Summary: An 'accident' concerning a Dementor changes Harry's life. After OotP, non HBP-compliant.

Disclaimer: JK Rowlings owns Harry Potter. I got the idea for this fic after reading 'Darkness Unleashed' by MadnessPersonified

Not Just A Kiss: Chapter 2: Messing With His Mind

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The unearthly scream travelled through the ancient hallways of Hogwarts, heedless of closed doors or silencing charms, the utter emotion in it strong enough to make portraits shiver. Ghosts hid themselves behind tapestries, armours dropped their weapons to press their iron gloves against their helmet, and in the Forbidden Forest animals silenced in fear. Even in Hogsmeade the scream hung in the air, thin and not noticable with mortal ears, but present in the shape of an uneasy feeling that crawled down everyone's spine and made them glance up at Hogwarts' castle.

In his chambers, Headmaster Dumbledore listened to the sorrowful scream and shook his head sadly.

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August 3rd 1996 –evening

After screaming his throat raw Harry had burrowed into the bed, attempting not to think about the mess his life had become by arranging the blankets around him. It wasn't a good distraction, because no matter what he did the cold remained, and it didn't manage to take his mind of things.

A tear slid down his cheek, freezing slowly on the way down.

Why did it always have to be him? Couldn't Voldemort have picked another bloke? Surely then this wouldn't have happened, his parents would still live, he wouldn't be important enough to be send Dementors, he wouldn't have been Kissed, he wouldn't have become... this...

Normally, Harry wouldn't wish his fate on anyone, but right now he begged to wake up in a world where Voldemort had picked Neville, where all this wouldn't have happened, or at least not to him...

If only he hadn't gone to the park that day...

There was a soft knock on his door. Without looking up, Harry screamed "Go away!"

The door swung open. Harry ignored the footsteps stubbornly, and buried his face in his pillow. He didn't want anyone to see him crying, he didn't want anyone to talk to him, he just wanted everything to go away...

A weight settled on his bed. Someone had just sat down on it, soemone who softly touched Harry's hair. "Hush, my boy. I know it's unfair, that everything seems to happen to you."

Harry didn't manage to hold back his sobs. He'd had enough, this was the straw that broke the camel's back, the final injustice of his life that broke the dam on his tears. He had managed to keep from crying for years, thanks to the Dursleys, but now... It was too much.

The man pulled him in a sitting position and wrapped his arms around the cold, shaking teenager. "Hush... Just let it out, you'll feel better toworrow..."

It was his Headmaster, the man he'd been so angry with last year, who placed him with the Dursleys and whom he really didn't know that well... But right now that didn't matter. It didn't even matter that if he closed his eyes, he could imagine the wrinkly arms belonged to the grandfather he'd never known. No, the only thing what really mattered, as tear after frozen tear trickled down his cheeks, was that he wasn't alone right now.

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August 4th 1996 – early morning

Harry woke the following morning with a start. He vaguely remembered the Headmaster leaving last evening when his Occlumency shields were failing, and how he fell asleep after that. His pillow was still a bit moist from his tears, which had melted during his sleep. Harry threw his legs out of his bed and tried to think rationally.

It wasn't easy. The horror of what he had become, the memory of the patronus, it nearly dragged him back into the little corner of his mind where fresh tears were waiting to be spilled. He decided he needed a shower, to take his mind off things.

Slowly he stood, and walked towards the small table near the door. He could see the dinner Madame Pomphrey had brought him yesterday. It was – or rather, had been – hot soup. Now it was yellow water with soggy vegetables in it. Harry felt a bit of regret he hadn't eaten it. He was a bit hungry now, and perhaps the soup would have chased the cold away...

Next to the plate lay a small mirror. Harry took it, and studied his reflection for a moment.

He didn't look any different. Perhaps a bit paler, with tired shadows under his eyes, but that was probably from lack of sleep. His hair was the same mess as ever, and his green eyes were still in desperate need of glasses.

That reminded him: where were his glasses? He hadn't seen them since the... incident.

He debated a moment who he would call with the mirror, Pomphrey or Snape, but it really wasn't much of a dilemma.

"Madame Pomphrey?"

The mirror flickered, and an image of the school nurse appeared in it. "Yes, Harry? Is there something wrong?"

"No not really, but could you please tell me where I can find a bathroom and a shower? And could you please tell me what happened to my glasses?"

"I'm afraid those were broken. The Headmaster has ordered new one to be made, they can arrive any time, and Professor Snape will probably bring them when he visits you."

"Oh."

