The Pensieve of Severus Snape

Episode III: Forced Beginnings

Snape sat in a chair across from the door that Harry had just walked through. The room was dusty and obviously worn by ages of occupancy. The floors were scuffed by frequent foot traffic and the floorboards warped by constant scrubbing. Harry walked on them timidly, trying to make as little noise as possible. The reluctance in his gate seemed to indicate he was unsure why Snape was here. After their last Occlumency lesson, it seemed very unlikely that Harry and Snape would ever need to have a private conversation.

"Sit," the elder man commanded of the boy. Harry complied cautiously, putting one hand on the back of the chair as he walked by it. When he sat, he was forced to face Snape as the high wingback chair obstructed his view of anything else in the room. To look to one side would give away that he was merely avoiding the man's eyes.

Snape was certainly just as intimidating as ever, even though he wasn't sitting behind his foreboding wooden desk. He was wearing a black traveling cloak instead of his teaching robes; the differences were minimal however. Snape always looked the same no matter what setting he was in. His left hand was curled around the end of the chair's high armrests as his right hand played casually with velvet strips that some creature had torn up out of the upholstery.

Harry and Snape stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Neither was afraid to meet the other's eyes and only the occasional crackle of a dying fire filled the room with sound. Snape spoke first, but it was clear from his tone that it wasn't how he had intended to begin the conversation.

"You will no doubt be thrilled to learn that I will not be teaching Potions next year." Snape's hands rose to come together in a steeple.

Harry looked at the man intensely, confusion written on his face, hoping for the punch line. It never came. In fact Snape ceased talking at that point and just stared at Harry for a long while. The youngster peered back, unsure of what to say, but the silence was unbearable. Snape rose and walked slowly to the other side of the room.

"You and I... have much to discuss, Potter."

He stopped speaking momentarily, unable to get more words out, as if they were painful memories, or disgusting notions.

"I understand Granger gave you a number of books on Occlumency over the past few months."

"Yes she did." Harry was still sitting in the chair although the tenseness of his legs seemed to indicate he was considering standing.

"And you've been reading them?"

"Constantly. There is nothing else for me to do at the Dursleys."

"And the dreams? They have stopped?"

"No." Harry's eyes drifted guiltily to the mirror that hung over the chair where Snape had been sitting.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really." Green eyes met black again in a fierce stare.

There was silence in the room once more and Snape began to pace, his traveling cloak now sweeping dust off the floor. As he moved from one side of the room to the other, he seemed to notice the darkened trail, for he took off the cloak and folded it over the back of the chair. It was some time before he spoke again.

"You once asked Dumbledore why he trusts me, did you not?" Snape whipped around to stare at Harry once more. Harry nodded curiously.

"There are reasons to tell you, many in fact. But there is one reason to keep it concealed from you. I'm sure you can guess what that reason is."

"Because Voldemort can read my mind," Harry responded quickly, almost as if he were expecting the question.

"For the last time, Potter, do not say his name." Harry's face screwed up into a fury and he rose from the chair at last and began waving his arms in the air crazily.

"It will not be the last time. I will scream his name until the cows come home! VOLDEMORT VOLDEMORT VOLDEMORT!"

They were almost nose to nose when Harry crumpled to the floor laughing hysterically in a maniacal voice that was not his own. Snape stepped backwards quickly, hitting his back against the wall. Moments later, with a look of horror on his face, he slid down to his knees and pressed his face to the floor. Only the sound of Harry retching made Snape raise his head seconds later to see the boy on his hands and knees spread over the semi-digested contents of his morning porridge.

"He can hear you," Snape whispered. "He can hear you through my Dark Mark and he can hear you in your own head, Potter. Don't be such a fool."

Harry looked up at Snape; both were on their knees still. Harry had vomit dripping down his chin.

"Why didn't you just tell me that before?"

"I would have thought it would be very obvious to you by now."

"Well it's not! Nothing is obvious to me. Everyone thinks I'm some sort of bloody genius. I don't know why you expected me to be able to learn Occlumency! Or why anyone thinks I can defeat Vol... You-Know-Who!" Harry took a deep breath. "I'm tired of people making ignorant assumptions. I don't know anything about the wizarding world, all right? I didn't grow up in it! I didn't know what purebloods were, or Mudbloods, or this whole stupid, ridiculous notion that I'm supposed to kill Vol... You-Know-Who." Harry dropped his head again. "I didn't even know that my Dad was a prat."

Harry didn't notice, but Snape had opened his mouth to shout back at the boy, but at this last sentence, he closed it again. There was a curios look on his face.

"Do you think anyone goes through life with an honest opinion of themselves or of each other? Life is all about manipulating people into thinking what you want them to. It's called perception. You would do well to learn that skill."

Harry looked up at Snape, deep into his eyes.

"You mean to lie to people?"

Snape rose to his feet once more, pulled out his wand, pointed it at the vomit beneath Harry and executed a Vanishing Spell. The vomit disappeared.

