The fifth-year boys dormitory was bustling to life, the others already out of bed and hurrying to get ready for another day. Neville and Dean were laughing quietly, and for one paranoid moment Harry wondered if they were laughing about him. He immediately knew this isn't true, annoyed with the depths of his self-absorption. Not everything was about him….

Harry made no move to get out of bed, rationalising with himself that he would take just ten more minutes…and then another ten. Every delay cost him something, an opportunity he would regret later. His Divination homework was due in first period, the only opportunity to finish it off was now. His Herbology homework could wait, he could do it during their morning study period, though he knew he probably wouldn't.

Minutes passed and Harry continued to delay, costing himself the opportunity to eat in the Great Hall before it became crowded. As that opportunity came and went so too did his motivation. He could sleep another twenty minutes now and still be on time to Divination…though he wouldn't get that homework finished either.

Deciding he could probably finish it while Firenze was taking attendance, Harry turned over in his bed and closed his eyes again.

Thirty minutes…he would sprint to Divination if he had to.

'You getting up, mate?' Ron asked from outside the curtains, struggling with the sleeve of his robes. 'Harry?'

'Yes,' he replied, trying not to sound terse. He turned over again, avoiding Ron.

It seemed Ron was waiting for him, he could tell by the way he was trying to make small talk, complaining about the day ahead, but Harry had stopped listening. The day ahead was not something he wanted to think about, even if it was to complain.

Right now he didn't want to show his face anywhere, and avoided it until he absolutely had to. The loss of the DA and Dumbledore had been a heavy blow, but it was Lucius Malfoy's public visit to the school that had pushed him to breaking point.

More than once he had seriously considered just packing it all in, simply walking down to McGonagall's office and telling her he was out of there. But he knew he'd had zero say over where he went. He would want to go back to Grimmauld Place with Sirius, or the Burrow, both places he'd be equally pleased to end up. But knowing Dumbledore he would end up at the Dursley's again, and this time it would be long term.

Last night he had spoken to Sirius through the mirrors again, but it had been a brief conversation. Harry just hadn't been in the mood after his fifth and final detention with Umbridge, not even caring to hear Sirius's assurance that Dumbledore was safe and well, that he wasn't mad about the DA being found out.

Harry had ended the conversation early, claiming he needed to finish his Divination homework which had been true. But when the conversation was over he just sat there on his bed for the better part of an hour, doing nothing while his head swirled. He felt completely numb, mentally exhausted from all that was going on. It was at the point that he couldn't even pinpoint what the problem was…he didn't know where to start.

'Come on mate,' Ron said brightly, yanking back the curtains around Harry's bed. 'We've got Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures this afternoon. You like those.'

When he sat up and rubbed his eyes he tried to force a carefree smile for Ron's sake, he really did try. But it came out as a grimace instead, one that made Ron look at him in concern. Taking his glasses from the bedside table Harry looked up at his best mate, seeing that he was holding out his schoolbag, packed for him and ready to go.

'You feeling okay?' he asked, conscious that Harry had Occlumency coming up that night. 'Wanna skip out on Firenze?'

Harry shook his head and swung his legs out of bed, wearily getting up and beginning to get dressed. 'You should go to breakfast,' he said lightly, sniffling a yawn. 'Grab me something to eat and I'll meet you at Divination.'

Ron, who had been anxiously checking his watch as time ran out, breathed a mixed sigh of relief and skepticism. He knew what it usually meant lately when Harry said he would meet him and Hermione at their next class. It was more likely that he was skipping out, but that he wanted to be alone when he did it.

'Will you actually come to Divination? Please, don't make me sit through that rubbish with you.'

'I'm coming,' he assured him, gesturing to the school uniform he was putting on. 'Promise.'

'Alright then,' Ron muttered, making a show of putting Harry's schoolbag over his own shoulder, making it clear he expected him to show up. 'There won't be any croissants left by now. You want toast?'

