Disclaimer:
I don't own anything apart from the plot. JK Rowling owns the characters;
except for those I have created. I don't make any profit from this and I
really don't own anything that belongs to JK Rowling.
Warning: This story contains slashy elements. If that offends you I suggest you leave. If you don't know what that means, I suggest you find out and come back when you have if it is something that appeals to you.
Disappearing
-Chapter two, Tearing down walls-
Harry followed Snape through the dungeons once more. This time they were going to the classroom where the occlumency lessons were to be held. He had never been in this part of the dungeons before either. He had never imagined they were so big, there seemed to be no end to them and he wondered how on earth (or below it) he was going to find his way back after the lesson and even worse, find the classroom again for the next one. Suddenly Snape stopped in front of a murky wooden door. He took out a key from a fold in his robe and unlocked it. Apparently it wasn't magically sealed like most of the doors in the castle were. Maybe it didn't need magical locks, surely not many people would find and open it anyway. Snape went through the door and Harry followed him.
A smell of old hit Harry when he stepped into the room. It smelled like he imagined a damp cave would smell, with some hints of mouldy wood and long ago forgotten books and parchments consumed by moist. There were almost no furniture in the room apart from an old desk and a few chairs. There were magically lit torches on the walls and the floor seemed to have been swept recently even though there were still lots of dust in the corners. A few books lay open on the desk and next to them stood a pensieve. Harry guessed it was the very same pensieve he had looked in to in his fifth year and seen his professor's worst memory. It had been a very disturbing experience, none the less when Snape had caught him in the act of doing so, but the memory itself had many times run through Harry's mind accompanied by curiosity and a sense of disappointment. The whole image he had had of his father had been razed that evening and his understanding and sympathy for Snape had grown. He hadn't thought his father had gained popularity by humiliating others and it hurt him to see something like that. Yet he found himself wanting to see more, not necessarily of his father, but of the young Snape. He wanted to see why he had become who he was. He found himself longing to look into the pensieve again to see if there would be more to see. Then Snape spoke.
"This will be the classroom in which your schooling in occlumency will take place. I hope you paid attention on the way here because you will have to find your way here by yourself the next time. I do not have time to be your guide." Snape said.
"Yes, sir." Harry tried not to let his irritation shine through. He clenched his teeth and waited for the Professor to continue.
"I hope you have had the brains to at least remember some of the things you learned the last time lessons such as these were given to you. It will make things easier for both you and me, meaning that we can move on to the practical part faster." Snape showed no emotions that Harry could read, he just seemed very methodical. "Can you explain to me briefly what occlumency is?"
"Yes sir. Occlumency is the defensive counter towards legilimency, it's Latin for conceal mind. A person who is skilled in occlumency is called an Occlumens. " Harry hoped that was enough of an answer because he wasn't sure if he could give a very elaborate explanation right now, not without having read up on the subject.
"So, you're not a complete imbecile. Now, try to clear your mind of all emotion." Snape's eyes on his felt like they were digging into his mind already and Harry started getting nervous. He felt at that moment that this would be much harder than he had ever imagined. He tried to rid himself of emotions, but it was so hard. How do you think of noting? Is it possible to not think of anything at all, he wondered. Maybe it would work if he found something that he was indifferent to the he could think about, something that didn't stir up any emotions, but what would that be? Almost everything he could think of was bringing out some or another emotion that he had to fight away. He couldn't think of anything that involved the Dursleys without feeling angry and sad at the same time. The same thing happened when he thought of his friends and Sirius was not even an option. He tried to think of common things that he thought didn't mean anything, but he found that they all did mean something in their own way. They could always be associated with something that provoked stronger emotions out of him. Finally he settled on just trying to be as free of emotion as possible, but with yesterday's events he found that very hard. He gave Snape a curt nod and raised his wand to show him that he was ready. The older wizard threw the spell at him.
"Legilimens." Harry's knees started to buck as he felt the spell pierce through his defences. He fought to stand upright; actually he focused all his power on doing that. He straightened his legs again and looked up at Snape. That was a mistake. If he hadn't looked up he hadn't came into eye contact with the Potions master. Apparently eye contact made it much easier for the aggressor to succeed in his task and Harry knew he had lost it. He had been so close to succeeding. Memories of his childhood flooded him. He saw himself being pushed down the stairs by Dudley and the locked in the cupboard by Uncle Vernon for making too much noise. He saw the dementors come towards his cousin on privet drive and then he saw them again trying to give Sirius the kiss. He felt his knees hit the floor and suddenly the world became clear again. He saw Snape looking down on him and he saw the flickering torches on the walls. He felt dizzy and exhausted, but he felt that it had gone better this time than when he was exposed to the same spell in his fifth year. He stood up and waited for Snape's judgement.
"You lost it." He stated rather coldly. "Why?" Harry had to think and collect himself for a while. He took a breath and answered.
"I think it was when I looked you in the eyes. That makes it easier for you to get into my mind doesn't it?"
"Yes it does, but the last time we did this I didn't even need to look you in the eyes for you to give in. How come you managed to hold out this time? Do you remember what you did to keep your emotions from taking over?" Did Snape seem nicer or was it just him, Harry thought.
"I concentrated on standing upright and when I thought I could do that I looked up and then I lost it. I guess there wasn't room for any emotion, I really had to give it all I had not to fall on my face."
"So your concentration on not falling on you face, as you so elegantly put it, kept your emotions away and me out of you mind, correct?" Maybe it was just him. Harry nodded. He didn't quite see what Snape was getting at.
"Do you think you could figure out what the key word here is, or do I have to point it out to you?" It definitely was just him. He thought for a bit, he hesitated once and then he answered.
"Concentration. If I concentrate on something else hard enough it will push away the emotions." What if he was completely off here? Snape would laugh so hard.
"Even Longbottom could have figured that out, but it's right none the less. The key to becoming a good Occlumens is concentration and complete discipline of oneself." Discipline and concentration, what was he supposed to concentrate on when he didn't have to worry about falling and would he always have to fight so stand up when exposed directly to Legilimens?
"Sir?" Harry said.
"Yes Potter?" Snape sounded very annoyed.
"Will I learn to be more resistant to the spell the more I practice? I mean, I don't want to have to fight to be able to stand straight if it is thrown at me in a situation that isn't for educational purposes."
