Chapter Ten
Lessons

The next day, Harry was only too happy to ditch Ron and Hermione and practically sprinted to the Room of Requirement. Harry opened it up, and slapped the diary onto the small pedestal inside, and turned, seeing Cecilia, standing there, as tall and elegant as ever.

Her mind was fascinating - Harry could feel her, almost like another serpent, in the waves, brushing up against her - not violently, or roughly, but smooth as silk. Her mind was so fast - she could parse through things like someone flipping through a book. It was impressive.

Harry surprised herself with how bright her grin was.

"Hello, Harriet."

"Cecilia!" she said. "I missed you!"

"You and I spoke all summer, though."

Harry laughed. "It's not the same! I missed speaking like this. It's much better than writing to you in a diary."

Cecilia smiled, eyes glowing with warmth. "Would you like to learn some magic?"

"Yes!" Harry shouted. "Can I know how to do the wand thing where you bat spells aside like they're nothing?"

"Not for a short time yet, sadly. Maybe next year." Harry made a face, and Cecilia just chuckled at her. "First, I want to see how far you've gotten," Cecilia told her. "Look at me."

Harry met her eyes, and dove eagerly into the pool of water. But instead of emotions and memories, she found herself facing a terrifyingly strong current - she was thrown, instantly, back into her own head. Cecilia flicked through some memories of her writing in the diary, before she looked away. Again, so fast!

"I see," Cecilia said. "It appears that Occlumency will come less easily to you than Legilimency did."

"It will?" Harry asked. "How do you know?"

"You have a remarkable ability to penetrate other people's minds, Harriet. But your skill at keeping others out is something far closer to average. In a battle of Legilimens, it is generally the person who has greater skill in Occlumency who comes out ahead."

"So what's the point of learning advanced Legilimency?"

Cecilia nodded. "The advantage that a skilled Legilimens has is not in the strength of a direct attack, but rather the subtlety of their intrusion. The best defenses in the world are useless if you are unaware you are being attacked."

"I think I get that," Harry said. "We're practicing Occlumency, then?"

"I am well aware that it is not the most exciting magic - it is difficult, and strenuous. But you have been away from here all summer, so that can wait until next time. It is something we will have to practice - that is the only way to improve."

"Okay," Harry said. She didn't want to push it, but it sounded like she was getting out of having her mind raided today.

"So." Cecilia strode out to the circle, and Harry followed. "We are going to learn a bit of strategy."

"Strategy?" Harry asked.

"Yes." She flicked her wand, and a shining silver sphere encased her. "You're going to try to break my shield. Extra credit will be awarded if you can."

"Extra credit?"

Cecilia winked.

Harry steeled herself, and raised her wand. "Expelliarmus!" The bright red spell coursed through the air towards Cecilia's shield… and bounced right off, rebounding through the air.

It hit Harry, right in the chest, and threw her off her feet, her wand flying from her hand. Harry was glad that she'd forgotten that Black family ring, now. She had to awkwardly get up, and jog over to her fallen wand. That clearly wasn't going to work. If she knew Cecilia, there was some point to be made here.

She pried a little at Cecilia's mind, but it was locked up tight - or, rather, that wasn't quite the right way to put it. It was a whirlwind, one that she couldn't pierce, the dark currents too quick and too churning to discern anything but the most surface emotions - amusement, mostly.

She cast a few other spells - a Full-Body Bind, a Finger-Removing Hex, and even a Babbling Hex, but none of those worked. They all bounced off - like the Disarming Charm did.

Harry stopped, and pondered for a second. Clearly, hexes and jinxes weren't going to work.

"Incendio!" Fire shot from the tip of her wand, and tickled the barrier, but didn't push through. Cecilia smiled at her, through the silver-white haze.

"Better," she said.

Harry frowned, and tried something else. "Diffindo!" The blue arc of light again, bounced off. She wasn't sure what else would work.

"Giving up?" Cecilia taunted.

