AN: Wow, sorry about that, guys. The site was definitely having some issues. But it looks like the issues might be resolved now. Crossing my fingers!
Memento Vivere
Chapter XII / Stream of Unconsciousness
No matter how much he had insisted to Sanguini that he had wanted to go back to Hogwarts and he couldn't just leave his friends, now that they were on the other side of Christmas and the start of term was coming nearer and nearer, Harry was beginning to find that there was very little he actually wanted to go back to. Returning to Hogwarts meant going back under Umbridge's oppressive rule and an ever increasing mountain of homework as their O.W.L.s drew ever more around the corner. With his suspension, he did not even have Quidditch to look forward to as a break every now and then, and Dumbledore was proving to be more distant than ever. If it had not been for the D.A. and his own pride—and the fact that Sirius was more entitled to his company—he might have reconsidered Sanguini's offer to live with him for a few months. Even his lessons with Malfoy did not present much encouragement; he could probably learn everything Malfoy had to teach him from a few of the vampires.
Then, hardly a week after Christmas, something happened to make Harry positively dread returning to school.
"Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said, poking her head into his and Ron's bedroom, where they were engaged in a round of Exploding Snap with Hermione and Ginny, "could you go down to the drawing room? Professor Snape would like a word with you."
Harry froze and stared at her in horror. This proved to be a bad move, as seconds later, his cards exploded in his lap.
"Ouch! I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, what did you say?" he asked, shaking his hand a bit, sure he must have misheard something. Snape couldn't possibly have asked to speak to him; he preferred to say as little to Harry as possible unless it was to insult him, a sentiment which Harry happily returned in kind.
"Professor Snape, dear. In the drawing room. He'd like a word."
Harry stared at her a bit more. Then he looked around at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, whose expressions all mirrored exactly how horrified he was feeling. Then he looked back around at Mrs. Weasley.
"Snape?" he said in disbelief. "You're sure it's him?"
"Professor Snape, dear," Mrs. Weasley said reprovingly. "Of course it's him. Come along now, quickly, he says he can't stay long."
"What's he want with you?" said Ron, looking unnerved as Mrs. Weasley withdrew from the room.
"No idea," Harry said, racking his brains for what he could have possibly done to encourage Snape to call on him at Grimmauld Place. He was quite sure his Potions marks had improved in the weeks leading up to Christmas, and there was no reason for him to care about anything else Harry had been up to. Maybe Malfoy had blabbed to him about something?
He pushed open the door to the drawing room a minute later to find that someone had either conjured or found three wing-backed armchairs and placed them near the fireplace, and that both Snape and Sirius were inside waiting for him, though neither of them had sat down. The two of them were standing near two of the chairs instead, glaring in opposite directions.
Harry carefully closed the door as he stepped inside and the soft click seemed to echo through the heavy silence of the room.
Snape looked around at him and gestured to the remaining chair, which sat between the other two.
"Sit down, Potter."
"You know," Sirius said loudly in the direction of the window, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."
Harry slowly walked over and sat down in the proffered chair. It was slightly closer to the one Sirius stood behind, but it was facing Snape's considerably more.
"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," Snape said, the familiar sneer curling his lips, "but Black—"
"I'm his godfather," Sirius said, louder than ever.
"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," Snape said, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel...involved."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius demanded, stepping around his chair.
"Merely that I am sure you must feel—ah—frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful for the Order."
Sirius flushed an angry red. Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to Harry.
"The headmaster has sent me here for two reasons today, Potter. The first is to tell you that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."
"Study what?" Harry said blankly.
Snape's sneer became even more pronounced.
"Occlumency, Potter. The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."
Harry felt his heart speed up very fast. Defence against external penetration? Did they really still think he was being possessed? He was about half a second away from marching into Dumbledore's office and setting him right on that himself.
"Why do I have to study Occlu—thing?" Harry asked, not quite able to keep the anger out of his voice.
Snape eyed him disdainfully. "We will be getting to that. Suffice to say, the headmaster thinks it is a good idea, and that is enough. You will receive private lessons twice a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"
"Yes," said Harry, who had never had any intention of telling Umbridge anything. "Who's going to be teaching me?"
Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am."
Harry felt his stomach sink and contract and flip-flop all at once. Extra lessons with Snape? That was even worse than extra lessons with Malfoy. At least he could insult Malfoy as frequently as he was insulted himself. He thought he might prefer spending hours in Umbridge's office cutting his hand open over spending any extra time with Snape.
"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" Sirius demanded. He had taken another couple steps closer to Snape and was standing at Harry's knee now. "Why you?"
"I suppose because it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks," Snape said silkily. "I assure you, I did not beg for the job. Which brings us, incidentally, to the second reason I am here."
Snape interlaced his long fingers on top of the back of the chair he stood behind and turned to Harry again. Then he thought better of it and glanced back up at Sirius. "It might be best if you step outside now, Black. I would prefer there to be no distractions."
"You've got no right to order me about in my own house," Sirius snarled back. "I'll be staying right here with Harry."
Snape's mouth curled into it's usual sneer again. "How touching. However, as I am his teacher and we are now in a lesson, I am going to have to insist you leave."
Harry very nearly stood up. "Wait, what lesson? We're starting now?"
