I was in my bedroom at Grimmauld place, packing up all of my things, because tomorrow I was heading back to Hogwarts. The two weeks that I had spent with Sirius were a lot of fun. Sirius was in a very cheery mood the whole time, evidently happy to have company for once, but now his mood was quickly darkening. I felt bad leaving him all alone, but there wasn't anything I could do. I had to go back to school.

When I finished packing, I went down to the kitchen to grab some lunch. Just as I was about to sit down to eat, I heard a knock at the door. I went to the door and looked through the peep-hole, and to my horror, I saw Snape standing there, looking as mean and bitter as ever. I thought about just pretending like I hadn't heard the knock, but Snape might have important news for Sirius concerning the Order, so I reluctantly opened the door.

"Sirius is upstairs," I said, as Snape walked across the threshold.

"I'm here to see you, Potter," said Snape. "The Headmaster has sent me to tell you that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."

"Study what?" I said blankly. Snape sneered.

"Occlumency, Potter. The magical Defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."

"Why do I have to study Occlumency?" I said, totally confused.

"Because the Headmaster thinks it a good idea," snapped Snape. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, especially Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"

"Yes," I said. "Who's going to be teaching me?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am," he said.

I had the horrible sensation that my insides were melting. Extra lessons with Snape - what on earth had I done to deserve this?

"I will expect you at eight o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions." He stepped back out the door, just as Sirius was walking down the entrance hall.

"Was that just Snape I saw?" Sirius asked me.

"Yeah," I said, shutting the door.

"What was he doing here?" said Sirius, looking angry.

"He came to tell me that he's giving me Occlumency lessons this term." I sighed. "More lessons with Snape, just what I need."

Sirius patted my shoulder, consolingly.

"Here," he said, handing me small, rectangular package. "I want you to have this."

"What is it?" I asked.

"A way of communicating with me," said Sirius. "Let me know if Snape's giving you a hard time, all right?"

"Okay," I said. "I'll go put it in my trunk. Thanks."

I went back upstairs, and stowed the package away in the bottom of my trunk. I knew I would never use whatever it was. I would not lure Sirius from his place of safety, no matter how foully Snape treated me in our upcoming Occlumency lessons.

* * *

I took the Knight bus back to Hogwarts. When I got to Gryffindor Tower, I scanned the room for Ron and Hermione. I found them sitting in our usual arm chairs.

"Hey guys!" I said. "How were your vacations?"

"Good, thanks," said Hermione. "How was yours?"

"Good, but you won't believe what happened yesterday."

"What?" said Ron excitedly.

"Snape came to Grimmauld Place to tell me that he's giving me private Occlumency lessons every Monday night from now on. How much does that suck?"

"A ton," said Ron. "What is Occlu- whatever?"

"Occlumency," corrected Hermione. "It's the protection of the mind against outside penetration. But why do you need Occlumency lessons, Alyssa?"

"I have no idea," I said. "All I know is that I'm not going to have much time for D.A. meetings, now that I have Occlumency lessons on top of Quidditch practice and homework."

* * *

All that I could think about during my classes the next day was the Occlumency lesson that I was going to have that night. I was absolutely dreading it.

At eight o'clock, I walked down to the dungeons, which was the last place I wanted to be, knocked on Snape's office door, and entered. The first thing I notice was Dumbledore's Pensieve on his desk. I wondered why Snape would need it.

"Shut the door behind you, Potter."

I jumped slightly and realized that Snape had been lurking in the shadows. I shut the door, feeling like I was imprisoning myself. When I turned around, Snape was sitting behind his desk and was pointing silently at the chair opposite him. I sat down and glanced at Snape. His cold black eyes were fixed upon me, loathing etched in every line of his face.

"Well, Potter, you know why you are here," he said. "The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency-"

"And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?" I said, looking directly into Snape's eyes and wondering whether he would answer.

"Do not interrupt me, Potter," said Snape in a dangerous voice.

"Sorry, sir," I said.

Snape eyed me. "In the past, it appears that you had visions of the Dark Lord. Now that he is strong again, Professor Dumbledore believes that it is possible that he may be able to see into your mind too when it is most relaxed and vulnerable - when you are asleep, for instance. The Headmaster wants to prevent this from happening at all costs, so he wishes me to teach you how to close your mind."

Snape pulled out his wand from an inside pocket of his robes and I tensed in my chair, but Snape merely raised the wand to his temple and placed its tip into the roots of his hair. When he withdrew it, some silvery substance came away, which broke as he pulled the wand away from it and fell gracefully into the Pensieve. Twice more, Snape did this, then, without offering any explanation of his behavior, he picked up the Pensieve carefully, removed it to a shelf out of our way and returned to face me with his wand held at the ready.

"Stand up and take out your wand, Potter."

I got to my feet, feeling nervous. We faced each other with the desk between us.

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," said Snape.

"And what are you going to do?" I asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape softly. "We are going to see how well you resist… brace yourself, now. Legilimens!"

Snape had struck before I was ready, before I had even begun to summon any force of resistance. The office swam in front of my eyes and vanished. A memory formed in my mind.

