Chapter 7
"Did you mean that about letting him read your mind?" asked Harry at Herbology thinking of his Occlumency lessons.
"Yes; and if he can manage to find anything in there other than what I want him to see then he's better than I thought he was." Bakura's tone was cool and confident.
"But Snape is really good at it. He's teaching Harry Occlumency," Hermione protested.
Marik blinked at her. "What's Occlumency?"
"He's trying to teach Harry how to seal his mind against magic or something." Ron told them.
"Occlumency seals the mind against magical influence and intrusion." Hermione sounded like she was quoting from some textbook. "It's opposite, Legilimency, is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another persons mind."
"So you're saying that Snape is a mind-reader?" Yami asked.
"No, Snape gave me quite a lecture on that. He says it's nothing as simple as mind reading; that thoughts aren't just written down for you to read..." What are you all staring at me for?"
"You actually paid attention to Snape?" Ron asked him.
"Of course I..." Harry was interrupted by Hermione.
"Of course he did Ron. This isn't something minor. It could prevent you-know-who from getting into his mind and finding out everything from it."
What does he mean your thoughts aren't written down in your mind?" asked Yami incredulously, "Is he stupid or something?"
"Not everyone keeps a mental diary like you do Yami." Marik told him scathingly. "And besides, it depends on your perception of your mind. This perception is influenced both by thoughts of the one whose mind you're reading and the person who's reading your mind."
"How would you know," Hermione asked suspiciously.
"At one time I owned an item that allowed me to see inside other's minds." Marik told her calmly.
"Also we have been taught to go inside our own minds." Yami said, "I've got a big book in there that records all my thoughts."
"Mine swirl around inside the walls." said Marik looking bored.
"Yeah, and mine are written on the walls. In various languages. And in code. And in hieroglyphs no matter what language it is. So there's no chance of anyone ever understanding them."
"Isn't that a little excessive?" Hermione asked superciliously, "I mean it's not as if anyone's going to try and get into your mind in the first place is it?"
"Yes," Yami's voice was amused. "Many people have tried to read our minds for various reasons."
"Well you don't exactly take precautions against them do you?" Hermione was being self-righteous.
"Actually, yes; my mind is a maze. It's so hard to get around that I've managed to get lost there myself. And the way a lot of the stairs and things are upside down doesn't help much either."
"So yours is really just as well guarded as theirs?" asked Hermione at the same time as Ron said, "I don't understand a word of this, could you explain it to me."
Marik grinned, "Yes to Hermione and no to Ron. This isn't something that can be easily explained and it would take at least a year to get you to understand what we're talking about even without all the schoolwork we have to do."
'Why did I have to say that?' Malfoy fumed. He still hadn't gotten over what had happened the day before. 'It's not as if it made any difference to him. He's just like all the rest of the stupid Gryffindors. Well he and his friends can just go to hell for all I care. Bastards.'
It wasn't till then that he noticed Bakura standing in front of him. "Yes," he snapped.
"I, well, I just wanted to say thank you, you know for actually caring. And, I'm... sorry for ignoring you. I just... Oh I don't know. I'm sorry." And he ran off, face red.
"O –oh," Malfoy stared after him in amazement. So did the other boys around him. 'This,' thought Malfoy 'Is why I asked.' No Gryffindor had ever apologized to a Slytherin without having to be coerced by a teacher before. Then they turned to stare at Malfoy.
"Caring, Malfoy?" sneered Pansy. "That's low, actually caring for a Gryffindor."
"Yeah, what did he mean 'caring' Draco?" Marcus Flint didn't look happy.
"Nothing important," Malfoy told them flippantly, mind racing, "He was just ignoring me while I insulted him so I asked if he was okay. I can normally get a rise out of anyone and I wasn't pleased at his lack of response."
Pansy giggled, animosity forgotten. "And he thought you cared, Man he must be thick."
"Yeah," Crabbe agreed dully.
"How would you know Crabbe, you're probably thicker than he is." Malfoy stalked off to the Slytherin dormitories muttering under his breath. He had finally had someone talk to him for some reason other than his position as a Malfoy or to insult him 'cause they thought he was a git and his so-called 'friends' had to ruin it. Some friends they were. He wanted to talk to someone who saw him as just another person.
"Hey Bakura what were you doing over there? You do realize that was the Slytherin table don't you?" Ron asked curiously.
"And why are you blushing?" Hermione added shrewdly.
"I don't like apologizing that's all," Bakura slipped into the space next to Marik. "I don't do it often you know."
"And why would you need to apologize to a Slytherin?" Harry's tone was ominous.
"I, unlike you, don't really care about the inter-house rivalries." Bakura told him sharply. "They seem to me like childish arguments and I'm not going to become involved in them. I was apologizing to Malfoy for ignoring him." With that he turned his attention pointedly to his plate.
"I agree with him," Yami spoke up, "Although I don't see why he suddenly feels the need to apologize inter-house rivalries don't serve any useful purpose and should be disposed of. Of course I still think Malfoy's a git but I'll withhold my judgment from the other Slytherins."
"So speaks the great pharaoh," Marik mocked, "Of course you're right though."
"I don't see it. And you'll soon figure out that out. Isn't Bakura supposed to see Snape now? He'll find out there just how vile Slytherins can be." This, surprisingly enough, was Hermione. She had decided that Malfoy was the role model for the rest of the Slytherins and thus all Slytherins were bad.
