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Harry's mind was fully occupied as he made his way towards Snape's office for his first Occlumency lesson. He couldn't shake away a strange feeling that came upon him regarding Snape as he kept dreading that he might have something terrible for him in store.
At the worst time, he also recalled Ron's opinion of Snape – how he believed that he was still a Death Eater, despite Dumbledore's trust in him. Snape certainly seemed like the type, didn't he? But Harry had his doubts.
Besides that, for some strange reason, Hermione's concerned face that he last saw before setting off for the dungeons also kept popping up in front of his eyes. She seemed really worried for him, and knowing Hermione, Harry could tell that it was genuine concern. Nonetheless, her worry for him made his heart serene. At least someone in his life cared about him no matter the circumstance...
Lost in his musing, he had covered the path from the Gryffindor Tower right down to the dungeons in no time at all. The shady corridors of the place looked eerie to him. Here and there, students from Slytherin were chatting and idling about, giving Harry odd looks as he passed them by. While he continued navigating among the unfamiliar corridors, he spotted Malfoy and his gang standing and laughing in a corner. Just the sight of them was enough to make him grimace.
Recently, Umbridge had awarded this group the title of the Inquisitorial Squad. Now that Dumbledore was almost always gone and Umbridge had started to think that she was the headmistress of the school, this Inquisitorial Squad acted as her sentinels and reported back incidents where students flouted her Decrees. The title also gave them the right to take away House Points from misbehaving students. However, since Malfoy and his friends were absolute gits, they took away points for no reason at all, too. Becoming Umbridge's 'special' students had made them gain even more hatred in the eyes of both Harry and Ron, but the latter knew that messing with the Squad would lead to no good. They would just end up losing points, which they couldn't afford to do as they had gained them from all the hard work they had put into their Quidditch matches.
Ignoring the squad and blocking their laughter, Harry continued on his way to Snape's office. The corridor that housed his quarters was thankfully empty, but Harry's heartbeat could be heard plainly in the otherwise quiet place. Even the office door looked intimidating as heck to him.
Harry couldn't believe how scared he was feeling. He kept imagining the worst.
Get a grip on yourself! His head spoke up. You've faced this git a million times, remember? So you have no reason to be afraid of him now.
But it's not him I'm afraid of, Harry responded silently. It's the lesson itself. Occlumency. Snape is going to enter my mind, isn't he? What if he uses it against me?
Well, you have no choice, his mind said. No choice but to trust him. Dumbledore wouldn't have appointed him if he wasn't 100% sure about this. You have to give Snape a chance. Voldemort is much worse, remember?
Yes, Voldemort was definitely much worse. Harry sighed. Who was he even kidding? It was his jitters speaking for him, but the little pep talk he had shared with himself actually made him feel better. Determination, and a new kind of bravery, was beginning to impact his heart. He didn't need to be afraid of Snape and just had to believe that whatever would happen would be for the best.
With a steadying pulse, Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward to enter Snape's room.
But the door burst open on its own before his fingers could even touch it.
To Harry's utter astonishment, Dumbledore came striding out of the office, his face displaying an ambiguous expression. A million questions burst into Harry's mind at the sight of him, but Dumbledore had given his shoulder an encouraging pat and had disappeared down the corridor before Harry could even form the first one on his tongue. He stared dazedly at the spot where the headmaster went, a frenzy starting up in his brain.
He was probably giving Snape last-minute instructions, Harry suddenly thought, surprising himself with a valid explanation. Or motivating him. Just go inside and get on with it.
Before he could overthink more, he obeyed and went inside. The office was just the way he remembered it. Bottles and beakers littered the tables, shelves after shelves were showcasing different potions of different colours, and the fireplace was alive, casting a warm aura around the spacious room.
Snape was leaning on a table with his back to Harry. His shoulders were slumped, and he appeared – dejected. What did Dumbledore even say to him?
Harry wasn't sure if he should let him know he was here, but since he was showing no signs of acknowledging him, he cleared his throat and said, "Good evening, professor."
