A/N: There is a scene missing here, and I've been stewing over just what it is for about two days. It might be an entire chapter, or just a few lines. I'm not sure. I know what happened in the interim, but none of it seems to be interested in writing itself. Snape and Dumbledore discussed what Snape saw in Knockturn Alley, Molly tried to force some dinner on Remus and Snape who both declined and were cajoled into admitting that they'd already eaten and then Snape told Harry that they were having another Occlumency lesson. Sounds rather like an entire chapter, doesn't it? I might write it later. But for now, I'm giving up trying to find it all in my brain and moving on with this story that hasn't been updated in a few days.

"Well, Mr. Potter, have a seat," Severus said, gesturing at the other chair as he settled himself in the one nearest the window. "We can't spend all evening here."

Harry sat slowly, watching him with suspicion etched clearly in his emerald eyes. "But the pensieve…"

"Would be nice to have tonight, but is not here," Severus replied smoothly. Much more smoothly than he felt. He'd known he would have to breach this subject eventually, though he hadn't relished the idea, much less like this, away from the familiar comfort of his office and away from the safety provided by the borrowed pensieve. But, perhaps it was for the best. He was calmer just now than he had been in months. "Have you been practicing clearing your mind?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied, and Severus studied him for a moment, not sure he dared to believe it.

"Well," he murmured, "we'll find out I suppose. Clear your mind. One… two… three… Legilimens." He entered the boy's mind, and, though it was not entirely clear, it was rapidly becoming so. Slowly, he forced his way deeper, looking for a stray thought, a fleeting memory, anything to latch onto. Nothing. He probed harder, and nothing still. Cautiously, he opened his own mind and fed a memory of his own into the boy's vulnerable mind, the first day of Potions, with his standard speech. As expected, Harry latched onto the memory, and it gave Severus the key to more memories, and once he had the one, the others branched out quickly. Harry was sitting in Transfiguration. Harry was sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry was facing Quirrell, shocked to hear that it was the stuttering professor who had been trying to kill him.

"Stop," Severus said softly, and Harry cringed.

"I tried, Professor. Really. I just…"

"Silence," Severus replied, holding up a hand. "You did quite well, actually. You did not offer me any memories until I fed one to you, and you will learn to not respond. I only wish you had more time for that trick. For now, though, you did well enough. We need to try something different now. Tell me, Mr. Potter, what do you think would happen if a skilled Legilimens entered your mind and found nothing there?"

Harry was quiet for a moment, then speculated hesitantly, "He'd know I was hiding something?"

"Correct. And, what would that tell him?" Harry frowned in concentration, but was quiet. "Why would you hide something from him, Harry?"

"Because I don't want him to know about it?"

Severus nodded. "And what would you not want him to know about?"

"Lots of things. Who all is in the Order, especially you since you're a spy, how much I know. The prophecy…"

"So, things worth hiding," Severus prompted. "Don't make it more difficult than it is. And, if he knows you have something worth hiding, what is this skilled Legilimens likely to do?"

"Try harder to find out what it is?"

"Precisely," Severus replied briskly, standing, clasping his hands behind his back. "So, logically, what is the best tactic, Mr. Potter?"

"To keep him from knowing that I have anything to hide?"

"Very good. And to do that, you will need an even greater measure of control. You will need the ability to turn his probing away from the thoughts you do not wish him to see, while admitting him access to ones that are harmless."

"And how do I do that?"

"We're going to try this again, Potter, but this time with even more control. Do not close yourself off to me this time; I need a memory from you. Legilimens," he said smoothly before Harry had a chance to protest. The first suitable memory he found was of his explanation of Occlumency from last winter, and he probed slowly into it, forcing Harry to relive it. "That memory could be dangerous, for all of us," Severus said softly.

Harry was nodding, wide-eyed, but sans the normal distrust and hatred.