"No," Harry said. "Not yet."

"Well, you're on the right track," she said.

"I'm pretty sure I don't know any spells to get through that barrier."

"So give up."

Harry shook her head. She considered the problem - the shield reflected every jinx, hex, or curse she sent. The three charms she tried - Expelliarmus, Incendio, and Diffindo, had pretty much bounced off. So what to try? It was a shield - not unlike the one that blockaded them inside the circle.

The spell that had made the biggest dent back then had been - well, Harry was pretty sure she could cast it. She'd never tried before.

It was the last thing she could think of, though, so she raised her wand, and copied the funny arc that Cecilia had made. "Lacero!"

A bright, red slash of light flickered into motion, but it was thin, and barely fizzled as it hit the shield. Harry sighed, disappointed.

"Oh, very good, Harry," Cecilia taunted. "That was rather poor technique, though. You need to be more confident, and your motion could be better. Shorten the first swoop - more an L than a V."

Harry tried again, this time following the directions. The spell came out stronger, and sparks flew as it dug into the shield. It held, however, and Harry's spell dissipated.

"I think you can break this shield, if you keep at it." Cecilia was smiling, a calm, victorious thing. "You are too reluctant, and your casting is suffering for it. You have to want to hurt me, Harriet."

"I don't want to hurt you, though."

"I will not let the spell hit me, even if it breaks the shield. You need to put some effort into it. It isn't as simple as just waving a wand and saying a few words. You have to put your will behind that intent. Put everything you have into it."

Harry lowered her wand. "It's not - isn't that what everyone's been warning me about?"

Cecilia laughed - but it wasn't warm, it was wintry wind howling over a lonely mountaintop. "No. It's not. I have told you not to let the magic rule you. If you are too frightened to attempt these spells, then you have lost already."

Harry shrugged. She wasn't sure what to say.

"I really don't want to hurt anyone."

"Then you are a fool! If you cannot even muster up the smallest ounce of determination, to defend yourself, you may as well offer yourself up to Voldemort right now! Witches and wizards who fall are those who let the magic consume them, until it rules everything they do - they cannot stop themselves. They become murderers, hunted by the law, and put down like the beasts they've become."

Harry glared. She was annoyed with Cecilia - what did it matter? It was just a stupid spell. Fine. If she wanted anger, she'd get anger.

Raising her wand again, hands trembling, she concentrated on what she wanted to do, this time thinking of wiping that smug, patronizing smirk off of Cecilia's face.

She slashed her wand.

"Lacero!"

This time, the red arc glowed, and bit into the shield with a wet noise, like barbecuing meat. The shield held, for a long second, and Harry thought that she might not have done it. Then it popped, and the spell was through -

It splashed against the far edge of the wards, and Cecilia clapped from where she was suddenly standing, a few feet to the side. Harry gaped at her, slightly. Cecilia casually ejected Harry from her mind again.

"Well done!"

"What if you hadn't dodged it?"

Cecilia snickered. "I can dodge one Lacerating Curse, thank you. But more importantly, you succeeded. There was more than one solution, but this one certainly counts."

Harry goggled. "It took me forever to break the shield, though. And I wouldn't ever use that spell in a real duel."

"You'll use whatever will keep you alive. This isn't a game, Harriet. Jinxes and hexes will only get you so far. While they are very useful for incapacitating opponents - one good hit will end the duel - there is a weakness to these types of spells," Cecilia lectured.

"They bounce off shields?" Harry asked, dryly.

"Some shields, yes. For the most part, these spells are easy to deflect, or block. The shield I just demonstrated - creatively named the Shield Charm - is one such example. Many adult wizards find themselves stymied by them, unless they are willing to resort to the Unforgivables."

"Unforgivables?"

"Yes," Cecilia's mouth twisted in distaste. "Three spells that kill, torture and dominate. Unblockable, and very illegal. Dark magic by anyone's definition, as well. We've mentioned the Imperius Curse a little bit before - that's one of them."