Snape's mouth was getting a workout, with all the curling his lips were doing, this time in a malicious smile. "The headmaster feels it would be pertinent to begin as soon as possible. I am here today to assess your current level, so I might know where I will have to begin with teaching you, and to give you an idea of what it will be like. As such," he said with a poisonous look back over at Sirius, "your godfather's presence here, as anywhere, is quite unnecessary."
Sirius jerked violently in Snape's direction. Harry shot to his feet and got between them before either of them had a chance to draw their wands. He wouldn't have begrudged Sirius at all if he decided to hex Snape, but he had a sneaking suspicion Snape was faster with his spellwork and would probably come out on top, and Harry didn't want to see that.
"Can't Sirius stay and watch? Sir?" he added quickly, hoping to appeal to Snape's better side.
Snape sneered at both of them, but then his eyes flicked about the room and while his expression only became more unpleasant, he did not immediately say no.
"He may remain," Snape said, as if every word was causing him a good deal of pain, "if he agrees to remain silent and not to interfere in any way, no matter how much danger it may seem you are in. I realize that is asking the impossible," he added, sneering at Sirius, "but I will not tolerate interruptions. I am exceedingly busy. I would prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible."
Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "You're mad if you think I'd agree to that, Snivellus. Dumbledore might think you've reformed, but I know better—"
"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" Snape interrupted in a whisper. "Or are you afraid he might take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?"
"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"Speaking of dogs," Snape said very softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in the future, didn't it?"
Sirius snarled and drew his wand.
"Sirius, no!" Harry hissed, shoving Sirius's wand back toward the floor and getting more firmly between them.
"Are you calling me a coward?" Sirius roared, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry wasn't going anywhere.
"Among other things," Snape said with a vicious leer as he pulled out his own wand.
"Harry—get—out—of—it—!" Sirius snarled, pushing Harry out of the way. Harry grabbed at his wand and very nearly pulled it out of his hand as he was pushed aside.
"Knock it off!" Harry exclaimed, getting in between them again. He took a chance by facing Sirius only this time, but so far Snape had only been reacting to Sirius's actions, so Harry felt confident enough that as long as he could keep Sirius from casting any spells, he wouldn't have any fired at his back.
"Get out of the way, Harry, he's had this coming for a long time," Sirius growled out, still trying to get a good line of aim at Snape while Harry kept trying to both grab his wand and shove it out of the way.
Not for the first time, Harry wished he could use magic outside of school. It would be so much simpler to just Disarm Sirius (and maybe Snape too) instead of trying to get him to put away his wand the Muggle way.
"Look, if Dumbledore thinks I need to learn whatever this Occlu—thing is, and Snape's the one teaching me, we're both going to have to suck it up and let him," Harry said, feeling very odd about being the voice of reason for once, especially where Snape was involved. "Dumbledore obviously doesn't care enough to teach me himself, so Snape's all we've got. Right?"
Sirius stared at him for a long moment. Then he slowly lowered his wand. "Of course Dumbledore cares about you, Harry."
Harry snorted softly. "He's got a funny way of showing it."
"Difficult though it may be for you to understand, the headmaster is under no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary for you, Potter," Snape said behind them, "nor must he show you any more attention than he would another student. That is why he has asked me to perform this particular task for him. Now, might I remind you both that we are rather short on time and I have no intention of staying here any longer than my schedule allows. Shall we begin, or will I be forced to hex you, Black? I assure you, nothing would give me more pleasure."
Harry shifted so he was more firmly in front of Sirius and gave him a pleading look. It wasn't that he wanted any extra lessons from Snape, and he would have been perfectly happy to let Snape walk out of here without having done anything at all, never to see him again except during class. However, if this was important enough for Dumbledore to have sent him here for an impromptu lesson outside school, then Harry thought he ought to at least find out what it was he was supposed to be learning. Not to mention that it was generally better to remain as far from Snape's bad side as possible, and going along with what he wanted—for a short time—was the best way to do that.
"He said you could stay," Harry said when it looked like Sirius was still thinking about trying to fling a spell or two.
Sirius continued to stare at him silently for a good long time. Harry could not tell what he might be thinking, though he prepared himself to get out of the way in case he raised his wand again.
Then Sirius growled softly and flung himself into the chair behind him. His wand remained in his hand as he moodily crossed his arms, but he only glared at Snape and said nothing.
"Have a seat, Potter," Snape said silkily behind him.
Harry carefully took his seat again. Snape stepped around his chair and sat down as well, though his wand remained in his hand.
"Now, Occlumency," Snape began as he leaned back in his chair. "As I said before, this is an obscure branch of magic which entails sealing the mind from external intrusion and influence."
"Why does Dumbledore think I need it? Sir?" Harry asked, though his attempt at politeness was probably blunted somewhat when he crossed his arms and leaned back in his own chair. He just didn't appreciate that it seemed that Dumbledore still thought he was being possessed.
Snape eyed him contemptuously for a moment, then said softly, "Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled in Legilimency—"
"And what's that?"
"It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind—"
Harry sat up straight, staring at him in horror. "He can read minds?"
Snape's lip curled back in a sneer. "As usual, you have no sense of subtlety, Potter. You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the short-comings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker."
"Funny, Malfoy's been telling me I do all right when I'm on my own," Harry said, determinedly ignoring the way Sirius jerked when he said that particular name. He could fill Sirius in on his changed relationship with Malfoy later.
