Author's apology: I have finally pulled myself free from that lingering black abyss that has imprisoned me for the past several months. I think it was called Azkaban. First, it was never my intention to disappear off the face of the earth; through strange twists of fate and curses of destiny, and while my muse never left me for a moment, my computer felt the strain of my frustration and promptly exhibited symptoms and failed to respond.
I now humbly present to you the first chapter of "Something" written and sent from Osaka, Japan, my current residence for the next year, so you will forgive the less frequent updates; but as long as my computer cooperates and I have internet access, I will continue to progress on this story.
To those who reviewed in my absence, a great thank you.
And to those who have so diligently waited and faithfully returned, I reward thee with an extra long chapter containing every point of interest reasonably compiled into one selection. _____________________________________________
Chapter 27
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Morning came with unusual abruptness, that is not to say the sun rose than its normal gradual self, or that nature decided upon another course of action. However, there were some occupants woken rudely with a morning symphony complete with a growling and snapping dog and plenty of broken cookery, not to mention other inhuman sounds.
* Go away, you mangy mutt! First it's cats, now it's dogs. What next? The bloody werewolf? *
* Keep it down, Evan. I'm trying to sleep. *
* Trying to sleep, he says. That would be better accommodated if you called off this dog of yours. *
* I don't have a dog, * was the immediate reply. No, Harry did not have a dog: he had a godfather who could transform into a dog. He groaned as he dragged himself from the nice, comfortable, warm bed. * Where are you, Evan? *
* Parlor. *
Sensing urgency, Harry made headway towards the stairs. Now removed from slumber, he was much more animate. He certainly did not want his gift from Hagrid mauled by his godfather. He paused ever so briefly by Remus's room just as the Professor opened the door to see what the racket was all about.
"Harry, what is it?"
"Sirius is attacking Evan. Don't know why," he said rushing past.
Within the parlor, otherwise known as the formal sitting room where Phineas's portrait took residence, Harry discovered a sight oddly reminiscent of earlier in the summer at the Burrow. But instead of a large ginger cat pawing underneath the china cabinet, it was a large black dog. In the interests of keeping both supposed animals alive, he was about to call to his godfather when Remus intervened.
"Sirius! Just what do you think you are doing?"
The Newfoundland ceased his barrage in favor of glancing towards the intruders to his game. The next instant a man stood in place of the canine. "That thing is not a spider," Sirius stated. "I don't know what it is, but it is not natural!"
"We figured that much out, Sirius. It is of magical descendent, of course it is not what we deem natural," Lupin replied calmly.
"I know what magical smells like. And that spider is not a spider in any sense. It doesn't smell right."
"Such eloquence, Black." Their sour host entered, announcing his presence with his most disgusted aristocratic drawl. However, Harry thought he detected amusement which might have become more apparent in the next statement. "I see you found yourself a new chew-toy. However I would prefer if you took your games to less valuable rooms." Harry listened slightly confused, the only time he had ever heard the slightest hint of amusement was when Snape had found a way to get him in trouble, perhaps it applied to Sirius as well.
"That thing is not s spider," Sirius repeated.
"Is that so? Where is it now?"
"Evan's under the cabinet," Harry supplied without knowing why. * You are still there, aren't you? *
* Of course I am. Somebody should put a leash on that animagus. And if that man is going to play this humorously . . . * Evan left the threat hanging.
"Of course it is," Snape said absently as he moved to the fireplace. Ignoring the three sets of disinterested, curious eyes, Snape ignited the hearth, removed black powder from an ornate crystal container and tossed it into the flames. Harry's question was why was the Potion's Professor flooing anyone over such a trivial matter? Then again was it even trivial? Once the merry orange flames changed green, he said, "Hogwarts: Headmaster Dumbledore's office, Password, Iced Mice."
As if the Headmaster was waiting for the firecall, his head popped into existence in Snape's hearth. "Ah, Severus, what brings you here this fine winter morning?"
"It would seem Snuffles," Snape snarled the name, "has stumbled upon something better left anonymous."
"I see. I am sure you can deal with the situation appropriately, though it might be time to inform the others. I must leave this to you. And Happy Christmas to you." With that Dumbledore disappeared from sight, leaving Snape quietly cursing his fate.
"You might as well come out now," he said in the direction of the china cabinet. Harry wondered at the statement even as Evan promptly complied. He didn't have long to stay curious as the spider proved himself to be an animagus. Who just happened to be Irvan. Sirius and Remus remained stunned several moments longer as connections flew.
Then they released the accusations. "You let THAT be that close to Harry!" Sirius rampaged against Snape, while Remus directed his attack towards Irvan.
"THAT was how you were fulfilling your responsibility? Completely irresponsible!"
"It's not as though I had a choice in the matter," Irvan replied calmly, even if slightly unnerved by the werewolf. An action Harry did not fully understand, but would know before the holiday was over.
"If you must know," Snape explained to Sirius without normal constraints on temper. "The entire ordeal was sanctioned by Dumbledore." Soon enough both Marauders ganged up on Snape, once Remus had concluded that Irvan was ignorant of what he wanted to know.
* Idiots. * The voice in his head surprised Harry once again. * You didn't think this strange connection would go away upon transforming, did you? *
* Er. No. It's just, . . . well, I guess I just wasn't expecting it," he finished lamely.
"Irvan!" a new voice broke the hostile atmosphere. "What an unpleasant surprise to find you amongst the living."
"Phineas, such a displeasure meeting you post-mortem. I much preferred you feigning death."
"Merlin knows you belong as dust on the wind."
"I had it straight from Merlin's mouth that he did not care one way or the other about us."
"You know each other?" Snape broke from the still arguing Marauders.
"Quite," Phineas stated tritely.
At Snape's raised eyebrow, Irvan replied, "Ask Sylvester."
"It would appear my great-grandfather was more eccentric than the family gave credit for. Though why are you here, Phineas?"
"Dumbledore thought it necessary for me to carry messages for his precious Order."
"You have my sympathy, but what is it that the headmaster could not have told me a moment ago?"
