Pathetic, Potter
Written for a prompt on hh_sugarquill: Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved 500+ words. Contains instances of canon Dursley abuse.
Never before had Severus Snape despised Occlumency. Staring at the disgustingly sweaty, black haired and green-eyed boy in front of him was making him wish that he had never even heard of Occlumency. In his head he cursed Dumbledore, then the Dark Lord, and finally himself. It's almost an entire moment before he curses the boy in front of him and his father.
The boy's eyes are blazing hatred at him and it takes Severus a second to realize that he had again told Potter that he was just like his father. Strange. He had really thought that that thought had stayed in his head. He supposed that he might as well continue disparaging the boy's father. It's not like anyone else ever bothered to tell the truth to the boy.
When the boy is at his most off-guard, Severus strikes. "Legilimens," he says, and begins to pass through the boy's memories. He flicks through the most recent memories and carelessly discards the thoughts of his friendships and Hogwarts. There's a fleeting instant where the boy watches Draco without hatred or rivalry, and while Severus is curious to see more, he wants to prove something to himself. He searches for the darker memories, being careful to sidestep the Triwizard Tournament, he has no wish to deal with an even more emotional Potter.
There's an urge, a desperate thirst to prove everyone wrong. He wants to prove that Potter is no golden boy. He wants to prove that Potter is more than friendship and love. He wants to prove Potter's hatred. He wants to prove that Potter is no better than any other student, especially not him.
Severus rips past through a basilisk, Quirrell, and a black dog. There's extra force in ripping past the last one. He doesn't want the darkness in those memories; those memories are sickeningly filled with triumph and glory. He wants pure hatred, even if it was nothing more than Potter angrily killing a family pet.
Family. The boy never mentions them and so, Severus delves deeper than he's ever had. He's fairly certain this is an abuse of his power. He's also fairly certain that he doesn't care. Digging past the years of Hogwarts, Severus suddenly finds himself in a dark, cramped space. There's a small vent on his right and an unhappy six-year-old in front of him. The memory is stuffed to the brim with bitterness. The boy's eyes are red-rimmed and his knees are clutched tightly to his chest as if they would run away and leave him behind if he ever let go. The thin shoulders shook and the boy kept a fierce bite on his lip, creating a trickle of blood down his chin.
Potter's suddenly fearful. Severus can feel him trying to toss him out of this memory and so the memory shifts. The scene shifts to a blonde-haired boy's birthday party. Potter's standing in the corner looking jealously at the mound of presents. A finger stretches towards one of the smaller presents but Potter's interrupted by a toy racecar thrown at his head. He ducks but the car still strikes his head. The blonde boy demands Potter pick up his toy and bring it back. A purple-faced man grabs Potter's arm and tosses him into a cupboard.
Potter's fear is strengthened. It's clear to Severus that Potter has no wish for anyone to see these memories. Mentally, Potter stops struggling and Severus finds himself in the same dark, cramped space as before. Why did the boy stop struggling? It couldn't have been laziness. Suddenly, Severus realizes that Potter's going through every detail in the cupboard. There's the dingy walls and a couple of spiders. They watch the spiders crawl up the wall. Severus expected fear or bitterness or at the very least disgust. Looking at the spiders he feels friends. The boy's friends were the spiders. There's an array of broken knights on a shelf above the cot. Mine. The possessiveness is striking and Severus grins. Now they were getting somewhere. There was an array of cleaning supplies beneath the cot, where a glass cleaner had leaked a small puddle on the floor. Severus felt Potter's grudging acceptance of the supplies filled with the bitterness he was looking for.
But where was the hatred? Where was the boy's anger? His ferocity? The boy was locked in a cupboard for almost touching a present. What happened to the boy's sense of fairness and justice? Severus attempted to throw off the memory but there was a tug of resistance. The boy had tried trapping him into the memory. It was a certainly innovative idea but one that rarely worked. He pressed on the edges of the memory and broke out of the boy's mind.
"Pathetic, Potter," he spat. There. That should make the boy work harder. Who wouldn't want to prove that they weren't pathetic? There's a small niggle at his mind; the boy had grudging acceptance over a cupboard, would he really try to prove that he's better? Nonsense. Everyone wanted to prove themselves. Potter would be no exception.
Potter looks up, his chest heaving. Only his many years as a double agent keeps him from reeling back.
The boy had hatred. The boy had pure hatred for him.
There's a clenching feeling in Severus' chest. "Get out," he states harshly.
The boy runs out of the room.
He was worse than being stuffed in a cramped cupboard. Stupid boy.
A different man would have reached out to the boy. A different man would focus on why Potter so accepted his abuse. The lesson was over as it always was, with nothing ended, nothing begun, and nothing resolved. The lesson was nothing more than a slight hiccup in a war.
Stupid boy.
Pathetic, Potter.