"You have no knack for subtlety, Potter. It's not lying, it's deception, and I know first hand that you already have experience in the matter." He began pacing again, but on the other side of the room this time, away from Harry and away from the sour stench of vomit.

"It is a tool, a defense; the ability to control your emotions, the expressions on your face and the way your body responds to pressure filled situations. Surely even..." Snape paused as if he hadn't meant to say that last word. "Surely you can see why it would be beneficial."

When Snape turned around again, Harry was on his feet but leaning precariously against the mantle of the fireplace.

"Occlumency is merely an extension of that. You must clear your mind. Clear them of the thoughts that haunt you and that make you weak. These are things He will be able to use against you. It's about making him believe you have nothing to share. If you can do that, he will not be able to penetrate your mind," Snape said softly.

Silence rang throughout the room as the two stared at one another again. Harry seemed deep in thought, confused, and perplexed. Snape looked back at him with tired eyes.

"I can't do it. I've tried. Every time I close my eyes I see... everything happening all over again. My parents dying, Cedric dying..." Harry paused, unsure of whether or not he should be saying this at all. " And Sirius."

"I would think the latter would have inspired you to try harder."

"I can't try any harder! Haven't you been listening? I'm not capable of doing it! I've read those books; I've practiced time and time again. The dreams only get worse. It isn't working!"

"So you're going to give up? You're going to whine like a little child hoping Dumbledore or someone will come save your neck?" Snape was goading him now.

"Have I any choice? Even if I don't, this is just going to keep going on and on and nothing will ever come of it. I might as well just hand myself over to V.. You-Know-Who now and save everyone the trouble of worrying about it" There was a pitiful tone to Harry's voice as he said this.

There was silence once again at these words as the boy dropped himself into the chair and rested his aching head in his hands. He rubbed the scar there roughly as if attempting to massage into acquiescence. Snape sat across from him again, silent, and obviously diverted from his initial intent.

"You can do it. Everyone knows you can. You must. It's time for you to get over yourself, Potter. No one is going to sit here and hold your hand and make you do this. It is only something you can do and it takes time. It took me many years."

"You expected me to do it on the first day," Harry spat back, his head only slightly elevated from his hands. He stared Snape in the eyes again. "You wouldn't have bothered with the Penseive if you didn't think something would happen. I couldn't do it the first day and I still can't do it. You're wasting your time, and... I don't understand why you're even here."

At the mention of the Penseive, Snape had sat back into his chair uncomfortably, as if he wanted to bring up anything but the memory of seeing Potter and his son both sharing in the excitement of that single humiliating moment.

"Dumbledore wants you to continue your training, Potter."

Harry shook his head negatively. Dismay was written all over his face.

"It's pointless, doesn't he realize that? How can I learn from you when I'm angry all the time? I bet he doesn't know that all you do is insult me to the point that I can't think straight. You are the worst teacher I ever had."

"He is actually quite aware of that, Potter," Snape said in a soft voice. Harry's cruel words didn't seem to have any affect on him at all. "There is little that he is not aware of."

"Then why is he bothering?"

"Because there is no one else who can teach you what you need to know."

"I bet Lupin could," Harry muttered.

"Lupin has more patience for your insolence, this is true." Harry looked up at Snape, giving him an awful stare. "But Lupin will not be able to simulate the conditions under which you will meet the Dark Lord. What good would Occlumency be to you if you only practiced it when you are amongst friends? No, Potter, I am invaluable necessity to you."

Snape was now leaning forward in his chair with a serious and deadly look on his face. He began to speak very quickly and excitedly.

"Think back to when you faced the Dark Lord after Black's death. Think of your hate, rage and anger. I know you tried the Cruciatus curse on Bella, Potter." Harry's eyes became very wide as these words. "Those are the conditions under which you will need Occlumency. The mind behaves very differently under pressure and Lupin simply cannot give that to you. I spent five years building up your hatred for me and am therefore better suited than anyone else, as much as I loathe to admit it."

Harry seemed confused at this turn of the conversation and he sat up straight in the chair as if it was an attempt to move further away from the maddened man in front of him. Snape was now perched on the very end of his chair and leaning over, closing the distance between them.

"I have asked Lupin if he will attend our sessions however. He pointed out to me that perhaps early on you need some hand holding." Snape raised his eyebrows to further sink in his point and then stood up quickly.

"We will begin tomorrow at noon, Potter."

He picked up the traveling cloak from the back of his chair and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Lupin was waiting in the hall.

"Has he agreed?'

"As much as he ever will. I will arrive tomorrow around noon, Lupin." He pushed past the werewolf and towards the foyer. His wand was already midair and was readying for Apparating when Lupin stopped him.

"I know you're still very angry at him for the Penseive incident, Severus. But he's not a cruel boy. He isn't James. I've spoken with him about it and I believe saw it for what you saw it as. Try to remember that."

"I don't want his pity Lupin." Snape raised his wand again. "Or yours. I never have."

"It wasn't pity, Severus and I think you know that."

The two men looked at each other. Snape never responded, he merely raised his wand and was gone with a loud pop a second later.