"Now, I want you to concentrate on that memory. Make it as real as possible, and then clear your mind of that memory. Just that one memory, Potter, and when I enter your mind again, I want to see other memories. Now, Legilimens." A very young Harry was lying on his stomach in the cupboard under the stairs, playing with a spider. He was at the zoo, talking to a snake. He was sitting in Transfiguration, trying to get the legs off his button.

"Good," he murmured, continuing to sift through the memories and thoughts in Harry's head. Harry was swimming under the lake in the Triwizard Tournament. He was making a face at a mushroom-flavored jellybean. He was sitting with a girl, holding her hand across a table in Hogsmeade. He was kissing the same girl… Severus chuckled as Harry deflected him from that memory. "Very good, Mr. Potter," he commented dryly. Harry was emerging from a trapdoor, but before Severus could see where, he was deflected again. Harry was peering at the Marauder's Map. He was receiving the Map from Fred and George, and that memory disappeared quickly as well.

"Finite," Severus murmured, and placed his wand in his lap. "Good, Mr. Potter. I think you understand the idea behind it. We will need to work on your ability to deflect attention more quickly, but I think that perhaps you will succeed in this after all."

"Can I ask you a question, sir?"

"May," Severus corrected with a sigh. "You may ask me a question."

Harry nodded impatiently. "Will you teach me the Legilimency as well?"

For a moment, Severus was astounded. He would have never dreamed that Potter would ask him to teach him anything, but the request was nearly respectful, and Severus found himself actually considering the request. "Why?" he asked softly after a moment. "What use have you for this skill?" Harry's silence was enough to confirm Severus' suspicions. "Legilimency is no toy, Mr. Potter. It is not a quaint charm. Observe. Legilimens!" Without warning, Severus plunged into Harry's mind, forcing his way through memories quickly and harshly, bringing them to the surface and rummaging through them with all the subtlety of a thief ripping apart an office in search of a leaf of parchment.

Harry struggled, physically and mentally against the sudden onslaught, but Severus continued his probing, digging up memories. Harry was sitting in a dark room, looking at pictures of Arabella Figg's cats. He was sitting in the snow, crying. He was standing, frightened and alone at Kings Crossing. He was facing a Dementor. Severus held onto that memory, keeping it near the surface, then discarded it quickly. Harry was staring into a mirror, seeing his parents' reflections. He was curled up on a too-small cot, shaking with a fever in the middle of the night and trying not to make a sound.

Abruptly, Severus exited his mind. "Finite," he hissed, watching Potter as he breathed hard, wrapping his arms around himself. For a long moment, Severus fought the urge to sympathize with the boy, to offer some words of comfort, such as they would be coming from him. Slowly, Harry seemed to gather himself. "Is that what you wish, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked softly. "To rip through someone's mind, with no more care than a dog chewing at the pages of a book?"

Harry had lifted his feet to the edge of the chair and was holding his knees to his chest, staring distrustfully at Severus. "Why did you do it like that?" he asked, then added as an afterthought, "Sir?"

Severus let the silence settle between them, lengthening into an awkward pause, then spoke quietly. "Because I have been kind to you, Mr. Potter, whether you wish to believe it or not. Legilimency is a study in subtlety, or it is a ruthless invasion of another's privacy. Learning is always clumsy, and I would not subject anyone to your carelessness without good reason. And believe me, Mr. Potter, what I just did is gentle compared to the fumbling associated with first attempts at Legilimency. So I ask again. Why do you wish to learn?" Harry was silent again. "Whose mind do you wish to try and filet?"

"It would help with the D.A.," Harry said finally. "If I could tell why people want to join. Then I'll know if someone is there because her boyfriend is, or if it's because she really believes in it."

Shaking his head slightly, Severus responded, "Absolutely not. If you wish me to teach you that, it will have to be an order from the Headmaster, and believe me, Mr. Potter, I will fight that order if it comes."

"How did you learn, sir?"

Severus leaned back into his chair, his elbows on the arms, fingers steepled while he considered whether or not to answer that question. Finally, he decided it would hurt nothing. "My mother taught me," he replied softly. "Before I even received my Hogwarts letter."

