After over an hour spent attempting to teach Potter to shield himself against stinging hexes the next day, they each fell onto a sofa, exhausted. Once they'd both regained their composure, Snape noticed Potter rubbing a bright red welt on his arm. Snape had been careful not to put all his power behind the hexes he threw at the boy, but it looked painful nonetheless. Despite Potter's stoic expression and lack of complaint, he knew it hurt. Without a word, he retrieved the healing potion he'd made (what felt like) ages ago and gave it to him.
"Thank you, Professor."
It felt annoyingly good to hear the boy express genuine gratitude so freely. Snape had not been expecting that and did not know how to answer, so he didn't.
"Why do you always attempt to hide your pain, Mr. Potter?"
Potter looked startled, as if he didn't realize he did that, then seemed to consider. "Well, in the past I've been punished for crying out," he said quietly.
"When was the last time you cried, Professor?"
"You witnessed the event yesterday. I have not shed a tear since the day my mother died. I, too, have been punished in the past for 'crying out'. While we are on the subject of memories willingly shared via legillimancy, I wonder if the event I viewed was a one-time occurrence?"
"Um, no sir, not exactly," he admitted. He added, "It used to happen when I was younger, but only a couple of times since I started at Hogwart's," as if that were a good thing.
Before he even started school? Merlin. Snape knew there was no love lost between Potter and his muggle relatives, and he had heard rumors about a cupboard and very little food. Until then, he had not paid them any heed. Perhaps Potter was not the pampered brat he acted like. Or used to act like.
"Sir, have you ever been in love?"
Snape was drawn out of his thoughts by such an innocent sounding question. "At one time, long ago, I thought perhaps I was. But even then I knew I was fooling myself." Snape knew he should hate admitting such personal secrets to this boy he had despised for so long, but it was beginning to feel almost natural.
"Have you ever had sex, Mr. Potter?" With someone other than your uncle, he added mentally, hoping the boy would understand.
He blushed a little, and shook his head 'no'.
"Have…" he began, but seemed to think better of it. "How many sexual partners have you had?"
Snape was not sure he knew the answer to that question. Instead, he answered the question Potter thought he was asking. "I have had consensual sexual relations with two partners."
Potter's jaw dropped a bit. "What is that supposed to…I probably don't want to know, do I? Merlin's beard."
No, Snape supposed, he probably did not want to know. He certainly hoped not, as he had no desire to explain the Dark Lord's peculiar definition of 'entertainment'.
"If you could choose one person to bring back from the dead, who would it be?" Snape asked.
"I guess it depends. Of course, I want to see my mum and dad, but I miss Sirius so much. But I'd only bring him back if it could be like the whole thing never happened. I wouldn't ever be able to look him in the eye if he knew I'd killed him."
"Have I not instructed you to look at me when you are speaking to me? I cannot imagine what is so engaging about your knees." The boy was still looking down. Attempting to soften his tone, Snape added, "You must know there was nothing you could have done. Black may have died, but you did not kill him."
"He was only there because of me, because I was too stupid to know Voldemort was tricking me." He ignored Snape's glare. "I let the dreams come! I wanted to know what was behind that door so badly. I should have just listened to you and actually tried to close my mind. Instead, I got the only person I had left killed."
"I will concede that you acted foolishly to allow the dreams. But Black, and Black alone, made the decision to go to the Ministry that night. You cannot be held responsible for the actions of others. Yes, you were tricked, but by the most cunning and deceitful mind of our time. It is time you realized that not every bad event that occurs is your fault, and that there remain many persons who care for you very much."
Potter raised his head and looked at Snape very intently, but did not speak.