"I think I've found something," Hermione exclaimed as she and Geoffrey were poring over his older self's research notes. Geoffrey closed the book he was reading and peered over her shoulder.
"There are many kinds of blindness," she read aloud, "and nearly as many ways of inducing it. The Otis Dissolutio potion dissolves the optic nerve completely and destroys its endings so that the vision loss is irreparable. A small proportion (15) of victims has achieved a sort of aural sight however through repeated applications of the Novus Visum charm. In successful cases these patients develop the ability to recognize living creatures based off of their unique aural signatures."
"Creepy," commented Geoffrey. "But I don't think that's what we're looking for. Surely the purpose of blinding Voldemort would be to prevent him from seeing those around him, so he can be surprised and killed. Giving him the ability to recognize aural signatures would defeat the purpose."
"Only 15 of people were able to develop that skill, actually. But since the success probably relates to extreme sensitivity to magic, Voldemort would likely be in that 15. So you're probably right. Let's see what else this says… The Ignotus Stipatores potion forms an opaque cloud over the retinas of the victim, obscuring sight. That sounds a lot like cataracts," theorized Hermione.
"Cataracts?" he repeated.
"They're a muggle vision disorder, usually afflicting the elderly." She continued reading. "This potion is easily countered by the application of Solidan root extract thrice daily for a fortnight. No, that's too simple."
Geoffrey was already reading ahead down the page. "Ooh, look at this – to truly blind an individual one must cloud both his vision and his sense of perception especially if the victim has any skill in leglimency. Many wizards can establish a sort of connection with those who are of importance to them. A combination of potions, occlumency and charm magic can be used to break the link between the victim and those connected with him."
"I think this is it, Geoffrey! It makes sense. We know Voldemort has established those kinds of links and they've caused us loads of problems already," she explained in a rush.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, first off it has been difficult to completely hide our plans from You-Know-Who. He has spies everywhere and they seem to contact him remarkably quickly. And then, there's Harry," she sighed.
"Harry. Harry Potter?" Geoffrey hadn't been at Hogwarts long before he'd discovered that Hermione's quiet friend Harry was actually Harry Potter, the son of one of his own least favourite people. At first he'd been angry, filled with a desire to hate the boy in his father's stead. A stern look from Hermione had convinced him to hide his antipathy. To his surprise, he found that his malignant feelings faded the more time he spent with the Gryffindor boy. Harry was not nearly so obnoxious or arrogant as his father, and Geoffrey had never seen him pick on anybody. He always met Geoffrey's presence with soft enthusiasm; a friend of Hermione's was a friend of Harry's. So gradually Geoffrey found himself remembering Harry's connection to James less frequently. When he did remember, Geoffrey reminded himself that he himself wasn't much like his own father either. "What does Harry have to do with this?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "Perhaps we'd better sit down. I think it's time to explain the rest of the prophecy."
So they retreated to the two nearest desks to talk.
"Remember how I told you that the prophecy says you will help someone else to blind the Dark Lord?"
Geoffrey nodded. "Yes. 'The Boy Who Lived'. I've heard people use that expression around campus but it seemed everyone already knew what it meant so I was afraid to ask."
"Good," Hermione nodded. "Everyone in our own time knows about The Boy Who Lived. He is in about a dozen books and parents tell their children about what happened to him as a bedtime story. It would have looked very suspicious if you'd asked about it, but I'll explain it now. You see, Harry is 'The Boy Who Lived.'"
"I suspected that from the way you segued from Harry to the prophecy. But what does 'The Boy Who Lived' mean? Was he badly injured in the past?"
Hermione took a moment to answer. "Well, when Voldemort was at the height of his power, if he tried to kill a person, that person didn't stand a chance. But when he tried to kill Harry, he couldn't."
Geoffrey laughed. "Little Harry kept the Dark Lord from killing him? He doesn't look strong enough to hold off a hinkypunk."
"Nevertheless, he's a very powerful wizard. And when Voldemort tried to kill him, the spell backfired and nearly killed Voldemort instead. He disappeared for many years, barely alive, but found a way to come back several years ago."
"Wait. Several years? How old was Harry when this happened?" If a child could defeat the most powerful evil wizard to ever live, what could they possibly need Geoffrey for now when that child was nearly grown?
"Um, I don't think I should say exactly, but very young. It was some sort of complicated magic that protected him, but that's not the point," Hermione seemed reluctant to elaborate.
The story sounded ridiculous to Geoffrey. "Why did Voldemort want to kill him in the first place? I mean, wouldn't Voldemort have had more important things to do in his quest to take over the wizarding world than attack small children?"
"There was an earlier prophecy that indicated Harry would be the one to cause his downfall," explained Hermione.
"Hmm, I suppose he would take notice of that. All right, that explains why Harry is involved," acknowledged Geoffrey. "How is this connected to Voldemort's psychic links?"
"I take it you've noticed Harry's scar?" Hermione motioned to her forehead.
