Hullo! How's everyone doing?

As usual big thanks to my reviewers and anyone who favorited, or followed. I'm honestly surprised that there are still newbies coming across this story, seeing it's over 90 chapters in and going, "Screw it! Let's binge read this thing!"

If Someone Cared Enough

Chapter Ninety-Six: Practice Makes Perfect

Severus and Lily faced each other down, eyes locked in deadest seriousness. They didn't blink, didn't dare so much as flinch, the intensity of their gaze suffocating as it was overwhelming.

Only once did Lily's gaze shift, glancing at the wand clutched in Severus's hand by his side.

Around them, books and papers sat scattered on the floor, her desk chair knocked over, part of her bedspread pulled from the mattress in a scuffle.

Slowly, Severus raised his wand. The stifling silence of the room made it even more imposing an action.

"You'll need to try harder, Lily," he warned.

Lily narrowed her eyes, "Don't waste time telling me things I already know. Just do it."

"Very well," Severus agreed softly.

He pointed his wand straight between Lily's eyes.

"Clear your mind," Severus instructed, "Legimilens!"

The mental impact still sent Lily reeling physically despite having gone through this so many times before. It always felt like being smacked in the forehead, like someone shoving her head backwards with the palm of her hand. It didn't necessarily hurt—Sev was far too careful for fear of hurting her—but it was forceful like a push, just enough to knock her back and make her scrambled to regain her footing.

Steeling herself, she focused on bringing select memories to the forefront of her mind. Severus had warned her that revealing you could Occlude by forcing a person from your mind usually did little to deter them in doing it again. In fact, Voldemort or any of his more skilled followers would take that as a challenge, making them more inclined to tear through your mind like tissue paper.

That's why it was better to let them believe you had no skill, according to Severus. If Voldemort entered someone's mind, better to let him see the ruse you put up from your memories and believe you merely had no usual information to provide. Fighting his presence in your head would only make him more convinced you had something to hide.

So Lily pulled forth 'safe' memories; mundane recollections of what she had to eat, the frustration of being yelled at by Mrs. Mulligan for stepping on her flowers, things worthless to a roving eye. She thought of her laughing as Petunia had slipped on the last step on the stairs, the mild argument that followed—even on much better terms sisters still bickered.

She thought of the man on the bus who had stared too intently at her on her commute with Tuney to get groceries, how he made herself conscious about the length of skirt she'd chosen, how she tugged it fretfully over her knees and refused to meet the man's leering gaze. He'd only stopped after Petunia turned and met his stare head on with a heated glare, unblinking until the man had realized her gaze had attracted the attention of several others and prompted him to skulk to the back of the bus.

Just thinking about it still bothered her. Her sister's muttered admonishment of 'creep' was all too true; the man had been twice their age and he'd stared at Lily like she was some fold out page in a dirty magazine. The way his gaze had lingered on her legs—

Severus probing presence in Lily's mind suddenly lifted, her head feeling a lot less cramped and fuzzy.

"Sev?" Lily asked, baffled as to why he'd stopped. They didn't even get to her trying to push him out of her mind. Yes, it was a last resort since feigning an inability in Occluding was safer, but it was still a necessary part of her practice to ensure she actually could defend herself if someone used their time in her head to try and harm her. Severus had warned her the skilled Legilimens could mess with your head, whisper doubt to you, force you to recall painful things you'd rather forget.

So why was Severus stopping when she needed to practice?

"You're getting off track," Severus said with a sigh, "Having a memory of insignificant information but significant emotion is good for a decoy, but you have to be in control of the emotions you present. It's an act, Lily. You have to act upset, but not actually be upset."

"Oh," Lily flushed; she'd gotten so preoccupied with that creep on the bus that she'd forgotten Severus was seeing everything she was thinking. She hadn't told him about that incident. "But wouldn't being actually upset make the ruse more convincing? We want a person to think that those thoughts are really the only importance in my head, right? We're trying to make it seem as though I have nothing useful for them to find."

Severus nodded, "That's true, but just allowing your emotions to take the reigns when you remember something could prove problematic."

Lily tilted her head to the side, "How do you mean?"

"Well, how does the human mind usually work?" Severus posed, "You think of something that makes you angry, you dwell on it, maybe on how you could have handle it or what you wish you'd said. Then perhaps you berate yourself for having held your tongue, you think of other times you wished you'd said or done something differently. You're mind drifts, recalls one of those times, now you're angry about another memory."

