Just to alleviate any confusion for those following the story, yes, this used to be chapter five. The two have been switched to make for a smoother story timeline. Hopefully it's not so confusing now!
Harry had been correct: when he woke the morning after his last Occlumency lesson he had never been so embarrassed in his life, not even when Aunt Petunia sent him to school in a hideous Pepto-Bismal-pink shirt. He had cried like a baby in Snape's office! And then he had actually blabbed about being locked in his cupboard! As Harry brushed his teeth he glared at himself in the mirror. Why did those memories have to come up? And why did Snape have to be so curious anyway? What was he thinking, of course Snape would be curious! Harry could recall when he went to school and discovered from talking to other kids that keeping family members in broom closets wasn't exactly the norm. That was when Harry truly started to realize that something was very wrong. So of course Snape would think it was weird.
Harry spat out a mouthful of toothpaste and snorted. This whole situation was weird! Snape suddenly had access to Harry's whole life story in the most intimate way possible. And if that wasn't enough Harry was just spilling his guts whenever Snape asked. That wasn't really anybody's fault though. Harry had been so relieved that they weren't fighting during the first lesson that he had told Snape whatever he wanted to know to keep him happy. And then the second lesson Harry had been, well, a bit stoned. That Calming Draught stuff was strong.
Harry stomped back to his trunk and began yanking on clothes. This was all so stupid! Why was he studying Occlumency anyway! He would never be good at it. And why did Snape have to suddenly act like he was interested? Snape was never interested in anybody! Hell, even Dumbledore couldn't bother pretending to be interested in Harry this year! Well, that was just fine! It was Harry's dream for people to butt out. Sure, maybe back at the Dursley's he'd been alone, but at least he'd been left alone. Then when he was eleven he was suddenly thrust into this world of crazy nuts who couldn't mind their own damn business!
On top of that his scar was tingling. It had started as Harry was walking back to Gryffindor Tower after his lesson with Snape. He had suddenly felt a burning sensation in his scar and a lurch in his insides. But the Calming Draught was still at full strength and so all Harry could muster was a feeling of vague concern that soon faded away. In the light of morning, however, that concern returned tenfold. Why had he felt so…happy? What was going on? Harry slammed his trunk shut, forgetting that he had roommates until he heard an indignant, "Oy!" from Ron.
Harry looked up to see Ron sitting up in bed, bleary-eyed and blinking like an owl in sunlight. "Could you keep it down?"
"Sorry," Harry mumbled. He thought about telling Ron that he needed to get up anyway if he didn't want to be late for class but decided not to bother. He made his way down the stairs and flopped onto the nearest couch.
"Well, young Harry, you look mad enough to spit!" said a voice above his head. Harry looked up to see Fred and George sporting identical flaming red heads of hair and identical grins.
"Hi, guys," he mumbled, dropping his gaze back to the floor.
"Amazing how he lights up a room, isn't it, Gred?"
"Oh yes, Forge. Always so bubbly, perky, bright as a sunny day. I think I'll name my first wife after him."
"Could you two leave me alone, please?"
Instead they both took a seat on either side of him.
"So," George began, "how are you?"
"I'm fine." Fred and George stared at him. After a minute of this Harry said, "Okay, I'm closer to lousy than fine, but I don't want to talk about it!"
"Well, that's always a winning strategy," Fred said. "Get in a bad mood and go off on your own to wallow in it rather than talking to people who could actually help. Genius! That's Percy's favorite way to handle everything, too."
Harry growled. "You have no idea what I'm dealing with, so just leave me alone."
"You're right, we have no idea!" George snapped right back. "And you know what, no one's going to have an idea unless you talk! And besides, you should know by now that we never leave anybody alone."
Harry was rather taken aback by his uncharacteristic seriousness and didn't know how to respond. Finally he said, "I appreciate the effort, but it's complicated."
"It is, huh?" George said, looking delighted that he seemed to have made an impact. "Well, lucky for you, dear financeer, we come from a family of nine in a five-bedroom house. We specialize in complicated."
"So," Fred continued. "Anything that we as good friends…"
"Wise elders…" George supplied.
"Mentors…"
"Advisors…"
"Accomplices…"
"Can help you with?" they finished together.