Geoffrey nodded. "It's rather hard to miss."
"It's a curse scar, left over from Voldemort's attack. And somehow, Voldemort has maintained a connection to Harry through that scar ever since. Sometimes it's passive, and Harry might inadvertently 'see' what the Dark Lord is doing. But Voldemort also uses the connection to snoop in Harry's mind, and even worse, to put visions there that aren't even real."
"How dreadful!" The thoughts in Geoffrey's mind were bad enough without having some evil wizard planting more in there. "Hasn't anyone taught Harry how to keep him out?"
"Well, there was an attempt," replied Hermione cautiously, "but it was largely unsuccessful."
Geoffrey raised his eyebrows in question.
Hermione continued. "Harry spent several months last year learning occlumency, but it didn't help. Voldemort was still able to plant a vision in Harry's mind that eventually led to s-someone's death."
"Really? Who died?"
"I really can't say more, Geoffrey," replied Hermione, biting her lip.
"Hmph." Geoffrey hated it when information was withheld, even when he logically understood the need for it. "Well then, let's get back to the prophecy. I'm supposed to help Harry blind the Dark Lord. From what we've just read it occurs to me that what we really need to do is break the link between Harry and Voldemort. What doesn't make sense is why it has to be me? Surely I'm not the only person in this time that knows anything about occlumency?"
"Of course not, but the prophecy says – wait, how much do you know about occlumency? It's not exactly covered in the Hogwarts curriculum," Hermione eyed him curiously.
Geoffrey shrugged, not wanting to sound conceited. "I'm no expert, certainly, but I've dabbled in it a bit."
"Dabbled?"
"Let's just say I've had the need to hide my thoughts from certain people at various times." Geoffrey did not want to discuss his father with Hermione. He hoped she'd take the hint.
She didn't. "But how did you learn? It's not like you can learn it from a book. I should know, I've tried!"
"Look, Hermione, I don't really want to get into this. Please, just accept that I had the need to hide my thoughts and so I developed the ability to do it."
"All right, you don't have to tell me why you needed to learn occlumency but please tell me how you accomplished it. It might help us teach Harry, after all." Hermione's eyes pleaded with him.
Geoffrey felt his resolve weakening. He sighed. "I didn't know what it was when I first did it. I was just squeezing my eyes shut as hard as I could, wishing that if I couldn't see out, no one would be able to see in. And I felt a wall go up, that's the only way I can describe it. Over time, the wall got stronger. It wasn't til I came to Hogwarts that I even heard about 'occlumency' per se."
"And now?"
Geoffrey shrugged again. "At school I haven't had any reason to use it. There's no one at Hogwarts trying to batter their way into my mind. So I'm a bit out of practice, but 'm sure I could still do it if I had to."
"This makes a lot of sense," said Hermione, nodding. "Certainly there are people in our time who are accomplished occlumens, but none of them are here at Hogwarts. Maybe Professor Dumbledore would have found it too suspicious to bring in someone from the outside specially to teach Harry, so someone unsuspicious needed to do it. I just hope the attempt to teach him will be more successful this time."
"I don't know why it would be. He might not have the talent for it, if he hasn't developed it on his own out of necessity. Surely he needs it as much as I did, from what you've described." Geoffrey liked the thought that perhaps his talent was special and rare. The idea that Harry, the powerful boy wizard who vanquished Voldemort as a little kid might not be able to do something that was now almost second nature to Geoffrey made him feel a little less insignificant.
Hermione didn't look convinced. "I doubt that is the problem. I suspect it has more to do with who was teaching him than the subject matter. You see, he and Harry didn't get on. So Harry was a bit resistive to his instruction."
"I see." This made sense to Geoffrey, even if he preferred his own explanation. "Yes, it could be problematic trying to teach someone to protect their mind if the student doesn't really want to cooperate. There isn't enough fear there to trigger the instinctive reaction, as if the mind were really being invaded, so the attempt could be counterproductive. So perhaps he would do better with me. Not that I know the first thing about teaching, of course."
"Nonsense. I'm sure you could do it if you set your mind to it." Hermione pooh-poohed this suggestion, and then grinned. "You're forgetting that you were my teacher for over five years, Geoffrey. I know you can teach."
Geoffrey grimaced internally at the reminder of his fate. "Well, I haven't done that yet, so you'll just have to coach me through it. You can teach me how I taught." Yes, that could be very convenient.
"Certainly." Hermione's expression looked just a little too satisfied, as if she were planning something. "I'm sure I can help you learn to be an excellent teacher."
"Good. Now that that's settled, can we get out of these dungeons for awhile? We can go back to meeting in the Charms classroom while you teach me how to teach." The dungeons were dank and unpleasant, and reminded him too much of the fate he'd vowed to avoid.
"All right," Hermione laughed. "Oh, we should probably send a message to the headmaster to ask for a meeting."
"Why would we want to do that?" The less Geoffrey had to deal with Dumbledore, the better.
