Atonement & Vengeance by Lady Cascade

The weekend went by pleasantly. On Saturday morning the tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch team were held and it turned out to be a very chaotic afternoon. The tryouts lasted two hours and involved many complaints and several tantrums, even involving someone crashing their Comet into one of the goalposts, resulting in several broken teeth.

Eventually the players for the team were chosen. Ginny and Demelza Robins joined Katie Bell as Chasers, Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote were chosen for the Beaters positions and Ron and Harry retained their positions as Keeper and Seeker.

A handful of students from Gryffindor and some from other houses had sat and watched, curious how the tryouts would go down. Luna and Kai-Enna were there as well, the latter of which ran up to Harry after he had changed back in his casual clothes.

"Harry, do you have some time this afternoon? I'm having a lot of trouble with the Stunning Spell."

"Oh, er," Harry started and looked around to ask Ron if he had any other plans for the afternoon.

"If you're busy we could do it some other time?" Kai-Enna said quickly.

"No way, we could do with some practice as well!" Suddenly Ginny, Ron, Katie and Seamus were next to them, enthusiastically urging him to join them in the Room of Requirement. Harry relented and made his way with them to the seventh floor. Kai-Enna followed them with a smile, but Harry couldn't help but notice she looked a bit deflated.

They spent the afternoon practising spells and jinxes. Harry helped Kai-Enna get started on her Stunning Spell, but was soon taken apart by the other sixth years who interrogated him on his nonverbal spellwork. Again, it was a funny undertaking as Harry watched his classmates huff and puff trying to get their spells to work without uttering an incantation. He himself had a little trouble the first few times, which led the others to mock him about how his first success must have been a fluke. Yet after only a few tries he was able to summon cushions to him from the other side of the room without uttering a word. He felt a rush of excitement after each successful attempt and vowed to himself to practise a lot in order to have complete control. He couldn't help but feel this was going to give him an advantage in the war.

Come dinnertime they all left the Room of Requirement in high spirits. The physical exercise, in combination with the verbal sparring, had helped to blow of some steam from the first week of school, which had proved to be every bit as exhausting as the teachers had promised.

Kai-Enna had come to him to thank him personally for the help, even shook his hand awkwardly, before heading off to the Hufflepuff table. Harry frowned quizzically at Ginny, but she only pursed her lips before heading off to find Demelza Robins at the Gryffindor table.

Harry just shrugged and joined Ron and Hermione for dinner, not sure what the younger girls were on about, but finding he really didn't have enough energy to spend considering their mysterious behaviour. With everything else he had going on it was a challenge not to feel overwhelmed as it was. The first week at school was a lot to take in, and Harry was glad he could spend his Sunday with his friends, lazing about. Of course, Hermione pushed them to get their schoolwork done, but Ron and Harry managed to evade her meddling long enough to play some games of Exploding Snap.

All too soon Sunday turned to Monday and they were back in the classrooms. Flitwick and McGonagall were brutal in assigning their homework, both not pleased with the lack of progress the students were making on their subjects. Snape was his usual dour self and warned them he would kick some of them out of his NEWT class if they didn't start to show any improvement.

It had been a long and trying day when Harry made his way to the Potions Master's office for Occlumency, and a dull headache was ever present to annoy him. With a renewed sense of dread and anxiety he knocked at the door.

"Enter."

Harry slipped inside and took a look around the office. Where Snape usually had gotten rid of the chair in front of his desk prior to their lesson, there were now two comfortable looking armchairs facing each other in front of a calmly burning fire. The odd thing was that the chairs were so close to one another that Harry had to look twice to make sure they were not actually touching. There was no table between them or next to them, just two chairs sitting on a rug.

"Sit down," Snape said and pointed in the direction of the chairs.

Harry hesitated, quite sure that Snape would be occupying one of them as well and not feeling comfortable at the prospect of having the snarky man in such close proximity.

"Now, Potter. We don't have all evening," Snape ordered irritably.

With dread, he moved towards the chair that was closest to the door and as he sat down he tried to scoot the chair a little backwards to get further away from the opposite chair before Snape would swoop down in it.