"Yes you will become more resistant as you learn how to screen your emotions off. It will come automatically in the process. You are vulnerable to Legilimens now because you have no control over what you feel and when you feel it, because you are easily provoked." Was he really that easy to provoke, that easy to read. He probably was. He wasn't used to hiding his feelings and he had always been the honest type. It was only lately that he had hidden something that mattered, his sexuality, from the people around him and he didn't even know if that went any good. But they would have said something if they wondered, wouldn't they? He was becoming worried and insecure only from the things that went on in his head. He had to work on this. He didn't want to be the one responsible for even more deaths. "Do you understand?" Came Snape's voice.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well then, Legilimens." The spell came at Harry with more force this time it seemed, maybe because he wasn't entirely prepared for it. He felt his knees buck again and he tried with all his might to stand straight. He got his knees right after what seemed like an eternity, but then his back couldn't take the pressure and against his will, it bent forward. He struggled to get it straight, but it just kept bending further and further down, why was this happening? What was he doing wrong? He gave it one last go and pushed up with all he had. Slowly his back straightened out and he was standing upright. He remembered not to look at Snape this time, instead he looked at the wall behind him, tracing the cracks in the old rocks. He felt his concentration slipping and he could almost feel the moment his professor got into his mind. He tried to close it and shut him out again, but it just wasn't possible. Soon enough he felt how he fell backwards and landed on the floor, his memories flooding freely between him and Snape.
Dudley was chasing him over the lawn with a big stick, hitting him with it every now and then. He heard Uncle Vernon screaming at him from the kitchen. It was dark so he must be in the cupboard, he hadn't been more than ten years old in that particular memory. He saw himself reading a big book, once again locked in the cupboard with just one tiny candle to light the small room. Then came the more horrible memories. He saw Cedric again, like he always did in his dreams and he felt that awful feeling of horror he always did and he wondered if Snape could feel it too. He saw how Bella Lestragne killed his godfather and he felt the utter despair and disbelief all over again. He felt tears running down his cheeks and now he was furious. He didn't care if it would ruin his resistance towards the spell; he just wanted it to stop. In one last attempt he tried to fire a disarming spell towards Snape. It hit the desk instead and it was shoved against the wall behind it. The things that had been lying on it went in all directions as the desk broke in half. The memories stopped flooding over him and he just lay back on the floor, panting.
"Mister Potter" Snape said, his voice trembling a bit, probably from the intensity of the spell. "You are not to be destroying furniture and you are supposed to be trying to control your feelings." Harry wiped his face clean from tears and rose to his feet again. He didn't bother to answer the professor's reprimands at once.
"Sir," He said instead. "Can you feel what I feel when you see the memories that are coming through?" His voice sounded broken and raspy from having cried, but he didn't care.
"A fraction of it, yes, but not as strong as you are perceiving them." Harry thought Snape's expression had softened a bit; it now looked more thoughtful than usual.
"Then you must know that this is not easy for me. I try the hardest I can and I really want to get it right this time." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to loose anyone else." He said quietly. He wondered if Snape had heard it, but he thought he had.
"Very well, Potter. We shall continue your lessons on Tuesday, I expect you to be her at ten o'clock sharp. I also expect you to practice clearing your mind from any emotion every evening before you go to sleep. Is that clear?" The lesson was over then. It hadn't been that bad and Snape didn't seem to be in an awfully foul mood. Should he dare ask if he could have some books on the subject? He decided to take the chance, what could possibly be wrong with that?
"Yes sir." He hesitated. "Sir?"
"Yes Potter."
"I was wondering if you know of any books that I could read, I mean on occlumency." That sounded stupid, but why did he care about that. It was Snape for Merlin's sake, why was he so nervous around the man?
"Since when did you read anything apart from quidditch magazines Potter?" He should have seen that one coming. He was prepared to walk out the door when Snape continued. He had somehow managed to get a piece of paper from somewhere and was now writing on it with a feathered quill. "Give this to Madam Pince in the library and she will get the appropriate books for you." Harry took the paper from Snape's hand and looked at the title written there. Some of them sounded interesting, while others made him want to fall asleep right on the spot. He was surprised there were so many of them, but at least he had gotten what he asked for. There was a small note for the librarian at the top of the note, telling her that Harry had Snape's permission to get these books from the restricted section, but only those books. The professor's rather elegant signature was written at the bottom of the page.
"Thank you sir." Harry said. "I'll be going then." He turned and walked towards the door. He wasn't sure he'd be finding his way back to his room on the first try, but he didn't want to bother the professor further in risk of annoying him. He was about to open it and step out into the corridor when he felt Snape's hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked at him questioningly.
"You'd better follow me back, the headmaster wouldn't be happy with me if he lost his golden boy." He said sarcastically. Harry shuddered, it was almost as if he could read his thoughts. "I noticed you didn't pay much attention on the way here, much like always." But the again, the man was a spy and probably very good at noticing little things like that. Silently Harry tailed Snape as the older man started to walk down the corridors back to the more commonly known parts of the dungeons.
Harry took a quick detour to his rooms before he went to the Great Hall for dinner. The food smelled delicious and he realized as soon as he started eating that he was starving. Although he didn't fail to notice that Snape wasn't there. It was often that the potions master wasn't eating with the rest of the staff. Did he eat in his own quarters or maybe he didn't eat at all. Maybe Ron's theories about him being a vampire were true after all. No, they couldn't be, he wasn't allergic to daylight and Harry had seen him eating a couple of times, not just very often. He finished his meal and went to the library to get those books, or at least some of them.
Snape was back in his quarters, eating his dinner there like he usually did nowadays, he didn't like eating in public for some reason. The food was delicious as always, he had to give that to the house elves. He didn't manage to eat more than half of what was on his plate though, something was bothering him, something about the Potter boy. Had he suddenly gone and got himself some manners? He actually seemed determined to succeed and he had even asked for reading material. Maybe the boy had begun to see things more clearly lately.
And then there was the matter of Potter's memories. It was awful what the boy had been through and it was only natural that strong feelings accompanied the memories the way they did, especially the ones that featured Diggory and his godfather. He was however surprised by the amount of negative feelings that had come through to him when he had been shown the memories from the boy's childhood. He knew the Dursleys hadn't been the best of foster parents, but the feelings of resentment and fear that came through with those memories implicated that the situation had been much worse than anyone had thought. Should he talk to the headmaster about this, or should he wait till he knew more about the situation. De decided to do the latter, it wouldn't be hard to find out what he wanted to know now that he knew what to look for if he managed to penetrate his mind. On the next occlumency lesson he would try to find out if there was anything to worry about. It might not be the most honest and moral way to do it, but after twenty ears of teaching and over ten years of being head of Slytherin he knew that talking to the boy probably wouldn't get him anywhere, especially since the boy resented him. And with that decided he went to his private potions lab to finish an order of healing potions for the infirmary.