"Oh," Harry said. She wasn't completely sure how to put all the things she was feeling into words.

"The point of today's little demonstration, however, is that shields are generally effective against spells that incapacitate easily, and spells that are effective against shields are generally ones that will not completely incapacitate someone. The Stunning Spell, which most adult wizards use to incapacitate an opponent, has almost no effect on anything that doesn't have a nervous system. Conversely, the Reductor Curse, which is designed for destroying physical objects, has a reduced effect on magical defenses, and almost no effect on living organisms."

"So, it's like a trade-off?" Harry asked. "Like Rock Paper Scissors."

Cecilia's eye twitched, and Harry could feel the irritation because of her Legilimency. Cecilia was practically shouting it in her thoughts.

"I suppose such a comparison is not inaccurate."

"So, what? I need to learn spells to break shields, not just hexes? I can do that."

"It is more complicated than that," Cecilia explained. "The reason that the Shield Charm is so effective is that it effectively counters a very wide range of simple spells. Against a reasonably skilled opponent, however, it is significantly less useful. For example, while it won't defeat an opponent by itself, a banishing charm would have been just as effective for this demonstration - it would have forced me to drop my shield, with enough force.

"That's what we're going to start covering - all spells are not created equal, in serious dueling. We are going to round out your spell repertoire - useful, quick, efficient spells to poke at your enemy's defenses, spell combinations to keep your opponent behind a shield, and yes, powerful spells to break those shields. More than simply learning spells, we will unpack and examine the ebb and flow of combat - when to attack, when to block, when to dodge, and when to stop and draw a runic spell that can level a small building."

"Okay," Harry said. "So, I get it, I think. Where do we start?"

The next morning, Malfoy thought it was wise to re-enact Harry fainting from the dementor. He thought he was so funny - it was sort of pathetic, exactly how funny he thought he was. Harry wanted to disabuse him of this notion, but they were in the middle of the Great Hall. Instead, she let Ron lead her to the table, with Fred and George. One of these days, she needed to figure something out that would stop Malfoy for good - she might have admired his tenacity, if he wasn't harassing her.

At the table, they learned that while Ron had Divination, Hermione had about three subjects this morning - Harry and Ron exchanged significant looks at Hermione's insistence that nothing was off - and Harry, somehow, had the morning off.

So she said goodbye to Ron and Hermione as they set off for one of the towers, to learn the art of discerning the future.

Harry wandered back up to the Room of Requirement, to chat with Cecilia for a little while, returning back to the rest of the Gryffindors for Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.

She was only too pleased to listen to the details of the Animagus transformation - Sirius could turn into a dog, and that seemed incredibly useful. And, her father had been one too - it was another link, to a parent that she barely knew anything about.

"Is Miss Potter the only one here interested in the Animagus transformation?" Professor McGonagall asked. "I don't think I've ever seen a class so unimpressed."

"We just had Divination, Professor," Hermione explained.

"Ah. That will explain it. Which one of you is to die, then?"

Harry almost burst into laughter, before she looked around, and realized that no one was laughing - they all looked pale, and grave.

"Me," Hermione said. "But I think it sounded like a load of tosh."

Harry saw Parvati and Lavender exchange a significant look, and Ron let out a half-cough that was obviously covering for a laugh. Apparently, Lavender and Parvarti thought Trelawney knew what she was talking about. Huh. Ron thought she was shite.

"Sybill Trelawney makes a spectacle of predicting a student's death every year. Rest assured, Miss Granger, I doubt that any harm will come to you."

Hermione nodded, reassured. McGonagall, with her usual aplomb, returned to discussing Transfiguration. Harry was honestly rather more trusting of McGonagall's opinion, quite frankly.

She was very much looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures, after lunch, but Malfoy managed to completely ruin a perfectly good lesson by getting himself mauled by a hippogriff. If he wanted to injure himself, she was fine with it, but doing it to get Hagrid in trouble was just uncalled for.