But Snape did not sit down yet. Instead he shrugged off his outer robes and pushed his sleeves up a little. Harry could just make out a tiny bit of the Dark Mark etched in his skin and he quickly averted his eyes, suddenly feeling as if he was intruding by staring.

"I have spent the weekend considering different options for our lessons. I have consulted with the Headmaster and he seems adamant that we try a more... gentle approach."

"And do you agree with him, sir?"

Snape glanced at Harry over his shoulder. "Yes. I must admit the notion seemed unpleasant at best. But as the Headmaster says, it couldn't hurt to try." He sneered as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard of.

He pulled out his wand and put it on his desk, far out of reach. Then turned around and held up his hand expectantly.

"Your wand."

"What?"

"Give me your wand, Potter."

Harry felt his heart-rate quicken. "Why?"

"Because you have no need for it this evening. Like I said, we will try a different method. And I would prefer not to be at the receiving end of your temper tantrums again." Snape cast him a knowing look.

Harry hesitated.

"Or we could just stop these lessons altogether," Snape sneered.

Harry shot him a glare as he reluctantly pulled out his wand and handed it over to the Professor, who put it down next to his own on the desk. With a wave of his hand he then dimmed the other lights in the room so that the only source of light was the fire next to the chairs. Harry rather thought it added to the creepiness of the scene but didn't comment on it as Snape moved towards the other chair and sat down in it. Their knees were almost touching and Harry had to suppress the urge to squirm in his seat.

"Occlumency," Snape started off in his teacher-like voice, "is more than just protecting your mind from an attack by a Legilimens. It is the art of sifting through your memories, discarding those that are insignificant and keeping close those that hold value. It is the ability to detach yourself from certain memories, being able to view them objectively, as an observer if you will, rather than drown yourself in them. The latter will make it all the more difficult to claw your way back out and prevents you from performing any kind of occlusion."

Harry furrowed his brows, not sure what the man meant by that.

"For example," Snape continued at Harry's confused look, "if the Dark Lord chooses to pull forth a particular painful memory, you will not be able to detach yourself from it. It will engulf you, pulling you down in the turmoil of emotions. Trapping you in a sense. And by doing so, preventing you from fighting back."

"It does feel like I'm drowning every time you perform Legilimency on me. It feels as if there is nothing else but that memory and I can't push it away," Harry said.

Snape nodded. "Whenever I'm inside your mind, an unstoppable train of unpleasant memories takes over. I am not pulling those memories from the recesses of your mind, your mind pulls them forth on its own. It has become the natural reaction of your mind."

"But why?" Harry asked.

"It seems that you have more distressing memories than most your age. And they are powerful enough to overshadow the more pleasant memories you might have. As you have had some very trying experiences in your live, many of which involving the Dark Lord of course, it is not very surprising that they have rooted deep within you. And it is also possible that you have not come to terms with all those experiences, which prevents you to detach yourself from the related memories and treat them objectively enough to dismiss them when a mental attack occurs."

"Professor, I have accepted all those things. It is something I have become used to by now. It is not as if I go around feeling sorry for myself all the time."

"Perhaps you seem to have accepted it for the outside world. Your mind is telling me something else, however. Like I said before, you do not have the ability yet to hide your mind, your deepest desires and regrets, from me."

"You don't know me," Harry said through clenched teeth, feeling extremely uncomfortable at the thought that Snape knew more about him than he himself did.

"More than you know," Snape replied solemnly while turning his head to stare into the fire.

Harry frowned at the lack of response he got from the Professor and felt a dull frustration rise up his chest.

"Well, what do you propose we do then? If I can't detach myself from the horrible memories in my mind, what good will practising do?"

Snape looked back at him and his black eyes bored into his. "You will need a guide, an anchor if you will. We will need to sift through your memories gently and together. We need to force you to immerse yourself in the memories that seem to have such a hold on you."

Harry shifted in his seat. He did not like the sound of that. At all.

"I won't say it will be easy, it will in fact be rather unpleasant. But I and the Headmaster are convinced this is the only way to take back control over your own mind. If you don't trust my judgement, at least trust his."

