Hi Everyone! I just want to give a huge thank you to all of my reviewers. You guys really give me the motivation to keep writing as often as I can. And to all those guest reviewers I can't respond too: Know that I appreciate your comments as well. Some of my best reviews have been guest reviews. Without further ado, please enjoy!
Chapter 16
Suddenly overcome by the force of something invisible slamming into him, Harry reeled backwards. He noticed someone grab his wrist and steady him but was only aware of it from a distance. As if he was watching it happen to someone else.
The vision of Snape's office had vanished as soon as the man had cast his spell. Now all he could see was the visual he had tried working with. Him standing atop that pillar as the wind rushed past him. It was, however, not as peaceful as he had hoped it would be. Instead, the platform beneath his feet quaked and shuddered and he dropped to his hands and knees to keep himself from falling over.
It lasted a few seconds at most before his foothold was shattered and Harry plummeted to earth. Only, there was no earth to plummet to. More wind rushed past his ears as he fell, the feeling of calm he had experienced before turning to one of fear. He clenched his eyes shut and stretched out his arms in front of him as if they would be able to stop the impact from killing him.
Only vaguely did he remember that this was not reality.
And then his descent slowed down significantly and he was almost floating. Darkness surrounded him as he hung there, suspended in the air. His right foot drooped a bit lower than his left and as Harry watched, it touched the surface of what appeared to be a black lake, causing three circles of illuminated ripples as it did.
Did it… work?
The darkness around him suddenly seemed to rush past him as well, streaks of light the only thing to give him the idea that he was moving at all even if his clothes and hair stayed firmly in place. And then, he was plunged headfirst into a memory as the darkness swivelled to reveal a moving picture as if Harry was in the middle of a movie, watching the scene unfold around him. He was watching a much younger version of himself talk to Hermione and Ron, right here at Hogwarts. He strained to listen to what the conversation was about.
"Do you think it's possible?" younger Harry asked. "That someone does things – bad things – without being aware of them?"
"I don't think so, Harry," Hermione said confidently. "And I don't think you believe that either."
Ah, I remember this one. Second year. The Chamber of Secrets.
Desist from admiring the scenery and attempt to push me out.
Harry nearly jumped as he heard Snape's commanding voice reverberate all around him. He blinked as he glanced around, realising that he couldn't see Snape anywhere. Yet Snape was obviously able to see him. That is, the manifestation of him. Or what was he supposed to call this?
"Everyone else seems to believe it," younger Harry said wryly. "I didn't even know that talking to snakes was evil!"
"I wouldn't say 'evil' exactly," Ron said, sounding not too sure. "It's just that there aren't too many known cases of good wizards speaking Parseltongue. I can't actually think of a single one that wasn't a Slytherin."
But if Harry couldn't actually see Snape, how was he supposed to push him out? He now tried his best to ignore the old memory playing out and focused on finding Snape's presence.
The surrounding hallways and portraits suddenly started spinning in a whirlwind of colour until nothing was recognisable anymore. They kept spinning for a while more until they slowed down and reformed into a picture of the great hall.
Harry saw himself standing among a troop of first years waiting for the sorting hat to be placed on their heads. He looked so small. So new to all of this. He had only known that he was a wizard for about a month.
Young Harry sat down on the stool and the sorting hat was placed on his head, slipping past his ears.
Oh, no…
He didn't want Snape to see this particular moment.
Then push me out, Potter. Focus on my presence and fight me!
The entire Great Hall had quieted down except for a few hissed whispers. Present time Harry groaned as he remembered how much pressure he had felt about his house. How everyone expected him to be in theirs. How Dumbledore probably wished him to be a Gryffindor.
"Hmmm," He heard the hat say and knew for sure that Snape could hear the same. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, Ah my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"
Shut up, Shut up!
Not at all knowing what he was doing, Harry started concentrating. He needed to push Snape out. This memory might not be one of the worst he had. Far from it actually but it did help shape him into who he was today. And he wasn't sure how Snape would feel if he saw Harry's blatant dislike for Slytherin from the moment he stepped foot into Hogwarts.
But, of course, how could he stop it? No one ever told him how.
