Chapter Sixteen – Teach your children well
"Yes, we have met Albus," Mr. Smith replied. "I met Harry at the beginning of this summer. It's actually what made me decide to get involved in the world's affairs again."
Dumbledore was stunned. How was it possible that Smith had met Harry without his knowledge? Any use of magic around Harry was immediately registered by one of his many devices in his study, and outside of those events that Albus already knew of, there was no unexplained magic. Nothing.
"May I enquire how this happened?" Dumbledore asked, frustration edging into his voice. In fact, Dumbledore was furious and both Harry and Mr. Smith seemed to understand that. Harry was concerned, but he could sense that Mr. Smith was amused.
"Professor, I didn't know he was a wizard, honest. I thought he was in charge of the park where I worked this summer. We cleaned it up, and well, we talked. Not about anything we weren't supposed to, honest. But he befriended me when I couldn't bear to talk with anyone who already knew me. And he also helped me buy my new clothing. He took me shopping and let me just be myself."
"I didn't tell him I was a wizard, Albus. You know how I feel about that. That hasn't changed. But I've kept track of things and I knew you'd make a mess of things with your misguided approaches. The boy just needed a friend, and you locked him away with those stupid relatives of his. I had to take some action-- even I know the world is at risk. And up too much has already been taken from me to sit idly by when I can be of help."
Dumbledore slowly looked back and forth between the two of them, not entirely sure what to think. He was accustomed to knowing every detail, being in full command of the facts. This was a surprise, and he hoped there would be no negative repercussions.
"Harry, if you will, Zebediah and I need to talk privately. Perhaps you could inform your friends of what has transpired?" A brief smile appeared on Dumbledore's grim face. "They will have discovered, no doubt, that their remarkable tool stopped working the moment you opened that door."
With a very faint twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore gestured sharply to Mr. Smith and together they walked towards the kitchen. Harry felt, somehow, the power of Dumbledore's magic as kitchen was sealed off from physical or magical eavesdropping. Clearly Dumbledore was upset, and Harry was determined to find out why. Both because it was useful to know which buttons actually worked against the powerful wizard, and so Harry could choose whether to press them in the future.
Grinning to himself, he turned to the stairs and ran up to the first landing. As Dumbledore had predicted, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting there heatedly whispering to each other about why the extendable ears were not working. None of them had heard Harry's mad dash up the stairs, so were startled when he appeared before them.
"Dumbledore blocked them," Harry said quietly, inserting himself seamlessly into the conversation. "He didn't want you to hear the conversation I was going to have with my new tutor on Occlumency, but things didn't go according to Dumbledore's plans."
"What does that mean," asked Hermione suspiciously.
"Well," said Harry. "Remember that Mr. Smith I told you about? The guy at the park and who helped me buy my clothes?"
When all three nodded in affirmation Harry continued.
"Well, apparently he's a wizard."
"Bloody hell," whispered Ron in amazement. "Did Dumbledore know?"
"Ronald, language," Hermione snapped in a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at his girlfriend and grinned at Harry.
"No, Dumbledore was stunned when I knew Mr. Smith," said Harry. "It was kind of odd. Dumbledore is usually entirely in control and here he was completely bewildered. And very upset."
"Well of course he was upset," Hermione sighed. Seeing the confused looks on the faces of Hand Ron, she continued. "Harry, he wants to protect you as much as possible. He's still concerned about all of the events of last year, and feels like he needs to know what is going on to protect you. The fact that some unknown wizard was able to spend days or weeks with you, without his knowledge, probably terrified him. If a good wizard could have done that, why couldn't an unknown Deatheater?"
Harry sighed at Hermione's usual brilliant insight. Of course Dumbledore would be worried that this mysterious master at Occlumency would already be known to Harry. As an occlumens, Mr. Smith would be able to hide anything from Dumbledore, and could potentially be a threat. While Harry doubted very much that Mr. Smith presented any form of a threat to himself or the Order, it did put a new light on Dumbledore's reaction now that he thought about it.
Then again, there seemed to be something almost personal about Dumbledore's reaction to Mr. Smith. They obviously knew each other, and had a history of some form. Harry was very curious to find out what that was all about, and he wanted to know why Mr. Smith felt odd about being a wizard.
Ginny snapped him out of his reverie by stomping on his foot, trying to get his attention.
"Hello? Earth to Harry? Are you in there?" she asked with a grin. "Care to inform us about what you thoughts are, or do we have to guess?"
"No, erm, it's just, there's a lot to question, as always, and I really want to find out more about Mr. Smith. He seemed to be hesitant about helping, something about rejoining the world. Why did he leave? Who is this guy?"
"It's easy to figure out, Harry," said Hermione. "All we have to do is..."
"Go to the library!" said Harry and Ron in unison, finishing Hermione's sentence for her with matching grins.
"I knew I'd be a good influence on you," she smiled and marched up the stairs to the room full of books that Sirius had left her.
As the four of them started rummaging through the books, it fell upon Hermione to decide the best plan of action. She separated them into two groups, her and Ron, Harry and Ginny. The groups separated and started looking for books that described the battles against Grindelwald. When Harry and Ron expressed confusion about that, she patiently explained that since Dumbledore and Smith knew each other, and both were seemingly ancient wizards, this was the best place to start. Plus, Hermione reminded them that she had painstakingly reviewed lists of all members of the Order from the first rise of Voldemort and knew that Mr. Smith had never been in the Order. So he had to come from previous war.
Their research plan decided, the two pairs split the library in half trying to find anything that would help them. Since this was not the Hogwarts library, there was no obvious cataloguing system. Instead the library seemed to be sorted in different ways, reflecting the numerous owners of the house over the centuries. Hermione was growing more and more frustrated at her inability to figure out where appropriate books would be located. She was quietly gathering a massive pile of books in the center of the room, all the while muttering to herself about the need to impose some order on the library. Meanwhile, Ron was randomly picking books off her pile and flipping through the pages to see if he saw Mr. Smith's name.
Harry and Ginny were not having any greater success, though their pattern of researching was perhaps better than Ron's. Ginny, delighted at the opportunity to use magic outside of school, quietly cast several cleaning charms to clear off the dust from the spines of the books. Harry quietly scanned each shelf, looking for books that might have some benefit. While he picked fewer books to review more carefully than Hermione, he too had built up quite a large pile of books in the center of the room.
It took them over two hours just to rifle through all of the books. They finally all sat down on the floor and started picking out books to read through, hoping for any clue as to who Mr. Smith really was. After another hour of leafing through books had passed, Ginny excitedly jumped up and thrust the book in her hands into Harry's face.
"Harry, look, it's him!"
As Harry focused on the book in front of him he saw a scowling photo of Mr. Smith looking ominously through the pages up at Harry. He was much younger in this photo and the photo seemed to have been taken from a battlefield from the war with Grindelwald, after an apparent victory against Grindelwald's forces.