"There's a bathroom next to your room, the Headmaster has arranged for a way for you acces it without having to use the hallway. Just tap the wall left of this door three times, and a doorway will appear. The usual entrance to this bathroom is locked, so you don't have to worry about someone disturbing you."

Harry nodded. "Thanks. How do I shut off this mirror?"

"Simply put it down."

"Okay. Goodbye, Madame Pomphrey."

Harry put the mirror down and did as she'd told him. When the door to the bathroom appeared, he quickly undressed and stepped into the shower. He turned it on the warmest setting, which should have brought down scalding hot water on his freezing body. It probably did – the downside was, Harry didn't feel it. The amount of steam was proof of the warmth of the water, but the drops that reached Harry's skin were as freezing as he was.

Harry closed his eyes. He felt as emotionally stable as a thunderstorm, and this wasn't helping.

After showering he brushed his teeth, declared his hair no more a mess than usual, and found some clothes in one of the cupboards. In plain black robes and with enough socks to make Dobby happy for a year, he finally re-entered his room.

A tiny sliver of warmth curled around him, to disappear almost immediately. He saw Snape sitting on a chair that he'd probably summoned from somewhere. The Potions Master had a hand pressed against his temple. "Quit it," he hissed.

Harry, wanting to feel that warmth again, approached him. Together with his anger for Snape was this desire enough for him not to notice the way he moved, the soundless gliding over the floor.

Snape whipped his head around, and fixed Harry with an upper-level glare. "I said, stop it."

The words managed to wake Harry from the odd daze he'd been experiencing. "I don't know how," he spat.

"Rubbish! It wasn't this bad yesterday, which means you're intentionally-"

"I'm not doing anything!" Like the day before, Harry could nearly feel his anger filling the room. The result was a slight increase in temperature, which Harry was grateful for. Snape however gasped, and pulled his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

Snape's patronus glowed so brightly Harry couldn't make out the form – Snape had obviously put a lot of power behind his spell. Not that Harry could think clearly at the moment – again, he found himself as far away from the silvery light as was possible, and he closed his eyes against the unbearable brightness. The pinpricks had returned, but a lot stronger than the day before, and Harry tried to crawl even further away, tormented by the loss of the warmth, so close, yet unreachable.

It seemed to take ages before the patronus faded. Harry looked up, to see that Snape was still there. "Stay there," he barked, when Harry made a move to get up. He obeyed, and wearily watched Snape's wand. He felt drained, tired enough to sleep for a day. He was cold again.

Snape had become even paler, and didn't move his wand from Harry. "We'll start with your Occlumency now. I don't want to stay any longer in your presence than is necessary, boy."

Harry refused to give in. Besides, he was hungry. "I haven't had breakfast yet."

"I'd say you have."

Harry frowned. "No, I haven't."

Snape smiled nastily. "Yes, you have. Don't you know, Potter? Dementors feed on emotions, and you just grabbed yourself some breakfast, in a way. If I hadn't defended myself, who knows what you might have done to me..."

"I'm not a Dementor," Harry replied, softly. He couldn't quite meet Snape's eyes when he said that.

Snape smirked unpleasantly. "But you are. Or did you cower in front of the nice little patronus because you have bufonophobia, Potter?"

Harry fell silent. He loathed Snape, but at the moment he loathed himself more. What he had become.

The Potions Master righted himself. "Clear your mind, Potter."

"Wait. Madame Pomphrey said you'd have new glasses for me."

" 'For me, sir.' " Snape corrected. "But as a matter of fact, I do have your new glasses. And you'll get them when you've mastered Occlumency enough for me to drop my extra defences. Clear your mind. Legilimens!"

Harry closed his eyes, attempting to feel Snape's presence in it. For a moment, he did notice something he could only descibe as a fleck of heat pushing through the ice of his mind, and he concentrated on it. Without knowing how, he leeched its warmth and saw it starting to freeze slowly.

Snape screamed in pain, and his presence in Harry's head pulled out. When Harry opened his eyes Snape was glaring daggers at him, still shivering and breathing irregularly.

"That wasn't Occlumency," he hissed. "Can't you do anything right, Potter? Just like your idiot father, never managing -"

"I advise you to shut up now, sir," Harry interrupted him, his anger growing again. "You're not helping me control myself. More the reverse, actually."

Against all probability, Snape did fall silent. He narrowed his eyes to Harry, and the turned around. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'll need to discuss what happened today with the Headmaster. It may take a while to find another way to instruct you in Occlumency."

"Wait. What about my glasses? And breakfast?" Harry asked quickly, but Snape had already closed the door behind him.

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