"If that were the case, Mr. Malfoy would be spending his time in more worthwhile pursuits than attempting to teach you," Snape said. He paused for a moment before he continued, "Only Muggles talk of 'mind-reading'. The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex, many-layered thing, Potter...or at least, most minds are," he said with a smirk. "It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."
It did not matter how complicated Snape tried to make it, Legilimency sounded an awful lot like mind-reading to Harry, and he did not like the sound of it at all. But it also did not answer the question of why he needed to learn how to block it out, although he could admit that it might be useful to know in the future.
"So he could know what we're thinking right now?"
"The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance, and we are within the walls of a building protected by the Fidelius Charm. Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency. Standing in the same room, even more so."
Harry make a quick mental note to never stare Snape in the eyes again, in that case. And still, none of this explained what they were doing here, although he felt like he was only missing the last piece that would allow him to figure out the answer on his own.
"Then why do I need to learn Occlumency?" he asked after a moment, adding a little too late, "Sir?"
Snape eyed Harry, carefully tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger. The gesture brought to mind another insufferable man with long black hair, and Harry fought back a grin. He had a feeling the two would either hate each other if they ever met, or they would conspire to make his life even more miserable than it already was.
"The usual rules do not seem to apply to you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged a connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable—when you are asleep, for instance—you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. Our lessons will be primarily concerned with closing off your mind from the Dark Lord's."
Harry slowly sat up straight again, staring at him. Here was the missing piece, dangling before him so close he could nearly grab it.
"But it's been useful, hasn't it?" Harry said slowly. "I don't like it much, but if I know what he's thinking, what he's doing...it's helped already, hasn't it? If I hadn't seen that snake attack Mr. Weasley, or his plan for attacking Diagon Alley..."
Snape continued staring at Harry, but his finger had stopped on the middle of his bottom lip. When he spoke again, it was slowly and deliberately and without a hint of the usual sarcasm and scorn that usually adorned his voice when he spoke to Harry.
"It appears that up until recently, the Dark Lord had been unaware of the connection between you and himself, and you were able to share his thoughts and feelings without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had concerning Arthur Weasley represented such a powerful incursion into the Dark Lord's mind that became aware of your presence."
Harry's heart started beating very fast and he felt his mouth go dry. "What the other one? The one after that?"
"That," Snape said slowly, "was undoubtedly a test. The Dark Lord is now certain that you have been gaining access to his thoughts and experiences, but more importantly, he has deduced that the process will work in reverse. That is to say, he has realized that he is able to access your thoughts and feelings in return, and," he added carefully, "that he has already done so earlier in the year."
Harry thought that if he had been standing, his legs might have given out on him. As it was, he felt a bit shaky and sick. He had not even considered that their connection might work the other way.
"Now, wait a minute," Sirius said suddenly, leaning forward in his seat and scowling at Snape, "you haven't said anything about that in the meetings."
Snape immediately transformed back into the sneering man Harry hated and he gave Sirius a particularly vicious look. "That is because the headmaster feels that only a select few people need to know such details, a group which, I am not sorry to say, did not include you."
"What d'you mean, he already has?" Harry asked before Sirius could say anything else. He did not want them to devolve into petty bickering again, not when he was finally going to be getting some answers.
Snape gave Sirius one last sneer before turning back to Harry again. He leaned back in his chair and rested his elbows on the arms, touching his fingertips together in a tent beneath his chin.
"Tell me, Potter, what is your experience like when you share the Dark Lord's emotions?"
Harry stared at him, wondering why he didn't already seem to know, since he thought Dumbledore probably did, and then wondering what this had to do with his question anyway. But if it meant getting a few answers, and maybe helping Snape figure out the best way to teach him to stop all this, then he wasn't going to just not answer.
"My scar hurts, like someone's pressing a brand to it," Harry said, and he couldn't help but raise a hand to rub at his scar as he said it, even though he wasn't feeling any sort of pain at the moment. "It's not as bad as when I'm having nightmares, though. And I can just...feel what he's feeling, and sometimes I know why he's feeling it, but I'm feeling my own emotions too. There was a night when he was really happy, and I couldn't recognize it for what it was right away, because I had detention with Umbridge, so I was feeling pretty miserable myself."
Snape's head had slowly lowered as Harry spoke until his mouth was hidden away behind the tent of his fingers. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking or feeling when Harry had only the rest of his face to look at.
When it seemed Harry had finished, Snape nodded slowly but didn't lower his hands, choosing to speak through them instead. "The Dark Lord has reported a similar phenomenon, though without the warning flare of pain you have experienced, naturally. He, too, has felt emotions that were not his own that he did not identify as such until sometime after experiencing them, generally anger, as I believe that has been the emotion you have felt most strongly this year. As the Dark Lord is often quite...angry himself, he chose to ignore these brief moments and what they could mean, up until his recent discovery of your connection."
Harry thought back to all the times when he had felt particularly angry this year and nearly smiled. Voldemort couldn't have had a very pleasant experience over the last few months, if he'd been feeling all those times Harry had lost his temper.
But as he went over all the times he thought he might have been furious enough for Voldemort to feel it, he came to one that made him pale and sit up straight again. "Er...sir, what about...when I was dueling Malfoy and I..."