"It is not from him. It's from that crazed Auror trying to demolish my house." Snape smirk slightly at the oil painting's ravings, but not enough to aggravate the messenger. "He says he will need the first potion tonight and the second two nights from now."
"Doesn't trust me to finish, does he," Snape muttered mincingly. "Tell him they have to go through Dumbledore first." Phineas left without pleasantries and Snape immediately stalked out of the room.
In the confused silence, they all heard Irvan state under his breath, "Wonderful. Abandon me in hostile territory," before he moved to the exit.
"You're not going anywhere," Sirius stopped him physically.
"Honestly, Sirius, don't you think it is too early for this. It's hardly past seven. What were you doing up this early anyway?"
"Exploring. Didn't expect the git to be up. Nor to find that thing," he pointed to the vampire.
"Such an astute observation." Irvan stepped out of Sirius's reach.
"No one asked you."
"Quite. But more to the point. The mere fact that you have no inkling as to how any of this works proves that you do not have the capacity to reconcile the differences brought upon the situation. And considering your inability to comprehend the differences compounded by this situation, it is no wonder you are unable to perceive the current complications correctly."
"Does that even mean anything in English?"
"To put into words your brain can process: You are an inept idiot."
Spell casting supposedly needed time to work. Harry failed to see either man move until the aftermath. His godfather was on the floor supporting his head. And the vampire still stood, but with a nasty gash along his jaw line. "If you will excuse me," Irvan managed politely and glided beyond the reach of the startled spectators.
"Is he all right?" Harry asked standing behind Remus as the Professor looked to his friend.
"Sirius? Oh, he's fine. Just a bump on the head. Nothing serious."
"I'm going to kill that good for nothing, blood sucking leech." Sirius was in excellent physical and mental condition, if he could manage to produce a threat.
"That's not very original," Remus chided.
"I'm not in the mood to be original."
"If that is the case, you might as well wait your turn. I'm claiming first dibs. Now, let's see about breakfast."
* * * * * * *
This was most definitely not the assignment Irvan wanted. He was now playing nursemaid to an adult with the temperament of a child in addition to a child with the temperament of an adult. And frankly he preferred the child. When his prey failed to have congregated in the parlor, he began his search elsewhere, beginning with the library. He had not expected to overhear a discussion about thestrals.
"And why are you doing this, Harry?" his intended target, Sirius Black, asked, oblivious as to why anyone would work over the holiday.
"Professor Grubbyplanks wants us to research a creature we would like to study but can't because of availability."
"But why a thestral? Those things are bad luck."
"Probably because it was one of the few things on the list I've never heard of. Ron didn't know what he was researching when I left and Hermione was going to use her essay on werewolves from third year as a basis for a new essay. Said something about getting the work graded."
"You should have offered to read it, Moony."
"Probably, but I admit I was not thinking about that at the time. You want a book about thestrals, right Harry? If we can find a copy of Tudunk's book, you'll be all set. Severus is bound to have a copy."
"North wall, third shelf from the top."
"Thank you, Rowena." There was silence for several moments. "Ah, here we are. Both editions. I'm surprised Hermione did not lend your her edition."
"She said there was some new information not in the Hogwarts Library. And it is likely she is going to let Ron use it. Wow, ten pages just for thestrals! No wonder you said I'd be set." More silence and Irvan was tempted to walk in to see what Black was doing. It was obvious that the other two were engaged in research, and he did not want his target to get away. "I don't understand this," Harry spoke aloud in hopes of clarification. "It says: a man who has witness the catastrophe that is the permanent loss of the spiritual element which supports the physical entity possesses the capacity of viewing a thestral should an opportunity present itself to the man in question."
"Oh, that's just a poetic way of saying if you see someone die you can see a thestral. Otherwise it's invisible." Well, it seemed the animagus was not completely ignorant.
"Then that means I should be able to," Harry responded thoughtfully.
"Huh? Why?"
"Cedric, remember." The boy sounded too depressed for one his age. "But then shouldn't you be able to see them?"
"A thestral? I guess so, but I don't think I've ever seen one. Where should we go to find them." Black actually sounded interested, almost eager.
"Hagrid told me they pull the horseless carriages," the werewolf supplied.
"Then why can't I see them? I've used those many times this year."
"Haven't the faintest."
Irvan, for the preservation of correct knowledge, decided to make his presence known. "If you read further, it will tell you that it takes time for the psyche to process the disturbance brought upon it caused by the destruction of the harmonious blend of energies presented by a complex, intelligent and rational being."
"Say that again in English."
Without sparing the offender a glance, he rephrased for Harry's benefit; the poor boy looked lost. "In other words, it takes time for a person to comprehend that a death has occurred. There are many factors which complicate matters, all depending on the individual, the situation, and the method of death."
"So why can't Harry see one?"
"It is possible he has seen one without knowing, but since they do pull the carriages, I find that unlikely. Another reason is his unconscious refuses to accept what it has witness, or that it did not recognize it, or even more unlikely, that he sis not view the actual death. Among other smaller factors that would only cause trouble if the circumstances were correct. It is my opinion that the action happened too fast for Harry's mind to understand instantly and it is still working out the details necessary for acceptance."
"So he hasn't accepted."
"No, his unconscious is still working on the finer details of understanding. Harry has accepted, but his unconscious is a few steps behind. Thins is not as simple as yes or nor."
"Then why hasn't Sirius seen one? He witness death twelve years ago."
"As I understand Sirius's position, he was not of the mindset to recognize death for what it was. First of all, did you recognize the dead from the injured when the incident occurred?"
"No."
"And you were not given the time to see who died?"
"No."
"I am certain you were never told the number during your incarceration."
"No, I wasn't."
"And Azkaban is not a location conductive to understanding. And since you spent a great deal of time as a dog, your human psyche did not develop the required understanding. That is because a dog's mind is severely less complex than a man's. In addition, the resulting insanity from Azkaban hindered his process of understanding. While not permanent, its affects last awhile."
"So Sirius can't see them because he wasn't given the required time to understand what he saw."
