HP Year 5: Let the War Begin
Chapter 8


By the end of the week, Harry felt back to normal. He no longer dwelled on his latest vision, and the incessant urge to cut himself was nearly completely gone. He had finished reading the book on Occlumency that morning (Friday morning), and now didn't know if he was looking forward to his first lesson, or dreading it.

He knew he ought to look forward to it, because it was the only idea anyone had had so far for stopping his visions. At the same time, though, he knew that the lesson would bring forth a lot of unpleasant memories that he hadn't had to think about in years – and that his uncle (Sev) would see them. Until he learned to Occlude himself, even slightly, the Legilimency that would be placed on him would bring forward all of his most painful memories, and many were memories that his guardians and Severus knew nothing about, as Harry had thus far escaped with telling them very little about the abuse he had suffered. He came close to telling Severus he didn't want to learn Occlumency, but knew that he couldn't do it. He had to stop these visions… and, really, perhaps it was time people learned the true extent of the abuse he had suffered. He knew by now that sharing his problems with his guardians helped him, but he didn't see how he could ever openly talk about it… so perhaps it was a good thing Snape would see his memories.

Still, no matter how much Harry tried to convince himself of this – because he knew that it was reasonable, rational logic – he couldn't help but be scared. Terrified, even… because as much as he knew his guardians and Severus deserved to know the truth, he didn't want them to. He didn't want them to think he was weak (although again, his rational side kept trying to tell him they wouldn't think he was weak at all), or to be disappointed in how little Harry apparently trusted them. They knew Harry hadn't told them everything, but he knew that they thought Harry had told them most of what had gone on at Number 4, Privet Drive.

So, he figured, it really wasn't much of a surprise that he had trouble concentrating during the keeper tryouts at five o'clock (when Ron owned the pitch. He had turned out to be far better than any other tryers, just as Harry had assured the redhead he would), or during his training session with Tonks that evening. She was beating him far easier than she had in a long time, and he could see in her eyes that this worried her.

"Something up, Harry?" Tonks asked after disarming him for the hundredth time that night.

Harry merely shrugged in response. How do you say you're afraid that people are going to learn about just how horrible your childhood really is?

"Is your vision still bothering you?" Tonks asked hesitantly, reluctant to bring the sensitive subject up.

"Not really," Harry shook his head. "I'm fine as long as I don't think about it." He sighed. "I just can't stop thinking about that Occlumency lesson. That's all."

"Oh." Tonks didn't seem to know what to say. "You'll be fine," she settled on eventually. "You pick things up easy. I'm sure it won't be too hard."

Harry smiled at her. "It's not the difficulty I'm worried about. It's the fact that learning it will make me think of the Dursleys again." Not the whole truth of why he was worried, but it was a part, at least, and it gave him an excuse for being so uptight and tense.

"Why don't you take Sirius or Remus with you, then?" Tonks suggested.

Harry gave her a look. "I can talk to Sev too, you know. I wish you lot would trust him more."

"Just trying to help," Tonks said, holding up her hands. "But Snape's pretty good at Legilimency. Maybe he'll be able to stop some of those memories popping up."

"Nah, I don't think he can, really," Harry told her, shrugging a little. "I'll just need to put up with it. Doesn't stop me worrying, though. You've seen what I'm like after nightmares."

Tonks nodded her head sombrely. "Well, you have a huge group of people who are here if you need them, Harry. Try not to forget that. None of us are going to judge you for what the Dursleys did, or how you feel about everything. You can trust us."

"I know I can," Harry told her, trying to assure himself as much as her. He felt embarrassed for making what should have been a fun training session into something sappy. "Now," he said lightly, trying to change the subject. "Are we going to duel, or are we going to stand about gossiping like a pair of old ladies all night?"

.

It took Harry forever to fall asleep that night, despite his exhaustion from his training session with Tonks. He was back in his own dormitory, and the light sound of snoring surrounded him – well, light from every bed except Rons. Memories of his life at the Dursleys flashed through his mind, taunting him, giving him a taster of what would surely come in his Occlumency lesson, and when morning arrived he was tense and tired, having gotten no more than an hours worth of sleep.

