Author's Note: Hello! Firstly, I want to offer my most heartfelt thanks to all those of you who review. Your positive feedback inspires me to continue and your constructive criticism helps me improve my writing Furthermore, although I have a vague idea of the direction of this fic, your reviews help guide me forward so, as always, feedback is very much appreciated.
With regards to the narrative viewpoints, I appreciate that Harry's POV chapters are possibly stronger than Snape's. This may be because I have grappled with similar issues myself and so find it easier to inhabit Harry's head. Nevertheless, in the spirit of self-improvement I shall persevere with both for the time being. Again, I would value any thoughts on this. And now, without further ado… onto the fic!
Feeling the familiar pains in his stomach, Harry smiled. They had finally disconnected the drip. Sometimes, he dedicated each shooting pain, each internal kick, each throb of his heart to someone he had disappointed. One for Sirius. One for his Cedric. One for his mum. One for his dad. The list went on…
He was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts of self-deprecation and loss that he failed to notice the hardness of his bed, the cold draft and the sound of approaching steps. So it came as a complete shock when Snape's sharp voice penetrated his dismal thoughts with a curt awakening, "Get up now, Potter. I will not allow you to laze the day away and make my presence here even more pointless."
Falling out of bed, Harry hit the cold floor with a groan, his fragile body bruising easily. Where was he? And why was Snape torturing him at this ridiculous hour? What was going on?
As if Harry had spoken these questions out loud, Snape answered him, each word dripping with loathing and resentment, "You have been relocated from the Hospital Wing to my private rooms. It is nine o'clock in the morning and so high time you started work."
Harry stared at Snape blankly, "What work? It's a Monday, isn't it? Why aren't I going to class? And why am I staying with you? I should be back in my dormitories!"
"Watch your tone, Potter. As my guest, I will be expecting a great deal more respect from you in future. Have I made myself clear?" He waited for a quick nod from Harry before continuing, "It was recently discovered that we may have misinterpreted the prophecy. Although only one of you may survive, meaning that either the Dark Lord or yourself must perish, it does not necessarily follow that one of you must destroy the other. It is merely that the existence of one will bring about the death of the other, either directly or indirectly.
As one of the parties to whom the prophecy refers, it is crucial that you know this. However, it will be to our advantage if we can keep this information from the Dark Lord. It is for that reason that you have been relocated to my rooms. We will be having a two-week long intensive course of Occlumency lessons to help you seal your mind against him.
He will not be actively seeking this information but unless you take measures to keep your mind closed, he may look into your mind on a whim and discover this crucial information from you."
With great effort, Harry pulled his feeble frame back onto the bed and tried to absorb the mass of new information. "But our lessons last time were such a disaster. Especially since I…. I'm so sorry, Professor! About looking into your... memories…"
Snape surveyed Harry emotionlessly, "The past can be a terrible thing. It can hold us captive for years to come. It can taint our future and fetter us to bygone fears and mistakes. Breaking free can be a long and arduous process in and of itself. But it can be done. It must be done."
Harry's brows furrowed as he tried to understand the meaning behind the words. It seemed to Harry that Snape was intent on talking in riddles. "I don't understand, Professor."
Snape's eyes glittered strangely, "Well, I daresay you will soon enough. Enough idle chatter. Get changed into your school robes and we will begin our work."
As he prepared himself for their lesson, Harry thought over Snape's revelation but still couldn't decide how he felt about it. He was finally free of the burden of defeating Voldemort. He should be ecstatic, shouldn't he? But as he brushed his limp, lifeless hair, he simply felt unsettled and confused. As if something important had been taken away from him.
Walking back into the open plan living room and kitchen, he was appalled to see that the small wooden table was laden with food. There was toast, bagels, an assortment of jams, pancakes, maple syrup, waffles, cereal, bacon, eggs, hash browns, yoghurt, muffins and a selection of fruits. Harry felt his jaw drop and his stomach contract at the very sight. It was terrifying.
It was only after a few minutes of standing stock still, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the feast before him, that he finally became aware that Snape was speaking to him, "I am not familiar with your breakfast arrangements so I took it upon myself to prepare a selection for you to choose from. You are free to choose anything you want."
Free to choose. Those words rattled around Harry's brain like a long forgotten mantra. Free to choose. Free to choose. He was, wasn't he? He could choose his way forward now. But even if he was free to choose, how could he let everyone down? The whole wizarding world was counting on him to save them from Voldemort. His mother had died to save him. He now had to make her sacrifice count by saving everyone else. "I'm not hungry, Professor. Can we begin our lesson now?"
Snape frowned and for a moment wore an uncharacteristic expression of confusion before quickly recovering his composure, "As you wish, Potter. We shall begin immediately." After clearing away the piles of food with a flick of his wand, Snape moved into the centre of the room and motioned for Harry to stand opposite him, "Prepare yourself now, Legilimens!"
As always, Harry felt completely unprepared for the howling rush of memories he was bombarded with. However, there was a difference. In the past, he had the impression that Snape was randomly poking through his mind. This time, Snape seemed to be skimming the surface of his memories, calling up recent thoughts, emotions and dreams. He seemed to be looking for something in particular. Harry glared at the older man, hating him for fishing through his subconscious so casually.
He tried to close his mind but his bubbling anger made it impossible. As the memories began to overwhelm him, one particular vision kept flashing in front of his eyes. One which he had been dreaming about for months without understanding its significance. One which always caused him to feel immeasurable envy without truly understanding why.
As Snape ended the spell, Harry felt his weakened body crumple onto the floor. With a sigh of irritation, Snape grabbed him and pulled him none too gently onto a nearby chair. "Talk, Potter. Who is that beggar you have been thinking about?"
Harry refused to look up, "You have no right. No right to go through my memories and invade my privacy. Those are MY memories. So stay OUT!" And with that, he forced himself onto his feet and raced for the door. It was locked. When alohomora didn't work, he blasted the door to pieces with reducto and ran down the corridor as fast as he could. He had no idea where he was going, all he knew was that he had to get as far away as possible before he had to confront his cowardice and the whole wizarding world came to know the truth about the hopelessness of their wizarding hero.
A/N: One last point, I appreciate that Snape's outburst in the last chapter and his treatment of Harry in this chapter appear to contradict, however, I assure you that all will be explained in due course.