He bit his lip and forcefully shook his head. There were some things he did not want to say in front of Sirius, even if he probably already knew about it, and more than that, there were some things he really did not want to consider. He was so sure that Voldemort had not been possessing him, but there was no denying that he had more than lost his temper that night, and his scar had flared with pain, and there was definitely a moment that he still could not remember, even after several months.
Snape regarded him silently over his fingers for a moment, then he slowly dropped his hands to his lap. "You are aware of what the headmaster believes may have happened that night, I'm sure."
Harry's hands clenched into fists at his side. "He thinks I've been possessed, doesn't he?"
"That is among his list of possibilities," Snape said slowly, as though he were once again testing each word to make sure it was the right one before he let it out. "However, I believe that, in light of what we have learned since the night of the eighteenth, we have a somewhat different theory of what may have occurred."
Harry felt his breath catch, but he told himself firmly that it was stupid to think that Snape might be on his side about anything. He still couldn't help but ask, "So...you don't think that's what it was? Sir?"
"I think that possession might be an extremely simple and mostly inaccurate term for what occurred that night," Snape said, though he sounded a bit reluctant to actually admit that. "It is...possible that in your moment of intense emotion, your mind connected to the Dark Lord's and he did act through you, but I do not believe it to have been a conscious decision to do so on his part. It may have only been an extraordinarily strong suggestion, not unlike the effects of the Imperious Curse, which took hold of you because of your unique connection to his mind."
"But he's still making me do things," Harry concluded, clenching his fists on his knees. Maybe it wasn't actually possession—and now that he had heard Snape's take on it, he was even more sure that it hadn't been—but that didn't mean this other theory sounded any better. Even if all that had happened was Voldemort's thoughts not just leaking through but actually affecting his own, it still might as well have been Voldemort in his head, making him do things.
And then there was what Snape had said before, which was the whole reason he was supposed to learn Occlumency in the first place. "And...if he's realized we have this connection...next time it actually might be possession..."
Sirius jerked a bit in his chair, but Snape only nodded, looking completely unconcerned. "It might. Which brings us back to Occlumency."
Snape languidly got to his feet and beckoned Harry to follow as he made his way between the chairs and out into the centre of the large room. As Harry got up, Sirius reached out and grabbed his hand; he gave it a brief squeeze accompanied by a bracing smile. Harry tried to smile back and managed something closer to a grimace before he turned away and reluctantly followed Snape into the open space. He came to a stop a couple feet from his chair and warily eyed the wand that was still held loosely in Snape's hand.
"Take out your wand, Potter," Snape instructed, and Harry gladly did so. "You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of."
"What are you going to do?" Harry asked nervously as he raised his wand. Any other time, he would have enjoyed having an opportunity to hex Snape and not be immediately punished for it. Now, however, the fact that Snape was expecting him to feel a need to retaliate made him uneasy.
"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," Snape said quietly, raising his own wand. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperious Curse...You will find that similar powers are needed for this...Brace yourself now...Legilimens!"
Snape moved so quickly that Harry had no time to react, much less prepare himself for whatever was about to happen. A pressure like a wind bore down on his mind and carried him off into a stream of images, while Snape and the room around them faded away out of view.
He was five, sitting awkwardly in a corner of the festively decorated sitting room, watching Dudley open present after present with jealousy burning in his heart...He was standing before a glass window with a gigantic snake lounging behind it while he asked it whether it had liked Brazil and it pointed out that it had never been there...He was sitting on a stool with the Sorting Hat on his head, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin...He watched as a snake shot out of Draco Malfoy's wand and landed angrily before him, and Snape began to stride forward to take care of it...He watched through the front windows of Honeydukes as Malfoy and Christopher strolled down the street toward The Three Broomsticks...Sanguini was standing before him in a dark, curtained room—
No, whispered a panicked voice in Harry's head, get out, you can't see that, get out, GET OUT—
"Harry!"
A hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him violently just as he felt himself try to move and strike out at Snape—both actions together were enough to knock him off balance and send him tumbling to the ground. The hand stayed on his shoulder, and when the room stopped spinning, he looked over to find Sirius there, glaring furiously at Snape. Harry followed his gaze to find Snape carefully passing his wand over a deep gash in his arm.
"What the hell was that?" Sirius demanded, looking about a fraction of a second away from pulling his wand out again.
Snape ignored him, his attention focused only healing the slash on his arm. Only once the cut was sufficiently healed did he look up again, eyeing Harry with a calculating gaze. "Did you mean to produce a Severing Charm?"
"No," Harry muttered bitterly. He carefully pried Sirius's hand from his shoulder and gave it a squeeze of his own as he shakily stood up again.
"I thought not," Snape said, looking as though he might like to mock Harry for it if he did not already had something else on his mind. "You allowed me to get in too far. You lost control."
"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer and it made his stomach squirm nervously.
"Flashes of it," Snape said quietly. His eyes narrowed at Harry and his voice dropped dangerously low as he murmured, "How many dreams about the Dark Lord have you had, Potter?"
Sirius jerked next to him and he could feel his stare begin boring into the side of his head. Harry hardly even noticed; he was too busy staring at Snape while his stomach rose in his throat.
It had taken Snape's words to realize that the last flash of memory had not, in fact, been in his bedroom on Private Drive, which was what he had thought at first and had been the reason for his violent retaliation on Snape. No, that had been a memory of the very first vision he had experienced from Voldemort's point of view, the one he could not remember clearly afterward but had made him feel ill all the same. It did not make him feel any less ill thinking about it now.