Excitedly, Harry quickly looked at the cover of the book and his jaw dropped open in surprise. This was not a book Ginny should have been reading. He wasn't even sure if he should be reading it.
"Ginny, that's not a good book to read," whispered Harry in awe. "How do you know it wasn't booby-trapped?"
Ginny rolled her eyes and gave Harry a sarcastic look. Nodding her head at Hermione, Ginny smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
"Harry, Si- that is, erm, last summer we cleared out the library of dangerous books when we learned that Hermione was going to stay here. Everyone was worried that she'd start reading everything as soon as she found this place. Remus and," she sighed and continued in a small voice, "Sirius, well, they put all the dangerous books in Sirius' study. Hermione won't be able to get at them until she learns the proper spells, which should be next year."
"Oh," Harry said quietly, small tears suddenly appearing in his eyes at the thought of Sirius. Shaking his head at the emotion, he turned his head to look out the window. Hermione, sensing his distress, took the book out of his hands and started reading through the description of Mr. Smith.
"It says here that Mr. Smith," she said, summarizing what she was reading, "was one of Dumbledore's closest friends throughout the war with Grindelwald, until near the end. Mr. Smith's wife was taken captive by Grindelwald's followers and she was tortured to death.
"This book is sick!" she exclaimed. "It describes exactly how the poor woman was tortured, and even suggests other methods that could have been used. Who would write this stuff?"
"The bastard who killed my wife."
All heads turned towards the library door where Mr. Smith was standing. He was no longer dressed in muggle clothes and was dressed as any other wizard would have been dressed. His dark blue robes had the softness of age, but seemed to be in good condition. In his hand he held his wand, surprising Harry who was struggling with the concept of Mr. Smith as a wizard.
Zebediah crossed the room in a few quick strides and took the book out of Hermione's hands. Firmly closing it, he placed it back on a shelf and drew himself a chair in midair. A large firm leather chair plunked down onto the floor and he sat down, grasping the book in his hands.
"The Foul Foes of Grindelwald by Jehan Vorster. As you can tell it was not an adulatory book. It did not praise those of us that worked for the demise of that foul creature. No, Vorster was a chief lieutenant of Grindelwald, and he wrote this book as a way of advising future Dark wizards on how to avoid his fate. He wrote it during his trial, which took months and months after Albus killed Grindelwald. Only a few dozen copies were ever made, printing was halted when the book was discovered, but enough of the wrong families got their own copies. This is a foul and nasty book, by a dark and evil man."
Mr. Smith kept clenching his hands, his fingers turning white from the strain and he lapsed into a silence that Harry found disturbing. He could relate to the pain that he heard in Mr. Smith's voice, and he steeled himself at the temptation offered there, to dive back in to his own grief. Harry looked at his friends, unsure of what to say, where to start. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all glanced helplessly back at Harry and shrugged their shoulders. Harry decided to wait for Mr. Smith to keep talking and patiently waited as the minutes ticked by. Eventually Mr. Smith sighed and looked up at the four of them.
"But, that's decades past and we have things to do. I came back for a particular reason, young Harry, and I intend to see it completed so I can return to my quiet life. You have much to learn, and apparently I'm the only one that is safe enough to teach you what you need to know."
Mr. Smith's eyes flashed at his last comment, and Harry could tell that he was upset. Harry was not certain about the reasoning behind Mr. Smith's distress, but he was determined to find out.
"How exactly are you going to teach Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes flashing with protective fire. "He's had a particularly bad summer and the last thing he needs is more stress."
"Hermione, relax, it's okay, he's a good guy. I trust him," Harry smiled at her and turned to look at Mr. Smith. "He's going to teach me Occlumency. I need to shield that bastard from my mind, and maybe, just maybe, I'll learn enough to probe into his. Get some advantages out of this stupid scar."
Mr. Smith smiled grimly at Harry's determined expression and nodded his head in confirmation. "Exactly. I intend to have you adequately trained within a week. Which means constant work and an enormous amount of dedication. But I think you are up to the challenge."
Mr. Smith stood and made his chair vanish. Beckoning Harry with a finger, the two of them left the library and headed to one of the many empty rooms in the house. Harry realized he had never been in this room and was surprised to see that it was completely empty. The walls were a bare plain white, the floor uncovered, revealing dark wooden plats, and there was no furniture present. This was bound to be uncomfortable.
Grinning at the forlorn look on Harry's face, Mr. Smith quickly muttered a few spells and the room immediately started to take on a more comfortable aspect. A thick rug appeared and unrolled itself across the middle of the room, followed by two large leather chairs similar to the one he had used in the library, and two small tables next to the chairs. A splash of color appeared on one wall and slowly spread around all the walls, giving them a faint blue color that warmed the room considerably. Finally two lamps appeared near the chairs, giving off a soft glow.
Plopping down into one chair, Mr. Smith made himself comfortable. He removed his shoes, massaged his temple, and gestured to Harry to take the other chair. Placing his wand on the table near him, Mr. Smith slowly started stretching his arms and back in a pattern that Harry could tell was borne of decades of practice. Harry started mimicking those movements, to Mr. Smith's obvious pleasure, and slowly felt the tension in his neck and shoulders dissipate. Harry was surprised by how tense he was, and as he continued stretching, he realized that he was accustomed to the pressure in his neck. With a small grin he shook his head at the absurdity of that realization and reminded himself to take better care of his body's needs in the future.
After several minutes of stretching, Mr. Smith finally stopped and picked up his wand again. At a slight gesture, Harry did the same.
"Now Harry, Albus has informed me of your previous training in this area. Let's see what you've learned. I want you to prepare for me to invade your mind, try to prevent it. Ready?"
Harry nodded and tried to clear his mind, as Professor Snape had instructed him in the past. Dimly he heard Mr. Smith cast a spell. Memories flooded through Harry's mind, overwhelming his attempt to block the intrusion, and he found himself reliving the last attack he had suffered at his Aunt and Uncle's house. He started shouting and realized that this was in his mind. Gathering his strength, he pushed back against the invasion and forced Mr. Smith from his mind.
Snapping back to reality, he found himself sprawled on the floor, having fallen from the chair, and he was sweating profusely. Grimly, Mr. Smith pulled him up and offered him a drink from a pitcher that he must have conjured.
"Harry, that was absolutely unacceptable. I don't understand what you were trying to do at all."
"I was just doing what I was told, trying to clear my mind. But that's hard, I'm sorry."
Mr. Smith stared at Harry in disbelief. He didn't say anything to Harry, obviously trying to control his temper.
"You were doing what?" he asked, biting each word off as he spoke them, his fists clenching and unclenching in anger.
"Erm, I was trying to clear my mind, that's what Snape told me to do," Harry said defensively. He was not pleased that this first attempt went so badly, and the fact that Mr. Smith was obviously upset embarrassed Harry. Smith knew that Harry had been having a particularly bad summer. Didn't Smith know that Harry's defenses were probably weaker than normal? Shaking with angry frustration, Harry slumped down into the chair.
