I apologize for the length of this chapter. It's short, but I thought it was a good place to stop, I will update again very soon with a more lengthy chapter. I promise!

Kitty: Thanks, I'm glad you like it and I'll try to update as often as possible.

Snapped – Chapter 4

Hermione and I talked for quite some time. I apologized of course. She told me how selfish she thought I was. She's probably right but I don't want her to be any more of a target, being close to me. Just thinking of Sirius, and all the other people close to me that have been hurt weakens my shields. I don't think I ever got past that stage in grief called "anger". I don't want to get past it, I need it to keep going. That's not to say I can keep it all bottled up for any real length of time. I'm damn good at Occlumency now, but wizards skilled at Occlumency have to release their pent up emotion sometimes. I need an outlet... now. My vision is getting hazy, and I need to break something. I stumble into an unused classroom, I don't care which one, no one is here and that's all that matters.

The shields go down once again and I let it out. I suppose it's wandless magic that gives me the strength to smash the teacher's heavy wooden desk into bits with my fists. I kick out at another desk; it careens into a nearby stack of chairs. I pick the entire stack up and throw it across the room. I notice that my fists aren't even connecting when I hit things, it's the invisible magic that surrounds them. I feel it around me; it's a different kind of armor, purely physical unlike an Occlumency shield. It's not just protection, it's power, and the hair on my arms stands on end. I imagine Malfoy making some bigot comment to Hermione, taunting Ron, or taking points from an innocent 1st year in the hall. I feed my anger like I'm stoking some roaring fire. The desks and chairs are all vibrating now.

"Mr. Potter! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" at the sound of McGonogall's voice I slam my mental shield up, and all the chairs and desks burst apart at their joints. I stare blankly at the chaos of the room, and then stumble to explain.

"I... I..." I give up, "I don't know professor."

"Not good enough, what were you doing in here? Did you do this?" she's gesturing at her desk which is cleanly snapped in half. Her small class of 7th year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins are outside the door, trying to get a peek at what's going on.

"I'm sorry professor... I was practicing... I made a mistake?" I mentally slap myself at how weak that sounds.

She glares at me for a long moment, "We'll finish this later, I have a class to teach,"

I make my way past her and out the door, the students stare at me, I'm used to it so I ignore it along with the whispering.

"Broke every piece of furniture in the room at once he did!"