"Let's take that last memory you brought up," Severus went on, "Some lousy jerk on the bus made you feel uncomfortable. He was in the wrong yet you want to blame yourself for what you wore or for not telling him off—don't try and deny it, I was in your head, I felt it. What he did isn't on you; he's well older enough to know what is and isn't appropriate to do, how he shouldn't treat women."

Severus looked at Lily with a reserved softness, something only she ever saw from him.

"Still you blame yourself for merely existing when the blame rests on him," Severus continued, "It makes you feel uncomfortable, unhappy, maybe a little self-loathing."

He looked knowingly at Lily, "Can you think of any other time a guy may have made you feel like that?"

Lily bit her lip, eyes askance, "When Avery attacked me."

Severus watched Lily carefully, "Do you think there's a possibility you would have eventually been drawn to that memory while I was in your head."

After a moment's deliberation, Lily nodded, "Probably. They both made me feel…so similar. Like, dirty….a skin crawling feeling."

Severus wrapped an arm around Lily, drawing her close, "And that's why having control over the emotions attached to a memory is so important. If you can't control how the emotions makes you feel, you lose control over what other memories that feeling may remind you of. Your mind jumps around, and what we don't want is any memories of Avery or things of that ilk drifting towards thoughts that could be related by too secret to give up, like their ties to You-Know-Who."

Lily sighed, "Which in turn could make me unwittingly think of his horcruxes…you're right, I need to focus more."

"It's not so much about focusing," Severus stated, "As it is about learning to let a memory go or…accepting it."

Lily looked questioningly at Severus, "Accepting? You mean like I should be okay it happened or something?"

Severus shook his head, "Not exactly. I've been reading a lot on Occulemncy and it talks a lot about memories having a specific hold over us. How we grow, what we take away from an experience. Holding onto too many negative feelings can leave you emotionally vulnerable, something that isn't exactly safe around a Legilimens. The books say that its important to focus on less what a traumatic event did to you and more what it failed to do to you."

This only made Lily even more confused, "Failed. I don't get it."

"Take my childhood, Lily," Severus said, "Pretty much any memory from my home; none of them are good. I could focus on what a bastard my father was, the unfairness of mum taking her own abuse at his hands out on me."

"Or," Severus picked up Lily's chair and sat down, "I could focus on how despite all that…I didn't become my father like everyone in town was so convinced I would."

Lily quickly came to Severus side, kneeling to place a hand on his knee, "Not everyone."

"But enough of them," Severus pointed out with a sad smile, "And I guess I used to resent them all for that too, but now I guess," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I guess I can't really blame them for thinking that. Supposedly, a lot of awful people out there didn't just wake up one day and decide to be cruel; they were built into that by the awful things that happened to them. For all I know, maybe my father could have been someone better, but the world let him down too many times for him to turn out all right. I know I almost ended up the same, I was going to join You-Know-Who in retaliation to how others treated me."

Severus looked at Lily, "With how bad my life was, it's no wonder so many people assumed I would turn out bad in the end; they must have all thought the deck was stacked against me from the start."

"Oh Sev…" Lily said softly, leaning up on her knees to wrap her arms around Severus's neck.

"My point though is this," Severus went on, holding Lily close, "I can't clear my mind and keep a cool head if I focus too much on the negativities attached to my memories. I can feign being upset if it makes the memory more convincing to someone poking around in my head, but if I want to ensure my control doesn't slip, I need to have already let go of the bitterness I felt."

He pulled away to look Lily in the eye, "I'll probably always have some hard feelings about my father. Perhaps my mother too; though I'm sure she tried her best with me. But at this point, I need to accept that fixating on what could have been or how things should have been won't change the past. I can't go back and fix my life, Lily, but I can be grateful that I made it through and found my way again."

"And that's what you need to do as well," Severus added, taking Lily's hands in his own, "Stop focusing on how wrong people like Avery were, people like that man on the bus, and think about how they aren't enough to break you. You're better than them because you're kind, compassionate, considerate. They'll always be monsters and someday they'll get their karma, I'm sure of it. Consider your ability to smile even after what happened as some…some giant middle finger to them."

Lily snorted, quirking a brow, "A middle finger?"

"You can still find happiness, still enjoy life," Severus stated, "By living life to the fullest, you deprive them the satisfaction of having ruined your life. You prove that the damage they did is nothing time can't heal."