Sanguini had mentioned that he had recently been near enough to Voldemort to inspect his wand, but Harry had not thought him to be that vampire. That vampire had said that he was always considering Voldemort's offer to join him, and Sanguini had never seemed anything but contemptuous toward the Dark Lord. Harry didn't think he was actually trying to play both sides, as he'd seemed fairly contemptuous to Voldemort's face too, but knowing that didn't make him any less uncomfortable.
If nothing else, he certainly had a good reason to call up Sanguini tonight.
But now that he knew for sure who had been visiting Voldemort in that particular dram, he had a serious dilemma. It was possible Dumbledore already knew about that vision—Ron had witnessed that one, and they had discussed it with Hermione, and either of them could have gone to Dumbledore out of concern—but then, if Dumbledore knew about it, he thought he would have shared that information with Snape, as Snape would be the one trying to prevent any more. That Snape was now asking how many visions he had actually had suggested that he had not known about this one. And this one, like his vision of Christopher, was one he was now desperate to keep as secret as possible.
Actually, he felt that he might have been slightly less panicked if Snape had seen his vision of Christopher instead. He liked and appreciated Christopher, but Sanguini meant considerably more to him, and besides, he was not associated with Voldemort in anyone's minds yet and Harry wanted to keep it that way.
But the fact remained that Snape had seen it and he would not be able to hide while Snape was digging around in his mind if he gave Snape a reason to go looking.
"Only that one and the two just before Christmas," Harry said finally, although he was careful not to meet Snape's eyes.
Snape looked as though he did not believe that in the slightest, but he didn't demand that Harry tell the truth; perhaps he, too, thought there would be little need for that when he could just lift the real answer out of Harry's mind.
"Well, for a first attempt, that was not as poor as it might have been," Snape said after a moment as he raised his wand again. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."
"Maybe if you actually told him how, he'd have a better chance of—" Sirius growled out next to him, but with a flick of his wand, Snape Silenced him and cut off the rest of his angry rant.
"I warned you, Black, that I will not tolerate interruptions or distractions," Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously. "I may not have the authority to order you out of a room in your own house, but I will gladly hex you to keep you still and silent, if you give me reason to."
Sirius barred his teeth and flashed Snape a rude gesture that would have made Mrs. Weasley hex his fingers off. Then he turned on his heel and stalked away, probably so he would not be tempted to curse Snape right back, since they were still in the middle of an impromptu lesson.
Harry glared at Snape, fighting back a temptation to cross his arms too. He would need his wand hand free so he could defend himself. "He's right, you know. Sir," he added quickly when Snape's eyes flashed dangerously. "You haven't told me how I'm supposed to stop you."
"It was unnecessary for the purposes of that first test," Snape said. "Now...I want you to close your eyes."
Harry shot him an extremely distrustful look before doing as he was told. If Sirius had not been in the room, he thought he might not have obeyed at all; he did not trust Snape enough to be in a room alone with him while Snape was armed and he had his eyes closed.
"Clear your mind, Potter," said Snape's cold voice. "Let go of all emotion."
Harry very nearly opened his eyes again just to give Snape another dirty look. Let go of his anger and fear? Snape might as well have asked him to go on living without breathing. Even if Snape wasn't in the same room as him, he didn't think he could have managed it.
"You're not doing it, Potter...You will need more discipline than this...Focus, now..."
Harry took a deep breath and tried very hard to think about nothing—especially not about how Snape was likely raising his wand again right at this moment—to remember absolutely nothing, to feel nothing except perhaps his breathing...
"On the count of three...one...two...three—Legilimens!"
A hundred dementors were drifting across the lake toward him...A tall, dark-haired boy twirled Harry's wand between his fingers and only smiled when Harry asked for it back...Cedric Diggory was laying on the ground, staring up at him with blank eyes...
"NOOOOOOO!"
He found himself on the floor again, kneeling with his hands grasping at his hair. His head was aching, pounding in time with the quickened beating of his heart, enough to make him feel ill all by itself.
"Get up!" Snape said sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"
Harry slowly pushed himself to his feet. He was shaking horribly, and he felt as though he might be ill, and as though he needed to squint to see through the pounding in his head. He had not dreamt about the graveyard in months, not since Sanguini had first visited him, and since he had seen Sanguini's memories of Cedric, it had been easier to think about that night while he was awake. Now he felt as though he had just been there, except now he felt like he had just watched a good friend get killed before his eyes, rather than a friendly acquaintance.
"Harry?" Sirius murmured, grabbing his elbow to help him stay upright. He must have freed himself from Snape's spell and come back over to look out for him while Snape had been in his head.
Harry felt a burst of gratitude for Sirius in that moment, and not just because his legs felt like gelatine. "I'm all right."
"You can wait until you're back at school to do any more, if it's too much," Sirius said, sounding worried, if a bit reluctant to let Harry wait.
Harry shook his head, which only made him dizzy on top of everything else, and looked back up at Snape. "It's fine. I need to do this."
Snape was watching them with an odd look on his face, which was a bit paler than usual. When Harry met his eyes again, his lips curled in a more usual sneer.
"Yes, you do, and you are making no effort to succeed," he snapped. "I told you to clear your mind, empty it of all emotion!"