"Harry," Mr. Smith started, obviously trying to control his temper. "Do you mean to tell me that the only technique you have learned is to clear your mind? Nothing else?"
"Yes," Harry replied defensively. "That's all Snape taught me. I was to clear my mind and expel any intrusions. He also wanted me to clear my mind every night, but that was hard to do."
"ALBUS!" Mr. Smith roared angrily, his voice magically amplified so that it seemed to shake the entire house. "GET UP HERE NOW!"
Moments passed by as Harry stared uncomprehendingly at Mr. Smith. Was he angry with Harry? The rage emanating from Mr. Smith was palpable and Harry was becoming frustrated with the lack of explanation for his anger. When Dumbledore opened the door and walked in, he had obviously regained his composure from earlier. Glancing between the two occupants of the room, Dumbledore looked at Mr. Smith calmly.
"You called?"
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WAS THAT IDIOT DOING TO HARRY?" Mr. Smith roared.
"I'm not sure I understand," Dumbledore replied calmly, his eyes reflecting his confusion. "Which individual are we talking about?"
"SNAPE! He hasn't taught Harry the first thing about Occlumency, Snape started him off at the highest level and expected him to survive."
"I don't follow," Dumbledore said, his voice becoming strained with concern.
Mr. Smith sat down in his chair with a flourish and quickly conjured a chair for Dumbledore. It did not appear as comfortable as the ones he had conjured for himself or Harry, but Dumbledore sat down without any apparent fuss.
"Snape has had Harry trying to clear his mind, a skill that takes years to fully master. It's like being thrown head first into a dragon's mouth with a tissue as protection. Harry doesn't know the first thing about Occlumency, and he has only survived this long due to the natural strength of his mind."
Dumbledore's eyes flashed fire and he turned his gaze to Harry.
"I see," he said, his voice clipped with tight control. "I had hoped that the situation was not as bad as that, but I see my error in hoping that Severus and Harry would get along has hurt many of us."
He turned to look at Mr. Smith, an apology in his eyes. "I trust that you will be able to remedy the situation? Of course, once term starts Harry and I will be able to continue your lessons together. If that is acceptable to you both."
Mr. Smith curled his lips at Dumbledore's implied apology and shook his head with a sigh. "I have much more to do than I thought, but I believe that Harry is up to the task. He knows he doesn't have a choice, so he'll survive, I'm sure."
"Would the two of you mind explaining to me what in blazes you are talking about? I don't have a clue what you are saying and I'm sitting right here."
"I apologize Harry," said Dumbledore. "But Mr. Smith will explain. I guarantee you that he is trustworthy, and he will help you immensely. As I have said repeatedly since the end of term, I made grave mistakes, and I intend to rectify them. However, I must leave, Arthur needs me at the Ministry and I am already late."
As Dumbledore swept from the room, Mr. Smith took a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Harry, it's like this," he explained. "Occlumency is a complicated and confusing art. What Snape asked you to do was start at the end, rather than the beginning. There are techniques and skills that can be used to train your mind so that you can do as he asked and clear your mind. But you are young and inexperienced in controlling your emotions or thoughts. I believe that you recognize the need for greater control over your temper, your feelings?"
Satisfied at Harry's nodding head, Mr. Smith continued.
"Well, you can't start at the point of clearing your mind. No one can. So let's start from the beginning. I want you to search your memory and think of something personal about which you know every detail. Something like a favorite stuffed animal, a toy, something that is small and simple to think about. Now, close your eyes and search your memory."
Harry closed his eyes and let various objects float through his mind. He saw glimpses of things from Hogwarts: his trunk, his wand, his father's invisibility cloak, his broom. He kept sorting through items, trying to find something that would work. He saw Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. He smiled and recalled the instruction to think of something small, Hagrid certainly didn't fit that description. He needed to think of something smaller. He saw Ginny, smiling at him on his birthday. He saw Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, lying crumpled on the ground. He saw Ginny pulling out her wand at the Ministry. His eyes popped open and he was blushing furiously, and he didn't understand why his mind was focusing on Ginny.
Mr. Smith noticed the blush and smiled. "Harry, I should have told you it cannot be a person, no matter how special they may be to you. It must be a thing. Now, please choose some thing, an object."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes again. Concentrating, he quickly snapped his eyes open again and looked across to Mr. Smith.
"I have it," Harry said in a determined voice.
"Excellent. Now, I want you to focus on your object, think about its every detail. When I try to penetrate your mind I want you to focus hard on that object. If I manage to push through, I want you to expel me again as before, but I want you to focus on that object and keeping me out. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded and focused. He bent his mind to focusing clearly on the one object he knew better than anything, the Snitch. He focused on the flapping wings, the tiny engraving on the metallic sphere, and the glint of light on its golden surface. He concentrated on the little sphere with intensity. Suddenly a sharp force shoved at him and the Snitch was gone. Harry found himself back at the Dursley's, pouring tea for Aunt Marge. As she glowered at him with disgust, Harry remembered that he was at Grimmauld Place. Twisting his head he pushed back against the force that he could feel pressing down on him.
"Get out!" he shouted. "Get out of my mind."
With a soft whoosh, Harry's concentration returned and he was back in the room with Mr. Smith. Harry was sweating and panting heavily. Mr. Smith was gently rubbing his wand hand, looking over at Harry.
"Well, that was a good first step, I suppose, but you'll have to do better. You need to focus your mind on the Snitch. I gather that's what you are choosing to focus on?"
Harry nodded his head in affirmation.
"Fine. But you have to completely concentrate. Focus all your thoughts on the Snitch. When you feel any pressure, concentrate. Keep me from pushing in. Okay? Let's try again."
Harry nodded and focused again. He focused on the Snitch. He pushed his mind to think solely about the Snitch and watched the wings fluttering wildly as the Snitch hovered in front of him. He felt a push in his mind and felt a vague sensation pushing against the edges of his concentration, but Harry ignored it. He was intent on the Snitch. The fluttering became more intense and Harry focused on the Snitch, bending his mind to the tiny golden sphere. Then he felt a hard shove, and Harry gasped in pain and watched as the Snitch flittered away. It was gone and he couldn't see it any more. Suddenly Harry was back in the Shrieking Shack with Wormtail, Remus, and Sirius. He was saving the wretched little rat's life. The he was in the Gryffindor common room, talking with Sirius through the fireplace. He was at Grimmauld place, for Christmas, and Sirius was dancing around singing wildly off key. Then Harry found himself back in the Ministry, in that awful room where the Veil stood. He saw Sirius falling, falling towards the veil. Harry let out a primal scream of agony.
"This isn't real. GET OUT OF MY MIND!" he bellowed. With a loud whooshing sensation he found himself lying on the ground next to his chair. Wearily he looked up and was shocked when he couldn't see Mr. Smith anywhere nearby. Readjusting his glasses, Harry looked around the room and saw Mr. Smith lying in a corner, breathing heavily.
Harry rushed over to the older man, a look of concern on his face. "Mr. Smith? Are you okay?"