"In an elementary explanation, yes."
Sirius, now leaning over Harry's shoulder so he could see the text, asked, "So what do they look like anyway?"
The boy turned a few pages to reveal an artist's rendering. "The sketch looks like a winged horse."
"Like a pegasus?"
"Hardly," Irvan answered, lip curled in distaste. To him it was impossible to confuse a pegasus with a thestral. "The only features a thestral shares with Pegasus is a horse like shape and wings. It is a reptile in every other form and function, including being carnivorous." As he finished he noticed the werewolf watching him curiously. It was that man's attention Irvan desperately wanted to avoid. Not just because the man was a werewolf, but also because the man was intelligent enough to make connections Irvan was not ready to reveal.
"What else do you know about thestrals?" Lupin asked.
"The boy is going to learn nothing if he keeps asking me. And is is unlikely quoting me will be considered a reliable source."
"He's right. Professor Grubbyplanks wouldn't accept Irvan the Vampire as a real source."
"No, I don't suppose she would," the werewolf said still looking at Irvan. "But she would accept Herman Tudunk."
"I shall leave you to your research," Irvan comment as he moved to the exit. He would have like to have chatted with Rowena, but not while the mass of Gryffindors graced the room.
"Enjoy yourselves, but I find research tedious."
"You always have. I have yet to see you open a book that did not contain pictures," Lupin gave a halfhearted attempt at banter, though it was obvious that he was more interested in the book. So that let the animagus follow Irvan out the door, without the vampire having to subject the man to subconscious influence. Pressing the mental barrier between himself and Severus, Irvan waited acknowledgment, * They're all yours, * he directed towards the Potions Master. * They are in Rowena's Library, researching. you had best approach them now for I do not know how long I can keep him otherwise engaged. *
* Getting him drunk on cheap liquor ought to take him out of commission. *
* Wonderful. A drunk mutt. *
* * * * * * *
"Do you think it was a good idea to let Sirius follow Irvan?"
"Probably not, but at least we know Irvan won't harm Sirius too badly. But if we don't see either of them by nightfall we should go looking." Remus was not worried for his friend, but he was concerned at the outcome of his and the vampire's discussion. Whatever was discussed could not help them make a peaceful relationship. He and Harry returned to their books. Something the vampire had said had reminded him far too greatly of a passage in Tudunk's book. However, he was interrupted by yet another intruder, on turning he found Snape in the doorway.
"Occlumency lessons in half an hour," he stated bluntly and was on the verge to go as Remus called out to him.
"You expect us to stop what we are doing just to accommodate you?"
"Unlike you I do not have unlimited leisure time. Half an hour warning is plenty of time for you to finish whatever project you have elected to preform. Now unless you would prefer to begin the lessons now, I will meet you in half an hour."
"Now is as good a time as any. What do you think, Harry?"
"Can't find reason to delay." Remus sensed Harry's reluctance, after all who would want to be stuck with Snape voluntarily for an hour. At least he and Harry discussed why these lessons were important, and Harry had understood the reasons, but that was no reason to be pleased about it.
Snape sneered at the answer. "Very well." Harry and Remus followed Snape to the dueling Hall. Remus had not ceased wondering in amazement at the story Sirius related about this Hall. Cillian Cavan was the strongest area within Ciara Alyosius. The wards were so designed to keep destructive spells within the walls, preventing any on the other side of the doors to witness or fall victim to a carelessly thrown spell from the mists of an enraged duel. Thus Cillian Cavan was the safest place to reside should invading forces attempt to breach the castle.
Sirius had also told the legend, passed down through his family through the ages, regarding the reason Ciara Alyosius was made unplottable. According to legend, a band of jealous wizards tried to destroy the building, but the wards were maintained from within Cillian Cavan. No one made it past the first gate, much less the front door. Because, Sirius had told them, the Snape family had not wanted to deal with another assault they found a way to hide their location from everyone To be sure not a soul could undo their wards, they never relinquished the information about their particular charm.
"Shall I assume Lupin has informed you as to what Occlumency is," Severus asked upon entry. Harry nodded uncertainly. Remus had told him everything he knew, but Remus was no longer sure that was everything Harry needed to know. "Then we shall begin."
"Perhaps it would be best to explain it to him, since you are accomplished in the field." It was at least an attempt to get Severus to explain the finer points.
"Would you prefer the task? Then kindly desist. Now, Potter, clear you mind of all thoughts and prepare yourself. One. . . two. . . three. . . Legilimens."
Remus watched in awe. He had never actually seen the spell preformed. He knew Dumbledore used a wordless variation, but visual spell had completely different results. As the white flash consumed Harry, the teenager stood in an almost trance. The traces of struggled formed in the manifestations of concentrated beads of light. When too long a time passed Snape released the spell, causing Harry to collapse with the sudden loss of support from the spell.
"Obviously Lupin did not tell you enough." Severus spared a short accusing glance for the aforementioned wizard. "You are suppose to stop me from seeing your memories. Get up and try again." Harry gave a grim nod and stood. He was facing away from Remus, so the werewolf could not see the teenager's facial expression but imagined it to be determined. He frowned at Snape's method of teaching. There was a slight helpless feeling as he could accomplish nothing by interfering. "Ready. Legilimens."
The same actions took place. This time the signs of struggle clarified and solidified. It took several long moments, but Harry managed to dispel the lingering affects and return it to the caster. Harry still collapsed once the spell diminished, though not as hard as the first. Snape was also affected. He was rubbing his right wrist, his wand hand.
"Did you intend to produce a stinging hex?"
"No."
"I thought not. Again. Wand ready. Legilimens." The spell seemed no stronger than previously, yet Harry managed to have more difficulties. At least that was what Remus thought until the spell was reversed violently. Severus staggered a step back before regaining control and shutting it out. Harry promptly fell from the force. "Enough for today. Tomorrow night at eight we shall see if you remember anything," Snape said abruptly and began a retreat to the door.
"Was that Salvador?" Apparently Harry had not expected to say that aloud. Remus wondered what Severus's father had to do with this situation.