As soon as he felt it was late enough that people wouldn't find it odd he was up and about, Harry quietly dressed himself and left Gryffindor tower. He wanted a walk; that sound nice and relaxing. Perhaps he could throw some rocks into the water, too, and try and relieve some of tension from his muscles. He was angry with himself for letting his upcoming lesson affect him so much, but felt powerless to do anything to fix it. No matter what he tried to talk himself into believing, it always came down to one simple fact: tonight, he was going to be forced to relive memories he'd rather forget.

Having been as deeply immersed in his thoughts as he was, Harry was startled when he found himself already standing beside the lake. Goosebumps lightly covered his arms, as he hadn't thought to put on a cloak – although, to be fair, he hadn't thought he would need one when it was technically still summer. He frowned to himself slightly as he bent over to collect some of the larger rocks scattered around the earth. He really oughtn't to lose track of his surroundings like that. Anything could happen – safe as Hogwarts was from Voldemort and his followers, it didn't stop trouble springing up between the inhabitants already there, and Malfoy had already proved he didn't mind having his friends sneakily gang up on Harry.

Satisfied with his small bundle of rocks for the moment, Harry stepped back from the river and cast a small hovering charm on the rocks to keep them floating within arms reach. That done, he set about lunging each one into the still water, putting as much strength and emotion into each throw as he could. With each rock he threw, he could feel his emotion building higher and higher inside him; his fear, his anger, his pain enveloping him. His emotions from his vision came back to haunt him, and he found himself managing to throw the rocks further and further. His arm was starting to protest, but only faintly and Harry found it easy to ignore. When his collection of rocks was depleted, he wasted no time in simply summoning more to himself, not caring much for the size of them anymore, and continuing to hurl them into the water.

Harry kept up his relentless attack of the water for nearly an hour before finally sinking to his knees on the ground, staring numbly out at the water. He felt exhausted after his barrage, but he couldn't deny that he definitely felt better. His heart felt ten times lighter than it had this morning, and he almost wondered how it was possible he had been so deeply affected by something that he knew would only help him.

"That was impressive," a dreamy voice commented.

"It was nothing special," Harry shrugged, not turning round. He had become aware of Luna's presence about ten minutes ago, although he had no idea how long she had really been there for. He had been too engrossed with what he was doing to really pay much attention to his surroundings, although he didn't bother scolding himself this time. He was too tired. He sensed rather than heard Luna stepping forward, and sitting down a few inches to his right.

"I do that sometimes," she told him. When he glanced at her, he found her gaze on the now-calm water.

"Throw rocks?"

She nodded. "Little ones, though. Not the big ones you were using. And not for as long."

"Funny," Harry commented. "You never struck me as the violent type."

Luna gave him a small smile. "Daddy used to do it, back home. There's a pond near where we live. I suppose I copied it from him."

"Well, it works."

"Yes, it does."

The two became silent after that, each gazing out over the water and lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Harry's stomach gave an audible growl, and he stood up.

"Have you had breakfast yet, Luna?"

The blonde girl shook her head without looking at him. "I don't want any. I'll get a snack from the kitchens later."

"Okay," Harry said awkwardly. Luna had an odd look on her face, as though something was bothering her, but he didn't know how to bring the subject up with her. Luna was so odd sometimes, and he never knew how she would react so certain questions. After opening and closing his mouth several times like a fish, he finally decided on the blunt approach.

"Luna, is something wrong?"

This time, she did look at him, and Harry was dismayed to see her usual bright eyes looking dark and haunted. "I'll be okay," she assured him. Despite her saddened eyes, her smile was real.

"Luna…" Harry trailed off, not entirely sure what to say. He didn't want to pressure her into talking, as he knew how irritating that could be, but he was worried.

"I'll be okay," Luna repeated, before turning her gaze back to the water. "Your stomach is growling, Harry. Maybe you should feed it. I just need time to think."

"Okay," Harry relented. "Um, you know we'll listen, right? Me, and Ron, and Hermione, and everyone. You know, if you want to talk."

