A/N: Hello guys, thanks for the reviews. You guys are the best, keep them coming. One issue that I saw raised several times was Harry's cutting. It's not totally essential to the story, but it is an important plot device that I plan on using in several ways. So it is here to stay. And I don't see it as really out of character for a post OotP Harry. I know that it has been done before, but...oh well, lol. Enjoy chapter 4!

Warnings for this chapter: This chapter is rated PG-13 for cutting, disturbing images, and mild language. Darkish! Harry.

Disclaimer: I did not invent, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter characters. I am but a humble fanfiction writer.

Chapter 4: Clear Your Mind

The response to the new, legal DA was overwhelming. Harry thought that half the school must have approached either him, Hermione, or Ron about joining. Harry was beginning to wonder if one of the classrooms would hold everyone. They weren't really supposed to use the Room of Requirement for such things, as McGonagall had warned him early in the year. People from all years and all houses had wanted to join the DA, although Hermione had to tell Ron to stop telling the Slytherins that they couldn't join. Now that had been an argument. Ron saying that Slytherins couldn't be trusted if they ever wanted to do something not strictly by the rules again and Hermione saying that it was against the rules to deny just one house access to a student club and that the DA could be closed down if Ron started telling people that. Harry wondered if the popularity of the DA had more to do with the fact that Voldemort was an increasing threat or with the fact that their new DADA professor was universally regarded as a nitwit. Harry wasn't all that sure what Voldemort was doing these days because Hermione, who seemed to have guessed that the stories upset him, went to great lengths to keep the Daily Prophet papers and Harry away from each other.

Harry was also Gryffindor Quiditch captain. He hadn't really wanted it, he had somehow lost interest in Quiditch over the summer, about the time he started cutting, not enough to want to quit, but enough to want to not be captain. But everyone on the team had been of the opinion that Harry would be the only suitable choice and so he had reluctantly accepted. He had a feeling that he wouldn't make a very good captain, he wasn't at all interested in organizing (he left organizing the DA to Hermione), nor did he like bossing people around. For now, he just did whatever his team mates suggested.

In the beginning of the third week of school, after putting it off as long as possible, Harry finally had to go take his first Occlumency lesson. He wondered if Dumbledore had told Snape that Harry had actually requested Snape for a teacher. Harry sincerely hoped that he hadn't. Harry stood outside Snape's office for a long moment before taking a deep breath and stepping inside. This was going to tough, especially after what happened last year.

Harry found Snape sitting at his desk, grading papers, apparently not pleased with what he was seeing. Harry went and stood in front of his desk, waiting.

"Sir?" He said when Snape didn't give any indication that he even knew Harry was there.

"I see you Potter," Snape snapped and went back to grading the paper. He graded the paper agonizingly slowly and when he was finished he finally looked up.

"Must you gape at me like a fish, Potter?"

Harry fought to be respectful. Wouldn't do to start off on the wrong foot. Not that there was a "right" foot with Snape. "I'm here for my Occlumency lesson, sir." Harry said.

"I know that Potter!" Snape snapped at him again. "Once again, fate has decided to curse me with your presence. The headmaster is dead set on you learning Occlumency, and I can certainly see why, although with you it seems to be a lost cause."

"I guess Dumbledore didn't tell him that I requested him. Well, that's one good thing at least."

"Did you at least practice over the summer?"

"What?" Harry snapped out of his thoughts. "Uh, yeah, sure. Well, a little."

Snape looked at him doubtfully.

"Well, no one ever told me to practice over the summer, so I guess I thought that I didn't have too."

"Is that so?" Snape sneered. "And tell me, Mr. Potter, did you think that Voldemort would suddenly disappear? That your link with him would somehow evaporate? One would think that after last year's events in The Department of Mysteries you would have finally grasped the seriousness of the situation, but apparently nothing ever gets to Harry Potter." Snape smiled cruelly.

"How DARE he remind me of Sirius!"

"Are you planning on teaching me today, or just being nasty sir?" Harry growled through gritted teeth.

Snape smirked at him. "Five points from Gryffindor, Potter. Well I suppose that I need to at least try to teach you, but before I do let me just stress one thing," Snape's eyes narrowed as he spoke. "MY personal possessions and memories are MY OWN and I assure you that should you invade my privacy again, you will regret it."

Snape waited a moment as though expecting Harry to respond. When Harry said nothing, he gave a long sigh and finally started the lesson. "Clear your mind Potter," he said in a bored, irritated tone of voice, as though he knew that it would be hopeless.