Snape turned sharply on his heel to face Harry. Harshly he said, "That is none of your business."
"He just didn't act the way Madame Pince described him."
Sneering, "That is possibly because he wasn't. Nor is that any of your business." Snape left before anything else could be said.
"What was that about?" Remus questioned as he assisted Harry to his feet.
"That last time I think I saw Snape's memories. And one had a man that looked a lot like Snape yelling at a woman."
"But how do you know about Severus's father?"
"By accident. Hermione wanted to know who S.O.S. was. Found out it's a Snape family tradition to publish underage wizards by the name S.O.S. We think Snape published that potions book, but can't be sure."
"You said something about Pince?"
"Yeah, she said Salvador died while protecting his wife from Aurors. It didn't sound right for him to be abusive to her, if that was true."
"Let's go look through the library again. Perhaps Rowena knows something that will help solve this mystery."
"Isn't it odd to have only found Ravenclaw's portrait? Surely if there's one Founder, there would be the other three?"
"Or at least one or two others. I agree. If what Sirius says is correct, Slytherin should be represented. But it is likely for those to be in another part of the castle."
"You mean places Snape won't let us go to."
"Precisely. Though I'm wondering how you felt about this first Occlumency lesson?"
"If it wasn't with Snape I'd feel better about it."
"I'll second that. He knows what he is doing but doesn't teach very well. It's a good thing Dumbledore requested one other person to be present. I don't want to imagine the tension that would come between the two of you alone."
"Agreed. But why does it have to be Snape? Why not you or Sirius?"
"Because neither I nor Sirius know Occlumency, much less Legilimency. Occlumency is designed to keep out intruders while Legilimency is the spell to directly enter someone's mind. I never heard of either until my seventh year in Defense class. It was one of those lessons where the teacher was not very interested in teaching something no one would ever need to know. In fact he never said a word regarding those spells, they were only mentioned by name in our book. And I am fairly certain Sirius never learned it or his stay in Azkaban might have been easier."
"What about Dumbledore?"
"Extremely busy with the Order and Ministry. I also think he is not as strong in Occlumency as Severus. Stronger in Legilimency, so you might never be able to push him out like you did Severus."
"But I managed to enter Snape's mind."
"Probably because he wasn't paying attention, underestimating you. What was his first thought?"
"Shooting flies."
"Sounds like he was bored."
"Better than mine, I guess."
"Why?"
"Better to be bored than humiliated."
"I suppose so. Though I can safely say Severus had his share of humiliation."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not proud to say this, but he was the most common target of your father's and Sirius's pranks. I don't think it helped that Severus became friends with Sirius's older brother, Regulus, despite the two year difference. Come to think of it, Severus had no friends his age or younger. They were all much older than him."
"Wasn't he your age?"
"Either that or just a bit younger. I actually think he was a bit younger. He was always smaller than the rest of us until seventh year."
"Oh."
* * * * * * *
This was intolerable. A mere boy with no training should not have any ability in interrupting a person's mind. Especially not his mind. Granted Severus had expected Potter to be able to block foreign minds sooner than most, but not a full blown reversion of that act. If he must, he would admit that the boy surprised him, nothing more than that.
"Never again."
"Now what Irvan?" Just what he needed. A vampire who did not believe in the sympathetic ear.
The vampire looked over his shoulder as he closed the laboratory door. In the strange light cast by several small fires, Irvan's expression would be akin to barely suppressed frustration. "Oh. I see you enjoyed your little encounter as well."
Without sparing a glance, Severus tartly told the man, "Unless you have suddenly turned blind, I am currently busy."
"Far be it from me to interrupt." Irvan then promptly took a seat directly across from Severus's workbench.
"Very well." Glancing from his cauldron, Severus noted the peculiar expression drawn uncharacteristically on the vampire's features. "What was it that the mutt said to get you all flustered?"
"I do not get flustered!" Severus only spared a withering glare of impatience. "I doubt Sirius understood the importance of what he said, but I do not doubt that the statement germinated from memories gleaned from the encounter with yourself and Voldemort."
"Speak plainly. Is he or is he not recovering his memories?"
"No. Not actual memories, but impressions that he is not understanding. He related to me how his dreams of Azkaban were becoming more violent and involving you of all people."
"And he told you all this?" he asked skeptically.
"He was quite drunk at the time."
"Which I am sure you assisted."
"It is easier to read a man when he is slightly intoxicated," Irvan stated without second thoughts. "However, it was not his dreams that worry me. During this time there was a dramatic change in his temperament. For a moment I thought I felt the presence of Voldemort. Right before he decided to smash my face in," the vampire finished sulkily.
"Be glad that was all he did," he said seriously, for it sounded as if the Dark Lord was beginning to test his pet project, likely not knowing where it was located. "If this is to continue without having found a counter curse, you are going to have to watch both Potter and Black. Mostly Black, especially when he is alone with Potter."
"No. I will not . . ."
"You are more suited to unnoticed spying. And it has already been determined that the werewolf cannot sense you in animagus form."
"But Black can."
"Use your other form. If he cannot find you then you have nothing to fear."
"There is no arguing with you, is there? You've planned this out neatly in that mind of yours."
"Get out."
"You have work to do. Not to mention finding a suitable explanation for Dumbledore."
"Correct," he snarled. "And that is not getting done with you here. Now get out."
"Of course, and leave you to your misery. I would suggest informing both the werewolf and the boy of the animagus's condition. I suspect the Headmaster would begin to gain a similar opinion once you fail to produce a counter curse."
"You are of no help. Now get out." Unfortunately, the vampire was right, once again. Black would know about his involvement once the memories broke through, sooner or later. Severus preferred it to be later, after a counter curse was discovered or created. But it did not appear as though the potions he created were having an affect. Not immediate enough, but still working.
At this rate Black's memories of that week would return in several years. That would have been the light at the end of the tunnel, except for the small disaster that would occur should Black escape notice. In that event, Irvan's favorite pessimistic parable came true, "The light you see at the end of the tunnel, is the head-lantern of the fast approaching train." Severus really should stop listening to the vampire. He was pessimistic enough and had yet to encounter a single pleasant surprise. Everything had gone from bad to worse.