"I know, Harry," Luna said, and she sounded almost tired. The attitude was so unlike Luna that Harry felt his worry building, and he almost stayed to argue with her until she told him what was wrong. He knew, though, how much he would hate that if it was done to him, so after a long moment of gazing at his dreamy friend he turned and headed quietly back up to the castle.

.

When Harry found Hermione and Cho sitting with Neville at the Gryffindor table, he hesitated before sitting down. He had come in hoping to find them so he could talk to them about Luna, but now that he was actually there he didn't know whether that would be a good idea or not. Thankfully, Cho sensed his indecisiveness and essentially made his choice for him.

"Did something happen out there?" Cho asked after trading a look with Hermione.

"Luna joined me by the lake," Harry said slowly. "She was upset about something."

"Oh," Cho said softly, understanding dawning in her eyes almost immediately. "Today will be a tough day for her. I can't believe I forgot!"

"What is it?" Neville asked, after swallowing a mouthful of toast.

After glancing around her to make sure no one was eavesdropping, Cho lowered her voice and said, "today's the fifth anniversary of her mothers death."

"That's terrible," Hermione said softly, one hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were round, and sympathetic.

Cho nodded. "Keep it to yourselves, though. She doesn't like talking about it much."

"We will," Harry assured her. Poor Luna. "How did her mum die?"

"From a potions accident," Cho told him after a moment. "Luna was there when it happened, too."

"Luna was there?" Neville gaped.

"Yeah, she was," Cho confirmed with a sad smile. "Just leave her alone for today, though. She likes her own company on the anniversaries."

It wasn't hard to leave Luna alone. Even if Harry had wanted to seek her out, she was nowhere to be found. Not on the grounds when he went for a run, nor in the library when he went to do his homework. Cho told him later that she hadn't been in the Ravenclaw common room, either. She also told him, though, that Luna had a lot of hiding places – although, that much, Harry already knew. Luna's tendencies to walk around whilst daydreaming meant she discovered a lot of places by accident that most people never noticed. Of course, if Harry desperately wanted to find her, he knew the Marauders Map would show him exactly where she was.

.

Harry's Occlumency lesson that night was scheduled for eight o'clock, so at seven he went to see Sirius and Remus, hoping that maybe being with them would help calm his jittery nerves.

"Hey, kiddo," Sirius greeted Harry as he entered the room. His godfather was stretched out on the couch, and had obviously been in the middle of teasing Remus – who was sitting on the single sofa chair with an open book lying on his lap – about something.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Remus asked, seeing past Harry's smile to the dull look in his eyes. Sirius shifted up from his lying position so that there was space for Harry to sit beside him, and Harry gladly took it.

"Is it about your Occlumency lesson?" Remus tried again when Harry didn't respond. "Tonks mentioned that you were worried about it."

Harry nodded slightly, not looking at either of his guardians. Beside him, he felt Sirius shifting again, and then he felt his godfathers arm snaking around his shoulders and hugging him close.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Sirius offered.

"No," Harry said, finally speaking up. "Sev can take just as much care of me as you two could if something happens."

"It's not about us not trusting him, pup," Remus told him, instantly understanding where Harry's reluctance was coming from. "But having three people there to support you is better than one. You're going to have to face some things that you haven't thought about in a long time. We just want to make sure you're okay."

Harry closed his eyes tightly as he felt the same fear he had gotten rid of only that morning building up in him again. He felt ashamed. Why was he so scared? They were only memories. His Uncle – no, Vernon – couldn't really hurt him anymore. Abruptly, he turned and buried his face in Sirius' side, wrapping his arms tightly around his godfather. He did know why he was scared. Memories did hurt, just as much as they had at the time. And he still wasn't ready for his guardians, and Severus, to know all his childhood secrets. It didn't matter if he knew they deserved to know, or that he would undoubtedly feel better when they did know; he quite simply wasn't ready for them to know. But if he didn't do this, he would have to continue having visions, and he wasn't sure which was worse.

Harry jumped when he felt Sirius place his hand on his back and rub soothing circles on it.

"You're going to be okay, Harry," he heard Sirius trying to assure him. "Snape'll take it slow. He doesn't want to hurt you either. We'll come, too, just incase. We'll stay back, though, and let Snape do his thing. We'll be there for you, kiddo. You'll be fine. You've lived through it all once, you're strong."

