The Army of Souls

Prologue

Severus burst through the door, wand in hand, noting the widening of Potter's eyes to a doe-like state.

"Legilimens." His voice was firm. He watched as Potter's knees buckled from the onslaught, as well as feeling Potter's woefully untrained mind give way under the spell after a moment of dutiful struggling.

What followed was an endless parade of self-pity, so amateur and repetitive in its earnestness it nearly turned Severus' stomach.

In time the sessions would prove to start out with the same event; apparently Kreacher was found on the grounds of the house and killed, presumably by Dumbledore. So it was that Severus was forced to watch Potter rise at what looked to be the crack of dawn, advance to the hallway, and start jarring the lifeless, mounted head. He would stop just before the Weasley's would rise, spelling away any marks visible on the dead flesh.

Just as he was planning to leave Potter's head, he was pushed out and Potter fell awkwardly into Severus' own memories.

His father shoved his mother up against a wall in Snape Manor; Lucius Malfoy was saying something about Slytherins and pride; a cold sensation started to overtake a 17-year-old Severus, and ---

"That was nearly five minutes, Mr. Potter. Did you forget my instructions to practice?"

Potter stared down at the floor sourly, despite being inches away from unconsciousness. "No. Sir."

It became obvious in less than a week how quickly Potter was slipping into despondency. According to Lupin and Tonks, he had not owled but once in the early part of summer, and they found him at Privet Drive a huddled mess in his bed. Severus saw this event only once in Potter's memories. He watched distantly as they merrily packed Potter's trunk for him, scrubbed him raw with a Scouring Charm, and carted him off to the Black estate without so much as a word of reprimand.

When the boy arrived at Headquarters - which Severus now refused to acknowledge as belonging to the late Sirius Black - he was generally not seen for nearly a week, which brought on many impassioned discussions. Potter finally emerged to eat and study some each day, and everyone around him put their fears to complete rest. Severus, however, continued the watch the boy like a hawk, not trusting his newfound contentment.

Potter seemed to be oblivious to Snape's scrutiny, and happily let him trample through most of his darker thoughts. There were quite a few of them; Potter burning letters; Potter scribbling nonsense furiously on a piece of parchment; Potter prodding Kreacher's head; ad infinitum.

He initially tried to be mild, as mild as his temperament and the subject would allow. Previously Albus had taken him aside and demanded nothing but stoicism during the sessions. He struggled to maintain calm as Potter sneered at his memories, no doubt finding in his arrogance they didn't measure to standard.

"You are not the center of the universe," he spat, watching Potter stiffen with anger at being dismissed so easily.

Potter did not try any harder. Severus changed tactics and all but slammed through his mind, ripping up memories as he came by them, trying to leave Potter shaken or at least angered. Nothing happened. He continued to watch with growing fury as Potter wallowed in angst.

"You are not trying."

"Sorry. Sir." Always his canned response. Always sullen with the 'sir' tacked onto the end, dirtying it with disrespect.

He said nothing in response the first few times, but his patience quickly reached the end of its tether. "You're not sorry. You're enjoying the outlet of having someone wade through your endless self-pity."

Potter did enjoy it, Severus noticed, as much as he could enjoy anything at that point. He found Potter would leave a lesson more alive and less likely to drown himself in self-pity. Still, the dark memories didn't abate. "If you are showing me this drivel because you think I might find you more than an uninteresting, one-dimensional child, or because you think I'm going be impressed with your anguish, Mr. Potter, you sorely need to reevaluate your decision."

"Yes sir."

Severus finally stumbled upon some manner of progress when Potter's feeble brain began shoving images of Black falling behind the veil down Severus' throat. All he could think was how Potter would kill them all with his foolishness. "You are not the only one who has lost in this war," he shouted, feeling a vein throb in his temple.

The words, while being impulsively designed, struck a chord within Potter, and the next time Severus cast the spell, he was flung out within scant seconds. He cringed against Potter's ruthless tour of his memories and gathered enough strength to push him out.

"That's the idea," he said, once Potter had got the hell out of his head.