AN: First teacher/student pairing... so be nice. I really like this one :)

Warnings: Slash! M/M there is one brief flashback of non-graphic, inferred rape/violence. It is a little angsty, but only a tad... It's my first time writing angst, pretty mild stuff, written for SomethingWithMittens 'Sell me a Story' Challenge. Hope you like :)

You Have Your Mothers Eyes:

He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy . . . He was nine, and Ripper the bulldog chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn . . . He was sitting under the sorting hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin . . . He was looking through the crack at the floor of his cupboard door, watching Dudley open present after present, his friends all sitting around him, and Dudley stuffing his face with cake, Harry's stomach growling . . . He's in Snapes classroom trying to ignore Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyles snickering as Harry is trying to answer Snapes questions without looking like a fool in front of his new classmates . . .

He felt a sharp pain in his side. Snapes office came back into view and he realized he had fallen to the floor, his side contacting painfully with the side of Snapes desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand.

"Did you mean to try and jump at me?" asked Snape coolly.

"No," said Harry embarrassed, picking himself up off the floor.

"I thought not," said Snape, watching him closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."

"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Exactly as you did," said Snape, his lip curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"

"My Aunt Marge," Harry murmured, glaring at the floor.

"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," said Snape, raising his wand once more. Harry smiled, he had actually done well enough that Snape had complimented him. Well, in Snapes own way. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy trying to tackle me. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to physical means."

"I'm trying, but your not telling me how."

"It's not something I can tell you, Potter. It is something that you figure out on your own. Every wizards method is unique."

"Well, whats your method. Maybe I can figure it out based on what you do."

"Just close your eyes."

Harry groaned before doing what he was told. He wished Snape would just tell him how. Pretty soon he was going to get to the important memories about-

"Legilimens!"

He was being dragged by the hair to his cupboard . . . Dudley is hitting him over the head with his smelting's stick . . . He's hiding on the roof of the school while Dudley and his friends searched below for him . . . He's watching Snape brewing potions at his desk, quickly staring back down at his potions when he glanced Harry's way . . . His ribcage is throbbing, his uncle having shoved him into his cupboard for the millionth time before stepping inside and unzipping his pants . . .

"No... You can't... Stop!" Harry roared. He was on top of Snape, not even remembering jumping at him. Snape, surprising, wasn't yelling at him, just lying silently, with his shoulders and upper back shoved against the base of the wall, the rest of his legs tangled with Harry's on the floor, staring at him. Shocked, surprised...

Harry jumped up off of Snape, ran towards his garbage can, and retched. He hated having to relive those memories, and it was all Snapes fault. The man in question had picked himself up off the floor and crossed the room to where Harry was crouching.

"Harry," Snape said quietly. Never before had Harry heard him speak like that, it unnerved him, and scared him. He didn't want to talk about what had happened, and definitely not with Professor Snape.

Snape reached out to touch Harry's shoulder, but he flinched away, panicking. Hurriedly he grabbed his satchel from where it was carelessly discarded on the floor, exited the office, and then he ran. He ran from Snape, he ran from the memories, and he ran from the pain...