Mr. Smith let out a soft groan, and then started chuckling.
"Fantastic Harry, absolutely fantastic! That was much better. It took me a full minute to penetrate your mind. And you pushed me out quite effectively, all things considered. We'll have to work on that. But this was excellent for a first real try. Dumbledore was quite correct in his assessment. You are a very gifted student."
Harry blushed at the compliment, but looked at Mr. Smith with confusion. "What do you mean? It couldn't have been more than a few seconds."
"No Harry, you held me off for a good bit for a first try. Now I'll admit I was probably not as rough with you as Voldemort would be, but we'll continue working to get you there. Eventually we'll have you move from just focusing on the Snitch to other things and ultimately to nothing. And we also need to improve your stamina so you can block for a longer time. But let's try again, all right?"
Several hours later an exhausted Harry slowly made his way into the kitchen for dinner. Mr. Smith had quietly taken his leave, professing a desire to be alone for the evening in preparation for the next day's training. He had ordered Harry to focus on the Snitch when he wasn't occupied with other things, but not to worry himself over it. And when Harry was about to go to sleep, Mr. Smith wanted Harry to concentrate on his Snitch as hard as he could.
Harry, looking worn out and emotionally exhausted, paused in the doorway to take in the usual chaos of meal time with the Weasley family. Fred and George were busy detailing their day at the shop to Mrs. Weasley, explaining eagerly that they had received a new batch of orders from students at schools throughout the country and they were going to expand their staff again to create all of the products they needed. Ron and Hermione were playfully setting the table, using magic now that they were allowed, and Ginny was busy stirring some of the pots on the stove that Mrs. Weasley had prepared for the meal.
Hermione was the first to notice Harry and she immediately raced toward him, grasping him in a big hug.
"How'd everything go? Was it better this time? How was Mr. Smith? You look exhausted, are you tired?"
"Lay off him Hermione," Ron interrupted. "He's probably knackered and can't answer all those questions at once. Harry, take a seat here and relax, please."
Harry grinned at Ron and Hermione's concern. It was good to have friends like these two, who would do anything for him if he needed it. Nodding his head at Ron, he sank down into a chair and looked up at Hermione.
"It was exhausting, difficult, and emotionally nerve-wracking, but it went well," he smiled. "Mr. Smith has a much better teaching style than that smelly git, and I think I learned a lot today. Plus, it appears Snape wasn't teaching me the right way all along, Mr. Smith was quite put out by that."
"I imagine so," Hermione said with a severe frown. "If it wasn't the right way to teach you, well, that explains why you didn't make as much progress as Professor Dumbledore hoped. But I wonder what Professor Snape was thinking? Why didn't he train you properly?"
"Because he's a slimy, evil git and he's not trustworthy," Ron said savagely. "He's probably trying to keep in the good graces of V-Voldemort, so he didn't train Harry the right way."
Hermione frowned at Ron and shook her head. She wasn't entirely prepared to doubt Professor Snape's loyalty to Professor Dumbledore, or the Order. She couldn't explain why, but Hermione knew that if Dumbledore trusted Snape, there was a solid and legitimate reason. Privately though Hermione was starting to worry. There was so much that was unexplained, and Professor Snape had not helped himself with his refusal to teach Harry properly. Hopefully he had a good explanation, one that would even satisfy Harry, hard as that may be to do at this point.
Mrs. Weasley quickly ushered everyone to the table and began serving generous portions of food, piling extra helpings on Harry's plate with a motherly smile.
"You need to eat up dear, you're nothing but skin and bones and you need your energy. I also fully expect you to get a good night's rest for once. Those sessions with Mr. Smith will be very draining on you and you need your rest. That's an order."
Harry smiled weakly at Mrs. Weasley and started digging through his plate. Once he started eating he was surprised to find that he did indeed have a healthy appetite and managed to finish his plate almost as quickly as Ron. Unlike Ron, however, Harry did not ask for a second plate as he was decidedly full.
Mrs. Weasley asked Fred and George to clear the table while she served dessert and it was while she was passing around the pudding that Mr. Weasley finally came home.
"Arthur, dear, you look knackered. Please, sit down and have a plate. I'll get you a nice cold butterbeer. Ronald, please make room for your father, I'm sure he's had a hard day."
Ron quickly slid down, squeezing in closer to Hermione, causing her to blush. But it also had the effect of making plenty of room for Mr. Weasley to slump into his seat. He looked over at Harry, gave him a friendly nod and winked in Mrs. Weasley's direction.
"It's nice to be taken care of every now and then, isn't it? If I wasn't truthfully so tired I'd be tempted to exaggerate just to give her the pleasure of taking care of me."
Harry smiled at Mr. Weasley's conspiratorial whisper and noticed that Ginny and Hermione were also grinning at him. Mrs. Weasley returned with a plate overflowing with food and an ice cold butterbeer which she popped open with a flick of her wand.
Just then Harry felt himself become overwhelmed with tiredness and let out a massive yawn. Mrs. Weasley patted his head wistfully and pulled him into a big hug.
"Time for bed, young man. Now march upstairs and go to sleep, scoot!" she ordered.
Harry was too tired to argue and nodded his head sleepily. As he walked up the stairs saying a quiet good night to his friends he did as he was ordered and started thinking about the Snitch.
The next several days were lost in a blur for Harry. He spent the vast majority of each day secluded in a room with Mr. Smith. They spent a lot of time going over various meditation techniques and relaxation methods. They also spent a lot of time in mental battle. Every day Mr. Smith would spend hour after hour forcing his way into Harry's mind, breaking down his mental barriers while Harry struggled to block Mr. Smith from entering, or to force him out quickly if Mr. Smith was successful.
To Harry's surprise, but not Mr. Smith's, Harry made a great deal of progress in a short period of time. Harry was determined to master this skill and free his dreams from becoming nightmares every night. Harry also wanted to prevent Voldemort from tricking him again, and this was the only way to do that. He pushed himself incredibly hard, even to the point where Mr. Smith was starting to worry about the strain. But Harry pressed on. He had to overcome this weakness and secure his mind from Voldemort's attacks. The constant repetition of the spells and attacks seemed to be having an exercising effect, and Harry's abilities grew every day. He was eventually able to keep Mr. Smith out of his mind for several minutes while they battled for control, and the force with which Harry pushed Mr. Smith out when he did break through was quite impressive indeed.
However, it was amazingly draining and Harry collapsed into bed every night, struggling with the need to do his mental exercises and focus his mind. As Harry drifted off to sleep, concentrating on the Snitch, he smiled in pleasure at the progress he had made.
The wind was blowing fiercely as Harry searched for the Snitch out on the Quidditch field. He had been focusing on it, came close to getting it, but it slipped through his fingertips and zipped away. Frantically searching around, Harry couldn't seem to locate it. Oddly, he realized that he was alone on the Quidditch field. As he continued to look for the Snitch, he felt an ominous sense of foreboding crawl over him. Off in the distance he thought he saw a dark shape on the ground, but it was too far away for him to make out. The gray skies whirled in preparation for a powerful storm, and a cold and biting rain started falling from the sky. Harry pulled out his wand to cast an impervious charm on his glasses and his wand didn't work. That was when Harry realized something was wrong.