Snape turned around at the sound of his voice, and Harry could instantly tell he was not in a good mood. Was it because of Dumbledore?
"Potter," Snape said, "You're late."
Harry frowned with indignation. "You must be mistaken, professor. It's only 8:03," he replied, glancing at his wristwatch. "And I met Professor Dumbledore in the doorway. He –"
"Yes, the headmaster has a habit of showing up at the most unexpected times," Snape interrupted in a drawling voice. He had regained his usual self.
"I hope you are aware of how important these lessons are," he went on, his black robes illuminating in the firelight. "Or do I need to apprise you of it?"
"I assure you, I am well aware," Harry retorted. It was barely the first five minutes, and Harry could feel his anger mounting against Snape. He could only wonder how he was going to survive the rest of the classes with him.
"Let's start with Occlumency itself," said Snape, taking a seat behind his desk. He didn't invite Harry to sit, but Harry sat down in front of him anyway.
"I already know what Occlumency is," he declared, then added for good measure, "Sir."
A smile played at the corner of Snape's mouth. "Good. Then I'll presume you are not a lost cause already. However, I must impress upon you, Potter, that Occlumency is not something you can do by flicking your wrist and muttering nonsensical words. It requires will, tenacity, and a complete sense of focus."
He said the last words with gritted teeth, for Harry was staring into nothingness, appearing lost in thought. But he was listening to Snape.
"Right," said Harry dubiously. A complete sense of focus? How was he supposed to have that? His brain was a complete mess these days, and Snape expected him to focus?
But that was no excuse. Harry sighed and recollected himself. This was the only way he could prevent Voldemort from manipulating him further, and he had to try his best.
"The powers of the Dark Lord are not something to be reckoned with," said Snape, voicing Harry's thoughts, "They have captured over hundreds of the strongest wizards and witches, rendering them powerless. So, you, Potter, are next to nothing compared to him –"
"And yet I was the only one who could destroy him and put him into exile," said Harry before he could stop himself. He had promised that he would bear Snape, but he was not going to put up with his slander.
Snape glared at him, but he said nothing on the case. "The headmaster had informed me that you had to be taught Occlumency carefully. For starters, it has to –
"Sorry, but I have a question – sir," Harry said. He knew he shouldn't be interrupting him, but this question had been troubling him for a long time now, and he couldn't proceed with Occlumency without knowing the answer to it first.
Snape looked like he wanted to yell at him for intervening again, but he stayed silent and motioned for Harry to go on. He had no choice, too, and had to endure Harry just like Harry had to endure him.
"Well, I'm sure you know about the dream I had recently," Harry began, trying to stay on Snape's good side because he really needed an answer. "A vision, more like. Where I saw Clemonte and a stranger ch–"
"No need to recount that," Snape interjected, the impatience evident in his voice.
"Yeah. So, I can't understand from whose perspective I was watching the scene because V–"
"The Dark Lord is a very powerful wizard. I trust you know that, Potter?" Snape cut in, his mouth curling into a scowl. "He has supreme abilities, the likes of which other wizards can only think of. He can turn invisible, shape-shift, and even possess the body of another. Standing in front of Clemonte without giving his presence away is an effortless thing for him to do."
Harry's mouth went dry. Voldemort was there?! Right in front of Clemonte? Was he invisible?
"But, how is it possible?" he asked in a daze.
"Sir, Potter."
"All right. How is it possible, sir?" said Harry impatiently, "The Daily Prophet hinted that Clemonte was a powerful wizard himself. Couldn't he sense him –"
"Were you not paying attention?!" Snape snarled, "The Dark Lord is –"
"Very powerful, I know." Harry glowered at him. "You can stop with the compliments because Clemonte isn't exactly weak, either."
He had hit a spot. Snape stared daggers at him and spoke in a threateningly low voice, "I am warning you, Potter. Change your attitude, or you would end up like your good-for-nothing father." He narrowed his eyes and surveyed Harry over his hooked nose. "People say that you look just like him, and I can't disagree. You share many similarities with him, I daresay. Strutting around as if you owned the place and being a huge nuisance..."