Harry blinked. He was just going to start with this again? Despite what Snape had said earlier, Harry really did have much more of an interest in learning Occlumency this year, even if he didn't have much interest in taking lessons from Snape. He knew that this was not going to work. Last year, Snape had kept insisting that Harry clear his mind without ever even really telling him how he might go about it.

"Sir?" Harry asked. "That's one thing I don't understand. You keep saying "clear your mind", but I don't know how to do that. Isn't there some kind of technique that you can teach me or something?"

Snape seemed torn between berating Harry and actually answering the respectfully worded question. He opted for a combination of the two. "Well Potter, I would think it would be easy enough for you to clear your mind." Harry just looked at him. Snape sighed. "It is different for different people. There is not any one way of going about it and I am not an expert on meditative methods. I am fairly certain that the way that I clear my mind would not be effective for you, Mr. Potter. I am told that most people simply try to forget all the petty concerns of the day and relax."

"Well that didn't help much. That's what I was doing before."

"Okay," Harry said out loud.

"Good, now clear your mind," Snape repeated. Harry tried to do so. "Legilimens!"

After an exhausting Occlumency lesson, which didn't do any more good than usual, Harry went up to relax and hang out in the Gryffindor common room only to be harassed by Hermione for skipping Defense class.

"Hermione, she said that we didn't have to come, and I only missed one class!" Harry finally huffed in exasperation.

"I know that Harry, but if your going to be heading up a Defense club, don't you think that you ought to be setting a proper example–"

"What am I? The bloody headmaster? Besides, everyone has been missing class."

"Not everyone," Hermione insisted, "I've been to every class. So have a few of the Ravenclaws. And a lot of the boys come quite often–"

"In hopes of seeing up Adele's robes," Harry cut in.

"Harry, I really think you should–"

"ALL RIGHT Hermione! For God's sake, I pity the man who marries you, you're such a nag! It's not like I missed anything anyway." That was certainly true. Adele's lessons had all been either as easy or as useless or both as she had promised on her first day.

"Well aren't you in a mood today–" Hermione started, when a small discreet cough at Harry's side stopped her.

Harry turned around and found himself looking straight into the eyes of Caydon Snape. Beside him stood a small blonde headed girl with large glasses and a huge book in her arms.

"You're Harry Potter?" the boy asked.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." Harry said.

"I'm Caydon Snape, I want to join the DA," he said. "And you should know that according to the Hogwarts Code of Conduct Article II, Section 3, line 14," he took the book and opened it to a certain page as he said this and read: "no student can be denied membership in any student organization, club, or activity for any reason other than age, year, or ability level."

"It's all right there in the Code of Conduct," the girl added indignantly.

"Whoa, whoa," said Harry, "don't get all legal on me kids." Both children glared at him. "Okay maybe I shouldn't have called them kids. I certainly never liked being called a kid."

"What makes you think that I wouldn't let you in. I never said that you couldn't join." Harry added.

Caydon and the girl looked at each other. "Well, I asked your friend, you know, the one with the red hair, if I could join yesterday and he said that you weren't taking first years. Only I know that you are because a couple of the boys in my room are joining."

"Oh crap," Harry thought while Hermione seethed beside him. He could understand Ron's line of reasoning, if they had to do anything not exactly above board again, then it certainly wouldn't do to have Snape's kid knowing about it. But they really couldn't make the DA into their own little exclusive club of friends either, it would just end up getting them in trouble, besides everyone needed to know how to protect themselves from the Dark Arts.

"Uh, yeah. Ron just misunderstood. From now on, if you want to know anything about the DA ask either me or this girl here, her name is Hermione. We're the ones who are really running it anyway." Harry said.

Caydon looked at him suspiciously. "He was signing other people up, he seemed like he was helping organize things."

"Well, uh, yeah, he sort of is. But he's not really in charge."

"And he's a moron," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Okay then," Caydon said brightly, "oh, this is my friend Lydia Deetle, she wants to join too." He gestured to the girl at his side and then abruptly turned around and started to walk away.

"Wait...Snape!" Harry called after him.

Caydon looked at him oddly. "Yes?"

"Your father is okay with you doing this, right?" Harry couldn't imagine Snape being happy with his son joining an organization that was headed and taught by Harry Potter.

"Do other students have to ask their parents permission to join a school club?"

"Um, well no. I just don't want him to be mad at me or something."

Hermione snorted. "Because you usually get along with him so well," she whispered so that Caydon couldn't hear.

For the first time, Caydon gave a small smile. "I talked about it with him. He said that he thought I was capable of choosing what I wanted to do with my spare time." Caydon and Lydia Deetle were both smiling and carefully avoiding each other's eyes. Harry got the impression, from their expressions, that this wasn't all Snape had to say on the matter.