Later that evening he was grading some fifth year's essays in front of the fireplace, waiting for a fire call from his supplier of potions ingredients. The Ravenclaws weren't half bad, but the Hufflepuffs were hopeless, he'd probably have to fail at least half of them this year. He felt how his head grew heavier and heavier as the minutes ticked by and soon it was hard to even keep his eyes open. He slowly drifted off to sleep and, at least at first, a very comfortable darkness. That didn't last for long though, soon he was standing in a familiar room looking at a very familiar boy; this boy wasn't wearing a shirt. He realized it was Potter's room and he realized he was dreaming, yet he could neither move nor speak, he could only watch what was happening and hope it wouldn't take any unexpected turns. As the boy looked up at him with those oh so green eyes he knew that this couldn't end well. He didn't walk out of the room though and he didn't speak, he couldn't. Potter began to walk towards him, still not wearing a shirt, hair still wet and still not saying anything. As he came closer Severus could see the muscles moving under his skin and he realized he was feeling things that he hadn't felt in a long time, things that indeed were very peasant, but they were also things he would rather die than feel near this damned boy. His body temperature was rising as the boy came closer and when he stood so close their noses were just a few centimetres apart he felt like he was boiling. Why did this happen? Why did he dream this? Had he gone completely mad, the boy was just a boy and it was Potter for Merlin's sake! For a long while no one moved, Snape wanted to but it was like someone had put a binding spell on him. He could feel something needy and burning grow inside him and he knew exactly what it was. He was getting aroused and if it continued at this rate the dream- Potter would soon feel it digging into his hip. He tried to fight it with all his might but nothing worked. The boy moved closer and now their bodies touched. He knew the boy was going to kiss him, he knew it. He could feel it and even though his body wanted it he rejected the thought with all his soul. He tried not to look into the green eyes before him, but since he couldn't move he could neither close his eyes nor look away. He felt warm breath on his lips, it tasted like summer and warm honey and he thought he would go mad. Why was he dreaming this?
A voice mercifully woke him up and he looked around a bit confused. He was breaking out in a clod sweat and he could feel he was still aroused from the dream. It was his supplier that had called. He excused himself for being asleep and the supplier told him that the order he had sent him a few days ago had come in. He was wondering whether Snape would come to the store to get the supplies or if he would like them sent to Hogwarts. Snape told him he wanted them sent as soon as possible.
He was still rather groggy after the nap and the dream when he went to bed, but he didn't fall asleep for over an hour in fear of that the dream would return. He had been aroused by looking at Potter. Why? It was madness. Finally he fell asleep anyway and he didn't dream anything else, but the dream still bothered him in the morning when he awoke. He had a feeling Tuesday's occlumency lesson would be a long one, or at least a very painful one, not as painful as the dream though, but how was he supposed to be able to look at Potter now without remembering that twisted dream. It didn't even happen anything in it, nothing to talk about, one couldn't even call it a wet dream. Was it because it was Potter? Well, of course it was, he was a student and teachers weren't supposed to dream about their students, not like that and the boy was an insolent brat, he was the son of James Potter and he was most definitely straight as a broom handle.
The days until Tuesday passed fairly quickly for both Harry and Severus and when the time had come for the lesson Harry was already waiting for his teacher in the classroom. He had bought along two of the books he had borrowed from the library and was sitting on the floor leaning against the back wall of the classroom when Snape entered. He looked up and put the book he was reading away. He rose to his feet and brushed off his muggle pants with his hands.
"Hello Professor." He said. "The door was unlocked when I got here, I hope it's okay that I waited inside." The potions master only grumbled a bit and started to conjure a new desk from the old pieces of wood that remained of the old one. He put some papers on it and turned to Harry.
"Shall we begin?" was all he said. Harry nodded, drew his wand and prepared to get hit by Legilimens. He had gotten a bit better at clearing his mind of thoughts since the last lesson; at least that's what he thought. The books had helped a lot and he wasn't as emotional this time as the last. All in all he felt pretty calm and only al little bit nervous.
"Legilimens!" Snape shouted and she spell was thrown right at Harry. It was indeed harder to get into the boy's mind this time. He had actually practiced and even if he didn't admit it both to himself and certainly not to Harry, Snape was a bit impressed. The boy was a fast learner if he really wanted to. He pushed a bit more and felt that he was going to break through the mind barrier Potter had put up any minute now. Some memories started slipping through, but they were of no importance. They were normal memories of Potter and his annoying friends doing things friends do in normal memories. He pushed even harder and started to specify what memories he wanted to see a bit more. He felt a new barrier shoot up as he did this and again he saw happy memories, not that that was a bad thing, it was just a bit sickening to see a happy Potter doing happy things in the inside of his head. He didn't want him in his head any more than necessary. He thought of the dream he had had a few nights ago and for a second he lost concentration. He could feel how Potter pushed him further and further away and then he lost it completely. He had given the boy enough peace in mind to be able to throw a simple spell and the spell he had thrown was a shield spell, just as he had done in his fifth year. Snape could feel how the boy entered his mind and memories. He only let him see one tiny bit of them before he managed to throw him out.
When the room came into place again they both lay on the floor looking quite exhausted. They slowly got to their feet and Snape commented on Harry's progress, it was only a word or two, but it meant quite a bit to Harry. It meant that the practice he had done actually worked and that he was making progress. He figured that those few words were all he was ever going to hear from Snape in terms of commendation, but they were there and that was good.
It had felt different when Snape had tried to enter his mind this time. It had been with more determination than before. Harry hadn't felt the memories of Sirius or Cedric surfacing once, but the memories of the Dursleys had come much closer to showing, especially the bad ones. He had tried with all his might to keep them away, he had thought about things he liked, good experiences and such and then for a moment it had felt like the pressure was released. He had taken his chance then and fired the same shielding spell he had in fifth year and for a few moments he was inside Snape's mind. It was a gloomy experience; everything about Snape seemed to be. He saw one or two childhood memories from what must have been the teacher's family home and then some vague pictures of faces he didn't recognize.
Then he was on the floor again and so was Snape. He stood up again a bit confused, he hadn't even noticed falling this time.
"It felt different this time." He said after Snape's comment on his progress.
"How so?" Had he noticed he was looking for something, Snape wondered. Could he really determine that with such an untrained mind?
"Well, first of all, it wasn't the same memories as usual that came to surface and second, the spell felt like it was more determined." The boy was on to something. Would he tell him? No, it was best to deny it, he couldn't say anything. That might blow everything, but then again, what was he going to say if the boy figured it out later, tell him that he was testing him?
