You can achieve a lot during the hours after work.
When they're not renting rubbish films from Blockbuster's, they slip into the school grounds to greet the Thestrals, feed stale bread to the giant squid. Sometimes Severus will leave Harry with Hagrid and a mug of tea whilst he has a beer and a smoke with Argus.
Harry subjects him to relentless questions and Severus answers them as best as he can. What happened to the house-elves in 1998? What did Severus's dad do for a living? Why doesn't he have a midlands accent?
Severus starts training him up on bridge (Grandma hinders with her advice), and when he brings up Occlumency again, Harry is receptive.
"This is a matter of life and death," Severus says, in the privacy of his garden.
"It usually is."
"I'm not comfortable with...pursuing anything between you and me," Severus begins, 'you and me' still a ludicrous expression on his tongue, "with your mind so open with regard to your wand. Its power and reputation..."
Harry's hand covers his. "I know. It's bad," he says. "Could you teach me? And be patient? I know I'm not great at it."
"You can do anything you put your mind to. Anything. You're annoyingly persistent."
Severus can see that Harry misses the compliment, the outburst of love. Surely the devotion is written on his face? Harry simply asks, "What if I can't?"
"You conjured a corporeal Patronus at thirteen, won the Triwizard Tournament—"
"Co-won—"
"Fine. The point remains—you can do it. I know you can."
Harry furrows his brow, and tucks Severus's hair behind his ear. "Will I stop meeting you in my dreams?"
"No," Severus says. "Occlumency is to keep out unwanted cerebral intrusions. To block me would require conscious effort, a supplementary mental wall."
"I don't want to ever block you out." Harry presses his lips to Severus's cheekbone. "Okay," he agrees, "let's do it."
Severus looks up various exercises for Harry to clear his mind before bed.
Once Harry has had a few days to practice on his own, they lie in his parents' room beneath the clouds, almost nose to nose.
"Ready?" Severus asks.
"I trust you," Harry breathes.
It's not quite the same thing as being 'ready'.
Severus's whispered Legilimens brushes the defences of Harry's mind.
Immediately he sees a dark cupboard, a weeping Ginevra, and bars across a bedroom window. The Dark Lord as a teenager is a horrifying sight, and so is a group of children punching a skinny Harry, and then there's the lifeless body of Diggory. Harry's mind resists reliving the atrocities. It's a feeble force, but it is there, so Severus withdraws to give him some breathing space.
"I felt something," Severus says. "A good first start."
They try again. There's a blazing row with the beautiful Nina, he watches the horror of Nagini pouring out of the neck of an aged woman, and Black gracefully arches through a veil—
Harry breaks their mental connection, and is shaking, shaking in his arms.
"You did it," Severus murmurs into his hair. "That was very good."
"D-didn't feel very good."
Harry buries his face into Severus's chest, who fiddles with the tiny hairs on the back of Harry's neck until his breathing calms down.
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The Space Between Failing and Falling • Snarry •
FanfictionA very long time ago, Severus resigned himself to the reality that he doesn't have a soulmate after all. He's finally a real Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and his life is perfectly tolerable, thank you very much. However, at the age of thirt...
