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Chapter 15 – Advancing in Occlumency
"Harry, today we will be practicing without the use of the Pensieve," Dumbledore announced.
"What?" Harry asked, looking around the room to make sure the Pensieve wasn't there.
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said, "You've been very successful lately, and it's time you gave it a try."
Harry inwardly groaned. It was only a month and a half until Christmas, and Dumbledore was choosing now to plague his mind.
"Can't we wait until after Christmas?" he pleaded.
"No, Harry," Dumbledore replied firmly.
Harry slumped in his seat. The last thing he had wanted when things were going so well was to be tortured by the memory of Sirius.
"Come, Harry, let's get started," Dumbledore told him cheerfully.
Harry reluctantly followed him to the empty section of floor...hard floor...that they always practiced on.
"On three," Dumbledore announced, "One..."
There's no way I'm going to be able to do this.
"Two..."
I don't want to do this.
"Three. Legilimens!"
Memories flashed before Harry, but he saw Dumbledore's figure before him and sought to get to it. Quick, he thought, before I have to see it... But just when he thought he could manage to evade it, he saw it. Sirius was grinning at his cousin, taunting her. "Is that the best you can do?" No, Harry thought ruefully as Dumbledore faded away, It wasn't. Sirius began to fall, and a thousand emotions overcame Harry.
"SIRIUS!" he bellowed, running forward toward his godfather as if he were really there, "SIRIUS!"
His legs suddenly failed him as guilt and sadness coursed through him, and he fell to his knees and watched as Sirius fell through the veil. The smile had not completely left his face...
Harry was plunged into darkness.
"Harry," Dumbledore was saying, "Harry, wake up."
Harry rolled over and pressed himself against the floor hoping to somehow fall through it...to get away. He didn't want to see it, he didn't want to realize that it had been lurking in the back of his thoughts for a long time now. He didn't want to know that he had been stubbornly avoiding the fact that Sirius had ever existed. He didn't want to go back to having a constant pain in his chest, a hole in his heart. If he could just forget about it, just not have to think about it...
"Harry," Dumbledore said, "You can't escape it. It doesn't work that way."
Harry didn't move. If he just lay there long enough, he could forget about it. Dumbledore just needed to stop talking, to stop reminding him of it. Think of something else, he told himself, anything else. But he saw Sirius again and again, heard his words echoing in his head.
Harry groaned and clutched at his head as he rolled back over to face Dumbledore.
"I don't want this," he told him, "I want to forget."
"No, Harry," Dumbledore said gently, "You can't think that way."
Harry felt the familiar feeling of a lump in the back of his throat. Not tears again, he thought, not again... But they flowed over, and Harry rolled back over once more to face the floor. He didn't want to get up. Getting up would mean he would have to do this again, and again.
"Get up, Harry," Dumbledore said, "Come sit down."
Sirius would want me to, he thought, Sirius would do it if he were me. Slowly, he got to his feet, letting the tears pour down his face without actually crying. But he didn't go and sit down – he was sure Sirius wouldn't have. He sucked up his grief and remorse.
"Again," he said, forcing the word out. To him, it didn't sound like his voice. He had to conquer this memory – for Sirius.
Sirius, he thought, This is for you.
Dumbledore didn't argue or even question Harry.
"One."
I'll make you proud, Sirius.
"Two."
I won't let you down. Watch me, see what I can do!
"Three. Legilimens."
This time Harry anticipated the memory, rather than running from it. He boredly let his other memories flash by without paying them any notice. Suddenly, there he was. Harry smiled as he watched his godfather battle. "Is that the best you can do?" he taunted Bellatrix. Goodbye, Sirius, Harry thought, Sorry I can't stay and be with you. He saw Dumbledore's figure and concentrated on it. Sirius began to fall backwards, almost in slow motion. Dumbledore became clearer and clearer. Sirius' head touched the veil, and suddenly the whole memory vanished. Something came out of the tip of Harry's wand and aimed itself at Dumbledore. Something that Harry had not purposely wanted to do. Suddenly he was consumed by Dumbledore's memories.