"Well, the higher determination in the spell was because it was getting more resistance this time" that wasn't entirely untrue "and about the memories I can't tell you very much. It is an erratic spell, unless it is told what to look for it digs at random only guided by the subconscious of the thrower." He lied, but the again, that wasn't entirely untrue either. He would probably get away with it.
"So what you are saying is that it's your subconscious that tells the spell what to look for if it doesn't get any specific guidelines." Harry was getting a bit worried. Snape's eyes seemed to be seeing right through his mind, they were piercing yet deep and very unreadable. "Sir." He added.
"Be afraid Potter, be very afraid." Snape said smirking and then he once again threw the spell at Harry who wasn't at all as prepared this time as he had been the last.
He could feel the spell piercing his mind right from the start, but he fought it for all he was worth. What Snape had told him about the subconscious of the thrower somewhat guiding the spell scared him. He didn't know how serious Snape had been about it either. He had sounded awfully sarcastic, but surely there must have been some truth behind it. So he fought, but it was a loosing battle. He could feel the spell digging in to his mind leaving the same feeling of being a bit more determined than usual this time too, only now it was having more success in breaking down Harry's defences. He could feel the memories, the more horrible ones, about the Dursleys starting to surface and he knew that if he didn't stop the spell he would relive them all again. He didn't want that, so he fought, but the spell had gone too far already. The memories flooded him and he could feel the tears burning in his eyes. He could almost feel the pain all over again when he relived the first time his uncle had beaten him up and he could feel the guilt as strong as ever when he was forced to agree with some of the crude and dehumanising things Dudley said about gays almost daily.
Again he tried to fight the spell off, but failed. The memories that surfaced became more and more personal, but he didn't know how to stop it. He was ready to go down on his knees and beg Snape to stop when it happened. Te memory he had tried hardest to conceal began to replay himself in his head and he knew Snape could see it too.
He saw himself walking beside an ash blonde boy, quite tall with blue eyes and black leather pants. He felt that joyous feeling of being in love as they slowly walked towards the playground. They didn't talk but every once in a while they stole a glance at each other and smiled. Halfway to the swings from the road the blonde boy took Harry's hand in his and laced their fingers together. He was so happy and in peace with himself that this was happening, it practically radiated off him and he didn't even see Dudley lurking behind one of the big trees on the other side of the playground.
Once they got to the swings they faced each other and just stood like that for a long while. The blonde boy, whose name was David brushed a few strands of hair off Harry's forehead.
"That's one weird scar you have there." He said.
"Yeah." Harry looked down, he felt insecure talking about those things. David was a muggle that didn't know anything about the wizarding world. David took Harry's face in his hands and bought it up to his. Then he lightly kissed him on the corner of the mouth and then directly on the lips. It was pure joy; it was nothing like the kiss he had shared with Cho. It was soft and warm and not very wet at all, just very nice.
"I'm so glad I met you." He said when the kiss ended. They kissed again and then they parted. Harry began to walk home to the Dursleys and David went in the opposite direction, towards the nearby buss station. What Harry hadn't noticed was that Dudley had managed to get home before him.
When he opened the door to the house the whole family was lined up in the hallway. After that came the worst screaming match Harry had ever experienced in his life. He had never been so humiliated in his life and it had been the first time in years that he had cried in front of the Dursleys. It had only been tears of anger, but they earned him comments like:
"Ooo, the poor little fairy is crying, hasn't he gotten enough fist today?"
"Crying like a baby. Well if you're looking for someone to come and save you, don't expect any help from your fag friends, they're all just one big sign of weakness!"
And on it went, on and on till Harry couldn't take it anymore and tried to run to his room, only to be stopped in front of the stairs by Dudley punching him right on the nose. The beating went on from there till Harry had no memory left of it. He cried because he was angry with the Dursleys all over again and he cried because he was furious with Snape for looking at those memories even though he must have known they were private. He must have known.
He found himself on the floor again, the memories had stopped coming, but he was still sobbing like a child. He looked up at Snape and the man looked quite torn up himself. His breathing was heavy and he looked very exhausted and upset. Harry didn't care if he was as upset as he himself was, he had still gone too far, way too far.
"Are you happy now?!" He yelled. "Do you think we're even now, now that you've seen my worst memory?!" He got no reply so he continued. "Why did you continue? You must have known that you were barging in on private property! Why didn't you stop? Was it because you wanted revenge? Well, then you got it now; you've certainly got it now." He trailed off and waited for a reply. None came. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door, not caring that he forgot the books or to ask when the next lesson was. He wasn't sure he wanted another lesson, not now with Snape knowing he was gay. The man would probably hate him even more for it and the humiliation would be devastating. He wouldn't be able to take it. It would break him. The tears were still running when he got to Samuel's portrait and his rooms. The portrait wondered what had happened, he really looked concerned, but Harry was in no mood to talk. He just wanted to go drown himself or something so he just said the password and demanded to be let in.
It was horrible, all the things those memories had made him feel, some things new, some things all over again. He humiliation was worst. He knew he had nothing to be ashamed about, David had told him so many times even though they had only been together for a short time. The Dursleys wouldn't let him see anyone after they had found out that he was freakish in more than one way. They wouldn't let him out of the house and if they did they would watch him all the time so he didn't "try" anything, whether it was magic or one of his other abnormal activities, as they put it. Dudley had frequently accused him of "checking him out" even though that was the last thing Harry would do. That always earned him some kind of punishment and it made Dudley's eyes shine in the creepiest of ways.
Harry lay down on his bed, he didn't even bother to take off his shoes and soon he fell asleep. He had been exhausted, but he didn't get any rest because nightmares woke him up every ten minutes or so. He decided to get up and do something useful instead so he went out to the living room where he lit a fire in the fireplace and started looking through one of the books on occlumency he hadn't read yet. He still wanted to continue his learning the subject, but he wasn't sure of how to deal with Snape yet. The reading got him bored and restless rather quickly though. He had too much on his mind to be able to concentrate.
He decided that he needed to talk to someone about this and who better would it be to talk to than Samuel. At least he could think of no one else that wouldn't be judgemental towards him. He went out in the corridor and told Samuel he was sorry for being rude to him earlier. Then he told him the whole story about the occlumency lessons from the start to the present minute. He didn't say why he took the lessons and Sam, as Harry had taken to calling him, didn't ask.
I want to give a huge hug to everyone that have reviewed this. I really appreciate it. Keep it up and I'll be even more grateful. =)
Goldenpaw
Thirteen Ravens
crazy-lil-nae-nae
Lishel Fracrium
Lady phoenix Slytherin
Lee Lee Potter
Mikee
Npeternko
Azreial9621
Idiotmuse
Warning: This story contains slashy elements. If that offends you I suggest you leave. If you don't know what that means, I suggest you find out and come back when you have if it is something that appeals to you.