"You don't have to do it, you know," Remus said quietly from behind him, having joined the two on the couch now. "I'm sure we can find something else to try, if you don't want to do this."

"No," Harry said in a small, quiet voice. He coughed a little, trying to clear his throat of the annoying lump that had appeared. "No," he repeated, his voice stronger this time. "I need to do this… what if there is nothing else?" He tightened his hold on Sirius. "Besides… there's so much I haven't told you, and can't tell you. I can't talk about it. You always said you wanted to understand, and know more about what they did. Maybe now you will."

Sirius looked up at Remus, feeling completely at a loss for words. Yes, they did want to know more about how the Dursleys had treated Harry, but not if it made Harry like this. They had never seen Harry look so scared and broken before, not even when they had first found him lying battered and bruised on his bed, deserted at Privet Drive.

"We do want to know what they did to you, Harry," Remus said finally, taking charge. "But not until you're ready, which at the moment you're clearly not."

Harry shrugged in response. "I need to learn the Occlumency, don't I? I don't want to keep having visions. Maybe it'll be like… well, you know. I would never have told you about my self-harm problem, but I did feel better once you knew. Maybe it'll be like that. Things always seem worse when you keep them to yourself, don't they?" Harry didn't know if Sirius understood the last bit, but he knew Remus did. He knew how much poor Moony had hated keeping his 'furry problem' a secret from his friends, and how much better he had felt when his friends knew the truth.

"What time is it?" Harry asked suddenly, afraid that he would be late. He felt like he had been here for hours.

"It's just after ten to eight," Sirius said, craning his neck to see the clock they had up on the wall.

"I guess I better head down, then," Harry mumbled, pulling himself away from Sirius.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked uncertainly. "You don't have to start tonight, you know. You could start tomorrow, or next week."

"And panic for another week?" Harry asked, giving him a tight smile. "I think I'd rather just get it over with."

"And you're absolutely positive you don't want us to come with you?" Sirius asked, obviously hoping Harry would change his mind.

"I'll be okay."

Sirius and Remus traded a look that clearly said they didn't believe him, and Harry couldn't blame them. After the way he had acted tonight, he wouldn't have believed himself either.

.

Harry paused in the hallway, after quietly closing the door behind him, and simply stood for a moment, gathering his thoughts together without anyone else there to distract him. He did feel a little better now, after his time with Sirius and Remus… but he was still scared out of his mind. Sighing, he set off down towards the dungeons. It really was better to get it all over and done with, wasn't it?

Harry passed several students on his journey through the school, but thankfully they did no more than stare at him as he walked past. He didn't think he could put up with people coming up to him to ask questions right now. As he neared the dungeons, he saw less and less people, until he was alone – or, at least, he had thought he was alone, until a familiar boy rounded the corner. Harry tensed instinctively, his body alert as Blaise Zabini looked up and noticed him.

"Potter," Zabini hissed. Almost instantly, he had pulled his wand out of his pocket and was regarding Harry with suspicious eyes.

"Zabini," Harry said in a level tone, bringing his own wand up and switching inconspicuously to a battle stance.

"What are you doing down here?" Zabini asked, with hate and distrust clearly visible in his voice.

"I think you'll find, Zabini, that that is none of your business."

"It is when you're down in my part of the school."

"Anyone can go to the dungeons, Zabini."

"Not Gryffindors. We don't come up to your tower."

"Yes, well, you can't brew potions up there, can you?" Harry asked icily. Knowing that if he didn't hurry, he would be late, Harry stepped slowly forwards and started making his way towards Zabini.

"If you must know, I have a detention with Professor Snape," Harry told the Slytherin boy frostily. It was the first excuse that came into his head. He didn't want to blow Severus' cover. Zabini would no doubt be telling all his friends about his encounter with Harry, so word would make its way to Voldemort if anyone knew the real reason for Harry visiting Snape… and Snape would most certainly be punished if Voldemort found out about their Occlumency lessons. He wouldn't want Harry to have an extra defence against him.

"Not so fast!"

Harry barely had time to duck as a red stunner shot his way.