It was Harry's turn to stare into the fire. The calm cackling sound of the flames slowly burning away the wood helped to calm his nerves and sort his thoughts. The only way... He had told himself that he would do whatever it took to control his mind, to shut out the visions Voldemort sent his way. He owed it to everyone he had put in danger in the past, for his lack of mental control. He owed it to Sirius...

"Fine," he heard his own voice say, feeling eerily detached from himself.

"There is one more thing," Snape said in response and Harry suddenly found that Snape was the one looking uncomfortable. "The Headmaster and I believe that the visions of the Dark Lord are not only the result of him breaking into your mind, but rather you breaking into his."

Harry's head snapped up and he looked at Snape incredulously. "You think I deliberately delve into his mind to see all that? You really think I want to?" he said angrily.

"I did not say that, you idiot," Snape replied crossly before taking a few breaths to keep his temper in check. "I don't think you do this deliberately. It is probably a side-effect of the connection you share with the Dark Lord. As you have visions when he is experiencing a particular intense emotion, so too do these visions occur when your own emotions are heightened. This tells me that just occluding your mind will not completely rid you of the visions. Therefore we will make an attempt at Legilimency as well."

"Do you think he is aware of me then?" Harry asked with unease.

Snape hesitated for a fraction before allowing himself to continue, choosing his words carefully.

"I have no evidence to support that he is experiencing similar visions of your day to day live in the same manner you do of his. However, it is unlikely that he is unaware of your connection to his mind, seeing as he deliberately sent you that vision last term. He does have some control over them, and might even feel your presence in his mind at times. But I don't think he is aware of you all the time."

Harry nodded and looked at his hands, trying to make his tumbling thoughts get back in order.

"Okay, so... Legilimency then. How will I learn that?" He finally asked quietly.

"I will guide you through your mind and my own," Snape said detachedly. "We will do so gently at first, and slowly get you to do it on your own. It will take a lot of practise, so I'm afraid we're stuck in this for the rest of the year," a hint of displeasure seeped through his voice.

"But that will involve me seeing your memories then? Deliberately, I mean," Harry said with unease.

"Yes, Potter, I'm glad to see some of my lectures managed to stick in that feeble brain of yours," Snape said, throwing him a dirty look. "And I hope I will not have to remind you that you gave your word not to utter anything you see here to anyone?"

"No, Professor. Of course not," Harry replied in earnest. Normally Snape's snarky comments were to be expected and considered perfectly normal. Right now, however, Harry had the distinct feeling that Snape lashed out because he was extremely uncomfortable about the whole Legilimency thing, and did not look forward to having Harry snoop around in his mind in the same way he did in Harry's. Somehow that made him feel a little better. They were both in this together, trying as it may be.

Snape gave a curt nod in acceptance of Harry's promise and moved to lay his forearms on his knees, his bare hands with his palms up.

"I have come to the conclusion that touch helps you to anchor your being and have more control over your mind and emotions. It helped you to recover from your visions in the past, and it will help with the mental sparring we're about to undertake. So I want you to lay your hands on mine before we get started."

Harry gulped and made no move to raise his hands from the armrest.

Snape looked him in the eye, annoyance showed clearly in his black orbs. But something else as well. Harry was surprised to find understanding in them.

"Believe me, Potter, I feel just as disinclined about this as you do. But if we want to make this work, we have no other choice but to keep going forward. Can I trust you to try?"

Harry stared at those black orbs, willing to find some form of reassurance in them.

"Yes," he replied with determination.

He moved his hands and hovered them over Snape's.

"And can I trust you to try?" He asked quietly.

Snape's eyes bored into his. "Yes," he said without hesitation.

Satisfied with that, Harry carefully laid his hands on Snape's and rested them there. Snape's hands felt a little rough, probably from years of cutting and grinding Potions ingredients.

"I want you to focus on your earliest memories of childhood. You don't have to do anything else. Don't try to throw me out, just let the memories play out."

Harry let out a small breath. This was it then.

"Ready?"

Harry nodded and stared into his teacher's eyes, focusing on memories of his younger years with the Dursleys.