I was nine years old, and I was hurriedly climbing up a tree in order to avoid being bitten by Ripper, Aunt Marge's bulldog…

I felt like I was an outsider, looking in on a scene. It was as if I was looking in a Pensieve, except that this was my mind... I watched as the Dursleys and Aunt Marge came running out of the house, laughing. Then the scene changed…

I was eleven and sitting on a stool in the Great Hall with the Sorting Hat on my head. I could hear the Hat saying, "Hmm… difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

I could feel the panic I had felt four years before, and I could hear the thoughts going through my head: Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the Sorting Hat. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you're sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!" The scene changed again…

I was eleven still and looking at my parents' reflection in the Mirror of Erised for the first time. I was so close to the mirror that my nose was nearly touching that of my reflection. I could feel what I had felt then, a powerful kind of ache inside, half joy, and half terrible sadness.

I watched as my eleven year old self whispered, "Mom? Dad?" and I saw tears come to my eyes.

I had become so consumed in the memory that I forgot that Snape was also watching it. "No," I thought angrily. "You're not watching this. This is private."

I felt a sharp pain in my knee. Snape's office had come back into view and I realized that I had fallen to the floor; one of my knees had collided painfully with the leg of Snape's desk. I looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry welt there, like a scorch mark.

"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" asked Snape coolly.

"No," I said bitterly, getting up from the floor.

"I thought not," said Snape, watching me closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control, but for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been. You managed to stop me eventually. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."

"I'm trying," I said angrily, "but you're not telling me how!"

"Manners, Potter," said Snape dangerously. "Now, I want you to close your eyes."

I threw him a filthy look before doing as I was told. I did not like the idea of standing there with my eyes shut while Snape faced me, carrying a wand.

"Clear your mind, Potter," said Snape's cold voice. "Let go of all emotion…"

I tried to empty my mind, tried not to think, or remember, or feel…

"Let's go again… on the count of three… one - two - three -Legilimens!"

I was twelve years old and lying on my bed at 4 Privet Drive. The door and window were barred, and my stomach was rumbling…

I was thirteen and crouching behind a bush at the shore of the lake and watching as dementors closed in on Sirius and I on the opposite shore. I flung myself out from behind the bush and pulled out my wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! " I yelled. And out of the end of my wand burst a blinding, dazzling, silver doe. It was galloping silently away from me, across the black surface of the lake. I saw it lower its head and charge at the swarming Dementors…

There was a blast of green light, and I heard something heavy fall to the ground beside me. I could feel the pain of my scar heighten, but then it diminished. I could feel the terror I had felt, afraid of what I was about to see. I opened my eyes. Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside me…

"NOOOOOOO!"

I was on my knees again, my face buried in my hands.

"Get up!" said Snape sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"

I stood up again, my heart thumping wildly as though I had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as I was.

"I - am - making - an - effort," I said through clenched teeth.

"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!"

"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment," I snarled.

"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" said Snape savagely. "Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily - weak people, in other words - they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"

"I am not weak," I said in a low voice, fury now pumping through me so that I thought I might attack Snape in a moment.

"Then prove it! Master yourself!" spat Snape. "Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!"

I was watching Uncle Vernon hammering the letterbox shut, laughing madly…

I was flying around the Quidditch stadium, trying to find the Snitch through all the rain and fog, when an eerie silence fell across the stadium. Then a wave of cold swept over me, inside me. I looked down, and saw at least a hundred Dementors. And then I heard it again… Someone was screaming, screaming inside my head… a woman…

"Not Alyssa, not Alyssa, please not Alyssa!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…"

"Not Alyssa, please no, take me, kill me instead…please… have mercy… have mercy…"

Suddenly, I was back in Snape's office. Snape was staring at me, his face pale. It looked as though, this time, Snape had lifted the spell before I had even tried to fight back.

"I want you back here same time on Wednesday," said Snape quietly. "We will continue work then."

"Okay," I said. I was desperate to get out of Snape's office.

"You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep; empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?"

"Yes," I said.

"And be warned, Potter… I shall know if you have not practiced."

"Right," I mumbled.

I picked up my schoolbag, swung it over my shoulder and hurried towards the office door. As I opened it, I glanced back at Snape, who had his back to me and was scooping his own thoughts out of the Pensieve with the tip of his wand and replacing them carefully inside his own head. I left without another word, closing the door carefully behind me.

* * *

"How was your Occlumency lesson?" Hermione asked when I joined her and Ron in the Gryffindor common room.

"Horrible," I said. "Snape made me relive the worst memories." I still couldn't shake of the image of Cedric lying dead on the ground or my mother's last words. I also remembered how pale Snape's face was after he had heard Voldemort murdering my mom…

"I have some news that'll cheer you up," said Ron, breaking my train of thought. "Apparition lessons start next week!"

"Nice!" I said. "How'd you find that out?"

"It's on the bulletin board," said Ron. "But I don't turn sixteen until May. Hermione's already sixteen. She's so lucky."

"You're birthday is at least sooner than mine," I said. "I don't come of age until the end of July."

"True," said Ron.

* * *

Later that night, as I was trying to fall asleep, I thought back to the memories I had revisited in Snape's office. I hated hearing my mother's last words, yet I couldn't help yearning to hear her voice. I reached under my bed and pulled out the photo album that Hagrid had given me my first year. I took my wand off of my bedside table and whispered, "Lumos."

I flipped through the pages, looking at the smiling images of my mother and father. Everyone told me that I looked just like my mom, and they were right. I had the same exact green eyes as her, and the rest my face was pretty similar to hers; mine was just a little more angular. My black hair was the only thing that I had in common with my dad's appearance, but it was from him that I had received my talent on the Quidditch field.

"Nox," I whispered, and the light from my wand went out. I slipped the book back under my bed and went to sleep.