harry and suddenly the scenes flashing through his mind were entirely unfamiliar.
A hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner...A greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies...A girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick...
“ENOUGH!” Snape roared and Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest. He lurched backward, nearly losing his footing. Snape was shaking slightly, his face drained of blood.
He was so disoriented it took Harry a moment to realise what he'd done. Somehow he had broken into Snape's own memories! He grinned at the rattled man before him, revelling in the shock of his victory, that is, until a moment later the room tilted on its side and everything went dark.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the long wait, here's day 3!
Chapter 5: Ragged Edge