Of Badly Hidden Lies (and figuring out cool magic shit)

It's all Holy smoke and the flame dies fast

"You sure you'll be alright there, Harry?" Ron asked as they turned a corner in the dungeons. It was dingy down here, and with Harry's first Occlumency lessons today, his two brothers decided to tag along.

"Ron, dear, you've asked me that seven times now." Harry said in a high pitched voice.

"Well yeah, I know, but with what you told me when we got back, I'm just worried about you, prat." Harry laughed softly.

"I promise, I'm fine. Thank you for walking me all the way here." Neville nodded, silent. He was worrying Harry. He hadn't said much since dinner.

"Neville? What's up?" Harry asked the boy. Neville shook his head.

"I'll tell you later, the both of you, I promise. Just, not right now." Ron shrugged, patting Neville on his shoulder with a smile. Harry gave his friends a quick hug, then ventured into the dungeon bats office.

The room was shrouded in an eerie stillness as moonlight filtered through the short windows of the potion master's rooms. They were magic, of course. How could moonlight reach this hell? Severus Snape stood before the Pensieve, his dark eyes fixed on the swirling memories within. The decision he was about to make weighed heavily on him, but he knew that he had no other choice. He would teach this goddamn brat, then he could rub it in Dumbledore's face that Potter was useless.

As Snape gazed into the Pensieve, he felt a knot of apprehension tighten in his chest. He had heard the boy enter, and here he was, alone with a child that was biologically his. He whirled around, expecting to find a face full of anger. Expecting to see James Potter. Instead, he saw a boy that looked so much like him. So much like Lily, especially when he had that quizzical look in his eye.

"Potter."

"Professor."

"I hope you're prepared. Legilimens!" Snape casted the spell.

The intrusion was swift and uninvited, a silent trespass into the sacred sanctuary of another's mind. Snape's consciousness delved into Harry Potter's memories, navigating through the labyrinthine corridors of the young wizard's experiences. Flashes of bright lights, laughter, and moments of warmth brushed against his consciousness as he ventured deeper.

But as Snape delved further, he encountered barriers - walls erected by Potter himself to protect his most precious memories from external intrusions. Except-! The magic surrounding them wasn't Potters. It was darker, more sinister. He knew this magic, he knew it well. These barriers were formidable, a testament to the Dark Lord's skill as a Legilimens. Snape's brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to breach the defences, his wand movements precise and deliberate.

Suddenly, the memory landscape shifted. Snape found himself standing in a dimly lit chamber, the air heavy with foreboding. In the centre of the room stood Harry Potter, his posture tense, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Snape could sense the resistance radiating from the young wizard, an instinctual urge to protect his innermost thoughts. This boy wasn't the Potter he was standing in front of, oh no. He was younger. In clothes far too big and a body far to frail. It was a wonder Potter was even standing.

"You won't find what you're looking for," Harry's voice echoed in Snape's mind, a defiant challenge.

Snape's lips curled into a sardonic smile, his own determination unshaken. He began to walk slowly toward Harry, his steps deliberate, his gaze unwavering. "You underestimate me, Potter," he hissed, his words like a venomous serpent. "I am a master of the mind arts. Your barriers may be strong, but they are not impenetrable."

As Snape drew closer, the room seemed to darken further, shadows lengthening and swirling around them. The tension in the air was palpable, the clash of wills like a storm gathering on the horizon.