Now both of them had crossed a line. It was Harry's turn to stare daggers at Snape as he almost spat out the words, "My dad didn't strut! And you're the one being a nuisance!"
Snape's scowl turned into a mocking leer. "Judging by how misguided and unaware you are, I'm surprised that you're the one taking Occlumency. Maybe you should drop it, don't you think?"
It was taking every ounce of Harry's strength to not jinx Snape right then and there. He was really getting on his nerves.
"I am perfectly capable of learning Occlumency," Harry snapped, gritting his teeth, "So here's the thing – stop wasting time and get on with your lesson so we can be done with it."
The second he said those words, he felt instant regret. They were too disdainful, and Harry feared that Snape might take away House Points for his 'improper conduct'. But Snape merely gave him a glare and stood up from his desk.
"Very well," he said, positioning himself in the middle of the room. "We shall begin. Take your position right there." He gestured to a point five feet in front of him.
Harry immediately obeyed, thanking Merlin that he didn't lose any precious points during the heated argument. Now that they were officially beginning, he promised himself that he would stay on his best behaviour, regardless of whatever Snape might say about his dad or him.
"Occlumency is a very advanced branch of magic," Snape started, twirling his wand between his crooked fingers, "As I had affirmed before, it requires a direct sense of focus and sheer will. You will be objected to difficult things that may seem out of your control, but that is what Occlumency will help you with. It will block unwanted forces trying to enter your mind and messing with your memories and thoughts. Are you following me, Potter?"
"Yes, sir."
"The art of getting full access to someone's mind is Legilimency," Snape continued, "The better a wizard is at Legilimency, the more access he'd gain to his victim's mind."
"So, it's like...reading someone's thoughts?" Harry asked.
"That's one part of it, yes. But it's not just reading the thoughts; it is also taking ownership of them and changing them in a way that can create trouble for the targeted person. However, the effectiveness of a Legilimens depends upon the distance existing between him and his subject. For your case, the Dark Lord is not physically close to you, but you two share minds, causing you to share emotions, feelings, and sometimes thoughts and memories as well. The Dark Lord is the best Legilimens the wizarding world has ever seen, thus making the task of manipulating you and showing you visions – both real and fake, easier. He may not have full access, but he still has more than an average Legilimens with the same distance and proximity would have."
The more Snape talked, the more everything made sense to Harry. He recalled Dumbledore telling him that Voldemort had transferred a part of himself to Harry the first time he tried to kill him, which included the state of his mind and feelings. Now, once again back in his body, he had started to use this connection. Being an excellent Legilimens only gave him an additional advantage.
But what really was creating dread in Harry was the fact that Snape was proficient at Legilimency himself, which made Harry think – all those moments when he had the unsettling feeling that Snape could read minds, was he right? Could Snape read his mind whenever he wanted to? And since he had said that distance mattered, could he do it more effectively as he was physically close to Harry? Like right now? Could he read his mind, see the thoughts he was thinking, at this very moment?
Harry started to feel a slight thumping at his temple. All this pondering was bringing on a headache, which he was sure would become more agonising once he began learning. Truth be told, he felt like all this Legilimency business seemed much harder than Occlumency.
"Hence, one might wonder what one can do to prevent such an obscure aspect of magic," Snape was saying as Harry zoned back in, "And this is where Occlumency comes along. It is the most effective way to shield an unfriendly force from entering one's mind. But that depends upon the acquired skills."
He paused to contemplate Harry and then continued, his thin lips turning into a smirk, "So it all comes back to you, Potter. How much skill do you have?"
Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Well, that depends on how well you would teach them to me."
Snape's smirk immediately turned into a frown. "Careful with your tongue, or you might end up losing house points."
The anger in Harry rose up, but he bit his tongue to stop himself from lashing out. He knew that Snape was getting under his skin on purpose, so he could achieve a chance to take away points from him. But Harry was determined to not let him do that.
"Let's move on," Snape declared meanwhile and swished his long robes as he increased the distance between Harry and himself. "The key to competent Occlumency is how well one manages to keep one's mind calm and cool. Fully empty, like a void, where thoughts and memories simply disappear."