"What the hell was that for?" Harry cried, throwing a shield up to deflect any more stunners that Zabini might send his way.

Zabini simply smirked at him, and Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that the Slytherins were plotting something against him. Zabini kept up a relentless attack, but every spell he sent was deflected into the wall by Harry's shield, and Harry was growing impatient. Careful to keep his shield up, he sent a quick stunner at Zabini who, not expecting the attack, fell instantly unconscious. He glared at the boy as he walked swiftly past, not wanting to be any later now for his lesson than he already was. He didn't particularly care what become of the Slytherin, so he left him lying in the hall.

"I was about to floo for you," Severus said when Harry finally reached his uncles quarters.

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "Got delayed."

Snape raised an eyebrow, but did not ask for the reason, for which Harry was glad. He didn't want to waste time talking about one stupid Slytherin; he wanted to get this lesson done and over with.

"How do we start?" Harry asked when Snape didn't say anything. "I read the book… I've been practicing, trying to think of water." That was one of the methods the book had mentioned; since many found it difficult to clear their minds completely, it was easier for most to simply focus on one thing, and the recommended thing to think about was an element. Harry had chosen water, since he always found staring at the lake outside so calming.

"You do know, Harry, that you will undoubtedly face many unpleasant memories this evening?"

Harry felt his hands curl into fists at his side as he fought to stay in control of his emotions. "Yes," he said in as strong a voice as he could manage. Severus' eyes glanced at Harry's fists for a moment, but his uncle seemed to understand his determination to see the lesson through.

"Alright, then. Sit in the middle of the floor, please. I would have you standing, but I don't want to run the risk of you falling during one of your memories."

"Okay," Harry said softly. He sat in the middle of the floor as asked, and closed his eyes as he tried to keep himself calm. When he opened them again, he found Severus sitting directly opposite him, his wand in hand.

"Before we begin, your guardians requested that I seek your permission to allow them access to the memories I see tonight."

"Why?" Harry asked without thinking. "Oh." He did know. He had mentioned at some point, had he not, that this was how he would tell them of his childhood. Because he would never talk about it, he had told them he was glad, in a way, that he would be able to show them the memories. "Yeah, sure." He just wanted to start. Severus must have sensed his impatience, for he smiled a little before shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Do you remember how to empty your mind?"

"I think so," Harry said uncertainly. "Although, I didn't know if I was doing it correctly to begin with."

"Try," Severus urged him. The two fell into silence as Harry focused to do what he had been practicing whenever he had quiet time to himself. He tried to imagine the water, like a protective blanket covering his memories. "Let me know when you're ready," Severus' voice came floating across, echoing off the water. Harry felt almost peaceful now, and felt quite sure the blanket of water was safely in place.

"I think… I'm ready…"

"Legilimens."

.

Almost at once, Harry felt an unnerving presence in his mind. It was prodding at the blanket, cautiously at first, but then more determinedly. It was trying to break through, it wanted to see his thoughts… and suddenly the water was gone, as though evaporated by fire – and with the disappearance of his protective blanket came the unstoppable rush of memories.

He was five, and it was Dudley's sixth birthday. He was being hit by his Uncle Vernon for touching sweet Duddykin's cake, although it was really Dudley who had licked all the icing off when Aunt Petunia wasn't watching.

He was seven, and he had burned the breakfast. Aunt Petunia had hit him over the head with the frying pan without letting it cool down, and his head burned painfully. He was stuck in his cupboard, trembling, knowing that when his Uncle arrived home he would be receiving another bad beating; that was the second time that week he had managed to burn the food.

He was eight and, after a particularly bad haircut, was surprised to find his hair had re-grown overnight. Uncle Vernon was furious at him for using his 'freaky power' and was adamant he be appropriately punished…

He was nine, and his Uncle was drunk. He was lying out in the hallway, having been dragged from his cupboard, and his Uncle was beating him about the head…

And suddenly, the presence in his mind was gone. The memories stopped flowing, although the fear that had settled heavily in Harry's stomach didn't. He could feel himself pressed against something hard, and could feel his arms wrapped protectively around himself. He kept his eyes shut. He felt completely disorientated… where was he? Why had his Uncle stopped hitting him? A hand lay itself lightly on his shoulder, and Harry flinched back from the contact.