As the skies started whirling even faster, Harry realized that he was in a dream, but he wasn't in control of his dream, again. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and focused on the Snitch. He painstakingly created a Snitch in his mind, focusing on the gold sphere with all his might. As he focused he could hear the wind blowing with greater force and the rain started pelting him even harder. Bending his mind to focus on the Snitch, he started pushing out with his concentration, shoving against the wind and the rain. Suddenly Harry felt a tremendous force pushing against his mind, trying to penetrate beyond his defenses. Harry tensed his shoulders again and pushed with all his might. He felt the hard, cold presence of Voldemort's cruel mind. Voldemort was raging in inchoate fury at Harry's resistance. Pushing again with all his might, Harry let out a powerful roar.
"GET OUT OF MY MIND!"
Harry somehow heard Voldemort roaring in pain and howling with fury. The noise quickly faded in the distance and Harry bolted upright, finding himself awake in his room at Grimmauld Place, sweating profusely. Ron was awake and looking over at him with concern wand in hand. He had obviously been woken up by Harry's shouting.
"You okay, mate?" he asked with concern.
"I, I think so," replied Harry somewhat shakily but with growing enthusiasm. "I think I pushed him out Ron, I think I did it before he was able to do anything or make me see anything!"
Crowing with joy Harry jumped up on his bed and started jumping around. He hopped over to Ron's bed and started jumping around, jostling Ron around the bed as he scrambled to get out of Harry's way. The door flung open with a tired looking Mrs. Weasley glaring at them, her wand in her hand held firmly in preparation for an attack.
"What is going on in here?" Mrs. Weasley sternly demanded.
"Mum, we were just celebrating. Harry managed to force V-Voldemort out of his mind, and his training seems to have helped."
"Oh," Mrs. Weasley replied, her eyes glistening and her stern frown softening into a smile. "Well, then, that's excellent. But let's carry on in the morning, we all need our sleep."
"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied, still grinning. "We'll go to bed now. Good night."
"Good night boys. Sleep well."
The next morning Harry bounded down the stairs, eager to tell Mr. Smith about what had happened that night. Entering the kitchen where he could smell the wonders of Mrs. Weasley's baking, Harry sat down next to Ginny who was quietly drinking some hot chocolate.
"Morning Harry," Ginny said groggily. "Mum tells me that you had an eventful night. Everything okay?"
"Yes!" said Harry proudly. "I did it Ginny! I forced him out before he could probe my mind. I knew he was there and I forced him out."
Ginny squealed in delight and caught Harry up in a big hug. Harry was surprised, but hugged her back. He was a little surprised by the fierceness of her hug and she held on to him a little longer than he would have expected, but he found that it was nice to get hugged by Ginny. When she pulled away her eyes were glistening, but she was smiling a broad smile.
"Oh Harry, I'm glad this is starting to work."
Harry smiled back at her and picked up his cup of hot chocolate that Mrs. Weasley had put down for him. Taking a sip from the mug, he grinned as Mrs. Weasley started serving a heaping platter of food for him.
Hermione joined them while Harry quietly ate his food and she too reacted happily to Harry's news.
"Harry, that's excellent! Maybe now you will be able to spend a little less time doing Occlumency."
"Hermione, I'm shocked. You want me to not study? Are you okay?" Harry teased.
"No," she whispered conspiratorially, obviously trying to keep Mrs. Weasley from overhearing. "But I have another project that you might want to work on if you have the time."
"What's that?" Harry asked, wondering why they were whispering.
"Last night I finally found the book I've been looking for the past few days while you've been holed up with Mr. Smith."
"Which book?"
"Well, Professor Lupin let it slip that Sirius kept a journal while her learned how to become an Animagus. Your dad seems to have written in it too, when Sirius was goofing off too much."
"I need to see it," Harry said determinedly. "Where is it?"
"Upstairs, in mine and Ginny's room. But Harry, I'm sorry to say that there is nothing really personal there, it's mostly stuff about what they learned to transform."
"Okay, but still, it was my Dad's, I want to see it. Why were you looking for it anyway?" Harry asked curiously.
"Well, you see," Hermione replied somewhat evasively. "I was thinking that it might be a good idea for us to learn how to become an Animagus. Don't you think?"
"Yes. Yes I do," Harry said with fierce determination.
"Yes, we have met Albus," Mr. Smith replied. "I met Harry at the beginning of this summer. It's actually what made me decide to get involved in the world's affairs again."
Dumbledore was stunned. How was it possible that Smith had met Harry without his knowledge? Any use of magic around Harry was immediately registered by one of his many devices in his study, and outside of those events that Albus already knew of, there was no unexplained magic. Nothing.
"May I enquire how this happened?" Dumbledore asked, frustration edging into his voice. In fact, Dumbledore was furious and both Harry and Mr. Smith seemed to understand that. Harry was concerned, but he could sense that Mr. Smith was amused.
"Professor, I didn't know he was a wizard, honest. I thought he was in charge of the park where I worked this summer. We cleaned it up, and well, we talked. Not about anything we weren't supposed to, honest. But he befriended me when I couldn't bear to talk with anyone who already knew me. And he also helped me buy my new clothing. He took me shopping and let me just be myself."
"I didn't tell him I was a wizard, Albus. You know how I feel about that. That hasn't changed. But I've kept track of things and I knew you'd make a mess of things with your misguided approaches. The boy just needed a friend, and you locked him away with those stupid relatives of his. I had to take some action-- even I know the world is at risk. And up too much has already been taken from me to sit idly by when I can be of help."
Dumbledore slowly looked back and forth between the two of them, not entirely sure what to think. He was accustomed to knowing every detail, being in full command of the facts. This was a surprise, and he hoped there would be no negative repercussions.
"Harry, if you will, Zebediah and I need to talk privately. Perhaps you could inform your friends of what has transpired?" A brief smile appeared on Dumbledore's grim face. "They will have discovered, no doubt, that their remarkable tool stopped working the moment you opened that door."
With a very faint twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore gestured sharply to Mr. Smith and together they walked towards the kitchen. Harry felt, somehow, the power of Dumbledore's magic as kitchen was sealed off from physical or magical eavesdropping. Clearly Dumbledore was upset, and Harry was determined to find out why. Both because it was useful to know which buttons actually worked against the powerful wizard, and so Harry could choose whether to press them in the future.
Grinning to himself, he turned to the stairs and ran up to the first landing. As Dumbledore had predicted, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting there heatedly whispering to each other about why the extendable ears were not working. None of them had heard Harry's mad dash up the stairs, so were startled when he appeared before them.
"Dumbledore blocked them," Harry said quietly, inserting himself seamlessly into the conversation. "He didn't want you to hear the conversation I was going to have with my new tutor on Occlumency, but things didn't go according to Dumbledore's plans."
