Air, he needed more of it. He felt the gas flowing into his lungs, but it never seemed to be enough. His fatigue was only growing. His robes were clinging tightly to his skin. If a muggle saw him they might think that he had just gone swimming. His pale hands felt unnaturally cold in the dank dungeon. He might have though a window was propped open, letting the freezing air flow into the room but he knew better.

"I can tell you are hiding things,"Snape hissed at him.

"Sorry," Tom wheezed back," If I ease up at all I'm going to lose it."Snape flicked his wand again casting the spell. Tom gritted his teeth as he felt it hit him. His magical shield protected his mind from penetration; however, keeping it up was extraordinarily difficult. He felt like a stampede was hitting him in the chest with its full force, but unlike a normal stampede he couldn't horde it off with his hands, everything had to be done purely with his mind. It was exhausting.

"It's a shame. I was beginning to think you had a miniscule amount of talent," Snape sneered unhappily. Tom didn't respond he simply continued to gasp for air. A moment later he felt the stampede again. His muscles screamed in resistance as he called on all the strength he could to try and move the shield back slightly. At first it seemed to move willingly, then just like that it was gone and Tom was looking up at the Hogwarts castle. He was walking through the front gate with Dumbledore. The sun was shining high in the sky casting illuminating the hulking building. This memory at least, was relatively happy, it was the first time he had come to Hogwarts. The last time he slipped up on the shield he was sucked into a memory where the only thing he could hear was his own screams.

"Weak," Snape spat as the world reappeared around him.

Tom frowned," This isn't working," He protested exasperatedly," Even if I did manage to get it perfect its too exhausting. I'll give it away on my face."

Snape's icy glare fell over him, "Then you will have to get better," Snape sneered simply.

Tom ran his hand through his hair and nodded to Snape signifying that he was ready for the next wave. Again came the pressure and again he attempted to resist. This time he chose complete exclusion rather than attempting to let him and risk exposing everything.

"Occlemency isn't a silly spell that can be used at will. It is only brought about after you have successfully won a complicated game of self-control. If you wish to master the skill then you must master yourself. Clearly you have some work to be done," Snape said. He took his wand and tucked it into his pocked frowning once more at Tom before stalking behind his desk.

"You are to keep your brick wall around your mind at all times this week. There should never be a moment when your thoughts are vulnerable. Perhaps you should also indulge yourself with the knowledge of what areas of the brain hold what thoughts," Snape instructed formally. "Do not disappoint me."

Tom nodded silently as the threat hung in the air. "Thank you for your time Professor," he said quietly before turning around to head out the door. Just as his hand clamped around the door knob he felt the pressure of legilemency press on his mind again and for a moment he caught a glimps of his childhood bedroom. He quickly reset his barrier pushing Snape out of his mind.

"I fail to see the difficulty that student find in simple instruction," Snape sneered out aggravated.

"Sorry sir," Tom murmured. With that he slipped out the room. The sun was starting to get lower in the sky. Judging from its positioning it was pressing seven now. Tom had missed dinner. He glanced one last time at the sky. If he hurried he might be able to swing by the kitchen on the way to the dormitories. All of a sudden his pace seemed to pick up significantly. When he rounded the Great Hall he could smell a pleasant scent that resembled some kind of baked sugary dessert. He could feel his stomach growling as he approached the door. He reached out and twisted the door knob entering the kitchen.

He thought it was peculiar that the light was on in the kitchen so late, but he figured it must ust be the house elves cleaning up. The kitchen was a relatively large room with many shelves and cabnets for all sorts of tools and foods. It may have taken forever to find an acceptable meal Tom concluded that he had to do the only reasonable thing- follow his nose. The scent of the sweet was strong now and he closed his eyes and followed it. If he had to guess what it was at that moment he would have said it was some kind of sticky bun. A sticky bun most certainly would be good right now. Unfortunately he didn't find a sticky bun. Well he did, but he didn't thing he would be able to eat it. In the middle of the room was a small scrawny creature wearing a dirty pillow case. In one of his bony fingers he held a glass vial. He was pouring its clear contents over the sticky bun that he held in his other hand.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked disappointed.

The creature jumped at the sound of his voice. Its large green eyes looked up at him fearfully. Tom sniffed the air again, behind the potent smell of sugar that hung in the air there was a twinge of something else, something a bit bitter. He knew that smell…

Tom lunged at the elf catching it off guard, just prior to its attempt to apparate away.

"I didn't mean it. Dobby is a bad house elf terrible house elf," it squealed as it struggled to reach for something on the nearby kitchen counter. Tom yanked it into the air bringing it to eye level with him. He reached around it and took the sweet from the elf.

"Whats this?" he asked although he expected no answer, "I think I'm going to find out." He took the thing and brought it to his mouth opening up as if to take a bite.

"No," the creature yelled, "Dobby has been bad. Very very bad. Don't eat it."

"Why not?" Tom demanded

"Dobby poisoned it," it squealed, "Bad Dobby, bad bad Dobby."

"Who did you want to kill," Tom asked.

"Dobby did not mean to kill anyone. It is dangerous at Hogwarts, very dangerous. Dobby needs to help Dobby's… friend. Dobby's friend isn't safe at Hogwarts," the creature said.

"Who are you trying to protect?" Tom inquired curiously.

"Dobby cannot say. Dobby isn't supposed to help," the creature said. Tom lowered it down putting it onto its feet. He made sure to stay in contact with it though just in case it tried to apparate again.

"It must be a pretty good friend for a house elf to disobey his master for," Tom prompted.

The creature's eyes looked suddenly sorrowful and started it started wailing, "Dobby is a bad house elf," it cried. It reached for something on counter again, this time it found a wooden spoon. "Dobby is a bad house elf," it wailed again as it began to beat itself with a spoon.

"Stop it," Tom demanded calmly yanking it out of his hand. He examined the elf again unsure of how to proceed at this time period. "You know I know a lot about house elves. I learned about them when I was a kid. You know what I learned? House elves, they don't disobey their masters. Ever. Whoever you're trying to protect must be pretty important huh. Who is it? Dumbledore?" the elf's eyes traveled to the floor, avoiding Tom's, "One of the teachers?" The elf's eyes continued to stare, "Lockhart maybe?" The elf's eyes continued to stare, "One of the students then?" This time they flicked momentarily up at Tom's face, "A Slytherin?" The elf's eyes stayed at the floor, "A Gryffindor?" They flicked up at his face yet again. Tom racked his brain for a prominent Gryffindor, anyone in the house. There was only one person he could think of, "Harry Potter."

The elf lunged for the spoon again. When finding it out of reach it settled for throwing itself at the counter in a painful manner. "Bad Dobby," it cried over and over again.

"Stop it," Tom demanded unhappily as it twisted from his grasp. Then, just as his skin lost contact, the elf disappeared, leaving Tom alone in the kitchen.