Thanking him, Harry nodded. While Ron left he continued getting dressed, trying to shake off the feeling of lethargy that had come over his entire body. In the adjoining bathroom he brushed his teeth and washed his face, the shock of cold water waking him a little more. He stifled another yawn and then looked at himself in the mirror, mentally reciting the day ahead.

Divination, study period, Transfiguration, History of Magic, double Herbology, double Care of Magical Creatures. All in all it was a reasonable day, especially a double period with Hagrid.

Occlumency.

Snape had let him off Monday night, a practicality as opposed to mercy. But tonight Snape would surely want his pound of flesh. Trying not to think about it Harry returned to the dormitory to finish getting dressed, checking his watch and seeing that he had to go soon or else he would need to sprint to Divination after all. Still his head felt foggy and tired as he pulled on his school robes and then looked around for his tie, trying to remember where he had tossed it aside last night.

He found it discarded on the other side of his bed, and when he went to pick it up something made him freeze. When it happened his heart skipped a beat -

His school robes were being roughly yanked off his shoulders, the knot in his tie unravelled and discarded on the floor. The Death Eater holding him in the corner had patted him down, looking for any weapons he might have hidden on him. It was Nott holding him, pressing him into the corner of Malfoy Manor's entrance hall while the cellar of dark artefacts was cleared out so he could be imprisoned. His robes and tie were tossed aside, discarded onto the floor.

It had happened. He wasn't a liar…those things had happened to him.

Picking up his tie from the floor Harry sank onto the edge of his bed, trailing the fabric between his fingers and pulling it taught. He couldn't help but think about it now, even though he knew he shouldn't, and not least of all because he had Occlumency that night.

This was how it went. He started thinking about these things and then he couldn't stop. He couldn't get them out of his head…these things that no one believed had happened to him. The thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.

Thinking of the day ahead he glanced at the dormitory door, feeling guilty. But he just could not face another day.

Rolling up his tie he set it onto the bedside table, then slumped back down to his bed and closed his eyes, finally ready to sleep. But even so the sleep was not restful, his mind hovering somewhere between conscious thought and blissful sleep.

When he woke hours later it was halfway through Transfiguration, but he didn't rush to get up. It was too late by now, and so in no great hurry to rectify his mistake Harry rolled onto his front and went back to sleep, having set his alarm so there'd be time to get lunch before the Great Hall filled with students. He had skipped three classes and a study period to sleep, and the only thing he felt guilty about was Ron lugging an extra schoolbag around all morning.

When Ron and Hermione found him waiting in their usual place during lunch they seemed genuinely surprised to see him there, but pleased nonetheless.

'You look better,' Ron said bluntly, offering Harry half his sandwich.

Harry declined it, having already eaten. 'I got some sleep.'

'Well, we told McGonagall you were sick,' Hermione caught him up. 'She might try to make you go to the Hospital Wing.'

'I'm fine now, just needed some sleep.'

Ron cleared his throat and leant closer. 'Hospital Wing would get you out of Occlumency.'

'Ron,' Hermione admonished him.

'It would.'

'Only for one night,' Harry said dejectedly, though he appreciated the idea. 'Snape would make me come back tomorrow.' He looked at Hermione, waiting for her to launch into a tirade about how he was supposed to be practicing Occlumency not trying to avoid it. But now he looked at her closely he noticed her eyes were a little red. 'Everything okay?'

She perked up immediately. 'Yes, of course.'

'You look upset.'

Hermione made a puzzled expression, turning to Ron who seemed equally perplexed. Apologising sheepishly Harry changed the subject, asking what he had missed out on while he slept through morning classes. It wasn't until later in Herbology, when Hermione was distracted dealing with the Venomous Tentacula which had seized her around the middle, that Ron whispered what had happened.

'We were with Ginny during morning break. Some idiot saw the three of us together and decided to tell us what she thought. Ginny took a swing at them,' he whispered, looking impressed. 'Hermione was a bit upset.'

'Your sister took a swing at someone?' he exclaimed in a whisper, thoroughly impressed. He didn't ask what the subject of this person's opinion had been, there was no point.