Harry, who had been glancing between the two of them throughout this speech, needed a moment to get his bearings. "Uh…I guess it's my extra lessons with Snape."
"You guess?"
"Okay, it's definitely that," Harry conceded.
"We thought things between you and the Dungeon Reaper were actually going well," George commented.
Harry stared at him. "How did you…"
"Ron blabbed."
Of course, Harry thought wryly. "Um, they were. It's just…a lot of personal stuff comes up during our lessons and he's been asking me about it."
"Well, I can't imagine why you'd find that uncomfortable," George said sarcastically.
"He better not be being a git about it, or I'll slip a Laryngollie into his breakfast," Fred said darkly.
"A what?"
"Never mind. So, has he been?"
"Not really. He's just been…quiet."
"Well, that's weird. Usually he ribs you pretty good. Guess you touched a nerve."
"Yeah," Harry muttered. "Yeah, I guess."
"What's been coming up that's got old Snape so out of joint anyway?"
"Umm…" Harry wasn't sure he wanted to discuss this. Fred and George were being great, really they were, but spilling his secrets to yet more people seemed a bit too much. "I don't know if I'm up for going there right now."
In his peripheral vision he watched Fred, who looked like he wanted to say something but was still figuring out the words, and George, who studied him a moment and then mimicked him by turning to look at the fireplace. Appreciating their silence, Harry ventured to say this much: "I'm just not sure I'm up for learning Occlumency. How is going through old memories supposed to help me clear my mind?"
"Occlu-what?" George asked.
"Occ-lu-men-cy. Apparently it's about learning to protect yourself from mind-reading." Harry didn't care what Snape said; he still thought mind-reading was the easiest description.
"Look, Harry," Fred said bracingly. "I don't know anything about 'clearing the mind.' Sounds right boring, in my opinion. I prefer organized chaos, myself. And having Snape poke around in your head's got to be as pleasant as stinging nettle underpants. But as long as he's being decent about it, it can't hurt to try."
Harry wondered if he should ask, but couldn't resist. "Stinging…nettle…underpants?"
"Eh, the less you know about that the better." Fred had the decency to look sheepish. "But anyway, the point is you never know when things could come in handy. Take it from us, the more stuff you've got up your sleeve, the better."
"I suppose so."
"And," George added, "if he gets nasty you just let us know and we'll give him what-for. We've got shampoo and we're not afraid to use it."
Harry grinned in spite of himself. Then he suddenly remembered something. "You know, Snape warned me about you two."
"What? What did he say?" Fred demanded, bristling.
"He said that when I practice I'll need silence, meaning that I'll need to be far away from the two of you."
"Wait a minute," George said slowly. "Was that supposed to be…I mean, w-was Snape…"
"I don't believe it," Fred said, looking shell-shocked. "Harry…I think Snape…"
"Actually joked?" Harry said, grinning. "I know, I couldn't believe it either."
"Harry!" George suddenly slumped against him. "Harry, take me to Madame Pomfrey! I mean it! I'm having a stroke! I'm dying!"
"Blimey, Harry!" Fred exclaimed. "What do you do to him in those lessons?"
"Oh, get off!" Harry said, playfully shoving George away. "And get a grip! So the sun will rise in the west tomorrow, pigs will be zooming all over the place, and people in Hell will need parkas. I thought you two would appreciate that kind of thing."
"Harry, there's organized chaos and then there's utter destruction of the known universe. You're this close to the second one." Fred held up his thumb and forefinger.
"I'm sure you'll cope."
"Hey, Harry!" Ron had finally made his appearance. "Are you coming?"
"Yep, I'll be right there." He turned back to Fred and George. "Thanks, guys."
Fred slapped him on the back. "Hey, what are big brothers for?"
"Big brothers?" Harry repeated.
"Sure! We've got to lord it over someone besides Ron."
Harry smiled. "I guess. See ya later."
Harry clambered out of the portrait hole and together he and Ron made their way to the Great Hall. Spotting Hermione, who had undoubtedly already been up for half an hour, sitting near the doors with a book propped against a milk jug, they immediately joined her. Fred and George wandered down about fifteen minutes later, both nodding to Harry as they went past. And, as Harry added butter and jam to his toast, it occurred to him that perhaps crazy nuts that don't mind their own business aren't so bad.
Please R&R!