Disappearing
-Chapter two, Tearing down walls-
Harry followed Snape through the dungeons once more. This time they were going to the classroom where the occlumency lessons were to be held. He had never been in this part of the dungeons before either. He had never imagined they were so big, there seemed to be no end to them and he wondered how on earth (or below it) he was going to find his way back after the lesson and even worse, find the classroom again for the next one. Suddenly Snape stopped in front of a murky wooden door. He took out a key from a fold in his robe and unlocked it. Apparently it wasn't magically sealed like most of the doors in the castle were. Maybe it didn't need magical locks, surely not many people would find and open it anyway. Snape went through the door and Harry followed him.
A smell of old hit Harry when he stepped into the room. It smelled like he imagined a damp cave would smell, with some hints of mouldy wood and long ago forgotten books and parchments consumed by moist. There were almost no furniture in the room apart from an old desk and a few chairs. There were magically lit torches on the walls and the floor seemed to have been swept recently even though there were still lots of dust in the corners. A few books lay open on the desk and next to them stood a pensieve. Harry guessed it was the very same pensieve he had looked in to in his fifth year and seen his professor's worst memory. It had been a very disturbing experience, none the less when Snape had caught him in the act of doing so, but the memory itself had many times run through Harry's mind accompanied by curiosity and a sense of disappointment. The whole image he had had of his father had been razed that evening and his understanding and sympathy for Snape had grown. He hadn't thought his father had gained popularity by humiliating others and it hurt him to see something like that. Yet he found himself wanting to see more, not necessarily of his father, but of the young Snape. He wanted to see why he had become who he was. He found himself longing to look into the pensieve again to see if there would be more to see. Then Snape spoke.
"This will be the classroom in which your schooling in occlumency will take place. I hope you paid attention on the way here because you will have to find your way here by yourself the next time. I do not have time to be your guide." Snape said.
"Yes, sir." Harry tried not to let his irritation shine through. He clenched his teeth and waited for the Professor to continue.
"I hope you have had the brains to at least remember some of the things you learned the last time lessons such as these were given to you. It will make things easier for both you and me, meaning that we can move on to the practical part faster." Snape showed no emotions that Harry could read, he just seemed very methodical. "Can you explain to me briefly what occlumency is?"
"Yes sir. Occlumency is the defensive counter towards legilimency, it's Latin for conceal mind. A person who is skilled in occlumency is called an Occlumens. " Harry hoped that was enough of an answer because he wasn't sure if he could give a very elaborate explanation right now, not without having read up on the subject.
"So, you're not a complete imbecile. Now, try to clear your mind of all emotion." Snape's eyes on his felt like they were digging into his mind already and Harry started getting nervous. He felt at that moment that this would be much harder than he had ever imagined. He tried to rid himself of emotions, but it was so hard. How do you think of noting? Is it possible to not think of anything at all, he wondered. Maybe it would work if he found something that he was indifferent to the he could think about, something that didn't stir up any emotions, but what would that be? Almost everything he could think of was bringing out some or another emotion that he had to fight away. He couldn't think of anything that involved the Dursleys without feeling angry and sad at the same time. The same thing happened when he thought of his friends and Sirius was not even an option. He tried to think of common things that he thought didn't mean anything, but he found that they all did mean something in their own way. They could always be associated with something that provoked stronger emotions out of him. Finally he settled on just trying to be as free of emotion as possible, but with yesterday's events he found that very hard. He gave Snape a curt nod and raised his wand to show him that he was ready. The older wizard threw the spell at him.
"Legilimens." Harry's knees started to buck as he felt the spell pierce through his defences. He fought to stand upright; actually he focused all his power on doing that. He straightened his legs again and looked up at Snape. That was a mistake. If he hadn't looked up he hadn't came into eye contact with the Potions master. Apparently eye contact made it much easier for the aggressor to succeed in his task and Harry knew he had lost it. He had been so close to succeeding. Memories of his childhood flooded him. He saw himself being pushed down the stairs by Dudley and the locked in the cupboard by Uncle Vernon for making too much noise. He saw the dementors come towards his cousin on privet drive and then he saw them again trying to give Sirius the kiss. He felt his knees hit the floor and suddenly the world became clear again. He saw Snape looking down on him and he saw the flickering torches on the walls. He felt dizzy and exhausted, but he felt that it had gone better this time than when he was exposed to the same spell in his fifth year. He stood up and waited for Snape's judgement.
"You lost it." He stated rather coldly. "Why?" Harry had to think and collect himself for a while. He took a breath and answered.
"I think it was when I looked you in the eyes. That makes it easier for you to get into my mind doesn't it?"
"Yes it does, but the last time we did this I didn't even need to look you in the eyes for you to give in. How come you managed to hold out this time? Do you remember what you did to keep your emotions from taking over?" Did Snape seem nicer or was it just him, Harry thought.
"I concentrated on standing upright and when I thought I could do that I looked up and then I lost it. I guess there wasn't room for any emotion, I really had to give it all I had not to fall on my face."
"So your concentration on not falling on you face, as you so elegantly put it, kept your emotions away and me out of you mind, correct?" Maybe it was just him. Harry nodded. He didn't quite see what Snape was getting at.
"Do you think you could figure out what the key word here is, or do I have to point it out to you?" It definitely was just him. He thought for a bit, he hesitated once and then he answered.
"Concentration. If I concentrate on something else hard enough it will push away the emotions." What if he was completely off here? Snape would laugh so hard.
"Even Longbottom could have figured that out, but it's right none the less. The key to becoming a good Occlumens is concentration and complete discipline of oneself." Discipline and concentration, what was he supposed to concentrate on when he didn't have to worry about falling and would he always have to fight so stand up when exposed directly to Legilimens?
"Sir?" Harry said.
"Yes Potter?" Snape sounded very annoyed.
"Will I learn to be more resistant to the spell the more I practice? I mean, I don't want to have to fight to be able to stand straight if it is thrown at me in a situation that isn't for educational purposes."