Harry bristled with anger and tugged his arm free of Sirius's grip, even though it made him waver on the spot. "Yeah? Well, I'm find that a bit difficult right now."
"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord," Snape snarled, raising his wand again. "It is your emotions which connect you most strongly to his mind. While you allow your emotions to flare unchecked and uncontrolled, while you wallow in sad memories and allow yourself to be provoked this easily, you will remain helpless before his powers!"
"I'm trying!" Harry snarled back. "D'you think I like the idea of Voldemort in my head—"
"Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" hissed Snape.
Harry blinked at him. He was used to that sort of reaction from most everyone else, but he had never thought of Snape as one of those people who would be afraid of a name.
"Professor Dumbledore says his name," Harry said quietly. Nor was he the only one, Harry mused, thinking of Lupin and Sirius and Sanguini.
"Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard," Snape muttered. "While he may feel secure enough to use the name...the rest of us..."
"Worried your old mate might find out and get upset?" Sirius leered, looking supremely satisfied by this particular conversation. Of course, this was one area where he was one up on Snape, so he probably thought he had a right to dig it in.
Snape snarled and flicked his wand at Sirius again. This time, however, Sirius had his own wand in his hand, and he lazily blocked the spell before it could hit him. With a grin, he sent one of his own flying, but Snape was ready for it; he twirled his wand in a complicated twisting motion and the jet of light turned in midair and went flying back at Sirius.
"Protego!" Harry said loudly, getting between them. The redirected spell bounced harmlessly away from them into the wall.
Both older wizards glared at him. Harry didn't particularly care. Was Snape really trying to lecture him on controlling his emotions when he couldn't even do it himself long enough to teach for an hour?
"Shouldn't we get back to the lesson, sir?" Harry asked tersely.
The look Snape gave him would have made him take a step back if he wasn't so angry himself. But after a moment, Snape nodded once and said in a voice deathly quiet, "Once more, Potter. Prepare yourself. Legilimens!"
A dark, hooded creature stood in the doorway of the train compartment, sucking all the warmth from the room with a low, rattling breath...He was running along a windowless passage with Mr. Weasley...They were drawing nearer to the plain black door at the end of the corridor...Harry thought they would go through it...but Mr. Weasley led him off down a set of steps to the left...
"I know! I KNOW!" Harry exclaimed and he abruptly started laughing with relief and delight. His scar seared painfully, but he only felt even more exalted and he ignored it.
He only laughed for a few moments, but that was enough. When he looked up from his position on the floor (again), Snape was staring at him with an inscrutable look on his face. His wand was still raised. He must have lifted the spell before Harry had even attempted to fight back.
"What happened just then, Potter?" Snape asked, eyeing Harry intently.
Harry did not answer as he pushed himself to his feet again. He was still savouring his moment of stark realization and the welcome and long missed feeling of delight that had followed.
He had been dreaming about that windowless corridor for months without realizing it was a real place. Now that he had seen the memory again, he knew that he had been dreaming about the corridor down to the courtrooms and the Department of Mysteries the whole time. He had even realized it had been familiar when he had run down it with Mr. Weasley on the way to his hearing. And now that it was fresh and clear in his mind, he realized, too, that it was the same corridor where Mr. Weasley had been attacked by the giant snake.
He absently rubbed at his scar as he finally looked up and met Snape's eyes. "What's in the Department of Mysteries?"
"What did you say?" Snape asked quietly and Harry saw, with deep satisfaction, that he was unnerved.
"I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, sir?"
"And why," said Snape slowly, "would you ask such a thing?"
"Because," Harry said, watch Snape closely for a reaction, "that corridor I've just seen—I've been dreaming about it for months—I've just recognized it—it leads to the Department of Mysteries...I think there's something Voldemort wants in there—"
"I have told you not to say the Dark Lord's name!" Snape hissed.
Harry glared at him. His scar seared white hot again, but he only rubbed at it a bit more and ignored it. Snape looked agitated, a far different sort of agitated than he had so far, and Harry knew that he possessed the answers he had sought for months. He was not going give something else his attention now.
But then Sirius stepped up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He, too, looked unnerved, but he did not also look angry, like Snape, but rather extremely concerned.
"I think that's enough practise for one day. Don't you, Snape?" Sirius said, sounding a bit strained at having to be cordial to his mortal enemy, but forcing himself through it nonetheless.
To Harry's amazement, Snape nodded in agreement and lowered his wand. "I've done what I came for." He regarded Harry silently for a moment as he slipped his wand back into his sleeve, then said quietly, "There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you. Do I make myself plain?"
Harry frowned at him, but he was already treading on dangerous ground, so he only nodded in response. Maybe once Snape was gone, he could ask Sirius and actually get an answer.
"I will expect you in my office at six o'clock, the evening we resume classes," Snape said, making a serious effort to act as though nothing had happened in the last few minutes to make him lose his composure at all. "If anybody asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes would deny you need them. In the meantime—"
"Hold on," Harry interrupted, a bit surprised by how alarmed he felt by this, "what about Malfoy? He's supposed to be teaching me extra Potions. What are we supposed to say, that you're both teaching me?"
Snape's mouth curled into another sneer and his eyes flashed dangerously, no doubt for being interrupted. "It makes little difference to me what excuse you decide to use. Mr. Malfoy could be meeting you for any number of reasons, and he is quite intelligent enough to come up with another one. However, as there is no other acceptable reason for you to be taking extra classes with me, I'm afraid I will have to take over for him."
