A/N: This snippet is taken from Chapter 15 of Harry Potter and the Sect of the Serpent. Harry has just realized that a Legilimens can choose which memories to seek out, and that Professor Snape had been intentionally forcing him to relive his worst memories.

I was having trouble with the scene, so I decided to write it from Remus' point of view, and I was quite pleased with some of what I got. So, here it is for your reading pleasure. )

Remus watched the boy in the mirror rage. His words were strong and angry, hateful really, but his eyes were those of a frightened child who has discovered once again that the world is not what he was promised.

Remus himself was a little shocked by the accusations that poured forth from Harry's lips. They were tainted with the bitter taste of betrayal, but Remus saw the truth in them. Severus had used Harry's past against him, and what little respect the boy might have had for his professor had vanished in a puff of disillusionment.

"And he had the nerve -- the nerve -- to rail at me for looking at his memories, when he'd been mucking about with mine all term!" Harry shouted at him through the mirror. "He made me relive it all on purpose! Everything! The Dementors, Dudley beating me up as a kid, Cedric, the graveyard, my Mum screaming..."

Remus felt his breath catch in his throat. He vividly remembered Harry telling him what he heard when the Dementors approached him almost three years ago, and at the time, he'd been ready to blast every single Dementor off the face of the planet just to spare Harry from the terrible visions they brought.

"And all those bloody nightmares," Harry continued vehemently. "He was laughing at me the whole time, Remus. I know he was."

Remus didn't know what to say to the boy. As likely as not, he was right. Severus was just the sort of twisted bastard that would probably have taken no small pleasure in watching James' son, Sirius' protégé, suffer, yet that couldn't have been the only reason. Severus wasn't the type to cause pain needlessly; as a means to an end, certainly, but never without reason. He'd had to have had a reason.

"How long have you been here?" Harry said suddenly to someone out of Remus' line of sight.

"Long enough," a voice replied shakily.

"Who's there, Harry?" Remus asked. He tried to make out from what little he could see of the room around Harry where he was. It looked like the dormitories perhaps.

"It's just Ron," Harry said flatly. Harry held up the mirror so Ron and Remus could see one another. Ron smiled weakly at him. His face was pale, freckles standing out boldly against his white skin; he looked just as shocked as Remus felt to have heard Harry's revelations.

"Harry," Remus prodded, unwilling to be distracted, "did you tell anyone what was going on? Ron? Hermione?"

Harry scowled, looking back down at the mirror, and shook his head.

"I... I thought that's just how it was supposed to be. I mean, if Voldemort were trying to break into my brain, I didn't expect it to be pleasant, did I?"

Remus considered. He knew what he was going to say next was going to sting, but he didn't see any way around it.

"Perhaps he believed he was acting in your best interests, Harry."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "How could listening to my Mum be murdered over and over again possible have been in my best interests?" he demanded, but he didn't wait for Remus to answer. "How can you defend him? He's the reason Sirius is dead!"

Remus' strong facade threatened to crack at the mention of his name. "Harry..." he began.

"No!" Harry cut him off. "He is. The dreams were always worse after lessons with him. Making me see all those terrible things again and again only made me weaker, Remus! It's his fault I couldn't block out the nightmares! It was all stupid, bloody, Snape's fault."

Remus put his hand across the bridge of his nose in a weary gesture. He couldn't immediately think of any way to respond, so he said the first thing that came into his mind. "Professor Snape, Harry..."

"Fine. Stupid, bloody, greasy Professor Snape's fault."

Remus couldn't believe how much he sounded like Sirius. And James. It seemed eternally unfair that those two should go off and leave Remus alone to cope with a living, breathing, walking reminder of them, whom he couldn't escape even if he'd wanted to. And he didn't want to.

Merlin, the irony of it all! He wanted to join Harry in his indignation and hatred of Severus Snape. He wanted to commiserate and call him dirty names and plot revenge. It's what Padfoot would have done; Prongs too, like as not. But not Mooney. He was destined for loftier ideals, no matter what his gut told him to feel. The Voice of Reason incarnate, a role he had cursed more than once then, yet one he seemed destined forever to reprise.

"Harry, whatever else he may be, Snape is the reason that you're not dead, or had you forgotten that? He's the one who figured out what had happened and sent the rest of us to help you."

"I wish he hadn't," Harry muttered bitterly.

Remus stared at him. "Don't say that!" he said harshly, before he even knew what he was saying. He banged his fist on the table and the remnants of his lunch jumped noisily. "Don't even think that! Harry, you're too important... Sirius knew that and -- believe it or not -- so does Snape."

"I don't want to be important!" Harry shouted back. "I don't want people to die for me or because of me -- and don't say he didn't! I don't want to--" He glanced away from the mirror, presumably over at Ron. "I don't want any of it!"

Remus took a deep steadying breath. He couldn't let his own emotions get the better of him. He'd realized that he'd been losing control more often lately, especially when it came to Harry. The boy had somehow found a chink in the armor, without even knowing it.

"I know you don't," he said finally, his calm facade back in place, his momentary outburst under control. "But you can't live your life in denial, and you can't live it trying to place blame for something that was no one's fault."

He wished futilely that he could reach out through the mirror and touch the boy, lay a hand on his shoulder, be more reassuring somehow. Sirius had been good at it. Remus had seen more than once the way he could just glance at Harry in the right way and all the tension would release from the boy's hunched shoulders. Remus had caught himself unconsciously trying to recreate it more than once, but his glances never seemed to have the same effect. He sighed inwardly.

"You can't waste your life on hate, Harry; it's far too precious for that. Take it from someone who knows."

Harry's expression was something between murderous and morose. He wasn't looking at Remus directly, but scowling off to one side. Remus decided to try a different tact.

"Besides, look what it does to a person. You want to end up looking like Professor Snape? Or with grey hair at thirty like me?" Harry snorted reluctantly, his eyes finally traveling back to meet Remus'. Deep green eyes that had seen too much; old in his young man's face. Lily's eyes. Remus felt his throat constricting painfully again and tried to push the thought from his mind.

"I'm sorry," Harry said finally. He gave another ironic little snort. "I seem to be saying that to you a lot, lately. I swear, I'm not normally this much of a prat."

"Yeah you are," Ron retorted from somewhere out of Remus' line of sight. Harry grinned, and so did Remus.