"Open your eyes, Harry."

Who was that? His Uncle didn't refer to him as 'Harry' – nor did he address Harry in such a gentle tone. Breathing heavily, Harry slowly opened his eyes and, catching sight of the cauldron at the opposite end of the room, everything came flooding back. He sat up abruptly, startling even himself.

"Sorry," he muttered, not looking at Severus. He lifted a hand to his face self-consciously, wiping away the tear marks. When had he cried? He felt ashamed of himself, and he was terrified to see his Uncle's – Severus', not Vernon's – face.

"Harry, look at me."

Harry numbly shook his head.

"Look at me." When Harry still didn't look up, Severus reached out to tilt Harry's head up himself. "What are you apologising for?" he asked, when Harry finally met his gaze.

Harry tried to look away, but Snape's grip held his gaze firmly in place. "For not blocking you out. For letting you see that."

"Harry…" Snape sighed; something that was completely uncharacteristic for the potions master. "I didn't expect you to block me. In fact, your Occlumency shield was stronger than I expected for someone who only had one book as a reference. Look at me, Harry," he said, for Harry had managed to drop his gaze again. Unwillingly, he looked back up. "I am not going to judge you by your memories. What the Dursleys did – how they treated you – that is not your fault. It does not make you weak, as you seem to think it does."

"Sirius and Remus have already told me all that," Harry mumbled.

"And yet you do not believe it."

"I do!" Harry hastened to object. "I do, I believe them… I just…" Harry trailed off helplessly.

"No, you don't, Harry. You trust them, perhaps, and believe that there is truth to their words… but you don't believe them, not entirely. Even after staying with them for over a year, you still have an irrational fear of rejection from them."

Harry was silent. How was Severus so easily able to describe the strange, confusing mixture of emotions bubbling inside him right now? How was Severus able to say everything confidently; be so sure that what he was saying was the truth?

"Can we try again?" Harry asked, more for a change of subject than anything else.

"Are you certain that's a good idea?" Severus asked, sounding wary.

"Not really," Harry admitted. "But I want to learn… I need to learn this. I can't… I mean, I can't let – ah, crap." He didn't really know how to say what he felt. He didn't want anyone to see his memories, but he couldn't let that stop him learning Occlumency. He couldn't let his memories haunt him forever, however frightening confronting them seemed at the moment. He could see in Severus' eyes, though, that he understood what Harry was unable to say.

"Tell me when you're ready, Harry."

Harry nodded slightly, and closed his eyes. It was much harder to clear his mind this time round, with all his fear and uncertainty still clouding his mind, but eventually he felt the soothing water helping to push out the negative feelings. He waited for a moment longer, wanting to be certain his protective blanket of water was securely in his place, before opening his mouth. "Ready."

The blanket seemed to break far quicker this time, although even after memories started seeping through, Harry struggled to repair it, to reject the violent presence in his mind. When that failed, and the memories started whirling through his mind again, he was detached enough to realise they were far more random this time; rather than building up from older memories to newer ones, they were oddly mixed.

It was his first time self-harming. He held the razor in his hands, his expression dreamy but confused. How could such a little metal blade help him feel so much better? How on earth did causing himself more pain help him feel better? It made no logical sense, and yet it made all the sense in the world. That little razor, that was his new best friend…

He was in the graveyard with Cedric and Viktor, the cup lying at their feet. He watched, powerless, as the life-taking green light hit his friend in the chest. He was paying no attention to Cedric, or the dangers that surrounded Harry himself… all he could see was Viktor lying on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky…

He was in his Aunt and Uncles bedroom. His Aunt Petunia and Dudley were out, and Uncle Vernon had pulled him up to the bedroom.

"I want to try something fun," he had said.