'Yeah. Muggle duelling, Dad's gonna be so proud.'

'He shouldn't be,' Harry said darkly. 'It's what got me and the twins a life ban from Quidditch.'

'Still, she got the girl square in the nose, but now she's got a black eye too. Wish you could have seen it.'

Harry just laughed under his breath, finding a little solace as he pictured the scene in his mind's eye. 'She makes a better friend than enemy.'

'Don't tell 'Mione you know,' Ron hissed, seeing that she was coming back. 'She made me promise I wouldn't tell. Hey!'

Hermione looked at him, suspicious of his overly friendly greeting. 'What were you two talking about?'

'Ron was volunteering to do the dragon dung today.'

Receiving a glare for his efforts, Harry managed to drag himself through the remainder of the afternoon, a day that was lifted by the fact that Umbridge wasn't inspecting Hagrid's class. Glad to enjoy the double period outside in the relatively mild weather Harry ignored the other students all together, the Slytherins in particular, and he was grateful when Hagrid broke them into groups that allowed him to seclude himself with Neville and Hermione.

But Ron wasn't so lucky, and ended up in a group with Dean, Pansy Parkinson and Crabbe. While Harry watched from afar the group seemingly got along just fine, but Ron's ears were turning steadily redder as the class progressed. Something was going on over there, and Harry didn't need to ask. His friends were subjected to as much scrutiny, gossip and taunting as he was, yet their support never faltered.

He was grateful to have them by his side, just as he had been from the very moment he left the Hospital Wing last June and found them on their way to see him, but he wondered how much longer it could possibly last. How much longer could they take being Harry Potter's friend? The worse things got the more he wondered if they weren't better off without him, if maybe he should take Sirius up on his offer to break him out of there.

The last class of the day finished up smoothly, Harry, Ron and Hermione lingering back as always to help Hagrid clean up and to say hello without Umbridge lurking around. Like he so often did Hagrid invited them in for dinner, sparing all three of them from eating in the Great Hall for one night. For forty five care free minutes they stayed in Hagrid's cabin, and Harry could have stayed down there all evening.

But as the time drew closer to six o'clock he reluctantly made his excuses, Ron and Hermione joining him as he returned to the castle. Hagrid seemed to understand, and had sent them on their way with a box of iced biscuits he'd made the day before, which to their pleasant surprise were quite tasty.

Parting from Ron and Hermione in the Entrance Hall, Harry steeled himself and then headed down into the Dungeons, thankfully not running into any Slytherins as he was prone to. Snape could always tell an incident of some kind had happened, no matter how inconsequential, and he used it to his advantage when he probed Harry's mind, looking for weak points to exploit.

He knocked on the door to Snape's office and entered when called, feeling he ought to be commended for continuing to show up to this ridiculous lesson. Snape's office was a creepy and dim as usual, and without saying a word Harry entered and dropped his school bag in the usual place by the door.

Snape was bent over the pensieve on his desk, using his wand to withdraw the memories he didn't want exposed. Though gaining any kind of skill or success in Occlumency would bring him one step closer to never having to do this again, Harry was not at all inclined to accidentally see any more of Snape's memories than he already had.

'When do I get to use a pensieve?'

'You do not,' Snape replied tersely, not looking up as he finished. 'Your desire to keep me from your most private thoughts and memories serves as your motivation to obstruct me.'

It was immediately apparent that being let off the hook Monday did not stem from compassion. Harry had been right. Snape had taken to probing his memories not because that's how the memories presented themselves to him, but with intention.

'So you're intentionally making this awful for me?'

Having finished with the pensieve Snape raised his head and looked at him. 'Was that not clear already?'

Harry clenched his jaw, as furious with himself as he was with Snape. Some Gryffindor he was. Week after week he kept showing up, letting this bastard mentally torture him - and he just let it continue. Hatred was welling up within him, sheer unadulterated hatred. And Snape sensed it straight away.

