by Gin&Ironic
Rating: R
Summary: Post OoTP. Snape is assigned to a dangerous and all but impossible task by Voldemort, and it is in the Order's best interest for him to deliberately fail in achieving any end result. However, when Harry finds out about Snape's assignment, the necessity of failing clashes with Harry's agenda.
Pairing: SS/HP, mostly preslash
Disclaimer: JKR is the master of this universe, not I. I'm but a poor fan fiction author with optimistic and somewhat deluded views of the books.
Notes: Thank you to I Got Tired of Waiting and SylvanWitch for the spectacular betas. Their help is proving to be immesurable.
Archiving/feedback: Send requests/flames/flattery to ginandironic[at]yahoo[dot]com.
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 and felt Potter's woefully unprepared mind give way under the spell after a moment of dutiful struggling. He smiled grimly to himself, watching the endless parade of self-pity that followed, so amateurish and repetitive in its earnestness it nearly turned Severus' stomach.
This was their fourth session since Potter arrived at Order headquarters, and the first memory Severus saw upon entering his mind had been the same every lesson thus far. Presumably killed by Dumbledore when found snooping the grounds of the house, Kreacher's fondest wish had been fulfilled, his head mounted in the upstairs hallway. Severus was forced to watch Potter rise at what looked to be the crack of dawn, advance down the hallway, and start jabbing the head with his wand. Furiously, over and over again until angry red sparks showered and scorched Kreacher's face. Finally, he would stop--just before the Weasleys would rise, spelling away marks and any other evidence of his depraved, self-pitying hobby.Just as he was planning to leave Potter's head, he was pushed out with a wave of startlingly powerful magic, 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?" Glowering, he tried to collect himself, as he was slightly out of breath from the shock of Potter having done something right for once.
Despite being inches away from unconsciousness, Potter stared down at the floor sourly. "No. Sir."
It had become obvious to Severus 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 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 without so much as a word of reprimand.
When the boy arrived at Headquarters (which Severus refused to acknowledge as having once belonged to the late Sirius Black) he sulked around in his room for a week, only coming out at night when absolutely necessary. This brought on many impassioned discussions between Order members, to which Severus was unfortunately privy. After two weeks, Potter suddenly started emerging to eat and study some each day, acting quite the contended adolescent. Everyone around Potter heaved a figurative sigh of relief, fears put to complete rest. Severus, however, wasn't convinced and continued watching the boy like a hawk, not trusting his newfound contentment.
Potter seemed to be oblivious to Severus' 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 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 impulsive, seemed to strike 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 pushed him out.
"That's the idea," he said, once Potter had got the hell out of his head.