"Look at me, Potter. Look. At. Me."
Over his many years at Hogwarts, the man in front of him had uttered those same words many a time, and his reaction always was the same.
Harrys head snapped up to meet the gaze of the angered potions professor before him, eyes as black as night burning with malice. "Just as incompetent as your fool of a father, tell me Potter, what is it you are supposed to be doing? Or are you too thick to even guard your mind from me, let alone the Dark Lord?" He spat.The dungeon masters gaze swept over him, scathingly. "Just like your father, pathetic."Harrys head lowered itself back down to meet the floor, why did the man have to be so like the Dursleys, what had he done to deserve this? He knew what was coming next, but it still caught him off guard anyway.
"Legillimens!" Caught off guard yet again, Harry's head filled with painful memories that he once more had to relive.
His parents screams, as they tried to protect a chubby baby Harry, the desperate cries of his mother, and the frantic pleas of his father. There was a sudden flash of emerald green light caused by unknown words and then silence, baby Harry cried out for his parents, but this time they didnt wake.
Ronald Weasley's younger sister, Ginny, lying on the stone floor pale and scared, as the basilisk headed straight towards them.
Cedric's dead body lying still as his father rushed over to him, blinded by tears as he mourned the loss of his only son.
The burning of the blood quill as the words, 'I must not tell lies,' magically scarred his skin.
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD," Harry roared, his chest rising up and down as tears fell slowly down his cheeks. He stumbled backwards as the potion master's magic pulled away from him. Head down and shaking, he was the image of despondency. However, not to Severus Snape he wasn't, oh no. To Severus Snape, Harry Potter was many things, but not miserable. He could not be. The muggles he lived with must have smothered him with everything he wanted. Harry's knees buckled and he subconsciously drew his knees to his chest. The fast breaths he was taking ripped from his chest sweat dripped down from his throbbing head. He could not stop thinking of the very same memories he had to relive every night. Too many horrible events, every year, one after another. "You are pathetic, Potter. But you seem to have been wasting my time, leading myself to believe you are incompetent as Legilimency, when you have been hiding certain memories from me all this time."
"Look at me, Potter."
His voice rang clear even over Harry's broken sobs. His voice was dead, emotionless even, as he studied the broken mess of a child curled up on the floor in front of him. Harry Potter was a stubborn, ungrateful child who needed to learn his place. Blinking back his tears and swallowing his sobs, Harry Potter raised his eyes once again to meet Snape's.
"Legillimens!"
A tiny boy hiding in a nearby bush, fear shaking through to his core, chants could be heard getting closer and closer, "Where's the freak gone, where are you Potter, I want to play." The boy curled in on himself tighter, he could not have been older than five, yet he was still hiding, hiding from the outside world, from them, from Dudley, from everything.
A shrieking Petunia grabbing Harry and throwing him roughly to the ground, "Vernon, dear, come take care of the freak." Later that same night, a little boy lay upon the floor in the cupboard under the stairs, bloodied and bruised. Little Harry Potter had only just survived.
It was Christmas day. A six-year-old Harry Potter stared out from inside his cupboard, Dudley was smothered in presents as his parents showered him in love and affection. He felt a lone tear drift down his cheek, maybe this year he would get a hug off his Aunt, but even he knew that was impossible.
Snape pulled out of the memories faster than imaginable, so this was what Potter had been hiding. He averted his gaze to the boy curled in front of him, what had he done to the poor child? What did that make him, a monster, a child abuser, as bad as the Dursleys? He needed to think, he felt sick to his stomach. He was wrong about Potter. "Go to your dormitory and to bed, Potter."
Harry apparently didnt hear him as he stayed staring at the floor. He made no indication that he was going to stand up and go to bed he remained silent. Snape to stayed silent, they stayed like that for a while, an almost peaceful quietness hovering in the room.Surprisingly, Harry was the first to speak his voice was scratchy and the emotionless tone he used seemed to echo in the dungeons, "I'm s-s-sorry."
If the night's events hadn't confused Snape enough, Harry's words certainly did. It should have been Snape apologising; apparently, he had made the wrong conclusion of Harry after all. "You don't need to be sorry Pot-Harry, it should be me the one apologising, it's okay to cry.""It's not, crying is weak and everyone in the wizarding world needs me to be strong, they think I'm a hero but I'm not even sixteen yet! I have to pass my O.W.L'S, I have to save everyone from Voldermort, I have to deal with the incessant ridicule of my house, I have to fight the things I'm trying to hide from, but I'm still just a kid! I've got to be a hero, I have to-"His voice shuddered-"I need to..."The boy was working himself up into a mess and the sight of the boy before him pulled at the strings of Snape's bitter, cold heart. He knelt down next to the boy, unsure of as what to do, he contemplated sending for the boys friends, but this was his mess and he knew he had to fix it himself."What do you need to do, Harry? What is it, maybe I could help?"
Harry took another gulp of air, "I can't tell you, Professor Dumbledore's making me, but I don't want. Just a boy-Just a boy," He kept muttering as if it was his mantra.
Snape looked into Harry's emerald green eyes- exactly like what Lilly's had been like- and he knew that he had to protect the child and fix him again. Only for Lilly though, he couldn't possibly care for the child that reminded him so much of him, could he?