"One, two, three, Legilimens." Snape's voice was calm and collected and Harry felt the presence entering his mind slowly. It was the most gentle feeling he had ever had in his experience with the mental arts. It occurred to Harry that Snape had not used a wand to initiate the spell and wondered if that was why if felt less harsh.

He felt like he was gently floating down, through a sea of memories, towards the ones of his childhood. Once he "landed" a scene materialized in his mind's eye. He was in the Dursley's kitchen and he was making breakfast. He figured he was about six years old and he was putting eggs in a skillet to make scrambled eggs for his family. In another pan some sausages and tomatoes were baking away. Today was an important day, for his uncle expected to get a promotion at work, so everything had to be perfect to start his day off well.

As young Harry took a large can of milk out of the fridge, older Harry shuddered in apprehension of the familiar scene.

As young Harry opened the can and was about to pour in the milk, Aunt Petunia stormed in and started yelling at him.

"Why are you using milk, boy! How many times do I have to tell you to use cream?"

The shock of her sudden and loud presence made Harry jump and the can slid out of his small hands and next thing he knew the kitchen floor was covered in milk.

"Look at what you're doing, you idiot!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "Clean this mess up. Quickly, before your uncle get's downstairs. I don't want anything to distract him from this important day."

"Sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry said in a small voice as he quickly grabbed some towels to mop up the spilt milk.

"You better be sorry," she snapped before she left the kitchen.

Once he had cleaned the floor he straightened and went back to the stove. To his horror, the sausages and tomatoes had burned in the meantime and the eggs he was supposed to scramble had turned out as a messy omelette.

He quickly turned off the stove and tried to see if he could save any of the sausages but none of them would be edible. As if on cue, the thundering sound of his uncle and cousin coming down the stairs could be heard.

As soon as his uncle entered the kitchen his angry eyes sought out the young boy and he advanced on him. Young Harry backed up into the kitchen counter, trying to make himself invisible to no avail. Uncle Vernon grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of his head and pulled him from the kitchen towards the hallway. He opened the cupboard under the stairs and threw his nephew in before locking the door shut.

"You better hope this does not have an effect on my workday, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted.

Fast forward to many hours later, the red face of his uncle was again visible through the cracks of the cupboard door. "There will be no dinner for you today, boy. You have cost me my promotion. I hope you're proud of yourself."

Snape's mind gave a nudge and another memory came into view.

This time young Harry was doing chores in his relatives' garden, working hard in the burning sun, with nothing to protect himself. This too resulted in his aunt yelling at him and berating him for laziness, as he had not finished everything in time.

Another nudge.

Young Harry was shoved hard against the wall of the hall with a menacing looking Uncle Vernon in his face. He was dragged out to the backyard and made to undress.

Harry felt Snape's presence in his mind tense at this, though he couldn't fathom why. This was one of the lesser punishments he had to endure.

Uncle Vernon grabbed his sweater and made him watch while he set it on fire. That morning he had gone to school with a green-coloured sweater, but he had come home with a red-coloured one. He had no clue how it had happened but the teacher had noticed. And that had pissed his uncle off.

He watched solemnly as his sweater turned to ashes. Uncle Vernon turned around and sneered at him. "You know, back in the day they used to burn witches too," he said threateningly.
A few more of these memories passed by until Snape decided they needed a break and ended the mental connection.

Immediately Harry retracted his hands and brought them up to massage his temples.

"Your relatives seem to be lovely people," Snape said sarcastically.

Harry threw him a quick glare. "I'm sure they'd think the same of you."

The corner of Snape's lip curled up. "No doubt."

He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to his student.

"Chocolate?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"I will give you some Pain Relieving Potion once we're done here, but I need your mind to be sharp while we're doing this. I believe you're familiar with the healing properties of chocolate?"

Harry nodded and took a small bite from the chocolate bar. He felt rather odd sitting in Snape's dark office, nibbling at some chocolate and sitting in very close proximity to the Potions Master. Ron would have kittens when he told him. He gave an involuntary chuckle.

"Is something amusing you, Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry replied quickly.