He had proceeded to shove Harry roughly on the bed, and before the little seven-year old boy knew what was happening, his clothes had been stripped off him. It didn't take long for his Uncle to join him on the bed, and the searing pain to start…

He was twelve. It was the night after the incident with Dobby, and the ruined dinner, and he was receiving the worst pounding he had in a long time. His head hurt, his face hurt, his body ached all over. Even through the pain, he panicked as he wondered how he would do his chores the next day – for he surely had to, lest he receive another beating for being so lazy…

The memories stopped again, and Harry lay panting like a dog on the floor. He was completely aware of his surroundings this time, and as soon as he felt able to, he pushed himself into a sitting position and pushed himself away from Severus. Of all the memories for his Uncle to have seen, the first time he had been sexually abused was the worst one… when he glanced up, he caught sight of the livid expression on the Potion Masters face, and felt a trickle of fear inside him.

"I think -" Harry's voice broke, and he struggled to regain his composure before trying again. "I think that's enough for tonight… I can't do that again."

Just hearing Harry's voice brought Severus back down to Earth, and his expression instantly evened out.

"You did much better that time, Harry," Severus complimented him, not bothering to stand up. He slid forward a little on the floor, and Harry instantly pushed himself further back.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Severus said, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I know you're not," Harry told him, not meeting his gaze. He did know that. But he couldn't help the fear that was inside him now, and he didn't want to disappoint Severus by flinching away from physical contact. It was better just to stay away from him, and avoid a situation like that. He knew the fear he felt was irrational, and was only leftover from his memories… but all he could feel was Vernon's hands on him, determined to make him feel pain.

"Then why won't you let me near?" Severus asked, inching his way towards Harry again. As he had done the last time, Harry pushed himself backwards – and this time, his back came into contact with the wall.

"Stop!" he yelled when Severus yet again inched closer. His Uncle stopped, unsure as to what to do. Harry felt tears – tears of pain, fear, shame – falling down his cheeks, and he could feel his whole body trembling. He was suddenly aware of a pain in his head, a developing headache – from what? The Legilimency? The stress of his memories?

Suddenly a new pain joined. It wasn't his headache, but it was in his head – it was his scar. It was prickling, quickly burning up, becoming more and more painful.

"Sev," Harry croaked, his voice thick and raw with pain and emotion. "My scar…"

This time, he didn't back away from his Uncle, although he did flinch when Severus wrapped one arm tightly around him, using his other hand to trace his scar lightly with one cool finger. He could feel himself slipping then, as two separate sights tried to confuse his mind; one part of him was seeing Severus, his lips moving soundlessly, and the other a completely new image. It wasn't an attack, by the looks of it, merely a small meeting. He counted seven Death Eaters in the room, and Nagini sitting by the fire…

.

Harry was angry. His idiotic servants had yet again failed to complete the simplest of tasks. He glared at them all, daring them to try and defend themselves. He had sent fifteen of them, and what did he have now? Seven idiots who didn't deserve to be in his ranks at all, and eight more idiots rotting away in Azkaban.

"You will pay," Harry said icily. "One of that blundering fool's students could have done a better job than a cluster of you accomplished together."

None of the worthless fools in front of him said a word. Suddenly knowing what Voldemort was going to do, Harry started fighting furiously, trying to get out of the monsters mind.

"MacDougall, step forward."

No, no, no, Harry cried desperately to himself. He hurt enough. He didn't need to feel the added pain of the Cruciatus curse. Think, Harry. How do you get out? He hadn't succeeded at all in pushing Severus out and, in any case, he wasn't trying to push Voldemort out of his mind; he was trying to pull himself out of Voldemort's.

"Crucio!"

The pain burned through Harry, and he felt it as clearly as if it were being cast on his own body. He screamed right along with the man currently writhing on the floor at Voldemort's feet, struggling to retain his focus even after the curse had ceased. Phantom pain, Harry thought idly. It was a phrase Hermione had used one, and had then had to explain the definition of to Ron. Knowing it wouldn't be long until the Cruciatus was used on yet another Death Eater, Harry set about trying to get out. He tried to ignore everything of Voldemort that he could feel, and think only of his protective blanket of water.

.

And then, quite suddenly, he felt a tugging sensation. It felt like someone was pulling him back and, although he was hesitant at first in case it was a trick, he soon allowed it to pull him, and gasped when he found himself in his own body once more. His head was on Severus' lap, and his Uncle's fingers were resting lightly on his head… and then he realized what had happened. Snape had used Legilimency to break into Harry's mind and pull him back from Voldemort's.