It sounded very much like he hadn't learned his lesson from last year - a whole summer without her must have allowed him to get ideas again. She'd have to correct that, sometime soon.

Harry held the letter, in her hands. Sirius had finally written back - warning her not to use Hedwig, since a snowy owl was very noticeable. Funny, how he wasn't the one who had to explain this to Hedwig. That still wasn't the most interesting thing about his letter - he mentioned that the childhood trio of Potter, Black, and Pettigrew had a fourth, Remus Lupin.

Harry had detention with him that evening. A part of her wasn't sure what to think - half of her wanted to charge into his office and demand where he had been her whole life, and an equally angry part of her wanted nothing to do with him. She wanted to know, first, however, whether it was something he would admit to, or if it was something she would have to drag out of him.

This also meant that Lupin knew what Sirius' animagus form was, and would recognize it. Sirius had decided, after hearing that Harry had fainted on the train, that it was best to leave England for a while - he planned to let Muggles see him in some country far from Hogwarts, to draw off the Dementors.

Harry found herself grateful - the dementor had not been kind, and Malfoy seemed bound and determined to make fun of her for it. She'd have to pay him back soon, once she was done with paying her debt to the school for the skirmish on the train station.

When Harry approached Professor Lupin's office, she found him waiting for her, with a small, gentle smile on his face. Harry eyed him, warily, and tried to look behind his eyes, but Lupin didn't have a pool, in his mind. Instead, there was only a brief, vivid sensation of fury before she was back in her own head.

He didn't say anything, though. Instead, he brought her into his office. Unlike Lockhart, Lupin's office was sparse, and her attention was immediately drawn to a large tank, the largest piece of furniture in the room.

"I was going to focus on dark creatures, with your year. I was thinking that you might help me set up this tank for a Grindylow, for our class."

"Sure," Harry said. It wasn't like she had much of a choice.

He set her to scrubbing, at first, while he fiddled with some papers at his desk. She was no stranger to such things - never a tank like this, but scrubbing was scrubbing.

Lupin was content to watch her, for a while, before he commented, "So, dare I ask why you felt the need to attack Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry eyed him, but she wasn't keen to repeat the experience of seeing whatever was in his mind.

There really was no good way to phrase it. "He's made it his mission this year, to mock me for fainting from the Dementors."

"I see," Lupin whispered, almost to himself. "There is nothing to be ashamed about fainting from Dementors, Harry. It merely means that you have horrors in your past that others do not."

Harry rolled her eyes at the tank she was still in the midst of cleaning. "I don't care about that," she protested. "It's crap, yeah, but life's crap."

"Then, why did you feel the need to curse Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry glared at him. Didn't he understand? "He's an arrogant, bullying toerag. But I'm much better at magic than he is, so I make him stop. I thought he understood that - how things worked. But apparently, he's spent an entire summer bigging himself up again inside his own head. I hexed him, to take him down a notch."

She watched the emotions play across his face. Learning Legilimency had done very little for her ability to read faces, so she couldn't be totally sure what he was thinking.

"I see," he finally said. "You should not use violence to solve your problems."

Harry laughed, a low and dry thing. "It's all well and good to say that, Professor, but life isn't a nice PSA about bullying. Some bullies don't stop until you make them."

"A PSA?"

"It's a muggle thing. Like, sort of a government ad about a health risk - like a disease or drugs or something."

"Oh." Lupin didn't say anything after that, seemingly lost for words. Harry just shrugged, and went back to scrubbing.

After a few minutes, she decided to broach what had been bugging her about what he'd said. "What's a dark creature?"

"Oh." Lupin laughed, a little bit. Harry looked down, in shame, but Lupin quickly told her, "Don't worry, that was a very good question."

"I just - I know what dark magic is, at least by a few definitions. But I've never heard anything about dark creatures. Of course, I've only had one lesson of Care of Magical Creatures, and I can't say we did much learning in there, honestly."