Snape pursed his lips but didn't comment further on the topic. Instead he changed it.

"So tell me about these memories, Potter."

Harry looked at him quizzically. "What is there to tell, sir?"

"For starters, what is the reason for their animosity towards you?"

This time Harry snorted. "Animosity? Oh they hate me. Everything about me, really," he said casually.

"Why?"

"What's this got to do with-"

"It just does," Snape said with such finality that it was clear there would be no discussion about it. "Now answer the question, Potter."

Harry let out a sigh. "They just hate magic and everything related to the magical world. Including me."

"Why did they make you work hours on end?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Convenience?" At Snape's raised eyebrow he decided to continue. "I think it was partly to try and "work" the magic out of me, and partly to not have to deal with me so much. I was an inconvenience to them, like a dirty spot on a glass table they couldn't get rid of. They had their own perfect little life and I cast a shadow upon that when I was put under their care. That's why they treated me like that, they wished they didn't have to put up with me at all."

"I imagine you must resent them for that."

Harry frowned. "No, I don't. I mean, not really." He surprised himself by admitting that.

Snape looked at him imploringly. "Explain."

"Well, they didn't choose to have me put on their doorstep."

"As I recall, you didn't either," Snape remarked.

Harry ignored him. "I made their lives a living hell. They had to feed me, give me clothes, bring me to school. If it wasn't for me they would have nothing to worry about."

Snape stared at him incredulously. "There is so much wrong with those three sentences, I don't even know where to start."

"Sir?"

"First of all, the things you mentioned they had to do are the most minimal things one would do for a child in their care. It is a inherent fact that comes with taking in a child. And even you must admit they failed on those minimal objectives. We just saw your uncle denying you food, for a reason that is utterly ridiculous if I might add."

"And secondly, you didn't cause any of their discomfort. They did that themselves. You never chose to be delivered to them and to be forced to grow up under their "care". You were only an infant. Surely you must see the insanity of taking on all the responsibility yourself?"

"The fact remains that they were forced to take me in as well. They would have brought me to another family if they weren't afraid of the consequences of that action."

"Why are you defending them, Potter?"

"I'm not! I'm just saying that I understand their hardships in this story."

"Their hardships?" Snape uttered disbelievingly.

"What would you have done then? You have hated me since the first time you laid eyes on me. Would you have taken me in just like that? Wouldn't it be just the same?"

"I would not mistreat a child under my care like that," Snape bit out at the hidden accusation.

Harry was going to deny that he was mistreated but thought better of it.

"Professor, what is the point of this? I don't care about the way they treated me, it's in the past. I'm over it."

"No you're not. If you were then you would have no trouble to shake off those memories and occlude your mind from me."

"That's just because I don't know how to do that."

"Your mind knows how to do that, Potter. You're just not allowing it to do what it is designed to do. Protecting your sanity."

Harry let out an angry breath.

"Let's try again. And get that anger under control, Potter, before you kick up another scene."

He laid his hands down again, expecting Harry to take up their earlier positions. Harry glared at the man but put his hands back in place.

Again he floated down a river of memories that called to him but were ignored by Snape's guidance towards another, specific memory.

Harry was shocked to find himself being chased by Dudley and his gang. Once in the alley he was beaten up before the Patronus-like doe appeared and drove off his attackers. He wandered the streets, caught up in feelings of desperation, anger, fear and guilt. Above all, guilt was the most present.

Then he entered his relatives' house and was yelled at by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who accused him of having used magic against their son. Then he was smacked hard in the face and roughly pushed against the wall before his uncle dragged him painfully up the stairs and threw him in his bedroom.

Snape withdrew from his mind and Harry put a hand to the side of his face. He would swear he could feel the lingering, phantom pain of his uncle's fist connecting with his skull.

Snape sat very still in his seat, looking dangerously close to yelling himself.

"How many times have the muggles hit you?" he said quietly, in barely contained anger.

Harry shrugged thinking it wasn't a big deal. "Not that many."

"You're a terrible liar, Potter."

Harry looked down and fidgeted with his robes, trying to hide his embarrassment. Snape heaved a frustrated sigh and raised his hand to rub his temples.