"Well then, see you there." Harry mumbled, unable to think of anything better to say.

"Come on Lydia," Caydon said, walking away. Lydia picked up the large Code of Conduct book and scurried after him.

After they had gone Hermione shook her head. "I am going to kill Ron," she said.

"Hermione, he was just trying to help," Harry said.

"Harry! He already told a bunch of Slytherins that they couldn't join. How long do you think that Snape is going to put up with this before he files an official complaint!" Hermione stormed off to find Ron.

"Well at least she won't be nagging ME."

As it turned out, however, Snape was not the one that they had to worry about opposing the DA. The next day Harry was called into the headmaster's office where, to his surprise, he found a very amused Dumbledore, a very annoyed McGonagall and a very tearful Adele.

"What is this?" Harry asked, bemused.

"Sit down Harry," the headmaster seemed to be holding back laughter. Harry sat down beside Adele. "It seems that Adele here has issued an official complaint against your Defense group."

"What? Why? We haven't really even started yet!"

Dumbledore looked at Adele expectantly, his eyes twinkling like mad. Adele seemed so overcome with tears that she took a moment to respond. "Oh–oh," she cried, "I–I thought that you liked me Harry. I thought that you thought I was a good teacher. And then you go starting this little club behind my back..."

"Wha–What? No, we had the idea to start the DA last year, before Adele even came. You know this, Professor Dumbledore."

"Headmaster, this is ridiculous," Professor McGonagall cut in, "Adele does not even have a legitimate complaint. She is just angry because she thinks that this association is some sort of threat to her teaching ability." As McGonagall said this, Adele wailed loudly at her words.

"Is–is this how you treat all your new teachers?" she asked. "They w–would certainly never allow this kind of thing at Beauxbatons."

Professor McGonagall drew her lips into a thin line. Professor Dumbledore tried to sooth Adele. "Now, now, my dear girl. I'm sure that Harry didn't mean to insult you in any way. Surely we can sort this matter out."

"The Code of Conduct states that any student organization with more than thirty members must have a faculty advisor. I insist on being allowed to advise this group." Harry was surprised that Adele knew the Code of Conduct.

"I will advise them," said Professor McGonagall who apparently did not have a very high opinion of Adele. Adele glared at her.

"Well then, that's all sorted out," said Dumbledore brightly as though they had all just come to some kind of wonderful agreement, completely ignoring the fact that two of his professors were looking as though they wanted to decapitate one another.

"But–" Adele started.

" I think that it would be best to let Professor McGonagall do this Adele," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "After all she is Deputy Headmistress and so should get her pick of–"

"Oh all right" Adele snapped, knowing when she was beaten. She wasn't crying anymore, but merely got up and flounced out of the room.

The headmaster chuckled. "That old nut," Harry thought, "he really enjoyed that."

"Harry," the headmaster said, "don't you have class in a bit?"

He looked as though he knew what Harry had been thinking and was amused by it. Harry wondered if the old man had been using Occlumency on him. He hurriedly got up, nodded to Professor McGonagall and rushed out to try to make it to Charms class on time.

That night, Harry resolved to practice Occlumency. Not the half-hearted practicing that he had done last year, but really try to figure the subject out. It had become so much more important to him after...Sirius.

Harry laid down on his bed and looked up at the stone ceiling. "Let's see, what is it that Snape always says in lessons...? Oh yeah, "clear your mind". Well that's not much help. It's what I've been trying to do all this time. What else? "Let go of all emotion..." Harry thought on that for a minute. "When do I feel the least emotion?" The answer came quickly, a sweet, soft whisper in his mind. "When you cut..."

Harry gasped. "N-no. That can't be the answer." As Harry lay in bed, it became clearer and clearer, however. "Before I cut...I'm a sea of confusing emotions. While I cut, I feel and I'm so happy to feel the pain. But after...I feel so calm, so relieved, I feel nothing and everything. And then, once all the emotions have been sucked out of me, I can start to find new, better ones. I can start to feel truly alive and happy again."

Harry rolled over and absentmindedly pulled back his sleeves to look at his arms. "So now all I have to do is to think of a way to recreate that feeling. When I learned to conjure a Patronus, I had to think of a pleasant memory. Maybe I need a memory for this as well. No, not a memory, more like a metal image."

Harry closed his eyes and imagined large cuts on his arms. Imagined the small rivers of blood running down his arms. Lupin's voice when he was learning to conjure a Patronus came back to him, "That's not nearly strong enough..."