"What does that mean," asked Hermione suspiciously.
"Well," said Harry. "Remember that Mr. Smith I told you about? The guy at the park and who helped me buy my clothes?"
When all three nodded in affirmation Harry continued.
"Well, apparently he's a wizard."
"Bloody hell," whispered Ron in amazement. "Did Dumbledore know?"
"Ronald, language," Hermione snapped in a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at his girlfriend and grinned at Harry.
"No, Dumbledore was stunned when I knew Mr. Smith," said Harry. "It was kind of odd. Dumbledore is usually entirely in control and here he was completely bewildered. And very upset."
"Well of course he was upset," Hermione sighed. Seeing the confused looks on the faces of Hand Ron, she continued. "Harry, he wants to protect you as much as possible. He's still concerned about all of the events of last year, and feels like he needs to know what is going on to protect you. The fact that some unknown wizard was able to spend days or weeks with you, without his knowledge, probably terrified him. If a good wizard could have done that, why couldn't an unknown Deatheater?"
Harry sighed at Hermione's usual brilliant insight. Of course Dumbledore would be worried that this mysterious master at Occlumency would already be known to Harry. As an occlumens, Mr. Smith would be able to hide anything from Dumbledore, and could potentially be a threat. While Harry doubted very much that Mr. Smith presented any form of a threat to himself or the Order, it did put a new light on Dumbledore's reaction now that he thought about it.
Then again, there seemed to be something almost personal about Dumbledore's reaction to Mr. Smith. They obviously knew each other, and had a history of some form. Harry was very curious to find out what that was all about, and he wanted to know why Mr. Smith felt odd about being a wizard.
Ginny snapped him out of his reverie by stomping on his foot, trying to get his attention.
"Hello? Earth to Harry? Are you in there?" she asked with a grin. "Care to inform us about what you thoughts are, or do we have to guess?"
"No, erm, it's just, there's a lot to question, as always, and I really want to find out more about Mr. Smith. He seemed to be hesitant about helping, something about rejoining the world. Why did he leave? Who is this guy?"
"It's easy to figure out, Harry," said Hermione. "All we have to do is..."
"Go to the library!" said Harry and Ron in unison, finishing Hermione's sentence for her with matching grins.
"I knew I'd be a good influence on you," she smiled and marched up the stairs to the room full of books that Sirius had left her.
As the four of them started rummaging through the books, it fell upon Hermione to decide the best plan of action. She separated them into two groups, her and Ron, Harry and Ginny. The groups separated and started looking for books that described the battles against Grindelwald. When Harry and Ron expressed confusion about that, she patiently explained that since Dumbledore and Smith knew each other, and both were seemingly ancient wizards, this was the best place to start. Plus, Hermione reminded them that she had painstakingly reviewed lists of all members of the Order from the first rise of Voldemort and knew that Mr. Smith had never been in the Order. So he had to come from previous war.
Their research plan decided, the two pairs split the library in half trying to find anything that would help them. Since this was not the Hogwarts library, there was no obvious cataloguing system. Instead the library seemed to be sorted in different ways, reflecting the numerous owners of the house over the centuries. Hermione was growing more and more frustrated at her inability to figure out where appropriate books would be located. She was quietly gathering a massive pile of books in the center of the room, all the while muttering to herself about the need to impose some order on the library. Meanwhile, Ron was randomly picking books off her pile and flipping through the pages to see if he saw Mr. Smith's name.
Harry and Ginny were not having any greater success, though their pattern of researching was perhaps better than Ron's. Ginny, delighted at the opportunity to use magic outside of school, quietly cast several cleaning charms to clear off the dust from the spines of the books. Harry quietly scanned each shelf, looking for books that might have some benefit. While he picked fewer books to review more carefully than Hermione, he too had built up quite a large pile of books in the center of the room.
It took them over two hours just to rifle through all of the books. They finally all sat down on the floor and started picking out books to read through, hoping for any clue as to who Mr. Smith really was. After another hour of leafing through books had passed, Ginny excitedly jumped up and thrust the book in her hands into Harry's face.
"Harry, look, it's him!"
As Harry focused on the book in front of him he saw a scowling photo of Mr. Smith looking ominously through the pages up at Harry. He was much younger in this photo and the photo seemed to have been taken from a battlefield from the war with Grindelwald, after an apparent victory against Grindelwald's forces.
Excitedly, Harry quickly looked at the cover of the book and his jaw dropped open in surprise. This was not a book Ginny should have been reading. He wasn't even sure if he should be reading it.
"Ginny, that's not a good book to read," whispered Harry in awe. "How do you know it wasn't booby-trapped?"
Ginny rolled her eyes and gave Harry a sarcastic look. Nodding her head at Hermione, Ginny smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
"Harry, Si- that is, erm, last summer we cleared out the library of dangerous books when we learned that Hermione was going to stay here. Everyone was worried that she'd start reading everything as soon as she found this place. Remus and," she sighed and continued in a small voice, "Sirius, well, they put all the dangerous books in Sirius' study. Hermione won't be able to get at them until she learns the proper spells, which should be next year."
"Oh," Harry said quietly, small tears suddenly appearing in his eyes at the thought of Sirius. Shaking his head at the emotion, he turned his head to look out the window. Hermione, sensing his distress, took the book out of his hands and started reading through the description of Mr. Smith.
"It says here that Mr. Smith," she said, summarizing what she was reading, "was one of Dumbledore's closest friends throughout the war with Grindelwald, until near the end. Mr. Smith's wife was taken captive by Grindelwald's followers and she was tortured to death.
"This book is sick!" she exclaimed. "It describes exactly how the poor woman was tortured, and even suggests other methods that could have been used. Who would write this stuff?"
"The bastard who killed my wife."
All heads turned towards the library door where Mr. Smith was standing. He was no longer dressed in muggle clothes and was dressed as any other wizard would have been dressed. His dark blue robes had the softness of age, but seemed to be in good condition. In his hand he held his wand, surprising Harry who was struggling with the concept of Mr. Smith as a wizard.
Zebediah crossed the room in a few quick strides and took the book out of Hermione's hands. Firmly closing it, he placed it back on a shelf and drew himself a chair in midair. A large firm leather chair plunked down onto the floor and he sat down, grasping the book in his hands.
"The Foul Foes of Grindelwald by Jehan Vorster. As you can tell it was not an adulatory book. It did not praise those of us that worked for the demise of that foul creature. No, Vorster was a chief lieutenant of Grindelwald, and he wrote this book as a way of advising future Dark wizards on how to avoid his fate. He wrote it during his trial, which took months and months after Albus killed Grindelwald. Only a few dozen copies were ever made, printing was halted when the book was discovered, but enough of the wrong families got their own copies. This is a foul and nasty book, by a dark and evil man."