He watched as a much younger Dumbledore got teased by a group of very pretty girls for being a bookworm. "Loser," one of them giggled, and the rest echoed her. Harry felt a bit angry at them for thinking of Dumbledore that way. The scene began to change. Harry recognized the outside of the Hogwarts building, and began to see a crowd of students, but suddenly he was pushed backwards. He landed on a rather hard wooden box.
"Ouch."
"Sorry, Harry," Dumbledore said, "I wasn't expecting you to take over like that."
"Well, I didn't mean to," Harry apologized, "It just kind of happened."
Dumbledore looked slightly ruffled.
"That was excellent Harry, more than I had ever hoped for. Are you alright?"
Harry knew Dumbledore was asking about his mental state rather than his physical one.
"I think I just made Sirius proud," Harry answered. Truthfully, he didn't know whether he was alright or not, but he felt a bit of satisfaction knowing that Sirius would have been elated for him at that very moment.
"Indeed you did," Dumbledore agreed solemnly.
Harry didn't answer. He felt as if he had just recovered from a dementor attack, and his butt still hurt from landing on that box so hard. He then remembered what he had seen of Dumbledore's memories. He felt a bit sorry for Dumbledore, but was too busy being mad at him for taking away the Pensieve to feel too much pity. He stretched in his chair. It had felt kind of good to be able to step away from the memory.
"Dumbledore," Harry said quietly.
"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore answered attentively.
"How do I get past this?" he asked, referring to the constant pain he felt when he thought of Sirius.
"My dear boy," Dumbledore said kindly, "You have already made great progress."
Harry glanced up in surprise. How had he made any kind of progress? He had just broken down in tears at the memory of Sirius' death...that was called progress? Dumbledore seemed to read his mind.
"Harry, you had a painful past even before Sirius had died. Last year you were withdrawing into yourself, not facing what you knew was true. But now look at you." Harry heard distinct pride in Dumbledore's voice. "You've let Lupin into your life. You haven't shut out your friends. Your teachers are all reporting that your work and concentration is excellent. You are handling your duties as Quidditch captain very responsibly. You are beginning to master Occlumency – and here you are, talking to me about the very thing you think you've made no progress in. Harry, you do not know what great progress it is for one to open oneself up."
Harry supposed Dumbledore was halfway right.
"But – I pushed the memory away," he protested, "I haven't been facing it."
"Ah, but Harry, you just did – and you overcame it," Dumbledore reminded him.
"But doesn't overcoming it mean it won't make me break out in tears every time I think of it?" Harry asked.
"First of all, I would like to let you know that tears are nothing to be ashamed of," Dumbledore answered, "And secondly, I saw no tears this last time around."
Harry realized that Dumbledore was right.
"Yeah," he said quietly, "You're right. So what do I do now?"
"Keep practicing Occlumency, for one," Dumbledore answered, "Other than that, keep doing exactly what you are right now."
Harry nodded. It sounded doable.
"So are we going to go again?" he asked.
"Do you feel ready to go again?" was the kind reply.
Harry nearly replied with a defiant, "Yes!" but he knew, in the pit of his stomach, that he wasn't.
"No," he replied, "I suppose I should just rest a while."
"Very good," Dumbledore said approvingly, "We'll give it half an hour."