Thinking of Severus being in his mind reminded Harry once again of Vernon and, with that reminder, the fear he had felt before returned. He pulled away from Severus' grasp, opting to sit a few inches in front of him. Severus was eyeing him warily, having noticed the return of Harry's previous emotions.

"Are you in pain?" Severus asked quietly, not bothering to attempt to get close to Harry this time.

Harry nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. His head hurt, whether from the lesson or his vision he wasn't sure, and his side hurt too. He had no idea what he had done to it, but it felt painful enough that he was sure it would bruise. He jumped when a potion was suddenly placed in front of him.

"But I had a vision," Harry said, his voice dry. "Won't that interfere with the potions I need for that?"

"Ah, so you do pay attention in Potions," Severus smiled slightly. "However, no. That is a fairly simple pain relieving potion that should not interfere with the other two at all."

"Okay." That was all Harry needed to down the potion, and he felt a little better when the pain in his side disappeared and his headache became nothing more than a dull throb.

"Would you prefer to floo back up?" Severus asked, after disposing of the empty potion bottle.

Harry nodded tiredly. Now that the stabbing pain in his side was gone, there was nothing to keep him alert, and he felt himself becoming drowsy. He swayed a little when he stood, but stepped back out of reach when Severus tried to help him. He tried not to feel guilty when a brief look of hurt shot across his Uncle's face, nor when he flinched whilst accepted a handful of floo powder. He was so tired.

"I think perhaps we shall stick with your normal defence lesson tomorrow," Severus told him before he left. "One lesson a week will be taxing enough. Rest well, Harry."

.

Even though Severus had tried to act normal, mainly for Harry's sake he supposed, it was hard not to hear the concern in his voice, which only increased the guilt Harry felt for his actions when he finally stumbled out of the fireplace into the Marauder's Quarters. Although he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, he found the energy within him to dodge round Sirius' hands when he tried to help him up, and Remus' after that.

"Harry?" Sirius asked questioningly.

"Sleep," Harry slurred. "Leave m' a'one."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Remus asked worriedly. He had the sense not to try and touch Harry, although it was all too plain how much he wanted to.

"T'red. Oh," he added, suddenly remembering. "Need potions."

"You need potions?" Sirius repeated slowly. "What for?"

"Voldymort."

"You had a vision, whilst you were learning Occlumency?" Remus asked, his voice clear of any emotion that Harry could hear.

"Mmhmm. Sevvy helped though. Pull'd me ou'."

"Go to bed, Harry," Sirius said firmly. "I'll bring you your potions in a minute."

Harry didn't bother undressing, opting simply to slide under the covers. He obediently drank his potions when they were brought to him and, after being urged to rest by his guardians, let himself fall into blissful darkness.

He really had had quite a night.


Well, here we go! Chapter eight. I wasn't going to post it up until Friday, but I think that after waiting so patiently during the large break between chapters six and seven, you deserve some fast updates. And also... sorry if some parts are hard to understand. The silly editor keeps taking out all the parts I had in italics! I've managed to get some parts to stay... but I really can't be bothered fighting with the silly thing.

I hope this chapter wasn't too boring for you. I've started re-writing year 4 in my spare time, and re-reading year 5, and it struck me how little I seemed to write about Harry's emotions... so, well, this is my way of trying to make up for it, I suppose. The next chapter will focus a lot on Harry's thoughts and emotions too, so I'm sorry if you're not so keen on that kind of stuff - I do promise, though, that the events in chapter ten and eleven will more than make up for it all!!

Also, wanted to make a quick mention to 2963 (who is a member, incase you're wondering). It was a comment of hers about how little I've shown you about how the Dursleys treated Harry that led me to introducing the Occlumency lessons now, rather than later in the story as I had originally planned.

As always, please read and review - it makes me feel good inside!

Oh! One last thing. Do you think the story is okay as it is, or would you rather I find a beta for it again? A beta would make the updates a little slower, but I don't know... maybe the story needs some help. What do you think?