"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," he heard himself beg the hat.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" the hat replied. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."
"Get out!" present Harry exclaimed. But it was no use. Everyone, including Snape, had witnessed what happened next as the hat shouted, "Better be - Gryffindor!"
Well, shit.
The Great Hall vanished in a whirl of colours much as it had appeared and Harry wondered if another memory would surface. But the colours didn't reform. Instead, they just vanished into nothingness and Harry was once more plunged into that floaty darkness. It only lasted for a moment because soon he found himself evicted from his own mind. He opened his eyes to find himself back in Snape's office, the man's dark eyes staring at him quite emotionless.
"So," Harry said uneasily. "I think air is not it."
"Indeed," Snape replied, staring at Harry.
"Yeah, so…" Harry trailed off, not really sure of what he was to say or do at that moment.
After a moment more, Snape got up, breaking the awkwardness and walked to his bookshelf. He scanned the titles quickly, before grabbing the spine of a very old-looking but well-cared-for tome. He thrust it towards Harry and waited until the boy accepted it. Curiously, Harry read the title.
'A guide to Occlumency: Understanding the maze of the mind.'
"I realise that you don't quite understand the concept of how to force someone from your mind," Snape said coolly as if blaming Harry for it.
Only because a certain git didn't see fit to explain.
"Read the first two chapters so that we may try again tomorrow," Snape continued. "I would also like to point out that air was not well-chosen indeed, and you should, therefore, decide on another element to try."
Thanks, Captain Obvious.
"Now then," Snape said, taking a seat behind his desk. "As we have some time left, and we don't need your peers to think your remedial potion lesson was cut short, I would like to discuss a few things with you."
Let me guess; Tell me, Potter, why do you think my house to be unworthy of your celebrity self, hm?
Harry huffed indignantly, not looking forward to any kind of heart to heart Snape had in mind but decided that it would not do well to spark the ire of the older and far more powerful wizard. He took a seat across from Snape and sat stiffly against the chair's hard back. He half-expected Snape to conjure a tea set or something but that didn't happen. Instead, Snape steepled his fingers and regarded Harry as if he was some sort of interesting flobberworm that wasn't quite as wriggly as your usual specimen.
"Explain to me the reasoning behind that first memory, Mr Potter," Snape ordered.
Harry frowned. The first memory? What could possibly have been incriminating about that one?
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, sir," Harry said carefully.
Snape narrowed his eyes. "Quite simply put, why did you see that particular memory?"
"It's not as if it was a conscious decision," Harry replied. "How would I know what prompted it?"
"I would assume that you know your own mind," Snape said in a tone of voice that he sometimes used to talk down to his most dumb witted of students. "Whatever has been on your mind of late would have prompted that memory." That's when Snape's voice turned a tad darker. "Have you been revisiting the chamber of secrets, perhaps?"
"No, absolutely not!" Harry denied vehemently. "No, I think it's just to do with the disappearance of Lisa Turpin. You know, since Ginny was taken as well at the end."
"Is that so?" Snape asked, not sounding entirely convinced.
"Yes," Harry said. It was the truth, he thought. Not that he had put all that much thought into it. After all, Snape only now informed him that the memories were a direct result of his recent thought pattern. The big thing, though, was probably the fact that he had felt responsible back then and had the same feeling right now. He still thought it was very possible that he was somehow connected to this recent disappearance. Not that he was about to tell Snape any of that.
"But I have no idea what was the cause of the second memory," Harry then mused. He had definitely not been thinking about his house in any way of late.
"That was probably due to Mr Weasley's last words in the first one," Snape drawled. Memories do tend to spark others quite involuntarily. That's how a skilled Legilimens is able to find vital information in your mind if only they know what they are looking for."
"Oh," came Harry's less-than-eloquent reply.
"I'm curious," Snape said dangerously. "Is there any reason in particular why you deigned it necessary to convince the hat to not place you in Slytherin? It's not as if you desperately wanted to be placed in Gryffindor, as I understood it. Oh no, as long as you could avoid my house, isn't that right?"
Harry frowned. "There's really no need to take it so personally," he said softly. "I hadn't even met you yet back then."