"What?" Harry blurted out.
"I said, Potter, that you have to keep your mind cool, calm and empty. Completely devoid of thoughts or emotions."
"But how am I supposed to do that?" Then added, "Sir?"
"Curious, aren't you?" Snape said, "It takes sheer will, focus, and commitment to make your mind empty. Legilimency works at its finest when the victim's mind, and therefore his thoughts and memories, are left unguarded, which means he is not aware of the mind's contents and does not have control over them. Such times are during sleep or in a state of unconsciousness."
At these words, a realisation hit Harry like a ton of bricks. The strange dream about that strange door – he always saw it when he was asleep. And the vision where he saw Clemonte, he was unconscious at that time by some unseen force or something. But one thing was for sure – Voldemort was hard at work.
"So, I need to make my mind blank?" Harry asked, feeling like this was the most challenging task ever.
"Yes, Potter," Snape stated, "You have to keep your mind clean of everything. Entirely empty and spotless."
"But how?!" Harry asked with exasperation, "My brain is very chaotic these days, if you must know, professor."
Snape glared at him. "That does not matter! What matters is your sense of will and devotion. So I'd suggest that you should stop blabbering and start giving your complete focus to the task!"
Harry felt his fists tighten, but he held his anger and did what Snape told him to do. He closed his eyes and focused on his mind, imagining it as a space that consisted of nothing at all.
"While you commit to this task, I'll enter your mind," Snape said, "and your job would be to force me out. Prevent me from getting into your mind and having a look at your thoughts, emotions or memories. You are not allowed to use your wand right now because your ability to force your invader away needs to be done through your concentration and focus. Are you following me, Potter?"
But Harry didn't answer him. He was having a very difficult time trying to free his brain from things that were considered trivial at the moment. His emotions were running very high, which kept producing thoughts. The reason behind this was pure anger.
He felt anger running through his being, like blood shooting through his veins, and it wasn't Voldemort's anger; it was his own.
He was angry at Snape for belittling him, angry at Dumbledore for making him learn such a difficult thing from his least favourite teacher, angry at Voldemort for creating this connection between them, angry at the world for giving him the burdensome title of the Boy Who Lived. He realised he hated his fate, hated his life, hated himself for allowing all of this to happen.
At every passing thought, which became progressively worse, his anger surged higher and higher until it got to the point where he was sure he'd burst in a fit of rage. He wanted to vent out this anger by striking something, so right now, Snape's already punchable face looked like a tempting source.
Harry imagined himself hitting his hooked nose and seeing the blood ooze out of it. The thought alone was relishing...
Whoa, calm down there! A little voice in his mind exclaimed. You're thinking like a psychopath. The lesson is making you lose control.
He had to agree. The challenging task was too much.
I can't do it, he thought indignantly. It's very complicated for me.
Yes, you can. You just need a little bit of patience. And pure resolve, the same little voice replied.
Harry closed his eyes firmly and concentrated on his task again. This time, he gave it his all and pictured his mind as an empty void that consisted of nothing.
He was making good progress – until Snape uttered his next words.
"I'm going to enter your mind now, Potter," he declared, "Try to resist me."
In a panic, Harry's eyes flew open, but it was too late. Snape had already cast the spell.
"Legilimens!" he exclaimed, ejecting a thin white light from his wand, which collided with Harry.
Instantly, a heavy force invaded Harry's mind, making it feel it had turned to lead. The force, that had such a power he was sure he couldn't overcome, was pushing itself into his mind. The headache was getting even worse. And to top it all off, memories started to flash before his eyes at lightning speed.
He saw Dudley laughing with his mates, Ron raving something about Quidditch, Hermione correcting his answers, Cho looking at him with her soft brown eyes, Hagrid tending to Norbert, Dumbledore smiling, Voldemort baring his teeth...
It was confusing. It was chaotic. It was like a war unfolding inside his head. He wanted desperately for it to stop but didn't know how he could.
He barely heard Snape yelling at him. "Try to resist me, Potter! Don't let me enter your mind! Are you even trying?!"