"So find the silver lining," Lily mused, "I think Professor Sprout once told me something similar."

She thought back to her Herbology professor, how even though she lost her case against her attacker, she found victory in having ever fought at all, in proving to that man that she wouldn't become some meek, broken thing because of what he did to her. She intimated that man with her tenacity and determination, in the ferocity with which she rallied against him.

And when the trial ended and she'd lost, she still left with her head held high, comforted by those in the crowd whose eyes had shown sympathy where the jury had not.

Severus nodded, "Exactly. I'm not telling you that you can't be upset by what happened. It was terrible and I'm still angry about it. But we'll have to learn how to control the anger, harness it, and manipulate it to our advantage so that anyone privy to our thoughts will think they know us so well when in reality they don't know us at all."

Lily looked at Severus, a brow raised questioningly, "Can I just say it's really weird to see you of all people recommending I don't let my emotions get the best of me?"

Severus raised a brow in return, "Can I just say that's a very 'Pot-calling-the-kettle-black' sort of statement, little miss hothead?"

Lily gave Severus a little push, a smile fighting to take over her face, "Hey, I'll have you know I'm getting better at that."

"Oh yes, you're much better than you were when you were nine," Severus drawled, "You used to yell at me until I agreed with you over the existence of the Easter Bunny."

"Hey! That was a hard myth to let go of," Lily argued, "It was part of my childhood. You basically told me my parents had lied to me all those years. You completely took the magic out of Easter Sunday."

"Why would a rabbit have eggs, Lily?" Severus questioned, "It's a bloody mammal. And how did either of those things relate to Christianity?"

Lily shrugged, "I was a kid, the religious aspects hardly even registered for me. With chocolate involved, I wasn't about to question it."

"And how would a rabbit paint the eggs, hm?" Severus pushed, slowly getting wrapped up in an age old argument of years gone by, "As if a rabbit would possess the dexterity for that."

"Maybe he had hands," Lily said teasingly.

She got the reaction she wanted, as Severus stiffened with horror.

"We've been over that before," he said slowly, "…a humanoid bunny would be terrifying."

Lily couldn't hold it in anymore, breaking out in a cackle and falling backwards on her bum, "I never get tired of freaking you out with that."

"I swear to Salazar, that nightmare is going to be my boggart," Severus said, scrubbing a hand over his face, "And stop laughing."

"But it's funny," Lily insisted amid a fit of giggles.

"It is not!" Severus declared loudly with a childish stamp of his foot.

Lily paused staring at Severus in shock.

Severus himself looked rather taken aback by his own actions.

The pair stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

Slowly, a grin edged itself across Lily's face, Severus valiantly fighting back one of his own.

Eventually, Lily broke into a new roar of laughter, Severus doing his able best not to join in, though the smirk on his face gave him away.

"So much for mastering our emotions," he muttered with a chuckle.

{page break}

On an empty hill in the English countryside, amidst the fog and darkness appeared a lone, hooded figure. Tall and slender, the figure stood imposingly, looking over the valley below him as the wind and rain whipped his cloak about him and plastered it to his frame like a second skin.

He could have warded out the weather, could have enchanted himself so that the rain and wind wouldn't bitingly dig into his bones, could have kept out the chill, but he didn't. There was little purpose to. The cold hadn't bothered him in a long time; the flesh little more than a shell to house the rotting malice and wicked heart buried within.

Descending the hillside as if on winged feet, he glided down towards the valley, unmindful of the claps of thunder and streaks of lightning making the ground itself quake. He was a force to be reckon with far greater than Mother Nature and matters that are more important required his attention.

A bolt of lightning struck a tree and enveloped the surrounding landscape in a red glow as the branches burst into flames. It lingered only briefly, before the relentlessness of the rain doused it out. That brief gleam of light lit up the jagged rocks and eroded stones before him, shadows clinging to craggy walls and crumbling archways before being plunged into darkness once more.

No matter, he knew where to go.

Effortlessly he slid through the once immaculate halls, now decayed and broken by unfathomable years of neglect. Harsh weathering had destroyed a formally vast and monolithic building, something its makers surely thought would stand the test of time.

No one could say for sure what this place had once been, the ruins stood in its place far too long for most anyone still living to remember it in its glory days. Not even he knew what it used to be. A manor would make the most sense, so isolated from any city or village it would serve no purpose as a building of business or politics. Still, whomever would build a building so far removed from any living sole was an outstanding recluse if no one knew to this day who ever owned it.