"Yes you will become more resistant as you learn how to screen your emotions off. It will come automatically in the process. You are vulnerable to Legilimens now because you have no control over what you feel and when you feel it, because you are easily provoked." Was he really that easy to provoke, that easy to read. He probably was. He wasn't used to hiding his feelings and he had always been the honest type. It was only lately that he had hidden something that mattered, his sexuality, from the people around him and he didn't even know if that went any good. But they would have said something if they wondered, wouldn't they? He was becoming worried and insecure only from the things that went on in his head. He had to work on this. He didn't want to be the one responsible for even more deaths. "Do you understand?" Came Snape's voice.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well then, Legilimens." The spell came at Harry with more force this time it seemed, maybe because he wasn't entirely prepared for it. He felt his knees buck again and he tried with all his might to stand straight. He got his knees right after what seemed like an eternity, but then his back couldn't take the pressure and against his will, it bent forward. He struggled to get it straight, but it just kept bending further and further down, why was this happening? What was he doing wrong? He gave it one last go and pushed up with all he had. Slowly his back straightened out and he was standing upright. He remembered not to look at Snape this time, instead he looked at the wall behind him, tracing the cracks in the old rocks. He felt his concentration slipping and he could almost feel the moment his professor got into his mind. He tried to close it and shut him out again, but it just wasn't possible. Soon enough he felt how he fell backwards and landed on the floor, his memories flooding freely between him and Snape.
Dudley was chasing him over the lawn with a big stick, hitting him with it every now and then. He heard Uncle Vernon screaming at him from the kitchen. It was dark so he must be in the cupboard, he hadn't been more than ten years old in that particular memory. He saw himself reading a big book, once again locked in the cupboard with just one tiny candle to light the small room. Then came the more horrible memories. He saw Cedric again, like he always did in his dreams and he felt that awful feeling of horror he always did and he wondered if Snape could feel it too. He saw how Bella Lestragne killed his godfather and he felt the utter despair and disbelief all over again. He felt tears running down his cheeks and now he was furious. He didn't care if it would ruin his resistance towards the spell; he just wanted it to stop. In one last attempt he tried to fire a disarming spell towards Snape. It hit the desk instead and it was shoved against the wall behind it. The things that had been lying on it went in all directions as the desk broke in half. The memories stopped flooding over him and he just lay back on the floor, panting.
"Mister Potter" Snape said, his voice trembling a bit, probably from the intensity of the spell. "You are not to be destroying furniture and you are supposed to be trying to control your feelings." Harry wiped his face clean from tears and rose to his feet again. He didn't bother to answer the professor's reprimands at once.
"Sir," He said instead. "Can you feel what I feel when you see the memories that are coming through?" His voice sounded broken and raspy from having cried, but he didn't care.
"A fraction of it, yes, but not as strong as you are perceiving them." Harry thought Snape's expression had softened a bit; it now looked more thoughtful than usual.
"Then you must know that this is not easy for me. I try the hardest I can and I really want to get it right this time." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to loose anyone else." He said quietly. He wondered if Snape had heard it, but he thought he had.
"Very well, Potter. We shall continue your lessons on Tuesday, I expect you to be her at ten o'clock sharp. I also expect you to practice clearing your mind from any emotion every evening before you go to sleep. Is that clear?" The lesson was over then. It hadn't been that bad and Snape didn't seem to be in an awfully foul mood. Should he dare ask if he could have some books on the subject? He decided to take the chance, what could possibly be wrong with that?
"Yes sir." He hesitated. "Sir?"
"Yes Potter."
"I was wondering if you know of any books that I could read, I mean on occlumency." That sounded stupid, but why did he care about that. It was Snape for Merlin's sake, why was he so nervous around the man?
"Since when did you read anything apart from quidditch magazines Potter?" He should have seen that one coming. He was prepared to walk out the door when Snape continued. He had somehow managed to get a piece of paper from somewhere and was now writing on it with a feathered quill. "Give this to Madam Pince in the library and she will get the appropriate books for you." Harry took the paper from Snape's hand and looked at the title written there. Some of them sounded interesting, while others made him want to fall asleep right on the spot. He was surprised there were so many of them, but at least he had gotten what he asked for. There was a small note for the librarian at the top of the note, telling her that Harry had Snape's permission to get these books from the restricted section, but only those books. The professor's rather elegant signature was written at the bottom of the page.
"Thank you sir." Harry said. "I'll be going then." He turned and walked towards the door. He wasn't sure he'd be finding his way back to his room on the first try, but he didn't want to bother the professor further in risk of annoying him. He was about to open it and step out into the corridor when he felt Snape's hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked at him questioningly.
"You'd better follow me back, the headmaster wouldn't be happy with me if he lost his golden boy." He said sarcastically. Harry shuddered, it was almost as if he could read his thoughts. "I noticed you didn't pay much attention on the way here, much like always." But the again, the man was a spy and probably very good at noticing little things like that. Silently Harry tailed Snape as the older man started to walk down the corridors back to the more commonly known parts of the dungeons.
Harry took a quick detour to his rooms before he went to the Great Hall for dinner. The food smelled delicious and he realized as soon as he started eating that he was starving. Although he didn't fail to notice that Snape wasn't there. It was often that the potions master wasn't eating with the rest of the staff. Did he eat in his own quarters or maybe he didn't eat at all. Maybe Ron's theories about him being a vampire were true after all. No, they couldn't be, he wasn't allergic to daylight and Harry had seen him eating a couple of times, not just very often. He finished his meal and went to the library to get those books, or at least some of them.
Snape was back in his quarters, eating his dinner there like he usually did nowadays, he didn't like eating in public for some reason. The food was delicious as always, he had to give that to the house elves. He didn't manage to eat more than half of what was on his plate though, something was bothering him, something about the Potter boy. Had he suddenly gone and got himself some manners? He actually seemed determined to succeed and he had even asked for reading material. Maybe the boy had begun to see things more clearly lately.
And then there was the matter of Potter's memories. It was awful what the boy had been through and it was only natural that strong feelings accompanied the memories the way they did, especially the ones that featured Diggory and his godfather. He was however surprised by the amount of negative feelings that had come through to him when he had been shown the memories from the boy's childhood. He knew the Dursleys hadn't been the best of foster parents, but the feelings of resentment and fear that came through with those memories implicated that the situation had been much worse than anyone had thought. Should he talk to the headmaster about this, or should he wait till he knew more about the situation. De decided to do the latter, it wouldn't be hard to find out what he wanted to know now that he knew what to look for if he managed to penetrate his mind. On the next occlumency lesson he would try to find out if there was anything to worry about. It might not be the most honest and moral way to do it, but after twenty ears of teaching and over ten years of being head of Slytherin he knew that talking to the boy probably wouldn't get him anywhere, especially since the boy resented him. And with that decided he went to his private potions lab to finish an order of healing potions for the infirmary.