Amidst the havoc, his brain was able to form one comprehensible thought:
I have to resist him.
Immediately, Harry envisaged his wand and pulled it out of his robes without hesitation. Completely forgetting Snape's orders, he directed his wand at the Legilimens and shouted, "EXPELLIARMUS!"
A scarlet light emitted from his wand, hitting the right target because all of a sudden, the war inside his head ceased. His mind was his own again, but his headache was painfully vivid, pounding against his temple like a drum. He rubbed the affected area, trying to ebb away the discomfort, as he took in the scene before him.
Snape's wand was lying a few feet away from them, but its owner looked furious.
"What did I tell you?!" he snapped, "You were not permitted to use your wand! Are you that much of an imbecile that you cannot understand mere words?!"
Harry stared at him.
"It's not my fault!" he exploded, "You shot your bloody spell without any warning, and I wasn't prepared! You should ha–"
"SILENCE!" Snape shouted, glaring at Harry. "Do you think the Dark Lord would let you prepare yourself before entering your mind, Potter?"
"But that's not the point, is it?!" Harry retorted, forgetting to respect Snape. "I'm learning Occlumency for the first time! And my first lesson shouldn't have anything to do with Voldemort!"
His outburst left Snape speechless. Harry had never seen him this jolted before, but he couldn't pore on this further because Snape had gained an ugly look and had grabbed Harry roughly by the shoulders to push him against a wall. He was so close that Harry could easily see the empty pitch-black pits that were his eyes.
"Don't you dare speak of the Dark Lord's name," he hissed at him.
Harry looked into his coal-like eyes defiantly. "I will speak of it. Because fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," he stated, remembering Dumbledore's words.
Snape's scowl deepened. He let go of Harry but still held him with a cold gaze.
"10 points from Gryffindor for your absolutely rude behaviour."
Harry's mouth dropped open."What?! But you're the one being –"
"Let's have some respect here, shall we?" Snape drawled, "Unless you want to lose more points."
That silenced Harry. He stared at Snape with eyes full of loathing.
"We shall start again," Snape meanwhile said, oblivious to Harry's hatred. "But this time, under no circumstances are you allowed to use your wand. If you did so, I will personally report you to the headmaster and tell him that Occlumency is not something a fool like you can learn. Do you understand me, Potter?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry, gritting his teeth.
"Now, clear your head and be ready."
Harry sighed and obeyed his tormentor once again...
Hermione was restless. She opened and closed books a few times, tried to study but kept giving up due to lack of concentration, took several walks around the common room, pulled at her robes, told Fred and George off for testing one of their joke products on a first-year, stared into the fireplace, and sat back down on her usual table various times.
Ron had noticed her odd behaviour, and he immediately knew the reason behind it.
"You're waiting for Harry, aren't you?" he asked her as she took a seat on their table again.
Hermione opened her mouth to lie, but something in her converted it into the truth.
"Well, yes!" she declared, "I'm nervous and worried about how the lesson must be going. I wonder if Snape is being any better to Harry or –"
"Don't worry," Ron cut in, shrugging, "Harry will be fine."
But Hermione shook her head and drummed her hands on the table in agitation.
Eventually, Ron went to bed. Nobody could blame him; they had a very long day. Nonetheless, Hermione stayed in the common room, staring at the portrait hole that served as the entrance, waiting for it to swing open to reveal Harry.
But it was much later when it finally did. The common room was almost deserted by then, with a few sixth years poring over their books at one corner and a couple conversing on the couch near the fireplace. The room was dimly lit with flickering candles and the warm fire, creating a sleepy environment. Hermione had sunk into a stupor as she waited for Harry, but her eyes snapped awake when he finally entered the room.
Involuntarily, her face split into a smile at the sight of him, but the latter didn't notice her right away. He was completely absorbed in his thoughts when he entered the room and only looked up when Hermione called to him.
"Oh, hey, Hermione," he said, smiling back. It was nice to see that she was waiting for him, even if it had gotten late. He couldn't see Ron anywhere, but he was okay with it.