He nodded, and stroked his chin. "I heard about that. A student was injured?"

"Yeah. Malfoy. In fact, this is just more evidence to support my point with him. He didn't listen to instructions, and got mauled for it. So now, instead of admitting that he was the one in the wrong, he's trying to get Hagrid sacked, and the Hippogriff executed. I told you, he needs lessons repeated, and continually reinforced for them to penetrate his thick skull."

"Miss Potter," he scolded.

"What? It's true! He's an idiot!"

"Regardless of whether he is or not, it's not acceptable to call your fellow students names."

Harry rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Dark creatures, remember?"

He frowned. "I'm afraid I must insist, Harry. Stop. Unless you want another detention?"

She shook her head.

He nodded. "As to your question, the classification of 'dark creature' does not technically exist. You're correct, there, but it's more of an informal category that discusses creatures typically covered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. These are labelled as such because they are the ones that are likely to attack and pose a threat to wizardkind. I have planned for us to focus on such things in this year of instruction."

Harry thought through that. "So it's a bit like dark magic? Like, most people use dark magic to talk about magic that's likely to hurt people, so dark creatures are the same."

"Yes. there is no special quality to these creatures that sets them apart from any other. It's just a bit of informal description. You'll likely find it in certain textbooks, but those are generally unreliable."

"Unreliable?"

He made a displeased face. "Yes. If a book uses that kind of verbal shorthand, it is almost guaranteed that it does not treat its subjects with a useful amount of nuance."

"Okay." She went back to scrubbing.

Malfoy took an entire two days off, for Buckbeak. Harry had absolutely no sympathy for him, when he showed up to Snape's class, late, with an arm in a sling.

Snape was somehow absolutely ironclad, in his mind. Like an abyss, underneath the sea. Harry couldn't help but notice. She could tell that he was very talented in Occlumency. She stayed well enough away.

She had even less sympathy for him when he plopped himself down, next to her and Ron, and drawled, "Sir, I'll need help cutting my daisy roots, you know, because of my arm…"

"Weasley, cut Malfoy's roots for him."

Ron looked mutinous. "There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed.

At Snape's furious expression, he grudgingly pulled the roots over, and proceeded to mangle them completely. Malfoy complained, and Snape made him switch them.

He wasn't done, however. Harry had the pleasure of skinning Malfoy's shrivelfig. He leaned over.

"I hope that fat oaf is happy, now that's he's going to lose his job," he muttered.

"He's not the only one going to lose something, if you keep it up," Ron warned.

"My father was very upset to hear of my injury, you know. He wrote to the other governors right away."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Some of us are trying to brew potions, if you hadn't noticed."

"Maybe you should be worrying more about being a good little schoolgirl," Malfoy taunted.

Harry ignored him. She knew exactly what he was saying, of course. It was obvious, in his mind. She knew. He had learned a little bit of Occlumency, but not enough to notice her. Surprisingly, his mind offered a bit of resistance - a tiny bit, certainly not enough to stop her, like the waters were choppy, and rough.

"I would have done something about him by now, if it were me."

"What on earth are you on about, Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"You mean you don't know?"

"No, we have no idea what you're talking about," Harry put in. "Since you've not actually mentioned anyone by name yet."

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck. But I wouldn't just leave him to the dementors, you know. I'd want revenge," he hissed.

He actually thought he'd have the balls to go looking for the man who had killed his parents. How delusional.

"What makes you think I haven't already gotten my revenge, this summer?" Harry asked. "How do you know he's not just dead in a ditch somewhere? It's not like I'd want anyone to know it, if I had killed him already."

Malfoy paled, and Harry forced the memory of her hexing him last winter, when he'd cornered her with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Take care, Malfoy. It won't be a Babbling Hex, next time."

Snape called an end to the lesson, then, threatening Neville's toad with his poor potion-making skills. Harry thought that Neville wasn't great at potions, but openly mocking him seemed a poor way to help him improve. Of course, Snape wasn't a great teacher. That was nothing new.