Harry leaned his head onto his knees. "Can I ask you a question?"

Severus sighed. "You truly are thick-skulled at times, Potter. It's may. May I ask you a question. Of course you can—you are able to do so, you wish permission."

Harry scowled. "May I ask you a question?"

"You may."

"What was your family like?"

Severus blinked in surprise. "Pardon me?" he asked, not sure he'd heard that right.

"What was you family like? You know, your mum and dad. Were they nice?"

"I hardly see how that is any of your business," Severus replied stiffly. "I think this is enough for one night. You are to practice emptying your mind of single thoughts, and continue to empty it entirely before you go to sleep. Now…" he frowned, suddenly realizing that, not being at the school, he couldn't very well tell Harry to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry, damn the boy, seemed to realize that too. "All right. But why don't you want to tell me what your family was like? Sir?"

Severus scowled. "You certainly are brave tonight, Potter."

"You can't give me a detention or take points away here."

For a moment, Severus just stared, then laughed suddenly. "Touché, Mr. Potter," he said, standing and walking slowly to the student's chair. "But I doubt I will lack the opportunity next week," he threatened, leaning over the chair so his nose was only inches from Harry's. Damn it, but that was more intimidating when he was in his office, and in his robes instead of Muggle street clothes.

"Fine. Then I'm already in trouble so I have nothing to lose by asking again."

Glowering, Severus straightened. "You also have nothing to gain. Now, if you will excuse me…" he walked to the door, but he'd barely reached it before Harry was standing.

"That memory I saw before, that was your dad and your mum, right?"

"I am reasonably sure that I told you never to speak of that," Severus said in a soft, dangerous tone, "but if I failed to do so then, allow me to correct the oversight now. Never speak of those things; to anyone, including me." He opened the door and was in the corridor, once again acutely aware that he was considerably less intimidating without the signature swirl of ebon robes.

"Is it really that bad?" Potter asked, pursuing him down the stairs. Severus quickened his pace, trying to outdistance the boy, but failing as he refused to run and Harry seemed to have no such compunctions. "Please, professor, I just want to…"

"Potter..." he said in a warning tone as he sat at the table again, not even looking up at the boy, and for his efforts (and the effort of keeping his temper in check was great), Severus received only sharp looks from Lupin, the two elder Weasleys, and McGonagall.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Here, Severus, have some cake," Molly said suddenly, placing a thick wedge of chocolate cake in front of him. Since she'd worked out that he liked chocolate cake, hardly a day went by that she didn't bake a fresh one, and encourage him to gorge himself on it.

"Because it is none of your affair," he replied tightly, then nodded to Molly. "Thank you."

"What would it hurt? Are you afraid we might start to think of you as human? Don't worry, there's no danger in that!" Harry turned on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen, leaving everyone to gape disbelievingly.

"Harry!" Molly sounded aghast, and Severus stared at his cake, becoming very interested in the nuts embedded in the frosting. He was just waiting for someone to start berating him for upsetting the precious Potter. With a scowl, he took a bite of the cake and made a silent bet with himself as to who would speak first. His money was on McGonagall.

To his surprise, it was Lupin. "What was all that about?" he asked, sitting down across from Severus. "What wouldn't you tell him?"

Severus lifted his head just enough to glare menacingly. "He asked about my family and I told him it was none of his concern," he replied succinctly. "And it isn't."

Molly looked torn, and finally she dried her hands on a cuptowel and slipped out of the kitchen.

"He's just a boy, you know. He's still trying to work out where he fits into everything. He asks everyone about their family eventually," Lupin observed. "It's probably a sign of his growing trust that he asked you."

Severus' scowl did not lighten by a fraction. "I'm honored," he spat, dropping his fork onto his plate.

"I'm not trying to defend him, Severus. He had no call to say what he did. I merely hoped that you could be persuaded to forgive him the transgression, given that he is..."