He imagined Voldemort, Cedric dying, Sirius dying, reading newspaper article after newspaper article about deaths caused by Voldemort. "That's no good. It just feels me with MORE emotion: anger, despair, blame."

Harry rolled over in frustration and pressed his face into his pillow. "I've almost got it..."

Suddenly Harry remembered a dream he had several months ago, after he had begun cutting–he had mostly forgotten it the next morning, other than a vague image and an uneasy feeling, but it came back to him now with striking vividness. He was standing in the middle of a large empty room that he had an odd feeling that he had been in before. Everything was in black and white but light streaming through two windows on one side of the room and the sheer whiteness of the walls made everything very bright. Harry had the horrible feeling that something evil was approaching, then the feeling that the evil was with him, inside of him. One agonizing second at a time he moved his head ever so slightly downward and stretched out his arms, palms facing upward. His arms were smooth and white, as they never would be again. Harry touched the soft, smooth skin of his right arm with trembling fingers.

Blood began to pour from his arm, far more blood than he ever saw when cut himself. The blood was the only color in the room. It was soon flowing from both arms, down his hands, collecting in a pool at his feet. He was crying tears of crimson, far darker than actual blood. The walls were crying too, great black streaks that looked like ink were running down him. Harry looked into the pool of his own blood, fascinated. He stared deeper and deeper. The red turned to black and soon the darkness was only thing that he saw. The nightmare was over. Harry felt nothing.

As soon as Harry walked into Snape's office, Snape pointed his wand at Harry. "Legil–"

"Wait! Professor Snape!"

Snape stopped and gave him a very irritated look.

"Do you think that you could give me a few seconds before you cast the spell? I need to think."

Snape sneered at him. "Do you think that the Dark Lord will be giving you "a few seconds", Potter?"

"No," Harry said"I just want to try something."

"Very well Potter," Snape said in an exasperated voice, "I'll count to ten and then I'll cast the spell." Snape began counting slowly. "One...two...three...f–"

"Wait, wait," Harry interrupted. Snape glared at him. "I can't think with you doing that. It is distracting. Just count to ten silently and then cast the spell."

"Of course Potter," Snape snipped sarcastically. "Anything else you wouldlike? A comfy chair and some incense?"

"Please just do it sir," Harry said. What would he do if Snape didn't agree? He didn't think that he would ever be able to Occlude quickly and with distractions without practicing it in this way first.

"Oh all right," Snape said. "Ten seconds and not an instant more. Begin now."

Harry remembered seeing the pool of blood in the dream. He looked into it. "This is my blood. My life." Soon he was surrounded by nothingness, devoid of emotion. He didn't hear the word "Legilimens" but felt an alien presence force its way into his mind, searching and searching but finding nothing.Harry soon pushed the presence out of his mind. He was pushing and pushing, right into Snape's own mind. He was easily sifting through Snape's memories. He saw one of the same memories that he had seen last year–Snape's father screaming at his mother, only this time it was more clear.

"You're nothing! Nothing, do you hear me, you whore?" He shouted. Then he hit the woman over and over again until she fell to the ground crying. Snape, who couldn't have been any older than five huddled in the corner crying. Harry felt something pushing him out. He was jerked back into his own body to find Snape glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

"I thought I told you to stay out of my memories, Potter," he whispered dangerously.

"I didn't mean to sir—I just—"

"How did you do that?"

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"What! You imbecile! How did you break inside my mind without uttering a syllable? It is supposed to extremely difficult to do, only the most skilled Legilimens can manage it! Yet you have shown virtually no indication of having any grasp of this subject at all before now!"

"Oh, well I didn't mean too–"

"You never mean too, do you Potter? Things always just happen for you. You have no control over your magic or discipline at all..." Snape paused in the middle of insulting Harry as though he had just remembered something.

"What technique did you use to clear your mind?"

"What? Why do ask?" Harry said evasively.

"Because you had a highly unusual expression on your face while you were preparing, Potter. And you said that you were going to 'try something'."

"Oh, um, well it was nothing really. Just trying to relax more."

"I see," said Snape, thoroughly unconvinced. "Mr. Potter, you should be aware that some forms of Occlumency, while probably the most effective, are not used by the majority of wizards because they are not considered particularly healthy for one's mental state and are generally thought to be bordering on Dark Arts."

Harry avoided Snape's eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. When you said clear your mind, I always thought you just meant to concentrate or something," Harry said a little angrily.

"I'm not responsible for your idiotic assumptions, Potter."

"What method of clearing the mind do you use sir?"

"That is none of your business. Legilimens!"

Coming soon: Chapter 5: What's In A Name?

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