68. Unbelievable

The turbulent relationship between Harry Potter and Professor Snape was an open and well known thing. It had been of this nature since Harry's first step inside the Potions class during his first year.

Professor Snape took little time to deride Harry's knowledge on potion work with questions thinly veiled in contempt. Animosity was such a stable in Harry's life that he did not find it worth the effort to address the discontent from the man he never recalled meeting.

After a month of continually point losses for Gryffindor, the two seem to come to a quiet tactful agreement to dismiss the other.

Unfortunately, Headmaster Dumbledore had other ideas. With the knowledge of Harry's insight to Voldemort's activities, Dumbledore implored Harry to practice a means of protecting himself; Occlumency.

Occlumency was the magical art of protecting one's mind from forms of magical mind invasions. It was thoroughly interesting in both scope and training. Said training consisted of Professor Snape repeatedly invading his mind as Harry sat and resisted them.

The results were not promising. All Harry had received from the sessions were a sense of invasion and headaches.

"You lack focus, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape added with a sneer. He paced around the room and eyed Harry with contempt.

Harry calmed his heart. His pride was the least of his worries, especially with a branch of magic available for the taking. It mattered little what Professor Snape thought of him. "I apologize."

"I am touched by your sincerity," the man drawled as he waved aside his words. "Don't apologize, do better. It is something of a minor miracle that you are able to contain your emotions on such a rudimentary level."

Harry decided to accept the compliment buried in the vitriol. This was just another part of the lessons. Professor Snape would poke and prod at his emotions and demand he control them to suitable standards.

So far, all Harry had been able to accomplish was to guard his memories with Teleute jealously. Each memory was a gem in his life that he had no intention of sharing with others. It was likely that his loss in focus came from putting sole priority on a not insignificant set of memories as opposed to everything.

Professor Snape stood before Harry not unlike an executioner to a criminal. Looking Harry straight in the eyes, Professor Snape breached his mind again.

Harry hissed as felt foreign magic invade the recesses of his mind. His heart pounded madly as he perceived his memories being rummaged through. He fought to ignore the unsettling feeling and take control of his emotions.

The process was trying at best. Relatively minor memories were brushed against. But these were not the memories Professor Snape's probe were directed against. Like a particularly vicious snake, his probe struck his most personal memories.

Harry could recall Teleute cool touch on a hot summer day. Everything was just right. Everything was absolutely wrong. This moments were not meant of spectators.

Professor Snape was privy to the sight of Harry's eyes glowing an ominous and powerful green.

Within his own mind, Harry fought against the probe and infested it with his rejection. His mind would no longer be a plaything to Professor Snape or Voldemort. The probe became unrestrained and seemed to erupt.

The tampering of the probe had a surprising effect. Harry's mind was flooded with flashing images that told a tale.

A young boy lived in a cold home. His father was terror and his mother's comfort was slowly being drained. Anguish toyed with his life. A light formed and the boy met a girl who braided joy into her hair and danced with giggles. The boy held onto that light as a lifeline.

The boy was pulled to Hogwarts. Barbs and abuse assaulted him at all times, but the girl's light brought him peace. He found his strength and stood tall. She would smile at him and he at her.

Then trickier assailants came. Just like his peers, just like his father, they found joy in his suffering and misery. They made a game of it and laughed at their handiwork. But still the girl stood and supported him.

Flashes of dark bombarded the boy's spirit. Jealousy and power whispered into his ears and he listened too readily. The boy and girl stood across from each other at odds. Words left his lips that should never have been formed. The light of the boy's life was shattered and he felt truly alone.

No amount of begging or pleading brought the light back to him and he grew darker and morose for it. Dipping deeper and deeper into the darkness he nearly lost himself.

But then the darkness threatened what was once his light and he wavered and ran. The boy that had become a man pleaded for the girl who became a mother's life. Those of the dark dismissed him and those of the light leashed him.

A final image flashed in Harry's mind. The man, Professor Snape, held the woman's lifeless body in agony. His spirit had been broken and he wept as though he was that child crying at home again.

The woman was Lily Evans.

Harry and Professor Snape stumbled away from one another. The only sounds within the room were their haggard breaths. Looks of panic and disquiet were shared between the two. Harry had seen things never meant to come to his knowledge. From the looks of Professor Snape he too had seen more than expected.

Harry gazed at Professor Snape. Professor Snape eyed Harry. Neither uttered a word. Each uncomfortable at what they saw and what was seen. They were conflicted and lost on the nature of the person they had so disliked. The assumed motivations and disposition were shattered and blurred.

Wordlessly, Harry returned to his seat and Professor Snape stood before him once more.

"Focus your mind," Professor Snape spoke sternly, but detachedly.

"… Understood," Harry said softly.

And the two continued practicing in relative silence before departing their separate ways.