Leaning down a bit more, Severus tucked away his wand, feeling confident in his ability to do this wandlessly after so many years of practice on the unsuspecting, although he wasn't yet practised enough to manipulate the spell without speaking.
"Legilimens," he murmured, sable locked onto Sirius Black's grey as he delved into the other's mind and mingled through the memories. There were so many layers to his mind that Severus found himself slightly taken aback. Most of his target practice came in the form of particularly daft fellow students or those much younger than he, so he wasn't altogether prepared for the rush of better developed thoughts that hit him. If questioned, he would vehemently deny that Sirius Black had any more mental prowess than a constipated Blast-Ended Skrewt.
Thinking that he had managed to pull apart the irrelevant memories and thoughts about Black's day-to-day activities, he came upon a memory of him lying on a red sofa with... Lupin hovering close, offering calming words and meaningful looks. Another memory of the two of them holding hands and talking casually. Severus forced himself away from that part of Black's mind and ploughed onward, searching for any clues as to the other boy's odd behaviour.
A flash of blond and the scene unfolded into a misty representation of what Black must have thought was a secret tryst. Severus almost felt embarrassed for the git when he uttered the wrong name and — that's when things turned violent. He could barely pull himself away, could feel himself tensing at the effort, when his mind's eye turned to see Rodolphus Lestrange emerging from a cabinet and then they were gone, pulled away to someplace that looked like it ought to be familiar. The superimposed flash of a black statue hovered ominously over everything else for a moment, blocking out the rest of the memory and he knew that this was it. Severus latched onto it without remorse, attacking it with his mind and years of memorised hexes that would translate into a usable weapon here in the midst of someone's thoughts. The bombarded statue seemed to give way, losing its wicked black colouring and fading into a dull grey, pushed aside and revealing the memory that it had concealed.
Before he could suck in his breath, he saw a flash of cold, elongated pupils boring right back into him, as though they could see through his soul.