He had a very good point, and it was one Harry had not missed, but that was not a conversation he was looking forward to having with Malfoy, not the least because he actually didn't mind learning Potions from Malfoy but Malfoy might not think he'd need two sets of extra lessons. He probably shouldn't tell Malfoy what the lessons were actually going to be about, after all.
"Now, as I was saying," Snape said, his eyes flashing dangerously, daring Harry to interrupt him again, "in the meantime, I expect you to practise. You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep—empty it, make it blank and calm. If you can find the time, do the same for several minutes each day; however, it is of vital importance that you practice each night before falling asleep. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Harry said, dreading the very idea. He doubted he would be able to calm his whirling emotions any easier while he was lying in bed; that was usually when he brooded the most.
Snape narrowed his eyes slightly, like he knew exactly what Harry was thing—which, Harry thought, he actually probably did. This Legilimency thing explained an awful lot about Snape's past actions, now that he thought about it.
"Be warned, Potter. I shall know if you have not practised..." Snape said softly.
And with that word of warning, he turned and strode out of the room, he robes billowing dramatically behind him as they always did.
"Well," Sirius said, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder just a little too heavily, "glad that's over with. Shall we go down and see how dinner's coming along?"
"Sirius," Harry said, looking up at him with a hopeful gaze, "what's in the Department of Mysteries?"
Sirius paled and he looked furtively away toward the door. "Harry..."
"You won't tell me either?" Harry said furiously. He'd thought that surely Sirius would let him on a secret or two.
Sirius sighed heavily, and while he looked like he did want to tell Harry something, he still shook his head. "Loathe as I am to admit it, Harry, I agree with Snivellus on this one. It's nothing you need to know about."
Harry angrily shrugged Sirius's hand off his shoulder. "That's all anyone will tell me. 'Oh, you don't need to know, Harry, it's not as if it's your life on the line—'"
Sirius smiled bitterly and squatted down in front of Harry, placing his hand back on Harry's shoulder, though his touch was light this time and would have been much easier to escape from if Harry had cared to. "I know it's frustrating for you. Trust me, I know better than anyone what it's like to feel left out of this fight. But if it was really something you needed to know, you'd know about it, all right? I'd tell you myself."
That couldn't be all it was. Sirius still looked as though it was his dearest wish to tell Harry something, anything, other than what he was saying right then. Something other than whether he thought Harry should know was keeping him from saying whatever it was. But Harry could also tell there would be no arguing with him, not if he was already forcing himself to keep quiet about whatever it was about Harry's question that had made both he and Snape balk.
It infuriated Harry, of course, like a lot of things did these days, but more than that, it made Harry intensely curious. Obviously there was something important in the Department of Mysteries, something Voldemort wanted very much, and he was going to find out what it was.
But not from Sirius, apparently.
"Yeah, all right," Harry muttered, crossing his arms.
Sirius gave him another weak smile and squeezed his shoulder as he stood up. "We won't be left out forever, Harry. We'll just have to be patient."
"Sanguini, what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked as soon as the mirror came to life that night.
Sanguini looked startled for a moment, probably at nearly being pounced on by this question, which then turned into quiet amusement. "What would make you think I would know such a thing?"
Harry shrugged awkwardly and tugged his covers more firmly over his head. "I don't really have anyone else to ask."
Harry knew better than to try to ask Snape again, and while he thought Sirius would be the most likely to eventually break down and tell him whatever it was that no one wanted to know, he had smoothly avoided the subject for the rest of the day after his Occlumency lesson. Lupin had been similarly tight-lipped as the both of them when Harry had managed to corner him after dinner. He doubted Mrs. Weasley would be any help at all, given that she had never wanted him to know as much as he did already, and he did not feel comfortable discussing his Occlumency lessons or his dreams with the twins and Ginny, so he had not bothered asking any of them.
And while Ron and Hermione had offered some insight into why Snape and Sirius had both nearly panicked when he'd asked this question of them—that the wizards who worked in the Department of Mysteries, the Unspeakables, were immensely secretive and told no one what they got up to, and so it would be the perfect place to hide or develop the weapon Voldemort was searching for—neither of them knew any more than he did what could be in there.
Sanguini shook his head, an amused smile dancing across his lips. "I'm afraid I can't help you, Harry. I haven't the slightest idea what could be in that particular Department. It was named for a reason."
Harry let out his breath in a gusty sigh. He had thought that it might be a long shot, but Sanguini knew all sorts of things, so why not this too? Although now that Harry thought about it, whatever went on in the Department of Mysteries was probably included in the wizard magic that Sanguini didn't bother to look into much.
"All right," he said, finally relaxing a bit in his disappointment. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask, anyway. Maybe Malfoy's got some idea..."
"What spurred this sudden interest into the Department of Mysteries?" Sanguini asked.
"Oh, that has to do with the other thing I had to tell you. The corridor that leads to it—I've been dreaming about it for months, and there's something in there Voldemort really wants. I only realized it today, while Snape was digging through my head. He's going to be teaching me Occlumency this term; Dumbledore thinks it should keep Voldemort..." He trailed off, holding the mirror out a bit. Sanguini had nearly knocked over his chair in his rush to stand up, his friendly amusement switching to alarm so quickly Harry wondered if he'd hurt himself.