Harry fell into silence. He felt the nagging pain in his chest, he wanted Sirius to be there. Sirius, he moaned inwardly, Why did you have to go? Why... He closed his eyes and memories of his godfather overcame him. He thought first of the picture of the handsome and haughty young boy he had seen in Snape's memory the last year, and then of the man in his parent's wedding picture, whose eyes had been so alive, so full of life and happiness. Then he thought of the ragged Sirius, with a laugh like a raspy bark, and those haunted eyes. The Sirius sailing away on Buckbeak with a smile on his face compared to the one that had stormed through the Black house, frustrated at not being able to do anything for the order. And then, Sirius in battle – the only place he was truly alive. In his godfather's last moments, the haunted look he had acquired from Azkaban had faded, and true happiness and anticipation had taken it's place. He never would have been happy, Harry realized, not unless he could get out of that blasted house and do what he wanted to do. And that wouldn't have happened unless he was proven innocent. Harry closed his eyes and pressed his hands over them. There were so many what if's...and many more if only's. They kept his mind tossing and turning recklessly, but he knew that he shouldn't be dwelling on them. He glanced up at the clock. Twenty-five minutes was close enough to half an hour.
"I'm ready," he announced.
Dumbledore nodded and they stood up and walked to the center of the room.
It took Harry two tries to block Dumbledore, but then he successfully did it three times (which was three times more than Dumbledore had wanted to try). After the third time, he sank down to the floor, feeling as if all the energy was drained out of him permanently.
"You've done very well, Harry," Dumbledore praised, "Better than I ever would have expected. We will be done for the day, but you can stay here for as long as you like to regain your energy. I will be summoning Professor Snape into the room to discuss some possibilities for your Occlumency lessons in the future. You may give us any suggestions you wish."
Harry's mind reeled. Was he going to have to have Snape give him Occlumency lessons again? He looked up at Dumbledore earnestly.
"No, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled, "Professor Snape will not be giving you Occlumency lessons again. But he is a talented Occlumens...greater than myself, I might add, and he will have some good suggestions for you."
Harry personally thought that Snape wouldn't want to give him and his Occlumency lesson the time of day, but didn't say anything as Dumbledore threw some Floo Powder into the fire, knelt down, and stuck his head in. Harry couldn't hear the conversation, but it was relatively short. Dumbledore emerged looking excited.
"Professor Snape and Miss Riddle will be joining us shortly," he announced.
"Um, since when does Snape have a fireplace in his room?" Harry asked.
"It is in his storage room," Dumbledore replied, "I require all the teachers to have a fireplace so that I may get ahold of them whenever I wish. Most of them are hidden, however."
Harry was too tired to question the whereabouts of them. He leaned back in the fluffy armchair and prayed for energy.
"Professor Snape will also be bringing you a potion that should give you energy and help you to focus," Dumbledore told him, "And I suggest you thank him for bringing it in, since the particular potion takes a good while to brew, and he did it without being ordered to."
Silver probably told him to, Harry thought. He just couldn't see Snape going to any lengths for him of his own accord.
Soon enough, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Silver's laugh could be heard, ringing clearly and sweetly through the corridor. Harry felt a bit more awake when he heard it. Soon Snape and Silver arrived. Silver gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Snape grudgingly held out a vial of glowing purple potion – the same one he had given him after Harry had thrown up in his classroom. Harry drank it eagerly. The cold, fruity taste awakened his senses. He felt electricity flowing through his body, and both his vision and hearing sharpened.
"Thanks," Harry said, feeling much more alive than he had previously.
Snape observed him emotionlessly.
"Is he always that tired after lessons?" he asked Dumbledore.
"Oh, no," Dumbledore assured him, "We just practiced without the use of the Pensieve today, and I believe it was a bit trying on him."
Silver gave him a worried glance, but he smiled reassuringly at her.
"How'd he do?" Snape asked.
"He was overcome three times, but blocked it four," Dumbledore replied, "He even managed to turn the tables on me his second try."
Snape looked surprised. He looked at Harry appraisingly, as if wondering whether Dumbledore was lying or not.
"So, Severus, as it seems that after Christmas sometime Harry will be ready to move up to the next level of Occlumency – practicing the spell on others."
Harry looked surprised, and he was not the only one. Snape did as well.
"But, Headmaster, he will not be able to successfully enter into either of our minds," he replied.