'You will never learn the art of Occlumency if you do not even try to conceal your emotion,' Snape reminded him, staring at Harry. 'Your hatred for me must become complete indifference. As must your fear of Lucius Malfoy.'

His cheeks reddened a little, hating that Snape had mentioned this. It was bad enough he had Umbridge rubbing that in his face, and now Snape was too.

'Today you were absent from three classes and a study period. Explain yourself."

'Why do you care? They weren't your classes.'

Snape narrowed his eyes, not liking Harry's tone. 'Forming another army, perhaps?'

The sneer was unmistakable, as was the fact that he was rubbing it in Harry's face. 'I was sleeping.'

Snape was still staring at him, looking for the truth. 'Did you dream?'

'No.'

It was a bald-faced lie, they both knew it. But Harry didn't care.

'There is no point in lying to me if you do not even attempt to conceal the truth.'

'Like you conceal from the Order that you tortured me?'

He got the thrill of seeing Snape's eyes flash, a flicker of annoyance from the rather bland jab, but Harry ran with it. He couldn't help but what came out of his mouth next.

'Conceal your annoyance, Sir.'

Choosing not to escalate the war of words Snape returned his attention to the pensieve, pushing it to the other side of his desk before throwing back his sleeves and drawing his wand. He came forward to face Harry, the two of them standing opposite one another as they usually did. They were going to start now, and he already knew it would be bad. Snape would make sure he regretted his smart mouth.

'Take out your wand. Close your eyes.'

At first Harry defied him, it was almost a necessity that he do so, but then he obeyed. With his wand gripped tightly in his hand he closed his eyes, hating how vulnerable he felt standing in front of Snape, waiting for the attack…letting it come.

'Clear your mind. Think of nothing...think of nothing,' Snape repeated pointedly. There was a long pause. 'Focus, Potter. Or else you will admit me with great ease.'

'I get it,' he said sharply.

'One - two - three - Legilimens!'

He was sinking through the floor, his body suspended as image after image flashing in his mind. It was as awful as every time before, and as occasionally happened new scenes flashed before his mind, scenes he had not witnessed but rather heard of - Hermione crying in the corridors, Ginny punching a faceless student as she defended him.

Think of nothing, think of nothing, think of nothing.

It worked, the memories fading to dark nothing, but only for a moment. A Dementor was crouched over Dudley, he was face to face with Lucius Malfoy and the Governors...that long corridor in the Department of Mysteries flickering in his mind's eye. On their knees before him was Augustus Rookwood, trembling as he explained Avery's mistake.

After only a few moments Snape released him. Collecting himself Harry took a few breaths, waiting apprehensively for Snape to comment on the long corridor or his vision of Rookwood, but he did not.

'A brief flicker of success,' he said lowly. 'A flicker that failed because you did not attempt to resist for more than a moment.'

'I'm trying,' he said tonelessly.

'Again. One - two - three - Legilimens!'

The hot breath of a Death Eater was on his neck as they pinned him into the corner, yanking off his tie. The memory of that was interspersed with flashes of the Burrow, a lively meal in the kitchen that faded before he could cling to it for the joy it aroused. Now Wormtail was cutting into his arm, taking his blood for the potion.

'B-blood of the enemy … forcibly taken … you will … resurrect your foe.'

There was nothing he could do - he was tied too tightly, struggling hopelessly against the ropes that bound him to the headstone.

'No - stop!'

To his relief, Snape stopped.

It was unusual for him to do so, even when Harry pleaded with him. There was a heavy silence in the office, and Harry kept his eyes down as he got up from the floor, having fallen to his knees. His heart was racing so hard at first his legs struggled to support him.

He pictured Wormtail and the knife, a knot forming in his stomach when he thought about his own blood running through Voldemort's veins...the thought made him want to be sick. He'd not thought about that moment for many months, nor the fact that his blood ran in Voldemort's veins, forever connecting them so intimately. It felt like that small scar in the crook of his arm was burning red hot, his awareness of it heightened.