"...What is it?" he asked cautiously.
"Harry, you must learn to close your mind immediately!" Sanguini hissed in a low, urgent voice that Harry had only heard once, in his memory of meeting with Cedric before the Third Task. It took Harry a moment to realize it was shot through with fear, and he nearly sat upright with his own alarm.
"I'm going to try," Harry said quietly, staring at him. "But it might take a while, and I don't know how good I'll be at it."
"I will help you," Sanguini said impatiently. "I will ensure you succeed, against Severus Snape at very least. You must not allow him to search through your mind again."
"Not Voldemort?" Harry said, since that was the whole reason Snape would be digging through his brain in the first place.
Sanguini waved a hand impatiently. "Voldemort, yes, him as well, although I have my doubts as to how well Occlumency would be able to block him out of your mind. I have been prepared for the possibility that he might learn of our relationship since you told me of your connection to him."
"You don't think it'll work?" Harry asked. Then what was the point of trying to learn it?
"I have very little idea whether it will work or not," Sanguini said, starting to look a bit annoyed. "If Dumbledore is the one who thinks it might, than it very well might. However, Voldemort is an extremely talented Legilimens and a not untalented Occlumens, and he hasn't kept you out."
"Snape said he didn't know I was sharing his thoughts until a couple weeks ago," Harry said.
"With his level of skill, his mind should have been guarded from outside intrusion regardless of whether he was consciously aware of it." He let out an irritated sigh and shook his head. "But that is not the point. Voldemort is a known factor; we can plan around him. You cannot let anyone else into your head any more than is necessary. He will find things." Sanguini's eyes deepened in colour and his voice was a bit strained as he murmured, "He may have already found something."
Harry found himself begin to nod before he realized exactly why. But then he remembered the memory of one of his visions that Snape had called up in his attack—the memory of Sanguini meeting with Voldemort—and he realized why, exactly, Sanguini was nearly having a panic attack of his own.
It wasn't such a big deal that Snape had seen that particular memory. He had not made a big deal of it at the time, so he wasn't sure who knew about it and who didn't, but he thought someone probably did, since he had shared that one with Ron and Hermione. Snape could very well have been one of the few who already knew it was in there somewhere, even if it hadn't seemed like it. And that particular memory had only been a vision of Sanguini speaking to someone else, a meeting which Harry would not have been surprised to learn the Order also already knew about.
But that had hardly been the only time he had seen Sanguini, and every other time had been in person, along with all the other vampires he had met over the summer. In fact, Snape had already come dangerously close to seeing those memories. He had seen the other occasion in which Harry had been near a vampire in person.
"Dumbledore already knows about what happened during the summer," Harry said slowly, sure that could not be the only problem here. "Remember, I told you Lupin's known the whole time. And Mad-Eye knows. Snape probably does too; Dumbledore trusts him an awful lot."
"But they are not aware that our relationship has extended beyond the summer," Sanguini murmured, his eyes glinting dangerously in a way that reminded Harry uncomfortably of Snape, so soon after he had spent a fair amount of time talking to the man. "And imagine if a memory of that little note you sent me swam to the surface. I suspect Dumbledore would not like to learn his little lion is not so tame after all."
Harry smiled a bit, but it was strained and didn't last long. That, and any conversations he'd had about it, was definitely not something he wanted Snape to find. He didn't want Voldemort to find it either, but at least Voldemort stood a good chance of only being amused by it.
Dumbledore might have chosen to ignore him so far, but Harry doubted that would last long if he actually knew everything, even if he still didn't do anything directly and chose to act through others.
"Sanguini," Harry said carefully, "my first Occlumency lesson was a disaster..."
Sanguini smiled and waved his hand again. "I told you that I'll help you. I'm quite talented in the mental arts too, you know."
Harry smiled a bit. He hadn't quite forgotten that Sanguini had told him he had looked through his memories that first night (he was still a bit annoyed about that), and he had definitely not forgotten how Sanguini had rid him of his nightmares for several weeks either (which he was still quite thankful for).
"Now, as your visions most often come while you are asleep, I assume you were told to practice at night while you're in bed?" Sanguini said, and Harry nodded. "Then I would like you to close your eyes and relax."
Harry shifted so he was a bit more comfortable where he lay and happily closed his eyes. He had no problem letting down his guard around Sanguini, particularly when the man was not even in the room with him.
"I am going to guide you through making your mind blank and calm. I know it will probably be difficult for you," he said, sounding as though he might have been smirking as he said it, "but it is the first step to becoming a successful Occlumens. We will create an environment where, even if Voldemort enters your mind, he will find nothing there to use against you."
"Voldemort!" Harry exclaimed and his eyes flew open again; he had just remembered the other thing he had been meaning to bring up before Sanguini had distracted both of them. "It was you! You're the one who met him on Halloween."
Sanguini stared at him for a moment, plainly wondering why he was bringing this up now, but then he nodded once and said mildly, "I did say I had an opportunity to speak with him in person."
Harry shook his head and stared back at him. "You said you had someone else to follow, who'd show you something better than he could. You knew back then what I was going to do, even though I didn't yet..."
Sanguini's eyes glittered with amusement and leaned close to his own mirror. "Forgive me, Harry, but in some things, you are quite a predictable creature. Now, close your eyes and relax. Focus only on your breathing..."