"Why? Because he's in charge, that's why! And we have to let him know if we're going to teach Harry occlumency so he can plan, or whatever it is he does."
"I think we should wait to contact him until I'm ready to actually start teaching him. Otherwise he'll put on too much pressure." Geoffrey acknowledged to himself this excuse was rather weak, but he really did not want to talk to the headmaster before he had to.
"Oh, all right," conceded Hermione with a frown. "But we have to start right away then."
"That would be acceptable." That would be perfect.
"Always predicate your criticism with a bit of praise, Geoffrey. That way your student will be receptive to the critique, instead of being defensive. For example, 'Yes, Geoffrey, you've really got the clearing of the mind down well. That's very good. The blocking though still needs a bit of work. Why don't we try that again?" beamed Hermione. "See, didn't that make you want to do better?"
"Always predicate your criticism with a bit of praise, Geoffrey. That way your student will be receptive to the critique, instead of being defensive. For example, 'Yes, Geoffrey, you've really got the clearing of the mind down well. That's very good. The blocking though still needs a bit of work. Why don't we try that again?" beamed Hermione. "See, didn't that make you to do better?"Even though it was just part of the demonstration, Geoffrey felt himself melt a little every time Hermione smiled at him. He almost felt like she really was praising him, like she did when he followed her instructions properly. He wasn't sure he would be able to effectively utilize her method of teaching in a real situation because it was not part of his nature to say something nice when it wasn't warranted. He had to admit that it felt good being on the receiving end of such praise though.
Geoffrey knew he was in grave danger of falling hard for Hermione. Logic told him that he would have to go back to his own time eventually, and that forming an emotional attachment here was foolhardy. Regardless, he had never enjoyed anyone's company the way he did hers and since he had to work with her closely anyway, he decided he might as well make the most of it and deal with the emotional consequences later. He wanted her to like him in a way no one else ever had. Even though he'd have to leave, he wanted the memory to cherish forever.
She'd been instructing him for over a week on the fine art of teaching while simultaneously trying to learn as much about occlumency from him as possible. Geoffrey was tempted to pretend he was learning slower than he actually was just to drag out their sessions as long as he could, but he dismissed the idea. Hermione valued intelligence, and thus it would not do to appear a dunderhead.
"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Geoffrey. "How about this, 'Well done, Hermione, you've beaten the NEWT score records in eleven subjects! That's quite an accomplishment! But if you put in just a little bit more effort, I think you can beat a twelfth record!'"
Hermione laughed, giving him a little shove. "You're teasing me!"
"Just a little," acknowledged Geoffrey. "But I really do think you're clever. I wish I was as smart as you are." Flattery worked before, let's see if it works again.
"But you are, Geoffrey! You're very good at arithmancy, and you know that you're going to grow up to be one of the top Potions masters in Britain. You have to be clever to accomplish that." Hermione looked surprised at the suggestion that Geoffrey was anything other than brilliant.
Geoffrey sighed woefully. "I thought about that after you told me, but I don't understand how that's going to happen. I'm really not all that good at potions. I usually get 'A's in Potions, although I did manage an occasional 'E'." Reverse those grades and you'd be nearer the truth. But even then, 'E's don't make a Potions master.
"Really? I'm surprised by that. Hmm," Hermione looked like she was thinking. "I could help you with Potions, if you'd like. You understood the concept of chemistry pretty easily, so I'd wager with just a little bit of extra coaching you'd do well in no time."
I was hoping you'd say that. "You think so? But no, it would be too much of an imposition." Geoffrey had observed in his years at Hogwarts that the best way to convince a Gryffindor to act is to imply that it would be too much trouble for them to do so. They had an inherent tendency to stick their neck out which would suit him very well in this case.
"No, it's not an imposition at all! In fact, it may be absolutely necessary," argued Hermione.
"What do you mean?" Geoffrey was puzzled.
Hermione grinned. "Well, how are you going to grow up to be a brilliant Potions master if you barely scrape by in Potions class? Perhaps the reason you become a Potions master in the first place is that you got some extra tutoring while in the future and realised you had a knack for the subject after all?"
Geoffrey thought about that for a moment. "That would be extremely ironic."
"Yes, the paradoxes of time-turning are enough to drive anyone crazy," laughed Hermione. "Do you want to start tonight?"
If Geoffrey recalled correctly, and he was pretty certain that he did, Hermione was supposed to watch Ron's Quidditch practice tonight. After a half-second's consideration he decided not to remind her of this fact. "If you're certain it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would like that."
"Splendid. I'll see you in the library after supper." Hermione picked up her knapsack and headed for the door. She turned back right before opening it. "Oh, by the way, I sent a message to the headmaster on my transfiguration homework yesterday. He'll be joining us at four o'clock tomorrow."
I guess the party's over, thought Geoffrey as he gathered his own belongings and headed back to his room. Lord, how he hated that old man.
A/N: I'm bound and determined to finish this well before HBP comes out, so updates should be coming more frequently from now on. Feel free to nag if they don't.