Harry swore under his breath. He normally lasted a little longer before had to ask Snape to stop.

Snape was opening and closing the cabinets on the far wall. He retrieved a glass bottle and poured a small amount of liquid into a goblet before presenting it to Harry. 'Drink this.'

'You will obey me,' Voldemort instructed. 'Drink.'

Harry almost physically recoiled, looking at Snape angrily. 'What is it?'

'A mild calming draught,' Snape said tonelessly. Leaving the goblet floating in mid air he put a stopper into the bottle before returning it to the cabinet. 'In practicing Occlumency it would normally work against your interests. However, given your disposition tonight -'

'My disposition?'

'Yes. Your disposition,' he repeated, relishing the insult.

'I don't want it.'

His refusal must have aggravated Snape. 'On your own head then,' he said tersely, and the goblet levitated back over to his desk. Snape raised his wand and counted down again, giving Harry very little time to prepare. 'Legilimens.'

It was his first day at school again, his Aunt shooing him through the gate so that she could say goodbye to Dudley. He was with Sirius at Grimmauld Place, laughing as they drank Butterbeers and Harry learned how to throw a punch. Then it was Mr Weasley walking him back to Privet Drive to spend the summer...but then Mr Weasley was on the floor of that dark corridor, and Harry was attacking him again, Harry as Nagini - and it felt as real as when it happened.

'Focus, Potter,' Snape instructed. 'Focus your mind and force me out.'

'Stop!' he shouted into the void. 'It's enough, stop.'

'Think of nothing. Focus.'

Think of nothing, think of nothing, think of nothing.

Blissful darkness - sweet nothing…but only for a moment. Snape was bringing the Dementor in, and when he felt the surge of cold air any hope Harry had of regaining focus was gone. The memories spiralled rapidly, flashing so quickly he almost couldn't see them, but he could still feel them. Carrow was laughing proudly, even more vicious and cruel than his partner.

'You are not yet broken, Harry Potter. It takes more than a wizard's own suffering to break him.'

'No. I can't...'

Finally, it all came to an end. Harry's voice was hoarse as he felt a yell to stop dying in his throat. He found himself on his hands and knees in Snape's office, trembling all over as he gasped for breath, trying not to be sick. Shaken to his core he stayed as he was, his body damp with a cold sweat...he felt paralysed in shock.

Catching his breath enough Harry began to move, shakily getting up. But instead of standing he sank into the chair opposite Snape's desk, putting his head into his hands. He felt faint and dizzy, and so he didn't yet try to look up. He dreaded to think of the way Snape was looking at him, how weak he must seem.

'You are exhausted,' Snape berated him.

Harry took a shaky breath, clearing his throat before speaking. 'Then let me have a Sleeping Potion,' he demanded, reverting to an old argument.

'You know why that is not permissible. It would leave you vulnerable. Unable to wake up if you came under attack.'

Silence fell, and grateful that Snape wasn't rushing him Harry slowly raised his head. He could smell smoke in the air, and when he looked he noticed the fabric of Snape's sleeve was singed, the exposed skin of his arm bright red. Making no comment about it Snape was already bustling around in the cabinets again, looking for the same salve he had given Harry on Monday night.

'I will permit you a twenty minute break,' Snape announced, an unusual kindness. 'Walk the corridors, clear your mind. When you return we will discuss an alternate method.'

Confused by the apparent display of compassion Harry glanced towards the office door, thinking about it. Emotion was welling up inside of him, becoming harder and harder to keep at bay until his eyes were beginning to burn. He knew that if he left now he was not coming back tonight, no matter what alternate method Snape had up his sleeve.

Slowly he rose to his feet, running his hand through his hair. It was easier to think now that he was standing, to feel in control of himself - and immediately he decided that this was over.

He couldn't put himself through this any longer. Dumbledore might claim it was important, that it was necessary to protect him, but it was unbearable. He didn't care about protecting himself, he just knew that he couldn't go on. He needed to be able to function, to live…to not be blindly obedient to the whims of Dumbledore who had no care for impact it was having on him.