Regardless, these ruins served the present figure's purpose well.

Descending a section of fragmented stairs, he went deep underground, deep into damp earth and rot, far from wandering eyes. It was here he found what he sought.

Down along a row of barred cells sat one wretched form.

He sneered as he gazed down upon it.

"Lucius," he hissed.

The prone form before him whipped their head up, revealing a pale face covered by tangles of matter blonde hair. Stubble clung to his chin, grim to his teeth, nail dirty and as unkempt as the tattered robe he wore, reduced to nothing but rags.

"Master," Lucius croaked, "My Lord."

"These past days have not been kind to you," Voldemort observed with little concern.

Lucius blinked; had it only been days since he last saw the Dark Lord? He could scarcely tell. Hidden away from the sunlight, time bled together.

"My Lord," Lucius groveled weakly, "My Lord, I am sorry."

"For what?" Voldemort asked coldly, "For breaking my trust, or losing one of my most precious possessions?"

Lucius crawled forward on his hands and knees, too weak to stand, "Forgive me, My Lord, I did not know what it was…I-I still don't."

"But you knew it was important enough if I should bade you to keep it hidden," Voldemort cut him off, narrowing his eyes, "Yet you gave it away so carelessly."

"My Lord," Lucius scrambled for an excuse, "I only thought to advance our work on the school, to spread your power where Dumbledore was so sure it could not reach. I assumed it was a dark relic you had given me, something that could be utilize—"

Again Voldemort cut him off, "Something you decided to use for actions not ordered by me?"

Lucius gulped, paling further as Voldemort drew his wand.

"I expect my followers to be capable of few things, Lucius," Voldemort stated calmly, "Loyalty, a drive to achieve, a certain level of skill in magic—I have no use for those more talentless than Squibs—but above all I desire one thing."

He looked down on Lucius, scrutinizing him.

"Obedience," Voldemort said, "My followers must be capable of carrying out my plans. Only my plans. Plans have purpose, reason. They keep us on track for our goals without losing much needed ground," he glared at Lucius, "Like you lost me with the death of my Basilisk."

"My Lord, please," Lucius begged, "I had no idea the beast was even there. I-I had heard rumors, but how was I to know some wretched mudbloods and blood traitors could survive the Chamber."

"Underestimating an enemy," Voldemort intoned, "That's why you failed. That's why you failed me. Plans prevent such unnecessary follies."

He reached through the bars, taking Lucius chin in his hand.

"But you didn't have a plan," Voldemort said in a mocking, simpering voice, "Did you, Lucius? You merely had a pathetic idea to seize power of the school for yourself."

"For you!" Lucius bit out even as Voldemort's nails dug into his skin, "Seize power for you! My Lord, everything I did was merely to serve you. Forgive my impertinence in acting alone. I only live to serve."

"That's if I let you live at all," Voldemort said lowly, studying his wand.

Lucius felt his mouth go dry, staring terrified up at his master.

"My dear Lucius, I joke obviously," Voldemort crooned, Stroking Lucius face before releasing him.

Stepping back, he raised his wand, causing Lucius to cower and flinch away.

Rather than strike down the wizard before him, Voldemort pointed his wand to the dirty bowl by Lucius side. Instantly, water appeared in it.

Lacking any ounce of decorum, Lucius dove for the bowl with a strangle cry of joy, gulping down the blessedly cold liquid for the first time in days.

"Everyone makes mistakes," Voldemort said, watching with amusement as Lucius slobbered like a dog over his meager offering, "And I can be forgiving. Perhaps the diary was not meant for this world. Perhaps it was too…immature to be brought forth. I much rather prefer my later creations…one's that hold only the best…of my skills."

Lucius said nothing as he finished his water, eyeing the Dark Lord with confusion, not fully understanding what his master was going on about.

"My other creations truly capture my greatness," Voldemort went on, "Though that one would have been a…useful last resort. Yes…the others will do just fine should I ever need them."

"My Lord?" Lucius questioned.

"But I dare say I will not be trusting any of them with you again, Lucius," Voldemort said sharply.

Lucius flinched.

Voldemort gave a facsimile of a smile, his voice soft and gently again once more, "Oh, but I do think you've learned your lesson, dear Lucius. You've had plenty of time to sit and," he glanced around the dungeon, "Think about what you did."