"How did your lesson go?" Hermione asked as Harry took a seat beside her.
"Awful."
"Oh." Her smile wavered. "I'm sorry to hear that. Was it Snape?"
"Definitely. He's an absolute jerk." Harry sighed and rubbed his temple. "And I'm having the worst headache. Comes really close to the pain I feel when my scar acts up."
"The Cephalalgia Potion will fix that up in seconds," Hermione told him, "I get plenty of headaches myself, and it always does. I'll fetch it for you."
"No, no. Don't bother." Harry yawned and rested his head on the table. "I just need a good night's sleep, and it will go away."
Hermione sighed and regarded him with pity. "You should go to bed, then."
"You don't want to hear what happened?"
"I want to. But you look utterly exhausted," she answered, "You can tell it to me in the morning. Besides, it's better this way because Ron would also be there, and he wouldn't miss out. So, it's fine."
In reply, Harry just looked at her silently. Hermione couldn't hold his gaze, so she directed her eyes on the book before her.
Harry noticed how her skin was giving off a warm glow under the candlelight. Her eyes appeared worried, and he knew it was because of him. He sometimes couldn't understand how she could care for others so intensely. She helped Neville a lot and always supported him, she couldn't bear to see Ron in a feud, and of course, she worried for Harry himself on another level. Not that he found this quality of hers bothersome, he sometimes just had to wonder why Hermione was like that.
It was her character, he knew. But despite everything, he still found her ability to worry a lot sweet - not because he liked seeing her troubled, of course, but because she never hesitated to show she cared for him.
For instance, Harry had been gone for almost two hours, and he could tell that Hermione had waited for him through it all, which was why he couldn't let her efforts go to waste.
"But you waited for me, didn't you?" he now spoke up, causing her to look at him. "You wanted to know how my lesson must be going."
Hermione once again averted her eyes. "Yes, I was very uneasy just by thinking about it. I couldn't help worrying how Snape must be treating you, if he was testing both your anger and your patience –
"Well, he wasn't treating me very unfairly," Harry said, straightening up. "I only lost 10 points, but that's huge compared to the normal number of points he usually takes."
Hermione smiled a little. "That's something. But you should go to sleep, Harry. Your mind needs some well-deserved rest."
"And what about you?"
"I'll be fine, really," she assured him, "It wouldn't be very ethical of me to make you recount unpleasant things. Especially when you're having a splitting headache and your mind is disturbed."
"But what if I want to recount those unpleasant things?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow. "For you?"
These words almost made Hermione sigh. Oh no, not this part again...
By 'this part', she meant the side of Harry where he made such quirky remarks that could easily be mistaken for being romantic. She was in a love-hate relationship with this aspect of his because it always made her blush the hardest.
"Well, if you want to," she said, hiding her red cheeks with her hands. "But I really suggest you shouldn't."
Harry grinned at her. "Then I am not going to listen to you this time."
Hermione laughed. "If you say so."
At first, she thought he was kidding, but Hermione saw that he actually wanted to tell her. So she settled her elbows on the table and turned to face him properly, indicating that he had her full attention.
"Okay. Like I'd said, Snape wasn't treating me too unfairly," Harry started, resting his head on the table, using his arms as a pillow once again. "But that didn't make him any less mean..."
For the following half an hour, Harry informed Hermione all about the lesson. She was proving to be the perfect audience as she listened to him intently and never interrupted.
The more he talked, the more Harry felt at ease. The velvet tablecloth, the common room, and Hermione's company were all radiating comfort. They were even soothing his headache, which he could tell had definitely gotten better.
It felt nice talking to someone about such distressing events. Particularly someone he knew wouldn't judge him in any way. Harry was sure that Ron would have disapproved of him obeying Snape and calling him "Sir." But Hermione didn't object at all. She understood him completely.
"Oh, Harry," she now said as he finished his account, "It all sounds so horrible."
"It was." He nodded. "But it's not just that, Hermione. It's also very difficult." He let out a dispirited sigh before adding, "I don't understand how I can master Occlumency when my mind is so busy these days."