'I'm done.'

Snape glanced up. 'We have barely started. You are not done.'

Harry made his way across the office, his legs still shaky as he picked up his schoolbag and slung it over his shoulder. He turned back to look at Snape, watching as he applied the salve to his arm and then repaired the sleeve of his robes. He hadn't planned on saying this, but now that he had said it he felt awash with relief. A decision had been made, one that was long overdue.

'I'm done.'

Snape looked up at him again, his brow furrowing as he stared. And then to Harry's surprise he caved in, and this time it was mercy. With a flick of his wand the goblet of calming draught on his desk turned into a glass bottle.

'Take that with you. Drink it thirty minutes before our lesson next Monday night. I will know if you do not.'

Harry took the bottle of calming draught and slipped it into his bag, already thinking of another use for it. But before he departed he knew he had to make himself clear. 'I'm not coming back.'

Resuming his place at his desk Snape didn't bother hiding the roll of his eyes. 'These lessons are not a choice afforded to either one of us.'

Harry didn't retort. In fact, he felt calmer and more in control than he had felt in weeks. He was sick of being pushed around and told what to do. Go to Surrey, talk to Madam Bones, ignore Umbridge, learn Occlumency. That was over now.

'I'm sick of shutting up and just doing what I'm told,' he stated plainly, his voice calm and even. 'And I'm sick of letting you torture me, again. I'm not coming back.'

Unconcerned by his defiance Snape simply looked at Harry. 'You will continue emptying your mind before you sleep, and you will return here Monday night at six o'clock.'

'And when I don't?'

'You will suffer the consequences.'

Harry shook his head. 'I'm not your prisoner anymore. And I won't be Dumbledore's either.'

Without another word Harry walked out of the office, not looking back. It was clear the conversation was not over, that Snape fully expected this to be just him attempting to assert himself before ultimately doing as he was told.

Harry hastened through the castle, getting back to Gryffindor Tower just as the symptoms of lethargy and shakiness began to sweep over him, symptoms that would last until tomorrow at least. He wouldn't feel like himself for a while yet, and normally he would get just enough time to work through the weekend with a clear head before subjecting himself to it again the following week.

Not this week. Not any more.

Ron and Hermione had gone to the library, and he was glad to find that they had yet to return. Seamus was the only one in their dormitory, and when Harry entered they both avoided one another's gaze. After the article in the Prophet and the DA bust-up things had become awkward again, and they had resumed their former aversion to one another, though tonight Harry could feel his former friend's gaze following him over the top of the novel he was reading.

Ignoring him completely Harry kicked off his shoes, robes and tie, realising halfway through that he was too lethargic to even get changed properly. Discarding everything onto the floor he took out the calming draught Snape had given him and studied it. Unless it was a trick it did seem to be a simple calming draught, and both trusting and mistrusting Snape at the same time he removed the stopper and drank the potion in one.

It was no sleeping potion, but it was enough to do the trick. Snape would be furious if he knew he was using this potion before sleeping, having warned it would make him more vulnerable as he slept, but he didn't care. The potion blessedly took effect quickly, his heart rate slowing down and his shakiness settling. He sat on the edge of his bed for a few minutes, feeling his body becoming relaxed. It felt like it was only distant, but somewhere in the back of his mind was a wonderful sense of peace.

This was how he was meant to feel every night before going to sleep. Calm. Relaxed. Empty.

Only just remembering to remove his glasses, Harry drew the curtains around his bed and sank onto the pillow. There was going to be hell to pay when he refused to attend his next lesson, but he had not a single care in the world as he slowly sank into a restful sleep.

A/N Hope you enjoyed our first AU look at Snape's Occlumency lessons, and Harry finally deciding enough is enough! Storyline from here starts deviating from the book even more, but we get a few good (hopefully good) scenes coming up with Umbridge, Malfoy and McGonagall over the next few chapters - any predictions for what's going to happen?