"No, I've got a couple of minutes. Snape only just left the great hall and I'm going to wait for him to get himself ready first."
"Better not keep him waiting long. He gets really mad at tardiness." Ron warned.
"Okay, okay, I'm going already." Bakura got up from the table and slipped out of the great hall.
"Why do I get the feeling that something's going to go wrong?" Yami asked.
Walking to the dungeons Bakura cleared his mind of everything but the memories he wanted Snape to see. The corridors got smaller and darker as he walked along. When he finally got to Snape's office Snape was waiting for him, a sneer curling his mouth. "So, you can't even arrive on time? Five points from Gryffindor for your tardiness. And now prepare yourself. Having memories extracted from you is a disturbing process for some. Leglimus!" Light erupted from his wand toward Bakura and Bakura suddenly found himself barraged by a bunch of someone else's memories. A little greasy-haired kid cowering in the corner while his parents fought. The same boy, grown older and in Hogwarts robes staring at a test that had been done badly. The kid being picked on by a bully with messy black hair and green eyes.
And then as soon as they had begun the memories stopped. Bakura opened his eyes to see Snape staring at him wide-eyed. "How, did you, do that?" Snape panted.
"Do what? I didn't do anything! You did something weird and suddenly I was getting your memories. What did you do?"
"I- I did nothing. This was you. You're excused for now. Go back, back to wherever you came from. I will see you next Potions class." Snape still looked shocked and not too happy.
"Yes sir." Bakura bowed politely and left.
"So you see how strange that was?" Bakura said, "Instead of him looking through my memories I got his."
"He must not be that good then if you got into his head on accident." Marik was laughing at Bakura's rendition of his talk with Snape. He'd made Snape look like an idiot, or like Malfoy, not that there was any difference between the two.
"Yeah, I would've expected different. At least you shouldn't have gotten into his memories on accident!" Hermione looked shocked at this evidence that Snape wasn't as good as she had thought.
"Ah well, we ought to be heading to Transfiguration now." Yami commented, staring at Hermione. "We don't want to be late for McGonagall."
"Yeah," Marik stood up. "Anyone but McGonagall, she's a dragon. C'mon let's go already."
The others laughed and followed him to Transfiguration where they learned vanishing spells. They didn't have time to talk again until lunch time and Bakura disappeared again with Marik following him.
"Where did they go do you think?" Hermione asked Yami.
"Probably somewhere they're not supposed to be but haven't been specifically told not to go. I'd guess somewhere dangerous. I just hope they remember that we've got to learn how to fly a broomstick after lunch."
"So what are we doing this for?" Marik asked, feeding Malik another grape.
"I'm doing this 'cause I feel like it." Bakura said, doing the same for Ryou. It had been his example which had started this. "I don't know about you. It's nice to have you here though."
"Really?" Marik blushed, turning his head to hide the red in his cheeks. "It's nice of you to say so."
The silence that followed was companionable until Marik suddenly swore possessing Malik again. "We've got to learn how to do this thing on broomsticks right now, remember?"
Bakura followed his lead, also swearing and just jumped off the tower with Marik right after him. They used shadow magic to control their landings and ran around the corner to where Madame Hooch and Yami were waiting. "'Bout time you got here." Yami told them, "We were about to start without you."
"We would not have started without them." Madame Hooch's voice was severe. "However they would have both been given detentions if they had been any later. You are Bakura and Marik, correct?"
"Yes," They chorused listlessly.
"I am here to teach you three how to fly. You will learn the basics of broom control and what to do in the air. As the Quidditch team has some vacancies if you do well enough you may be able to get on the team. Now step over to beside your brooms like so and say 'up'." Her broom jumped into her hand at her voice.
The boys followed her lead and the broomsticks obediently jumped up. "Good, now mount your broom. Like so." She showed them how to mount and grip their brooms although she seemed slightly surprised at their ignorance. "Now kick off gently." They kicked of and went shooting into the air, where they hovered, apparently completely at home in the air. Trouble came, however, when she tried to teach them how to steer.
"Go left you stupid broom, no I said left, not right, left." They seemed to think that the brooms would obey their spoken commands. They did use their knees to try and steer but did it all wrong.
The session ended with all four participants covered in bruises. All, because they had slammed into Madam Hooch several times as they tried to land. Madame Hooch took them all up to Madame Pomfrey to get fixed up. Madame Pomfrey clucked over them and shook her head in depreciation of such dangerous games as Quidditch.
Later at Defense Against the Dark Arts they told about what had happened at their first flying lesson and the lesson they had learned. 'Never ever get on one of those things. And I mean never.' They laughed but Ron was extremely disappointed that they would never agree with him on the subject of Quidditch.
Umbridge's class was about boring as it was possible to be. The yamis found it even more boring than Professor Binns's classes but Harry and Ron thought that that was an exaggeration. On their way to Charms they argued about which was worse, Defense Against the Dark Arts the way it was taught by Umbridge or History of Magic the way Binns taught it.
Charms lesson was total chaos. Professor Flitwick was having them all review stunning spells and a lot of people missed. They hit everything but what they were supposed to hit. The Professor finally had to yell at them all in his high squeaky voice to get them all to stop so that he could fix things up. The whole class was assigned a fourteen foot long essay on the dangers of stunning spells as a punishment for their misbehavior.