But if I had, I would have begged three times as hard.
"If you, even for a moment, think that I would take personal affront as to your imbecilic decisions, you are sorely mistaken," Snape said dryly. "But one tends to wonder what prompted such intense dislike in a student that had never even heard of the houses until likely that same day."
"Malfoy," Harry blurted out without really thinking about it.
Snape raised that damnable eyebrow in response. "Explain," he prompted.
"I honestly don't see what any of this has to do with Occlumency," Harry then blurted out. "What do you care my reasons are for anything I do or did?"
"Quite a lot, I would think," Snape replied easily. "By understanding your thought pattern, however impetuous, I will be able to guide you much more effectively."
Harry was doubtful. "Is that even true?" he asked.
Snape sighed. "Unfortunately for the both of us, learning Occlumency does require a certain degree of trust and understanding between student and master," he explained. "You can attempt to learn without these things but I assure you that it will be all the more difficult."
Yet I don't see you revealing your secrets to me, Harry thought in annoyance.
"Let's try this again, shall we?" Snape then asked. "What about Mr Malfoy caused you to deny Slytherin even then?"
Harry sighed in surrender. "His entire demeanour, I think," he said. "He told me that Ron was the wrong sort of friend. Just because he was poor and has many siblings." Harry snorted at the memory. "Anyone that feels that way about family and their financial state could never be friends with me in the first place. And I knew from when I met him back at Diagon Alley that he wanted to be in Slytherin."
Harry shrugged, wishing that Snape had conjured a pot of tea. "Ron said his entire family was in Gryffindor and that he was likely to end up there as well. He was the first friend I ever made…"
Realising what he just said, he glanced at Snape, expecting some sort of deriding sneer or comment but when none came, he continued. "I wanted to stick by him. Especially against the sort of bullying behaviour that I was… well… all too familiar with."
"Am I to believe that without Mr Malfoy's interference, you might have wound up in my house?" Snape asked.
"You heard the hat, sir," Harry replied. "What do you think?"
"I think you should have let the hat do its job," Snape said simply. "I am relatively sure that I would have picked up on what has been going on in that infernal muggle house much sooner had you been sorted appropriately."
Harry flushed and looked away.
Like that would have mattered. When Dumbledore says no, the answer is no.
Snape sighed. "Mr Potter," he said, a tad softer than before. "Have you thought about my earlier comments? Have you talked to anyone as I suggested?"
Harry wanted to lie. He wanted to tell Snape that he had hashed it all out with Hermione and Ron and that there was nothing to worry about. But the man was clever. He doubted that anyone could pull the wool over his eyes even if they were a full-fledged Slytherin. McGonagall was much easier to fool, he imagined. Just smile brightly every time she asks a personal question and you're off the hook. But Snape – well – he was disgustingly perceptive at times.
"No," Harry admitted, thinking there was nothing else for it. "There's really nothing to tell."
"Isn't there?" Snape asked. "I admit that I have no idea of what transpired during my absence on that last infernal day, seeing how you didn't wish to inform me, but it's painfully obvious that it rattled you."
"It didn't rattle me," Harry denied.
"No?" Snape asked. "I suppose that is why you spouted that horribly transparent monologue at Professor Umbridge, essentially accusing her of a desire to attack you in some form? I suppose that's simply how you greet every new teacher that crosses your path."
Harry sighed. "She was being unreasonable," he said.
Snape's eyes gleamed knowingly. "That's not a first, I think," he said. "Yet you've never openly defied a professor in quite that capacity."
"Maybe it was a long time coming, alright?" Harry snapped. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure himself why he had gone off like that. At that point, Umbridge hadn't even made him write in his own blood yet. All she had done was deny Harry's claims about Voldemort and Merlin knew that she was not the only one to do that.
"Professor Umbridge aside, I must insist that you speak with someone," Snape said matter-of-factly.
Harry snorted indignantly. "And who do you propose I should talk to?" he asked angrily. "I can't talk to my godfather since he's a wanted criminal, plus he would probably kill my relatives if he had an inkling of what was going on there. Dumbledore doesn't care and I'm not about to go complain to anyone else. With everything that's going on, it's a minor thing to worry about."