Mr. Smith kept clenching his hands, his fingers turning white from the strain and he lapsed into a silence that Harry found disturbing. He could relate to the pain that he heard in Mr. Smith's voice, and he steeled himself at the temptation offered there, to dive back in to his own grief. Harry looked at his friends, unsure of what to say, where to start. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all glanced helplessly back at Harry and shrugged their shoulders. Harry decided to wait for Mr. Smith to keep talking and patiently waited as the minutes ticked by. Eventually Mr. Smith sighed and looked up at the four of them.
"But, that's decades past and we have things to do. I came back for a particular reason, young Harry, and I intend to see it completed so I can return to my quiet life. You have much to learn, and apparently I'm the only one that is safe enough to teach you what you need to know."
Mr. Smith's eyes flashed at his last comment, and Harry could tell that he was upset. Harry was not certain about the reasoning behind Mr. Smith's distress, but he was determined to find out.
"How exactly are you going to teach Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes flashing with protective fire. "He's had a particularly bad summer and the last thing he needs is more stress."
"Hermione, relax, it's okay, he's a good guy. I trust him," Harry smiled at her and turned to look at Mr. Smith. "He's going to teach me Occlumency. I need to shield that bastard from my mind, and maybe, just maybe, I'll learn enough to probe into his. Get some advantages out of this stupid scar."
Mr. Smith smiled grimly at Harry's determined expression and nodded his head in confirmation. "Exactly. I intend to have you adequately trained within a week. Which means constant work and an enormous amount of dedication. But I think you are up to the challenge."
Mr. Smith stood and made his chair vanish. Beckoning Harry with a finger, the two of them left the library and headed to one of the many empty rooms in the house. Harry realized he had never been in this room and was surprised to see that it was completely empty. The walls were a bare plain white, the floor uncovered, revealing dark wooden plats, and there was no furniture present. This was bound to be uncomfortable.
Grinning at the forlorn look on Harry's face, Mr. Smith quickly muttered a few spells and the room immediately started to take on a more comfortable aspect. A thick rug appeared and unrolled itself across the middle of the room, followed by two large leather chairs similar to the one he had used in the library, and two small tables next to the chairs. A splash of color appeared on one wall and slowly spread around all the walls, giving them a faint blue color that warmed the room considerably. Finally two lamps appeared near the chairs, giving off a soft glow.
Plopping down into one chair, Mr. Smith made himself comfortable. He removed his shoes, massaged his temple, and gestured to Harry to take the other chair. Placing his wand on the table near him, Mr. Smith slowly started stretching his arms and back in a pattern that Harry could tell was borne of decades of practice. Harry started mimicking those movements, to Mr. Smith's obvious pleasure, and slowly felt the tension in his neck and shoulders dissipate. Harry was surprised by how tense he was, and as he continued stretching, he realized that he was accustomed to the pressure in his neck. With a small grin he shook his head at the absurdity of that realization and reminded himself to take better care of his body's needs in the future.
After several minutes of stretching, Mr. Smith finally stopped and picked up his wand again. At a slight gesture, Harry did the same.
"Now Harry, Albus has informed me of your previous training in this area. Let's see what you've learned. I want you to prepare for me to invade your mind, try to prevent it. Ready?"
Harry nodded and tried to clear his mind, as Professor Snape had instructed him in the past. Dimly he heard Mr. Smith cast a spell. Memories flooded through Harry's mind, overwhelming his attempt to block the intrusion, and he found himself reliving the last attack he had suffered at his Aunt and Uncle's house. He started shouting and realized that this was in his mind. Gathering his strength, he pushed back against the invasion and forced Mr. Smith from his mind.
Snapping back to reality, he found himself sprawled on the floor, having fallen from the chair, and he was sweating profusely. Grimly, Mr. Smith pulled him up and offered him a drink from a pitcher that he must have conjured.
"Harry, that was absolutely unacceptable. I don't understand what you were trying to do at all."
"I was just doing what I was told, trying to clear my mind. But that's hard, I'm sorry."
Mr. Smith stared at Harry in disbelief. He didn't say anything to Harry, obviously trying to control his temper.
"You were doing what?" he asked, biting each word off as he spoke them, his fists clenching and unclenching in anger.
"Erm, I was trying to clear my mind, that's what Snape told me to do," Harry said defensively. He was not pleased that this first attempt went so badly, and the fact that Mr. Smith was obviously upset embarrassed Harry. Smith knew that Harry had been having a particularly bad summer. Didn't Smith know that Harry's defenses were probably weaker than normal? Shaking with angry frustration, Harry slumped down into the chair.
"Harry," Mr. Smith started, obviously trying to control his temper. "Do you mean to tell me that the only technique you have learned is to clear your mind? Nothing else?"
"Yes," Harry replied defensively. "That's all Snape taught me. I was to clear my mind and expel any intrusions. He also wanted me to clear my mind every night, but that was hard to do."
"ALBUS!" Mr. Smith roared angrily, his voice magically amplified so that it seemed to shake the entire house. "GET UP HERE NOW!"
Moments passed by as Harry stared uncomprehendingly at Mr. Smith. Was he angry with Harry? The rage emanating from Mr. Smith was palpable and Harry was becoming frustrated with the lack of explanation for his anger. When Dumbledore opened the door and walked in, he had obviously regained his composure from earlier. Glancing between the two occupants of the room, Dumbledore looked at Mr. Smith calmly.
"You called?"
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WAS THAT IDIOT DOING TO HARRY?" Mr. Smith roared.
"I'm not sure I understand," Dumbledore replied calmly, his eyes reflecting his confusion. "Which individual are we talking about?"
"SNAPE! He hasn't taught Harry the first thing about Occlumency, Snape started him off at the highest level and expected him to survive."
"I don't follow," Dumbledore said, his voice becoming strained with concern.
Mr. Smith sat down in his chair with a flourish and quickly conjured a chair for Dumbledore. It did not appear as comfortable as the ones he had conjured for himself or Harry, but Dumbledore sat down without any apparent fuss.
"Snape has had Harry trying to clear his mind, a skill that takes years to fully master. It's like being thrown head first into a dragon's mouth with a tissue as protection. Harry doesn't know the first thing about Occlumency, and he has only survived this long due to the natural strength of his mind."
Dumbledore's eyes flashed fire and he turned his gaze to Harry.
"I see," he said, his voice clipped with tight control. "I had hoped that the situation was not as bad as that, but I see my error in hoping that Severus and Harry would get along has hurt many of us."
He turned to look at Mr. Smith, an apology in his eyes. "I trust that you will be able to remedy the situation? Of course, once term starts Harry and I will be able to continue your lessons together. If that is acceptable to you both."
Mr. Smith curled his lips at Dumbledore's implied apology and shook his head with a sigh. "I have much more to do than I thought, but I believe that Harry is up to the task. He knows he doesn't have a choice, so he'll survive, I'm sure."
"Would the two of you mind explaining to me what in blazes you are talking about? I don't have a clue what you are saying and I'm sitting right here."