"I am most remorseful, My Lord," Lucius insisted vehemently.

"Of course you are," Voldemort soothed, bidding Lucius to stand. He offered no help as the frail man struggled to his feet.

"I have even thought of a way for you to make it up to me," Voldemort revealed, "A chance for redemption."

"Anything," Lucius gasped, "I'll do anything."

What Voldemort said next was lost in the howling of the storm, but Lucius eyes grew wide as he listened with rapt attention.

"I trust I can count on you, Lucius?" Voldemort asked softly.

Swallowing weakly, Lucius nodded, shaking at first but quickly with more fevor.

"Yes," he swore, "Yes, My Lord. I will not fail you."

Voldemort patted his cheek, "See to it that you don't. I have utmost faith in your ties with the ministry. Don't let that faith be proven wrong…"

"Take this," Voldemort ordered, pulling a rusted metal key from his pocket, "And go home to rest. I expect you to get to work on this mission in a few days time."

Lucius hesitantly grabbed the key and was instantly whisked away, the portkey set to Malfoy Manor.

"One less thing to idle over," Voldemort said to himself, smirking in satisfaction. He turned to leave when someone called out to him from several cells down.

"My Lord," Came a woman's raspy cry, "My Lord, I beg your forgiveness."

Voldemort chuckled to himself, turning back towards the cells to see the filthy, crazed face of his most devoted follower.

"Bellatrix," he said in faux surprise, "I almost forgot you were down here."

"My Lord, forgive me," Bellatrix cried, eyes bulging madly in her skull, "Haven't I always been a loyal servant?"

Voldemort observed her critically, taking in the woman's skeletal frame. Perhaps he had forgotten her down here. How many months had it been since Christmas?

"You usually serve me well," Voldemort conceded, inwardly sneering at the way Bella rolled her eyes into her skull in rapture at his praise, "But you disobeyed an order Bella."

He leaned forward towards Bella, not even flinching at the smell of her rancid breath.

"You were to wear your mask, Bellatrix," Voldemort hissed, "But you didn't. Now all of Wizarding Britain is looking for you since you freed Avery and Mulciber."

"I merely want to prove my devotion to you, My Lord," Bellatrix sniveled, "I'm not ashamed of where I stand, I won't hid my proud allegiance to your name in front of those wretched blood traitors in the ministry."

"And by exposing yourself, you put the entire Lestrange name under suspicion," Voldemort snapped, shoving Bellatrix away from him, "Vaults inaccessible while your estates were under investigation, funds cut off while your brother-in-law tried to save face. I can't gather an army if I have nothing to promise them, Bella. Do you think those wretched werewolves and stupid half breeds would join us if they knew we really weren't going to give them the stability and safety we promised? We need things to barter with, bribes to win their favor, or at the very least their compliance."

Voldemort turned away from her, "You're recklessness could have dealt a heavy blow to my cause. And here I was under the impression you had no greater wish than to see me succeed."

"I do!" Bellatrix all but shouted, before being cowed by her master's stare, "Master, I have only ever been loyal to you."

"And your husband?" Voldemort questioned with a half smirk.

Bellatrix shook her head furiously, "I only married him to make stronger alliances for you, My Lord. Just as you asked."

Voldemort hummed, feigning to ponder something, "I suppose you have been a useful servant."

"My devotion is endless," Bella insisted passionately.

Voldemort cupped her chin, smirking at how Bella seemed so bewitched by his very touch as she closed her eyes to relish it.

"I suppose I should release you," Voldemort said, causing Bellatrix to let out a gasp of excitement.

Voldemort stepped away suddenly, causing Bella to stumble forward against the bars.

Voldemort gave her a cold smile, "In a few more days."

With that, he strode from the dungeon, Bellatrix's frantic cries music to his ears.

If anyone has scene the horror anthology movie Holidays, then you already know that a humanoid Easter bunny is very, very creepy.

Everyone's been wondering what happened to Lucius, well here it is. And Bella too! Bet some of you have been wondering where that girl got off too. Well here she is.

Sort of building my own theories for how Legilimency and Occlumency work based off of various interpretations I've seen in the Hp fanfic scene. I imagine it would take a lot of control to bring forth only the memories you want seen and you'd need to have a good handle on your mind and emotions to keep your mind from wandering the way minds often do.

Review please :)