Harry didn't want to name it as it was. Abuse, Snape would call it. He hated that word and was not about to give the eerie man in front of him more fodder.
"I assure you that your head of house would not consider the matter 'minor', Mr Potter," Snape said softly.
Damn it, how do I get him off my back?
"I'll think about it, okay?" he huffed, hoping that was enough.
Snape narrowed his eyes again. "It is most decidedly not okay," he said. "Don't you think I realise when you're trying to manage me? I can't say I much appreciate the effort."
Harry was slightly taken aback. "I meant no disrespect sir," he replied, honestly enough.
"Hm," Snape replied. "Whatever the case may be, you will discuss the situation with someone within a fortnight."
"What?!"
"If you don't," Snape continued, "I will be forced to explain to your head of house what is on your mind."
"How dare you?!" Harry shouted, rising to his feet in one smooth motion. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone! You promised!"
"Don't you think I see the exhaustion on your face?" Snape snapped. "The inner turmoil clear in your every expression? Oh, I am aware of the lack of perception that is common in Gryffindor house, but rest assured that I notice these things."
Well, that's a first!
"What do you care anyway?!" Harry exclaimed, clenching his hands into fists.
"Do you believe yourself to be a special case, Mr Potter?" Snape replied calmly. He had still not risen from behind his desk and was giving Harry every opportunity to vent. Something that Harry, until recently, would never have deemed possible. But here they were.
"Well, you are not," Snape continued after Harry's stubborn silence. "I understand quite well the difficulties that arise from children that are in your situation. I cannot ignore them."
Harry could hear the words Snape had not spoken. 'I want to help you.' But Snape didn't understand. Harry wasn't like the others.
When next he spoke it was through gritted teeth, "You know as well as I do that my situation cannot be resolved. I will simply have to go back until either Voldemort is dead or I come of age. And quite honestly, I don't see the former happening any time soon."
Snape watched him carefully, his expression guarded. "We will deal with that when the situation presents itself," he said.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fat chance, Professor," he said. "No offence, but there isn't a thing you can do to convince Dumbledore to let me stay here. It's clear to me that he doesn't care."
"Perhaps that is the way you see things now," Snape replied, still as calm as ever. "But your thoughts don't necessarily represent the reality of things, you realise."
"I know what I saw, Professor," Harry said, sounding somewhat defeated.
Snape sighed. "Think about what I said, Mr Potter," he replied. "I realise now that you're used to doing many a thing by yourself but that doesn't mean that's always the best course of action. A fortnight. And I'm already reluctant to grant you that much time."
"Can I go now?" Harry asked flatly.
Snape waved his hand in the direction of his door causing it to fly open. Harry wasted no time in getting out of there, only narrowly remembering to take the book with him.
Harry was angrily stomping through the dungeon hallways as Snape's order repeated itself mercilessly in his mind. How dare he? How dare Snape tell Harry what to do like that? His personal life was his own and the man had no business whatsoever to be meddling like that! It was infuriating, to say the least.
He rushed past a gaggle of young Slytherin girls that stared at him in trepidation as he rushed past. They seemed to be either first or second years and clearly meant him no harm, but it was enough to remind Harry that he was indeed still in Slytherin territory and would do well to not make so much of a spectacle of himself.
I don't need Malfoy to hex me while I'm at it. One Slytherin trying to mess with my life is more than enough, thank you.
He slowed his pace to a normal one and kept his footsteps from echoing off the dungeon walls.
Honestly, a bit of carpet here and there wouldn't hurt. On the other hand, they may be trying to stop the Slytherins from sneaking around in the first place by baring the stone floors.
" – Too dangerous, Vince." Harry heard someone say. Probably Goyle, if he remembered the first names of the two Malfoy shadows correctly.
"It'll be alright," probably Crabbe replied. "We've been researching this for ages. I swear, nothing can possibly go wrong."
"Hmmm," Goyle responded. "I still think we might be going too far with this."
"We're just trying to help, remember?" Crabbe said importantly. "Trust me. After this, we'll be hailed as heroes."
"Or expelled," Goyle huffed.