_______________________________________________________
I now humbly present to you the first chapter of "Something" written and sent from Osaka, Japan, my current residence for the next year, so you will forgive the less frequent updates; but as long as my computer cooperates and I have internet access, I will continue to progress on this story.
To those who reviewed in my absence, a great thank you.
And to those who have so diligently waited and faithfully returned, I reward thee with an extra long chapter containing every point of interest reasonably compiled into one selection. _____________________________________________
Chapter 27
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Morning came with unusual abruptness, that is not to say the sun rose than its normal gradual self, or that nature decided upon another course of action. However, there were some occupants woken rudely with a morning symphony complete with a growling and snapping dog and plenty of broken cookery, not to mention other inhuman sounds.
* Go away, you mangy mutt! First it's cats, now it's dogs. What next? The bloody werewolf? *
* Keep it down, Evan. I'm trying to sleep. *
* Trying to sleep, he says. That would be better accommodated if you called off this dog of yours. *
* I don't have a dog, * was the immediate reply. No, Harry did not have a dog: he had a godfather who could transform into a dog. He groaned as he dragged himself from the nice, comfortable, warm bed. * Where are you, Evan? *
* Parlor. *
Sensing urgency, Harry made headway towards the stairs. Now removed from slumber, he was much more animate. He certainly did not want his gift from Hagrid mauled by his godfather. He paused ever so briefly by Remus's room just as the Professor opened the door to see what the racket was all about.
"Harry, what is it?"
"Sirius is attacking Evan. Don't know why," he said rushing past.
Within the parlor, otherwise known as the formal sitting room where Phineas's portrait took residence, Harry discovered a sight oddly reminiscent of earlier in the summer at the Burrow. But instead of a large ginger cat pawing underneath the china cabinet, it was a large black dog. In the interests of keeping both supposed animals alive, he was about to call to his godfather when Remus intervened.
"Sirius! Just what do you think you are doing?"
The Newfoundland ceased his barrage in favor of glancing towards the intruders to his game. The next instant a man stood in place of the canine. "That thing is not a spider," Sirius stated. "I don't know what it is, but it is not natural!"
"We figured that much out, Sirius. It is of magical descendent, of course it is not what we deem natural," Lupin replied calmly.
"I know what magical smells like. And that spider is not a spider in any sense. It doesn't smell right."
"Such eloquence, Black." Their sour host entered, announcing his presence with his most disgusted aristocratic drawl. However, Harry thought he detected amusement which might have become more apparent in the next statement. "I see you found yourself a new chew-toy. However I would prefer if you took your games to less valuable rooms." Harry listened slightly confused, the only time he had ever heard the slightest hint of amusement was when Snape had found a way to get him in trouble, perhaps it applied to Sirius as well.
"That thing is not s spider," Sirius repeated.
"Is that so? Where is it now?"
"Evan's under the cabinet," Harry supplied without knowing why. * You are still there, aren't you? *
* Of course I am. Somebody should put a leash on that animagus. And if that man is going to play this humorously . . . * Evan left the threat hanging.
"Of course it is," Snape said absently as he moved to the fireplace. Ignoring the three sets of disinterested, curious eyes, Snape ignited the hearth, removed black powder from an ornate crystal container and tossed it into the flames. Harry's question was why was the Potion's Professor flooing anyone over such a trivial matter? Then again was it even trivial? Once the merry orange flames changed green, he said, "Hogwarts: Headmaster Dumbledore's office, Password, Iced Mice."
As if the Headmaster was waiting for the firecall, his head popped into existence in Snape's hearth. "Ah, Severus, what brings you here this fine winter morning?"
"It would seem Snuffles," Snape snarled the name, "has stumbled upon something better left anonymous."
"I see. I am sure you can deal with the situation appropriately, though it might be time to inform the others. I must leave this to you. And Happy Christmas to you." With that Dumbledore disappeared from sight, leaving Snape quietly cursing his fate.
"You might as well come out now," he said in the direction of the china cabinet. Harry wondered at the statement even as Evan promptly complied. He didn't have long to stay curious as the spider proved himself to be an animagus. Who just happened to be Irvan. Sirius and Remus remained stunned several moments longer as connections flew.
Then they released the accusations. "You let THAT be that close to Harry!" Sirius rampaged against Snape, while Remus directed his attack towards Irvan.
"THAT was how you were fulfilling your responsibility? Completely irresponsible!"
"It's not as though I had a choice in the matter," Irvan replied calmly, even if slightly unnerved by the werewolf. An action Harry did not fully understand, but would know before the holiday was over.
"If you must know," Snape explained to Sirius without normal constraints on temper. "The entire ordeal was sanctioned by Dumbledore." Soon enough both Marauders ganged up on Snape, once Remus had concluded that Irvan was ignorant of what he wanted to know.
* Idiots. * The voice in his head surprised Harry once again. * You didn't think this strange connection would go away upon transforming, did you? *
* Er. No. It's just, . . . well, I guess I just wasn't expecting it," he finished lamely.
"Irvan!" a new voice broke the hostile atmosphere. "What an unpleasant surprise to find you amongst the living."
"Phineas, such a displeasure meeting you post-mortem. I much preferred you feigning death."
"Merlin knows you belong as dust on the wind."
"I had it straight from Merlin's mouth that he did not care one way or the other about us."
"You know each other?" Snape broke from the still arguing Marauders.
"Quite," Phineas stated tritely.
At Snape's raised eyebrow, Irvan replied, "Ask Sylvester."
"It would appear my great-grandfather was more eccentric than the family gave credit for. Though why are you here, Phineas?"
"Dumbledore thought it necessary for me to carry messages for his precious Order."
"You have my sympathy, but what is it that the headmaster could not have told me a moment ago?"
"It is not from him. It's from that crazed Auror trying to demolish my house." Snape smirk slightly at the oil painting's ravings, but not enough to aggravate the messenger. "He says he will need the first potion tonight and the second two nights from now."