"Yes, exactly," Dumbledore agreed, "I was wondering if you knew of any students and their parents who would be willing to volunteer for Harry to work on. Preferably, they will have had a little or no experience in Occlumency before, but are strong-willed enough to block him if he does not perform the curse strongly enough."
Snape looked deep in thought. "Molly would never agree to it," he said, "Perhaps Granger's parents would agree, since they do not know the extent of what it will be getting her into?"
"No, Severus, I do not want to take advantage of anyone," Dumbledore replied, "We need someone like..."
"Me!" Silver interrupted.
Both adults and Harry turned to look at her, speechless.
"What, you don't think I'm strong-willed enough?" she asked, eyes flashing dangerously.
"Well, Miss Riddle," Dumbledore replied, "I do not think that at all. But you have a particularly painful past. You do realize that Occlumency..."
"Yes, I know all about Occlumency from what Harry and Professor Snape have told me," she replied.
Snape and Dumbledore exchanged glances.
"Well, Miss Riddle, I will allow you, seeing as you're so determined and you're the only student whom I think fits the description, on one condition," Dumbledore said, "You will practice Occlumency with Severus so that you have the choice of blocking Harry if the memories become too painful, or too private."
Snape nodded his agreement. "And then..."
"Harry will attempt to break into our minds," Dumbledore finished.
Both adults looked at Harry, neither of them looking particularly anxious of the day Harry would try to see their worst memories. Snape looked as if he intended to kill Harry before that happened.
"So," Dumbledore said rather suddenly, making the other three jump, "Does anyone feel like ice cream?"
"Ooh," Silver replied, "Yes, please!" "Sure," Harry answered.
"Erm..." Snape began.
"Severus, I really insist you stay," Dumbledore interrupted before Snape had a chance to refuse.
"Yes, please stay," Silver echoed.
Snape looked resigned. "Alright," he said, looking none too happy about it.
Dumbledore reached over and picked up a small silver bell. He made sure it rang exactly four times, and then set it down. Almost immediately four house elves appeared carrying bowls of ice cream. Dumbledore's had a cherry on top.
"Oh, I see, you get a cherry," Silver teased once the house elves left.
"Yes, it is one of the many perks of being headmaster – actually, it is the main reason I took the job," Dumbledore replied.
Silver laughed, and Harry grinned. He wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to be telling the truth. Snape looked mildly amused.
Harry watched as Silver took a polite-sized spoonful of hers and watched in amusement as Harry and Dumbledore took the biggest scoops they could fit into their mouths. Snape didn't touch his.
"Aren't you going to eat yours?" Silver prompted.
"Guess so," was Snape's reply. He reluctantly spooned some into his mouth as Harry and Dumbledore continued to compete to see who could fit the biggest scoop into their mouths and still manage to swallow it. In the end, both of them had headaches.
"Goodness," Dumbledore said as he rummaged around in his desk drawers, "That really can be a painful game, can't it, Harry?"
"Yeah," Harry grunted, holding his head.
Dumbledore offered him some red potion in a small cup, and Harry gratefully accepted it. It made the headache go away immediately.
"I find that happens quite often when one eats ice cream, so I always have a supply handy," Dumbledore informed them, much to Silver's amusement.
After Silver had finished hers, Dumbledore glanced at the clock.
"Well, children, it's time for you to be getting to your dorms," he instructed.
"Alright," Harry agreed, "Bye."
"Bye Professor Dumbledore," Silver said cheerfully. She then threw her arms around Snape's neck and gave him a sweet, "Bye."
"Bye," Snape grumbled, trying to look as if he hadn't liked the hug in the least. He didn't succeed.
Harry and Silver ran down the stairs, racing each other. Silver jumped off the fourth to the last one and landed at the same time as him, although she insisted she had landed first. Harry argued playfully with her all the way back to the common room, where she left him with a hug and a "Night, Harry." This time he managed to reply with, "G'night. Sweet dreams!"
He walked to the dorms still savoring the sweet smile she had given him when she turned around at the top of the stairs.