"They wouldn't dare," Crabbe said easily. "Not with our fathers where they are."
"I don't think they scare old Dumbledore all that much," Goyle said.
"If not them, Mr Malfoy would surely help us out," Crabbe replied. "Since we're doing something like this…"
"Fine," Goyle acquiesced. "So when?"
"Tomorrow," Crabbe said resolutely. "It's all been set up. Midnight seems like the appropriate time, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Goyle said. "That seems about right."
Harry was vaguely aware that he was holding his breath as he listened to the receding footsteps of the pair of Slytherins that weren't even cunning enough to keep their private conversations in their own dorm. On the other hand, they might not have expected Harry's presence. Again.
When the footsteps were no more, Harry hurried his way out of the dungeons. As soon as he reached the main gates, he broke into a sprint and raced all the way up to the Gryffindor tower right until he reached the Fat Lady's portrait. He didn't listen to her babbling on but hurriedly gave her the password and slipped inside from the moment the portrait swung open.
He was relieved to find both Ron and Hermione still sitting in the common room, working on their homework. They looked up as soon as Harry walked in. Hermione frowned at the sight of him.
"Harry," she said. "You look as if you ran here all the way from the dungeons."
"I did," Harry said breathlessly.
"Was it Peeves again?" Ron asked as put down his quill and stretched his fingers.
Harry shook his head and joined his friends at their table, careful not to disturb any of the stragglers in the room.
"Crabbe and Goyle," he whispered.
Hermione and Ron shared a glance before Ron spoke. "Harry, mate," he said. "Don't you think you might be seeing things that aren't there?"
"They were talking about doing something dangerous," Harry insisted. "And they mentioned Malfoy!"
"Of course they did," Ron said. "Isn't he their prince or something?"
"I'm talking about Lucius," Harry insisted. "They were talking about their death eater connections."
"If you feel that strongly about it, you should probably talk to Professor McGonagall," Hermione suggested. "I'm sure she'll investigate."
Harry sighed. "She told me to lay low," he said begrudgingly.
"Professor Snape then," Hermione countered. "Aren't you supposed to see him again tomorrow?"
Harry stared at her rather dumbfounded. "You're suggesting I tell Snape?"
"Well, he is their head of house," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "He will probably want to know if they're up to something."
"Please," Ron huffed. "He'll probably take points for even suggesting that his good-for-nothing snakes are doing something against the rules."
"Yeah," Harry said. "I'd rather not get him on my bad side. He's been… neutral lately."
"So your Occlumency session went well then?" Hermione asked. Harry recognised the change of subject for what it was but decided to just go with it. His friends were not about to chase after Crabbe and Goyle with him. That much was for sure.
"I wouldn't say that," he replied. "Snape broke through instantly. It was very… disconcerting."
"No mercy from the git, huh?" Ron said sympathetically.
"He gave me a book to read," Harry sighed. "Said it would help teach me how to push him out."
"Well that's a good start, isn't it?" Hermione said, her eyes brimming with excitement as she looked at the book Harry had brought with him.
I'm kind of surprised she didn't snatch it from me from the moment I got back here.
"I'm supposed to read the first two chapters by tomorrow," Harry said wryly. "And decide on a new element to try."
Hermione nodded eagerly but Ron stared in confusion.
"Oh, honestly," Hermione sighed. "When shielding one's mind by means of Occlumency, the subject must focus on the chosen element to create a barrier against the enemy Legilimens."
Ron shrugged. "Okay," he said slowly. "So what did you choose first?"
"Air," Harry said. "I was sure it would work. But my vision collapsed pretty much instantly."
"How odd," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I would have suggested air for you as well. It seems kind of logical."
"Well, it didn't work," Harry said matter-of-factly. "So what should I try next?"
"I would try fire," Ron said casually. "I know I sure as hell wouldn't try going through a wall of fire. My eyebrows would burn clean off!"
"That's not really how that works, Ron," Hermione said, chuckling slightly.
"It's as good a suggestion as any, though," Harry said. "Snape mentioned that it would be a process of trial and error so I suppose I'll just have to keep trying until I find what fits for me. But in the meantime, I also need to learn how to push him out when he gets in."