Later that evening he was grading some fifth year's essays in front of the fireplace, waiting for a fire call from his supplier of potions ingredients. The Ravenclaws weren't half bad, but the Hufflepuffs were hopeless, he'd probably have to fail at least half of them this year. He felt how his head grew heavier and heavier as the minutes ticked by and soon it was hard to even keep his eyes open. He slowly drifted off to sleep and, at least at first, a very comfortable darkness. That didn't last for long though, soon he was standing in a familiar room looking at a very familiar boy; this boy wasn't wearing a shirt. He realized it was Potter's room and he realized he was dreaming, yet he could neither move nor speak, he could only watch what was happening and hope it wouldn't take any unexpected turns. As the boy looked up at him with those oh so green eyes he knew that this couldn't end well. He didn't walk out of the room though and he didn't speak, he couldn't. Potter began to walk towards him, still not wearing a shirt, hair still wet and still not saying anything. As he came closer Severus could see the muscles moving under his skin and he realized he was feeling things that he hadn't felt in a long time, things that indeed were very peasant, but they were also things he would rather die than feel near this damned boy. His body temperature was rising as the boy came closer and when he stood so close their noses were just a few centimetres apart he felt like he was boiling. Why did this happen? Why did he dream this? Had he gone completely mad, the boy was just a boy and it was Potter for Merlin's sake! For a long while no one moved, Snape wanted to but it was like someone had put a binding spell on him. He could feel something needy and burning grow inside him and he knew exactly what it was. He was getting aroused and if it continued at this rate the dream- Potter would soon feel it digging into his hip. He tried to fight it with all his might but nothing worked. The boy moved closer and now their bodies touched. He knew the boy was going to kiss him, he knew it. He could feel it and even though his body wanted it he rejected the thought with all his soul. He tried not to look into the green eyes before him, but since he couldn't move he could neither close his eyes nor look away. He felt warm breath on his lips, it tasted like summer and warm honey and he thought he would go mad. Why was he dreaming this?
A voice mercifully woke him up and he looked around a bit confused. He was breaking out in a clod sweat and he could feel he was still aroused from the dream. It was his supplier that had called. He excused himself for being asleep and the supplier told him that the order he had sent him a few days ago had come in. He was wondering whether Snape would come to the store to get the supplies or if he would like them sent to Hogwarts. Snape told him he wanted them sent as soon as possible.
He was still rather groggy after the nap and the dream when he went to bed, but he didn't fall asleep for over an hour in fear of that the dream would return. He had been aroused by looking at Potter. Why? It was madness. Finally he fell asleep anyway and he didn't dream anything else, but the dream still bothered him in the morning when he awoke. He had a feeling Tuesday's occlumency lesson would be a long one, or at least a very painful one, not as painful as the dream though, but how was he supposed to be able to look at Potter now without remembering that twisted dream. It didn't even happen anything in it, nothing to talk about, one couldn't even call it a wet dream. Was it because it was Potter? Well, of course it was, he was a student and teachers weren't supposed to dream about their students, not like that and the boy was an insolent brat, he was the son of James Potter and he was most definitely straight as a broom handle.
The days until Tuesday passed fairly quickly for both Harry and Severus and when the time had come for the lesson Harry was already waiting for his teacher in the classroom. He had bought along two of the books he had borrowed from the library and was sitting on the floor leaning against the back wall of the classroom when Snape entered. He looked up and put the book he was reading away. He rose to his feet and brushed off his muggle pants with his hands.
"Hello Professor." He said. "The door was unlocked when I got here, I hope it's okay that I waited inside." The potions master only grumbled a bit and started to conjure a new desk from the old pieces of wood that remained of the old one. He put some papers on it and turned to Harry.
"Shall we begin?" was all he said. Harry nodded, drew his wand and prepared to get hit by Legilimens. He had gotten a bit better at clearing his mind of thoughts since the last lesson; at least that's what he thought. The books had helped a lot and he wasn't as emotional this time as the last. All in all he felt pretty calm and only al little bit nervous.
"Legilimens!" Snape shouted and she spell was thrown right at Harry. It was indeed harder to get into the boy's mind this time. He had actually practiced and even if he didn't admit it both to himself and certainly not to Harry, Snape was a bit impressed. The boy was a fast learner if he really wanted to. He pushed a bit more and felt that he was going to break through the mind barrier Potter had put up any minute now. Some memories started slipping through, but they were of no importance. They were normal memories of Potter and his annoying friends doing things friends do in normal memories. He pushed even harder and started to specify what memories he wanted to see a bit more. He felt a new barrier shoot up as he did this and again he saw happy memories, not that that was a bad thing, it was just a bit sickening to see a happy Potter doing happy things in the inside of his head. He didn't want him in his head any more than necessary. He thought of the dream he had had a few nights ago and for a second he lost concentration. He could feel how Potter pushed him further and further away and then he lost it completely. He had given the boy enough peace in mind to be able to throw a simple spell and the spell he had thrown was a shield spell, just as he had done in his fifth year. Snape could feel how the boy entered his mind and memories. He only let him see one tiny bit of them before he managed to throw him out.
When the room came into place again they both lay on the floor looking quite exhausted. They slowly got to their feet and Snape commented on Harry's progress, it was only a word or two, but it meant quite a bit to Harry. It meant that the practice he had done actually worked and that he was making progress. He figured that those few words were all he was ever going to hear from Snape in terms of commendation, but they were there and that was good.
It had felt different when Snape had tried to enter his mind this time. It had been with more determination than before. Harry hadn't felt the memories of Sirius or Cedric surfacing once, but the memories of the Dursleys had come much closer to showing, especially the bad ones. He had tried with all his might to keep them away, he had thought about things he liked, good experiences and such and then for a moment it had felt like the pressure was released. He had taken his chance then and fired the same shielding spell he had in fifth year and for a few moments he was inside Snape's mind. It was a gloomy experience; everything about Snape seemed to be. He saw one or two childhood memories from what must have been the teacher's family home and then some vague pictures of faces he didn't recognize.
Then he was on the floor again and so was Snape. He stood up again a bit confused, he hadn't even noticed falling this time.
"It felt different this time." He said after Snape's comment on his progress.
"How so?" Had he noticed he was looking for something, Snape wondered. Could he really determine that with such an untrained mind?
"Well, first of all, it wasn't the same memories as usual that came to surface and second, the spell felt like it was more determined." The boy was on to something. Would he tell him? No, it was best to deny it, he couldn't say anything. That might blow everything, but then again, what was he going to say if the boy figured it out later, tell him that he was testing him?