Harry flinched at the sudden movement, his reflexes were all jumbled caused by the renewed anxiety that last memory brought on.

Snape stilled his movement as he noticed Harry jump and slowly lowered his arm.

"I'm not going to hit you," he said with a surprisingly gentle voice.

Harry nodded and averted his eyes as his cheeks burned. "Yeah, I know," he muttered.

After a short silence, Snape spoke up again. "Does anyone know?"

Harry shook his head. "No one knows the details." Except for you, he thought with a hint of regret. "But Dumbledore and McGonagall know I hate going back there for the summer."

"They never asked why? Or did you just not bother to tell them?"

"It wouldn't have made a difference either way," Harry said a little agitated.

"So you kept silent, choosing to wallow in self-pity?" Snape sneered.

"You presume too much, professor," Harry said with a tired sigh. Snape said nothing and waited for Harry to elaborate. "It's just that I have told people, adults, in the past. My primary school teacher was the first I told, but that ended in a disaster. The Dursleys twisted the story and convinced her that I had a problem with lying and that they would do what they could to "help" me. I'm sure you can imagine the sort of "help" that would mean." He glanced at Snape from under his fringe.

Snape pursed his lips.

"And then later on when the principal asked about some of my bruises I was just about to try again and tell him. But then my Uncle came into his office with Dudley in tow. Dudley had gotten into a fight with his classmates, apparently, but as soon as Uncle Vernon saw me sitting there he twisted the story again and made it so that it seemed as if I was the one that had attacked Dudley. I was suspended from school for a week and locked up in the cupboard at home."

Snape's eyes flared at that but he kept silent.

"So you see, sir? It doesn't matter whom I tell. The outcome is always unpleasant."

Harry made eye-contact with the man across from him and thought that he saw a flicker of recognition in those black eyes.

"Dumbledore would not have allowed you to go back there if he knew this," Snape said bitterly.

"Dumbledore was the one who told me I had to go back. There was no other option. As long as the Dursleys didn't kill me, Privet Drive would be the safest place for me to stay over the summer because of the wards."

"I find that hard to believe," Snape replied tersely.

Harry shrugged. "Believe what you wish. It doesn't matter, I'm not going back there."
"Where will you go, then?" Snape surprised Harry with a hint of curiosity.

"I don't know. I'll figure it out," Harry evaded.

"I see."

Another silence ensued before Snape let out a long sigh.

"Let's end the lesson for today," he said and stood up to get a Pain Reliever Potion from his cabinet.

Harry's mind replayed the last memory as he wearily watched Snape rummage in his cabinet. Then another thought hit him.

"Sir, you haven't asked about the doe."

Snape stilled for a second before continuing his search for the potion. "Indeed."

"You knew," Harry stated as his mind put two and two together.

Snape turned around, potion vial in hand and walked back towards the chairs.

"I was on guard duty that day," he said stiffly.

"That was your... Patronus?" Harry asked in awe. At Snape's stiff nod he felt a rush of excitement. "My mum's Patronus was a doe."

Snape visibly tensed at that and quickly handed Harry the vial. He turned back towards his desk. "The form of a corporeal Patronus is not unique. There are millions of wizards, Potter. It's not difficult to imagine that you're not the only one with a stag Patronus, for instance."

Harry's face faltered. Of course Snape was right, it was just a coincidence that he had the same Patronus as his mother. But something else had caught his attention.

"You know my Patronus is a stag?" Harry said with a hint of surprise in his voice.

Snape scoffed. "I would be surprised if anyone didn't know, Potter."

"Right," Harry said as he bowed his head. He opened the vial and downed the Potion, almost immediately feeling his headache drain away.

"Sir, why did your Patronus look like that?" He inquired as he handed back the empty vial.

Snape moved his chair back into a normal position as he spoke. "Some are able to alter the appearance of their Patronus. It won't surprise you that this takes a great deal of mental effort and focus." Snape then looked up and his eyes once again bored into Harry's. "As well as the right memories."

When Snape had dismissed him, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, all the way wondering what Snape had meant with those last words.