"That he is Harry Potter and therefore exempt from all standards of society? Of course. How foolish of me."

McGonagall lowered herself into the chair beside Severus and leaned her head to his to speak softly. "He has had as miserable a life to this point as you had at that age. Perhaps you could find it in your heart to turn the other cheek from time to time, even if his actions are inexcusable."

Severus sighed. "Fine," he muttered. "I know when I've lost. I'll go apologize to the little..."

"No one is asking you to do any such thing, Severus. Just... forgive him. Unless there is a reason he deserves an apology from you...?"

He reflected momentarily that Potter probably deserved a number of apologies from him, but he wasn't likely to get any of them. And for this least of all. "No," he replied, "he instigated this on his own."

The kitchen door opened again and a sullen-looking Potter re-entered the room, hands in his pockets, looking properly abashed. Molly was directly on his heels, her hands on her hips, watching him. Potter grimaced, then took a deep breath and walked over to where Severus was sitting. "I'm sorry, Professor, for being rude. I shouldn't have said that."

For a moment, Severus was tempted to retort that he wasn't interested in apologies that Molly Weasley had ordered him to make, and as he glanced up at her, her eyes focused on Harry in the same way that they were normally focused on Fred and George, Severus had no doubt in his mind that it had been Molly, not Harry, who decided that the apology was called for. As it happened, though, he realized before speaking that he didn't actually care about the motivations, or really even whether or not the boy was truly sorry. He was astounded, when he thought about it, that Molly had decided the offense great enough to intervene on his behalf. And, Lupin and McGonagall had also allowed that Harry was out of line. The three of them had come down on his side in this matter, the first indication he'd ever had from any of them that the untouchable boy who lived was, indeed, just a bratty teenager like any other bratty teenager. He changed his intended words to something along the lines of 'forget it, Potter,' but stopped himself once more before he spoke, suddenly recalling the graceful way Lupin accepted apologies. He nodded slightly. "Apology accepted, Mr. Potter," he replied almost formally. Harry shot Molly a questioning look, and she nodded, and he turned around, still looking like he had a bitter taste in his mouth, and Severus suddenly had an almost irresistible desire to laugh. Imagine, the famous Harry Potter pouting over being told to apologize. "Come here, Mr. Potter," he said suddenly, and Harry cringed, but returned. Severus waved to a chair and Harry sat, looking as though he were trying very hard to be on his best behavior.

"I want to explain something to you, Mr. Potter," he said softly. "Rumor has it that you have had an unhappy childhood, and, believe me when I say that the older you get, the more you will wish to forget it. And there are many who have had equally unhappy childhoods, and do not wish to have the past dredged up again."

"Did you have an unhappy childhood?" Harry asked, and Severus sighed. Hadn't he just told the boy that?

"Very," he replied shortly. "And an unhappy adolescence and an unhappy adulthood and I don't wish to discuss any of it with you or anyone else. Is that quite clear?"

Harry nodded, but spoke again. "Sometimes it helps to talk about things," he offered.

"So people keep telling me," Severus countered. "And I've yet to see the benefit. Now drop it, Mr. Potter."

"But..."

"Harry, go see what Ron's up to," Arthur said, sounding tired. "And stop wheedling Professor Snape."

With a sigh, Harry stood, looking abashed again. "Yes sir," he muttered, more to his shoes than anything, and slipped out of the room. Severus stared after him.

"He is very different here than he is at school, isn't he?" he observed after a moment.

Lupin nodded. "Very. The way the Dursleys treat him is barely human, and I think he half-expects every rebuke to come with some horrid punishment."

Severus frowned at the door. "What do they do to him?" he asked quietly.

Lupin was silent, as were Molly and Arthur. It was McGonagall who spoke finally. "That is no more for us to tell you than it is for us to tell him about your past," she replied. "Though, if you are interested in hearing it, perhaps you should ask him. But only if you are willing to reciprocate the tale." He looked oddly at Minerva, who smiled sympathetically. "You and he have more in common than either of you realize."