"Well, the higher determination in the spell was because it was getting more resistance this time" that wasn't entirely untrue "and about the memories I can't tell you very much. It is an erratic spell, unless it is told what to look for it digs at random only guided by the subconscious of the thrower." He lied, but the again, that wasn't entirely untrue either. He would probably get away with it.
"So what you are saying is that it's your subconscious that tells the spell what to look for if it doesn't get any specific guidelines." Harry was getting a bit worried. Snape's eyes seemed to be seeing right through his mind, they were piercing yet deep and very unreadable. "Sir." He added.
"Be afraid Potter, be very afraid." Snape said smirking and then he once again threw the spell at Harry who wasn't at all as prepared this time as he had been the last.
He could feel the spell piercing his mind right from the start, but he fought it for all he was worth. What Snape had told him about the subconscious of the thrower somewhat guiding the spell scared him. He didn't know how serious Snape had been about it either. He had sounded awfully sarcastic, but surely there must have been some truth behind it. So he fought, but it was a loosing battle. He could feel the spell digging in to his mind leaving the same feeling of being a bit more determined than usual this time too, only now it was having more success in breaking down Harry's defences. He could feel the memories, the more horrible ones, about the Dursleys starting to surface and he knew that if he didn't stop the spell he would relive them all again. He didn't want that, so he fought, but the spell had gone too far already. The memories flooded him and he could feel the tears burning in his eyes. He could almost feel the pain all over again when he relived the first time his uncle had beaten him up and he could feel the guilt as strong as ever when he was forced to agree with some of the crude and dehumanising things Dudley said about gays almost daily.
Again he tried to fight the spell off, but failed. The memories that surfaced became more and more personal, but he didn't know how to stop it. He was ready to go down on his knees and beg Snape to stop when it happened. Te memory he had tried hardest to conceal began to replay himself in his head and he knew Snape could see it too.
He saw himself walking beside an ash blonde boy, quite tall with blue eyes and black leather pants. He felt that joyous feeling of being in love as they slowly walked towards the playground. They didn't talk but every once in a while they stole a glance at each other and smiled. Halfway to the swings from the road the blonde boy took Harry's hand in his and laced their fingers together. He was so happy and in peace with himself that this was happening, it practically radiated off him and he didn't even see Dudley lurking behind one of the big trees on the other side of the playground.
Once they got to the swings they faced each other and just stood like that for a long while. The blonde boy, whose name was David brushed a few strands of hair off Harry's forehead.
"That's one weird scar you have there." He said.
"Yeah." Harry looked down, he felt insecure talking about those things. David was a muggle that didn't know anything about the wizarding world. David took Harry's face in his hands and bought it up to his. Then he lightly kissed him on the corner of the mouth and then directly on the lips. It was pure joy; it was nothing like the kiss he had shared with Cho. It was soft and warm and not very wet at all, just very nice.
"I'm so glad I met you." He said when the kiss ended. They kissed again and then they parted. Harry began to walk home to the Dursleys and David went in the opposite direction, towards the nearby buss station. What Harry hadn't noticed was that Dudley had managed to get home before him.
When he opened the door to the house the whole family was lined up in the hallway. After that came the worst screaming match Harry had ever experienced in his life. He had never been so humiliated in his life and it had been the first time in years that he had cried in front of the Dursleys. It had only been tears of anger, but they earned him comments like:
"Ooo, the poor little fairy is crying, hasn't he gotten enough fist today?"
"Crying like a baby. Well if you're looking for someone to come and save you, don't expect any help from your fag friends, they're all just one big sign of weakness!"
And on it went, on and on till Harry couldn't take it anymore and tried to run to his room, only to be stopped in front of the stairs by Dudley punching him right on the nose. The beating went on from there till Harry had no memory left of it. He cried because he was angry with the Dursleys all over again and he cried because he was furious with Snape for looking at those memories even though he must have known they were private. He must have known.
He found himself on the floor again, the memories had stopped coming, but he was still sobbing like a child. He looked up at Snape and the man looked quite torn up himself. His breathing was heavy and he looked very exhausted and upset. Harry didn't care if he was as upset as he himself was, he had still gone too far, way too far.
"Are you happy now?!" He yelled. "Do you think we're even now, now that you've seen my worst memory?!" He got no reply so he continued. "Why did you continue? You must have known that you were barging in on private property! Why didn't you stop? Was it because you wanted revenge? Well, then you got it now; you've certainly got it now." He trailed off and waited for a reply. None came. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door, not caring that he forgot the books or to ask when the next lesson was. He wasn't sure he wanted another lesson, not now with Snape knowing he was gay. The man would probably hate him even more for it and the humiliation would be devastating. He wouldn't be able to take it. It would break him. The tears were still running when he got to Samuel's portrait and his rooms. The portrait wondered what had happened, he really looked concerned, but Harry was in no mood to talk. He just wanted to go drown himself or something so he just said the password and demanded to be let in.
It was horrible, all the things those memories had made him feel, some things new, some things all over again. He humiliation was worst. He knew he had nothing to be ashamed about, David had told him so many times even though they had only been together for a short time. The Dursleys wouldn't let him see anyone after they had found out that he was freakish in more than one way. They wouldn't let him out of the house and if they did they would watch him all the time so he didn't "try" anything, whether it was magic or one of his other abnormal activities, as they put it. Dudley had frequently accused him of "checking him out" even though that was the last thing Harry would do. That always earned him some kind of punishment and it made Dudley's eyes shine in the creepiest of ways.
Harry lay down on his bed, he didn't even bother to take off his shoes and soon he fell asleep. He had been exhausted, but he didn't get any rest because nightmares woke him up every ten minutes or so. He decided to get up and do something useful instead so he went out to the living room where he lit a fire in the fireplace and started looking through one of the books on occlumency he hadn't read yet. He still wanted to continue his learning the subject, but he wasn't sure of how to deal with Snape yet. The reading got him bored and restless rather quickly though. He had too much on his mind to be able to concentrate.
He decided that he needed to talk to someone about this and who better would it be to talk to than Samuel. At least he could think of no one else that wouldn't be judgemental towards him. He went out in the corridor and told Samuel he was sorry for being rude to him earlier. Then he told him the whole story about the occlumency lessons from the start to the present minute. He didn't say why he took the lessons and Sam, as Harry had taken to calling him, didn't ask.
I want to give a huge hug to everyone that have reviewed this. I really appreciate it. Keep it up and I'll be even more grateful. =)
Goldenpaw
Thirteen Ravens
crazy-lil-nae-nae
Lishel Fracrium
Lady phoenix Slytherin
Lee Lee Potter
Mikee
Npeternko
Azreial9621
Idiotmuse