"Doesn't trust me to finish, does he," Snape muttered mincingly. "Tell him they have to go through Dumbledore first." Phineas left without pleasantries and Snape immediately stalked out of the room.
In the confused silence, they all heard Irvan state under his breath, "Wonderful. Abandon me in hostile territory," before he moved to the exit.
"You're not going anywhere," Sirius stopped him physically.
"Honestly, Sirius, don't you think it is too early for this. It's hardly past seven. What were you doing up this early anyway?"
"Exploring. Didn't expect the git to be up. Nor to find that thing," he pointed to the vampire.
"Such an astute observation." Irvan stepped out of Sirius's reach.
"No one asked you."
"Quite. But more to the point. The mere fact that you have no inkling as to how any of this works proves that you do not have the capacity to reconcile the differences brought upon the situation. And considering your inability to comprehend the differences compounded by this situation, it is no wonder you are unable to perceive the current complications correctly."
"Does that even mean anything in English?"
"To put into words your brain can process: You are an inept idiot."
Spell casting supposedly needed time to work. Harry failed to see either man move until the aftermath. His godfather was on the floor supporting his head. And the vampire still stood, but with a nasty gash along his jaw line. "If you will excuse me," Irvan managed politely and glided beyond the reach of the startled spectators.
"Is he all right?" Harry asked standing behind Remus as the Professor looked to his friend.
"Sirius? Oh, he's fine. Just a bump on the head. Nothing serious."
"I'm going to kill that good for nothing, blood sucking leech." Sirius was in excellent physical and mental condition, if he could manage to produce a threat.
"That's not very original," Remus chided.
"I'm not in the mood to be original."
"If that is the case, you might as well wait your turn. I'm claiming first dibs. Now, let's see about breakfast."
* * * * * * *
This was most definitely not the assignment Irvan wanted. He was now playing nursemaid to an adult with the temperament of a child in addition to a child with the temperament of an adult. And frankly he preferred the child. When his prey failed to have congregated in the parlor, he began his search elsewhere, beginning with the library. He had not expected to overhear a discussion about thestrals.
"And why are you doing this, Harry?" his intended target, Sirius Black, asked, oblivious as to why anyone would work over the holiday.
"Professor Grubbyplanks wants us to research a creature we would like to study but can't because of availability."
"But why a thestral? Those things are bad luck."
"Probably because it was one of the few things on the list I've never heard of. Ron didn't know what he was researching when I left and Hermione was going to use her essay on werewolves from third year as a basis for a new essay. Said something about getting the work graded."
"You should have offered to read it, Moony."
"Probably, but I admit I was not thinking about that at the time. You want a book about thestrals, right Harry? If we can find a copy of Tudunk's book, you'll be all set. Severus is bound to have a copy."
"North wall, third shelf from the top."
"Thank you, Rowena." There was silence for several moments. "Ah, here we are. Both editions. I'm surprised Hermione did not lend your her edition."
"She said there was some new information not in the Hogwarts Library. And it is likely she is going to let Ron use it. Wow, ten pages just for thestrals! No wonder you said I'd be set." More silence and Irvan was tempted to walk in to see what Black was doing. It was obvious that the other two were engaged in research, and he did not want his target to get away. "I don't understand this," Harry spoke aloud in hopes of clarification. "It says: a man who has witness the catastrophe that is the permanent loss of the spiritual element which supports the physical entity possesses the capacity of viewing a thestral should an opportunity present itself to the man in question."
"Oh, that's just a poetic way of saying if you see someone die you can see a thestral. Otherwise it's invisible." Well, it seemed the animagus was not completely ignorant.
"Then that means I should be able to," Harry responded thoughtfully.
"Huh? Why?"
"Cedric, remember." The boy sounded too depressed for one his age. "But then shouldn't you be able to see them?"
"A thestral? I guess so, but I don't think I've ever seen one. Where should we go to find them." Black actually sounded interested, almost eager.
"Hagrid told me they pull the horseless carriages," the werewolf supplied.
"Then why can't I see them? I've used those many times this year."
"Haven't the faintest."
Irvan, for the preservation of correct knowledge, decided to make his presence known. "If you read further, it will tell you that it takes time for the psyche to process the disturbance brought upon it caused by the destruction of the harmonious blend of energies presented by a complex, intelligent and rational being."
"Say that again in English."
Without sparing the offender a glance, he rephrased for Harry's benefit; the poor boy looked lost. "In other words, it takes time for a person to comprehend that a death has occurred. There are many factors which complicate matters, all depending on the individual, the situation, and the method of death."
"So why can't Harry see one?"
"It is possible he has seen one without knowing, but since they do pull the carriages, I find that unlikely. Another reason is his unconscious refuses to accept what it has witness, or that it did not recognize it, or even more unlikely, that he sis not view the actual death. Among other smaller factors that would only cause trouble if the circumstances were correct. It is my opinion that the action happened too fast for Harry's mind to understand instantly and it is still working out the details necessary for acceptance."
"So he hasn't accepted."
"No, his unconscious is still working on the finer details of understanding. Harry has accepted, but his unconscious is a few steps behind. Thins is not as simple as yes or nor."
"Then why hasn't Sirius seen one? He witness death twelve years ago."
"As I understand Sirius's position, he was not of the mindset to recognize death for what it was. First of all, did you recognize the dead from the injured when the incident occurred?"
"No."
"And you were not given the time to see who died?"
"No."
"I am certain you were never told the number during your incarceration."
"No, I wasn't."
"And Azkaban is not a location conductive to understanding. And since you spent a great deal of time as a dog, your human psyche did not develop the required understanding. That is because a dog's mind is severely less complex than a man's. In addition, the resulting insanity from Azkaban hindered his process of understanding. While not permanent, its affects last awhile."
"So Sirius can't see them because he wasn't given the required time to understand what he saw."
"In an elementary explanation, yes."
Sirius, now leaning over Harry's shoulder so he could see the text, asked, "So what do they look like anyway?"