Hermione sighed, too. "I know it must seem very challenging, but don't sell yourself short. You learned the Patronus Charm, remember?"
"But that requires simple spell work," Harry argued, "This one doesn't. It needs me to clear my mind by concertation only."
'Still, I believe in you, Harry," Hermione told him, giving him an encouraging smile, "I really think you can do it. It was only your first lesson, and first lessons tend to be misleading."
But Harry shook his head. "I don't think it's just the first lesson..."
"Listen to me," Hermione expressed in a firm voice. She was not going to give up until he gained confidence in himself. "You are excellent at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and so much that you are going to teach it to your fellow students! Doesn't that make you realize how amazing you are at this?"
"But Occlumency –"
"Is just another part of the subject," she finished for him, "A subject that you're incredible at. And if you can excel at such a field that so many people find difficult, then Occlumency should be nothing for you."
Despite himself, Harry smirked.
'So, are you indirectly suggesting that I should become an Auror?"
"I'm not, but you would be an outstanding one, that's for sure." Hermione beamed.
Harry contemplated her words. " I guess you're right. It's just the first lesson and Snape..."
"Shh, don't think about it too much right now," said Hermione, "Do that later."
Harry gave her a tired smile. "Thanks, Hermione. For believing in me." He yawned. "You're great," he added before yawning again. Although the recounting had made his headache slightly better, it had exhausted him even more. He felt like he had no energy left, so he took off his glasses and nestled amongst his arms again.
Hermione tsk-tsked humorously and advised him, "You should go to bed now, or you're going to fall asleep right here."
"I don't mind," Harry answered sleepily, closing his eyes, "I don't have the strength to go upstairs."
"You must be very tired, huh?"
"Try Occlumency yourself, and then we'll talk."
"Okay, okay," she gave in, smiling because he was too adorable. "I'll wake you up when I'll go to bed."
"Sounds good," he responded, barely audible.
"Yes. Nevertheless, you must know..."
But she trailed off as he had already fallen asleep.
The number of students in the common room had also decreased by this time. Now, besides Harry and Hermione, only the couple remained. The whole place was ejecting sleepy vibes, but Hermione was more than awake. She had planned to start studying Arithmancy for the OWLs. However, the task was proving to be impossible with Harry sleeping just inches beside her. Her eyes kept glancing from the old book pages to his appealing face. This guilty action got so frequent that Hermione just conceded defeat, closed her book, and gazed at Harry.
A peaceful and calm expression had overtaken his face in his slumber, showing no sign of the strong emotions he always displayed when he was awake. Hermione realized she loved watching him sleep, because at least this time she could see him completely unconcerned about anything at all, making him look like a normal boy living a normal life.
In spite of that, she firmly believed that him not being a normal wizard was for the best. He was doing this world a huge favour by being Voldemort's target and the one who had put him into exile – because he had the potential of saving it from the wrath of Dark Magic. He was also so determined, so brave and so passionate that Hermione was sure that he could easily face his enemy without hesitation. Harry just wasn't aware of it yet.
Still, it would have been great if his life was filled with less tension...
Without realizing what she was doing, Hermione reached forward to gently stroke Harry's hair. He stirred a little by her touch but didn't wake up.
I just want you to be happy and untroubled, she thought sadly, looking at his tranquil face. I want the best for you. I love you, you know.
Of course, he couldn't hear her, even if she had said it out loud. Her fingers ran through his short messy hair that covered the top of his forehead and pushed it back softly to reveal his infamous scar.
The sight of it saddened her even more, but she reminded herself that it was for the best. That Harry was the right person to be chosen to have this mark – and this life. Besides, she was here to carry the bulk of his concerns.
Smiling a little at the silly thought, Hermione caressed Harry's forehead. It must have been comforting for him because he still didn't wake up.
Amidst her daydreaming, Hermione then did something that would make her future self astounded. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the fact that he was asleep, or maybe it was because she was too love-struck at the moment. Whatever it was, Hermione absentmindedly leaned forward and kissed Harry's forehead, right on his scar.
