There were many things that Severus Snape expected to see from looking into Harry Potter's mind. That was not one of them. What was he supposed to do about this now? Curse the muggles to hell.
He didn't sign up for this. 'Except you did.' He sat back. They didn't have time for this. None of them did. He looked at Potter then. He boy looked quite uncomfortable. What was he supposed to do? Tell Dumbledore? But something like this…
"Explain." He managed to say. Harry fidgeted in his seat and avoided looking at him. He also stayed silent. "Very well, we'll start slow Potter. How do you know the man I saw?" He asked.
Potter kept looking down and clenched his jaw, not saying anything.
"You either tell me Potter or I tell the headmaster and he can get it out of you." Fear flickered in his green eyes as the boy looked up at him.
"You won't tell him if I tell you?" The boy said, his voice quiet, the hint of hope in his tone.
"It depends on what you tell me. And remember that the next time I use legilimency on you I'll know if you lied to me." He said sternly, cursing the headmaster for even putting him in this situation.
"He's a neighbour." At least he was talking.
"When did you first meet him?" Severus asked, sitting straight, looking down at him, making sure the other would be too intimidated to even think of lying to him.
"Christmas eve… when I was seven." The boy mumbled, starting to find his fingers particularly fascinating.
"Tell me what happened that day." Severus said.
Harry sighed, looking at everywhere except at him, slouching on the chair, straightening up, looking at the floor, then to the side. "…It's a long story," he mumbled.
"I doubt either one of us will sleep tonight, that leaves us with plenty of time." Severus replied. For a second he saw the anger flash in Potter's eyes. He was sure the obstinate brat would challenge him and storm off. Instead he visibly relaxed his shoulders, as if surrendering to the interrogation.
"The Dursleys kicked me out. They were starting their Christmas dinner." He said softly. "It was snowing. I hadn't eaten all day. I wanted to go to the park. I walked past his home. I'd seen him pass by the house a couple of times… just briefly saying hello."
"And that evening?" If he didn't have as much control of his emotions as he did he would be outwardly cringing, though he highly doubted that would help the brat be open about it.
"He opened the door… called me over. Said he had made a lot of extra food and would like some company. He was nice. And I was so hungry." He whispered. "He let me eat all I wanted. Let me watch some cartoons… let me drink some hot chocolate… it felt… it was nice." He played with his fingers. "Then I went back to the Dursleys. They let me in when it was time for bed. They pretended they hadn't noticed leaving me out." He said.
The story already hinted at neglect and emotional abuse from the Dursleys alone.
"Did you go over to his house often?" Severus asked.
"No... and yes? The Dursleys rarely let me be with other people… normal people… but if they ever turned their backs I would try my luck. In winter time I rarely went… unless the Dursleys left me outside, though that didn't happen often as I got older… and I did more accidental magic." He said. "In the summer I did yard work… I would sneak away and he would give me a drink." He shrugged.
"When did he…" Damn you Dumbledor. "When did he first touch you." He asked harshly. The boy visibly flinched and closed his eyes.
"When I was eight… eight and a half maybe… He said he really cared about me… He said he wanted to adopt me. I was so happy that I would be away from the Dursleys… I would have done anything to make him like me!" The boy was defending his actions, visibly shaking and trying to keep his composure. "I knew it was wrong… I knew it was… It felt wrong… but I… he was so nice to me." The teen covered his face, lowering his chest against his knees and his shoulders shook with the sobs that followed.
Severus felt entirely out of place then. He could not comfort the boy. What comfort could he possibly offer? This was something for Madam Pomfrey to handle. He reached to pat the boy's head but paused and pulled back remembering that man's behaviour.
"His name is?" He asked. The boy seemed to take some deep breaths but kept sobbing. He didn't look up and his voice came out in broken little whines.
"H-he just… I just called him Mr. Emwood." He mumbled.
"…How far did he go with you, Potter?" He asked. For a second Severus thought he went too far but as the boy seemed to exhaust himself he managed to answer.
"All the way… when I was ten. I got really scared after the third time I… I didn't go back… and then Hagrid saved me and I came here… to Hogwarts…" Harry whispered. To think that the small boy of eleven had already gone through all that by the time he passed through those doors for the first time. Life was unfair. That was what he always told himself, but he found it impossible to say it to the boy now.
"…You weren't ten years old in that memory." He replied instead. The boy looked up then, sitting back, choosing to stare at a jar of beetles to his left, his eyes red but dry.
"I was hungry." Potter said, his voice quiet and resigned.
"You knew better." Severus said.
"I knew hunger… and guilt... Voldemort-"
"Do not say his name!" He hissed. The boy paused but continued.
"He is back because of me. Cedric is dead because of me."
"Potter the martyr, carrying the sins of the world on his skinny shoulders." He scoffed. Harry tensed.
"I wanted to feel nothing… I wanted to think of nothing."
"You don't expect me to believe that you think you deserved this do you? What next, Potter? Should I charm your potion's knife to prevent you from making yourself feel nothing again?" He snapped.
"I should have died! Not Cedric! Not my parents!" Harry gasped, hearing himself say it was all the more painful. He never should have lived. His parents would have survived then. Someone else would have defeated Voldemort. Maybe permanently instead of temporarily. "Why did you have to find out?" He whimpered. Snape didn't reply at first.
"I assure you, Potter, I would rather not spend my Wednesday night teaching you a skill of the mind. However…you need to understand that what that muggle did was wrong. And it was not your fault. Not when you were seven, ten, or even now." His tone was harsh and he still spat his name out as if it were a disease, yet Harry looked up as he realised the other was indeed trying to comfort him. "I will inform muggle authorities." He stood and Harry felt the world crumbling around him. So much for Snape having any shred of humanity.
"Don't please! Everyone fill find out… please!" To see a Gryffindor begging would have made him content beyond imagination in any other circumstance. Especially if that Gryffindor was Potter. But somehow seeing the desperation in those green eyes made his stomach twist even more than it did with the story.
"Relax you insolent brat. Your identity will not come up. That must wait until morning however. If you go to sleep now… the dark lord may still attack your mind."
Harry felt so tired. He didn't want to go through that again. "I won't be able to do it…" he whispered.
"You must clear your mind. Even when you are at your most vulnerable. That's when the dark lord will attack. You have to be ready. Prepare yourself." The boy cringed as Snape raised his wand. "Legilimens."