The boy turned a few pages to reveal an artist's rendering. "The sketch looks like a winged horse."
"Like a pegasus?"
"Hardly," Irvan answered, lip curled in distaste. To him it was impossible to confuse a pegasus with a thestral. "The only features a thestral shares with Pegasus is a horse like shape and wings. It is a reptile in every other form and function, including being carnivorous." As he finished he noticed the werewolf watching him curiously. It was that man's attention Irvan desperately wanted to avoid. Not just because the man was a werewolf, but also because the man was intelligent enough to make connections Irvan was not ready to reveal.
"What else do you know about thestrals?" Lupin asked.
"The boy is going to learn nothing if he keeps asking me. And is is unlikely quoting me will be considered a reliable source."
"He's right. Professor Grubbyplanks wouldn't accept Irvan the Vampire as a real source."
"No, I don't suppose she would," the werewolf said still looking at Irvan. "But she would accept Herman Tudunk."
"I shall leave you to your research," Irvan comment as he moved to the exit. He would have like to have chatted with Rowena, but not while the mass of Gryffindors graced the room.
"Enjoy yourselves, but I find research tedious."
"You always have. I have yet to see you open a book that did not contain pictures," Lupin gave a halfhearted attempt at banter, though it was obvious that he was more interested in the book. So that let the animagus follow Irvan out the door, without the vampire having to subject the man to subconscious influence. Pressing the mental barrier between himself and Severus, Irvan waited acknowledgment, * They're all yours, * he directed towards the Potions Master. * They are in Rowena's Library, researching. you had best approach them now for I do not know how long I can keep him otherwise engaged. *
* Getting him drunk on cheap liquor ought to take him out of commission. *
* Wonderful. A drunk mutt. *
* * * * * * *
"Do you think it was a good idea to let Sirius follow Irvan?"
"Probably not, but at least we know Irvan won't harm Sirius too badly. But if we don't see either of them by nightfall we should go looking." Remus was not worried for his friend, but he was concerned at the outcome of his and the vampire's discussion. Whatever was discussed could not help them make a peaceful relationship. He and Harry returned to their books. Something the vampire had said had reminded him far too greatly of a passage in Tudunk's book. However, he was interrupted by yet another intruder, on turning he found Snape in the doorway.
"Occlumency lessons in half an hour," he stated bluntly and was on the verge to go as Remus called out to him.
"You expect us to stop what we are doing just to accommodate you?"
"Unlike you I do not have unlimited leisure time. Half an hour warning is plenty of time for you to finish whatever project you have elected to preform. Now unless you would prefer to begin the lessons now, I will meet you in half an hour."
"Now is as good a time as any. What do you think, Harry?"
"Can't find reason to delay." Remus sensed Harry's reluctance, after all who would want to be stuck with Snape voluntarily for an hour. At least he and Harry discussed why these lessons were important, and Harry had understood the reasons, but that was no reason to be pleased about it.
Snape sneered at the answer. "Very well." Harry and Remus followed Snape to the dueling Hall. Remus had not ceased wondering in amazement at the story Sirius related about this Hall. Cillian Cavan was the strongest area within Ciara Alyosius. The wards were so designed to keep destructive spells within the walls, preventing any on the other side of the doors to witness or fall victim to a carelessly thrown spell from the mists of an enraged duel. Thus Cillian Cavan was the safest place to reside should invading forces attempt to breach the castle.
Sirius had also told the legend, passed down through his family through the ages, regarding the reason Ciara Alyosius was made unplottable. According to legend, a band of jealous wizards tried to destroy the building, but the wards were maintained from within Cillian Cavan. No one made it past the first gate, much less the front door. Because, Sirius had told them, the Snape family had not wanted to deal with another assault they found a way to hide their location from everyone To be sure not a soul could undo their wards, they never relinquished the information about their particular charm.
"Shall I assume Lupin has informed you as to what Occlumency is," Severus asked upon entry. Harry nodded uncertainly. Remus had told him everything he knew, but Remus was no longer sure that was everything Harry needed to know. "Then we shall begin."
"Perhaps it would be best to explain it to him, since you are accomplished in the field." It was at least an attempt to get Severus to explain the finer points.
"Would you prefer the task? Then kindly desist. Now, Potter, clear you mind of all thoughts and prepare yourself. One. . . two. . . three. . . Legilimens."
Remus watched in awe. He had never actually seen the spell preformed. He knew Dumbledore used a wordless variation, but visual spell had completely different results. As the white flash consumed Harry, the teenager stood in an almost trance. The traces of struggled formed in the manifestations of concentrated beads of light. When too long a time passed Snape released the spell, causing Harry to collapse with the sudden loss of support from the spell.
"Obviously Lupin did not tell you enough." Severus spared a short accusing glance for the aforementioned wizard. "You are suppose to stop me from seeing your memories. Get up and try again." Harry gave a grim nod and stood. He was facing away from Remus, so the werewolf could not see the teenager's facial expression but imagined it to be determined. He frowned at Snape's method of teaching. There was a slight helpless feeling as he could accomplish nothing by interfering. "Ready. Legilimens."
The same actions took place. This time the signs of struggle clarified and solidified. It took several long moments, but Harry managed to dispel the lingering affects and return it to the caster. Harry still collapsed once the spell diminished, though not as hard as the first. Snape was also affected. He was rubbing his right wrist, his wand hand.
"Did you intend to produce a stinging hex?"
"No."
"I thought not. Again. Wand ready. Legilimens." The spell seemed no stronger than previously, yet Harry managed to have more difficulties. At least that was what Remus thought until the spell was reversed violently. Severus staggered a step back before regaining control and shutting it out. Harry promptly fell from the force. "Enough for today. Tomorrow night at eight we shall see if you remember anything," Snape said abruptly and began a retreat to the door.
"Was that Salvador?" Apparently Harry had not expected to say that aloud. Remus wondered what Severus's father had to do with this situation.
Snape turned sharply on his heel to face Harry. Harshly he said, "That is none of your business."
"He just didn't act the way Madame Pince described him."