"Yeah," Ron said. "Imagine that git going through your mind to try and find things to deduct points for."
"He wouldn't do that," Hermione chided. "He's a teacher."
"He said that he wouldn't use anything he found against me," Harry pointed out.
Ron seemed sceptical. "And you believe him?" he asked.
I really shouldn't after he threatened to spill all my secrets to McGonagall, but…
"Yes," Harry said honestly. "I really do."
"Oh, I know!" Ron said, suddenly excited. "If anyone's done something to warrant a deduction, you could show him the memory on purpose. That way, he won't be able to deduct points when he finds out later!"
"What kind of reasoning is that?" Hermione sighed. "Harry hasn't even learned how to project specific memories yet. Have you?" she added, turning to Harry.
"Definitely not," Harry said. "The memories just sort of… come to me. Though Snape did mention that he'd be able to find something incriminating if he would look for it."
"Just don't show him our break-in in the Slytherin common room," Ron said as he picked up his quill again. "I don't think he'd be able to laugh that one off."
"He might praise our Slytherin sneakiness, though," Harry said.
"I think him seeing that memory might just as well get us all killed," Ron joked. "To preserve their little secrets, you know?"
He laughed but Harry didn't. He had become very pale all of a sudden, gripping the book just a bit tighter than was necessary.
"I'm going up to the dorm to read in bed," he announced softly. He got up and rushed up the stairs, ignoring Ron's worried, "Was it something I said?" as he closed the door behind him.
He knew it was ridiculous. Ron's stupid jokes really shouldn't get to him like that. Only, they did. He threw the book on his bed and got ready in the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, he looked at his reflection, noticing the glum look in his eyes.
Without you, your mother and father would still be alive!
Harry swallowed thickly as he tried to ignore Petunia's voice in his head.
You hurt people left and right.
He didn't mean to. He didn't want anyone to get hurt because of him. But he knew that she was right. Someone always got hurt. Quirrel died because of him in his first year. For all Harry knew, the man had been possessed by Voldemort, not even fully realising what was happening. And yet he died because of it.
In second year, he almost got Ginny killed. Honestly, he was surprised that Ron was still speaking to him after all of that.
Third year he almost got himself killed; Ron got hurt and Peter Pettigrew escaped which forced Sirius to go into hiding like some common criminal. Even Snape had almost died then, to protect Harry from a werewolf.
Fourth year had been the worst of all. He actually had gotten someone killed then.
Cedric.
Staring angrily at his reflection, Harry drew back his fist and punched the mirror with as much force as he could muster. It shattered on impact, cutting open Harry's knuckles.
Yes, that was very helpful. You idiot!
Harry cast a quick 'reparo' to mend the damage and wrapped a towel around his hand to still the bleeding. Sighing at his own… impetuosity as Snape would call it, he left the bathroom ready to just hide away from the rest of the world.
Putting on a front, he smiled sheepishly at Neville when he looked at Harry in concern. "Sorry," Harry said. "I accidentally broke something. I fixed it, though."
"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Neville asked in concern as he eyed Harry's wrapped hand.
"Nah," Harry said. "I'm fine. I just really need to get started on my homework."
"Okay," Neville said, shrugging a bit.
Taking that as his cue to end the conversation, Harry climbed into his bed and closed the curtains. He cast a silencing charm as to not disturb anyone and gingerly opened the old, yellowing book.
Chapter one: Separating psyche from perception.
The phrasing of the book turned out to be quite archaic and it took Harry a long while to struggle through the required chapters. It was, however, a very interesting read and Harry couldn't help but start reading the third chapter even after he had finished. Somewhere between the pages on meditation and relaxation, his eyes fluttered shut, though, and the book closed with a light thud.
His dreams that night were haunted by not only Cedric but also Quirrel who asked him why he needed to die. Harry had no sensible reply to give.
Well, the first Occlumency lesson happened. That's always a frightful moment for any author. *Nervous chuckle* Please do let me know what you thought of it as well as the rest of the chapter, alright? The next update is planned for Tuesday since that chapter is already done.
Thanks for reading!