When Neville's potion failed to kill Trevor, Snape took points from Gryffindor.

But instead of dismissing them all, he said, "Miss Potter, stay behind."

Harry did so, feeling a nervous kind of trepidation. She kept a careful sort of eye on the corner of Snape's desk, as everyone filed out of the classroom. The scratching of shoes on stone and the clink of cauldrons and the plunk of books, were followed by the clack of the door, shutting.

For a low moment, there was only silence.

"Miss Potter," Snape said, and, for once, there wasn't even a hint of anger in his voice, "look at me."

She did, and -

It was worse, than Cecilia. Snape's mind was like grasping, furious fingers, ice digging into her head, dragging her hair through the last few months. Oddly, he seemed to gloss over the presence of Cecilia.

Finally, he was done. Harry had a pounding headache, and she sought the cool darkness of the table, in relief. Her hands trembled, violently.

"You have a talent that is frequently called natural Legilimency," Snape repeated, after a pause. "I… also have this talent."

"Oh," Harry said.

"Quite," he muttered, sighing. He sounded unbearably put-upon. Harry resisted the temptation to poke at his mind. In fact, it might be advisable to avoid poking at any of the professors' minds, considering that there were two that she couldn't read at all.

"It is rare," he admitted. "Rare enough that I have only met one other person with it, before you. You appear to be very talented in Legilimency, far more than Occlumency. The former is the art of penetrating others' minds. The latter is the art of protecting one's own. My own talents lie in Occlumency."

"You feel… like a black hole, sir. Like the part of the ocean where no light penetrates." She risked a glance up at him, but she kept her mental fingers far away from his mind.

"It is not uncommon, in people like us, for our minds to… wander. You will keep what you learn to yourself. It is inevitable, that you will learn a great many things about your classmates. If I hear anything about that, you will be in more detention than even you, Miss Potter, will be able to muddle through. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor," she said. "I understand. I was - well, I wasn't planning on abusing it."

"Keep it that way. It is - understandable, that these things will happen. And it is… not something that you can help."

Harry didn't say the thing at the tip of her tongue - that he certainly hadn't hesitated to hold her parentage against her, and, in fact, she could help that a whole lot less than she could help this. But that wasn't - Snape was being sort of nice, for once - and that was only going to lose her points.

"Is there a… method, to control it?"

"Time," Snape said, unhelpfully. "Now, you have a class to get to, I am sure. Detention, Friday, with me, and ten points from Gryffindor, for using your abilities on Mr. Malfoy. Do not allow me to see you doing that again."

"Thank you, Professor," Harriet said, and escaped, before he changed his mind.

After her detention, Harry admittedly wasn't expecting very much from Lupin's first class, admittedly. It wasn't like creatures were her primary interest, when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

So, when he showed them the Boggart, in the teacher's lounge wardrobe, Harry was pleasantly surprised. Using Neville to demonstrate was clever, too, because it put him in a situation where he could succeed.

The rest of the class, too, got a stab at the Boggart, but when it came for Harry's turn, Lupin stepped forward. Ron's legless spider vanished.

A man stood there, fat and short, but she couldn't get a good look at him, since he was covered in dark blood. Harry had no idea who he was. He went to shout at Lupin, but Lupin was faster.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and the man was blasted back, into the wardrobe, shutting it tightly. Harry had to wonder at that - who on earth would Lupin be so frightened of?

an: You might have noticed Snape not being a total, petty dickhead here. Not saying he's perfect, but I find him a bit annoying, sometimes, the way the text seems to treat him as just wholly hypocritical, and wholly unable to move on from James Potter. I'm trying to write him as less so, as many fanfictions do. I do feel like there is some disconnect between the way he's talked and written about and the way he acts - like Dumbledore. Feel free to disagree, but I just didn't want to write another horrible, mean, petty man because Rowling keeps stealing things from Roald Dahl's playbook.