Sneering, "That is possibly because he wasn't. Nor is that any of your business." Snape left before anything else could be said.
"What was that about?" Remus questioned as he assisted Harry to his feet.
"That last time I think I saw Snape's memories. And one had a man that looked a lot like Snape yelling at a woman."
"But how do you know about Severus's father?"
"By accident. Hermione wanted to know who S.O.S. was. Found out it's a Snape family tradition to publish underage wizards by the name S.O.S. We think Snape published that potions book, but can't be sure."
"You said something about Pince?"
"Yeah, she said Salvador died while protecting his wife from Aurors. It didn't sound right for him to be abusive to her, if that was true."
"Let's go look through the library again. Perhaps Rowena knows something that will help solve this mystery."
"Isn't it odd to have only found Ravenclaw's portrait? Surely if there's one Founder, there would be the other three?"
"Or at least one or two others. I agree. If what Sirius says is correct, Slytherin should be represented. But it is likely for those to be in another part of the castle."
"You mean places Snape won't let us go to."
"Precisely. Though I'm wondering how you felt about this first Occlumency lesson?"
"If it wasn't with Snape I'd feel better about it."
"I'll second that. He knows what he is doing but doesn't teach very well. It's a good thing Dumbledore requested one other person to be present. I don't want to imagine the tension that would come between the two of you alone."
"Agreed. But why does it have to be Snape? Why not you or Sirius?"
"Because neither I nor Sirius know Occlumency, much less Legilimency. Occlumency is designed to keep out intruders while Legilimency is the spell to directly enter someone's mind. I never heard of either until my seventh year in Defense class. It was one of those lessons where the teacher was not very interested in teaching something no one would ever need to know. In fact he never said a word regarding those spells, they were only mentioned by name in our book. And I am fairly certain Sirius never learned it or his stay in Azkaban might have been easier."
"What about Dumbledore?"
"Extremely busy with the Order and Ministry. I also think he is not as strong in Occlumency as Severus. Stronger in Legilimency, so you might never be able to push him out like you did Severus."
"But I managed to enter Snape's mind."
"Probably because he wasn't paying attention, underestimating you. What was his first thought?"
"Shooting flies."
"Sounds like he was bored."
"Better than mine, I guess."
"Why?"
"Better to be bored than humiliated."
"I suppose so. Though I can safely say Severus had his share of humiliation."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not proud to say this, but he was the most common target of your father's and Sirius's pranks. I don't think it helped that Severus became friends with Sirius's older brother, Regulus, despite the two year difference. Come to think of it, Severus had no friends his age or younger. They were all much older than him."
"Wasn't he your age?"
"Either that or just a bit younger. I actually think he was a bit younger. He was always smaller than the rest of us until seventh year."
"Oh."
* * * * * * *
This was intolerable. A mere boy with no training should not have any ability in interrupting a person's mind. Especially not his mind. Granted Severus had expected Potter to be able to block foreign minds sooner than most, but not a full blown reversion of that act. If he must, he would admit that the boy surprised him, nothing more than that.
"Never again."
"Now what Irvan?" Just what he needed. A vampire who did not believe in the sympathetic ear.
The vampire looked over his shoulder as he closed the laboratory door. In the strange light cast by several small fires, Irvan's expression would be akin to barely suppressed frustration. "Oh. I see you enjoyed your little encounter as well."
Without sparing a glance, Severus tartly told the man, "Unless you have suddenly turned blind, I am currently busy."
"Far be it from me to interrupt." Irvan then promptly took a seat directly across from Severus's workbench.
"Very well." Glancing from his cauldron, Severus noted the peculiar expression drawn uncharacteristically on the vampire's features. "What was it that the mutt said to get you all flustered?"
"I do not get flustered!" Severus only spared a withering glare of impatience. "I doubt Sirius understood the importance of what he said, but I do not doubt that the statement germinated from memories gleaned from the encounter with yourself and Voldemort."
"Speak plainly. Is he or is he not recovering his memories?"
"No. Not actual memories, but impressions that he is not understanding. He related to me how his dreams of Azkaban were becoming more violent and involving you of all people."
"And he told you all this?" he asked skeptically.
"He was quite drunk at the time."
"Which I am sure you assisted."
"It is easier to read a man when he is slightly intoxicated," Irvan stated without second thoughts. "However, it was not his dreams that worry me. During this time there was a dramatic change in his temperament. For a moment I thought I felt the presence of Voldemort. Right before he decided to smash my face in," the vampire finished sulkily.
"Be glad that was all he did," he said seriously, for it sounded as if the Dark Lord was beginning to test his pet project, likely not knowing where it was located. "If this is to continue without having found a counter curse, you are going to have to watch both Potter and Black. Mostly Black, especially when he is alone with Potter."
"No. I will not . . ."
"You are more suited to unnoticed spying. And it has already been determined that the werewolf cannot sense you in animagus form."
"But Black can."
"Use your other form. If he cannot find you then you have nothing to fear."
"There is no arguing with you, is there? You've planned this out neatly in that mind of yours."
"Get out."
"You have work to do. Not to mention finding a suitable explanation for Dumbledore."
"Correct," he snarled. "And that is not getting done with you here. Now get out."
"Of course, and leave you to your misery. I would suggest informing both the werewolf and the boy of the animagus's condition. I suspect the Headmaster would begin to gain a similar opinion once you fail to produce a counter curse."
"You are of no help. Now get out." Unfortunately, the vampire was right, once again. Black would know about his involvement once the memories broke through, sooner or later. Severus preferred it to be later, after a counter curse was discovered or created. But it did not appear as though the potions he created were having an affect. Not immediate enough, but still working.
At this rate Black's memories of that week would return in several years. That would have been the light at the end of the tunnel, except for the small disaster that would occur should Black escape notice. In that event, Irvan's favorite pessimistic parable came true, "The light you see at the end of the tunnel, is the head-lantern of the fast approaching train." Severus really should stop listening to the vampire. He was pessimistic enough and had yet to encounter a single pleasant surprise. Everything had gone from bad to worse.
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