"I apologize Harry," said Dumbledore. "But Mr. Smith will explain. I guarantee you that he is trustworthy, and he will help you immensely. As I have said repeatedly since the end of term, I made grave mistakes, and I intend to rectify them. However, I must leave, Arthur needs me at the Ministry and I am already late."
As Dumbledore swept from the room, Mr. Smith took a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Harry, it's like this," he explained. "Occlumency is a complicated and confusing art. What Snape asked you to do was start at the end, rather than the beginning. There are techniques and skills that can be used to train your mind so that you can do as he asked and clear your mind. But you are young and inexperienced in controlling your emotions or thoughts. I believe that you recognize the need for greater control over your temper, your feelings?"
Satisfied at Harry's nodding head, Mr. Smith continued.
"Well, you can't start at the point of clearing your mind. No one can. So let's start from the beginning. I want you to search your memory and think of something personal about which you know every detail. Something like a favorite stuffed animal, a toy, something that is small and simple to think about. Now, close your eyes and search your memory."
Harry closed his eyes and let various objects float through his mind. He saw glimpses of things from Hogwarts: his trunk, his wand, his father's invisibility cloak, his broom. He kept sorting through items, trying to find something that would work. He saw Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. He smiled and recalled the instruction to think of something small, Hagrid certainly didn't fit that description. He needed to think of something smaller. He saw Ginny, smiling at him on his birthday. He saw Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, lying crumpled on the ground. He saw Ginny pulling out her wand at the Ministry. His eyes popped open and he was blushing furiously, and he didn't understand why his mind was focusing on Ginny.
Mr. Smith noticed the blush and smiled. "Harry, I should have told you it cannot be a person, no matter how special they may be to you. It must be a thing. Now, please choose some thing, an object."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes again. Concentrating, he quickly snapped his eyes open again and looked across to Mr. Smith.
"I have it," Harry said in a determined voice.
"Excellent. Now, I want you to focus on your object, think about its every detail. When I try to penetrate your mind I want you to focus hard on that object. If I manage to push through, I want you to expel me again as before, but I want you to focus on that object and keeping me out. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded and focused. He bent his mind to focusing clearly on the one object he knew better than anything, the Snitch. He focused on the flapping wings, the tiny engraving on the metallic sphere, and the glint of light on its golden surface. He concentrated on the little sphere with intensity. Suddenly a sharp force shoved at him and the Snitch was gone. Harry found himself back at the Dursley's, pouring tea for Aunt Marge. As she glowered at him with disgust, Harry remembered that he was at Grimmauld Place. Twisting his head he pushed back against the force that he could feel pressing down on him.
"Get out!" he shouted. "Get out of my mind."
With a soft whoosh, Harry's concentration returned and he was back in the room with Mr. Smith. Harry was sweating and panting heavily. Mr. Smith was gently rubbing his wand hand, looking over at Harry.
"Well, that was a good first step, I suppose, but you'll have to do better. You need to focus your mind on the Snitch. I gather that's what you are choosing to focus on?"
Harry nodded his head in affirmation.
"Fine. But you have to completely concentrate. Focus all your thoughts on the Snitch. When you feel any pressure, concentrate. Keep me from pushing in. Okay? Let's try again."
Harry nodded and focused again. He focused on the Snitch. He pushed his mind to think solely about the Snitch and watched the wings fluttering wildly as the Snitch hovered in front of him. He felt a push in his mind and felt a vague sensation pushing against the edges of his concentration, but Harry ignored it. He was intent on the Snitch. The fluttering became more intense and Harry focused on the Snitch, bending his mind to the tiny golden sphere. Then he felt a hard shove, and Harry gasped in pain and watched as the Snitch flittered away. It was gone and he couldn't see it any more. Suddenly Harry was back in the Shrieking Shack with Wormtail, Remus, and Sirius. He was saving the wretched little rat's life. The he was in the Gryffindor common room, talking with Sirius through the fireplace. He was at Grimmauld place, for Christmas, and Sirius was dancing around singing wildly off key. Then Harry found himself back in the Ministry, in that awful room where the Veil stood. He saw Sirius falling, falling towards the veil. Harry let out a primal scream of agony.
"This isn't real. GET OUT OF MY MIND!" he bellowed. With a loud whooshing sensation he found himself lying on the ground next to his chair. Wearily he looked up and was shocked when he couldn't see Mr. Smith anywhere nearby. Readjusting his glasses, Harry looked around the room and saw Mr. Smith lying in a corner, breathing heavily.
Harry rushed over to the older man, a look of concern on his face. "Mr. Smith? Are you okay?"
Mr. Smith let out a soft groan, and then started chuckling.
"Fantastic Harry, absolutely fantastic! That was much better. It took me a full minute to penetrate your mind. And you pushed me out quite effectively, all things considered. We'll have to work on that. But this was excellent for a first real try. Dumbledore was quite correct in his assessment. You are a very gifted student."
Harry blushed at the compliment, but looked at Mr. Smith with confusion. "What do you mean? It couldn't have been more than a few seconds."
"No Harry, you held me off for a good bit for a first try. Now I'll admit I was probably not as rough with you as Voldemort would be, but we'll continue working to get you there. Eventually we'll have you move from just focusing on the Snitch to other things and ultimately to nothing. And we also need to improve your stamina so you can block for a longer time. But let's try again, all right?"
Several hours later an exhausted Harry slowly made his way into the kitchen for dinner. Mr. Smith had quietly taken his leave, professing a desire to be alone for the evening in preparation for the next day's training. He had ordered Harry to focus on the Snitch when he wasn't occupied with other things, but not to worry himself over it. And when Harry was about to go to sleep, Mr. Smith wanted Harry to concentrate on his Snitch as hard as he could.
Harry, looking worn out and emotionally exhausted, paused in the doorway to take in the usual chaos of meal time with the Weasley family. Fred and George were busy detailing their day at the shop to Mrs. Weasley, explaining eagerly that they had received a new batch of orders from students at schools throughout the country and they were going to expand their staff again to create all of the products they needed. Ron and Hermione were playfully setting the table, using magic now that they were allowed, and Ginny was busy stirring some of the pots on the stove that Mrs. Weasley had prepared for the meal.
Hermione was the first to notice Harry and she immediately raced toward him, grasping him in a big hug.
"How'd everything go? Was it better this time? How was Mr. Smith? You look exhausted, are you tired?"
"Lay off him Hermione," Ron interrupted. "He's probably knackered and can't answer all those questions at once. Harry, take a seat here and relax, please."
Harry grinned at Ron and Hermione's concern. It was good to have friends like these two, who would do anything for him if he needed it. Nodding his head at Ron, he sank down into a chair and looked up at Hermione.
"It was exhausting, difficult, and emotionally nerve-wracking, but it went well," he smiled. "Mr. Smith has a much better teaching style than that smelly git, and I think I learned a lot today. Plus, it appears Snape wasn't teaching me the right way all along, Mr. Smith was quite put out by that."
"I imagine so," Hermione said with a severe frown. "If it wasn't the right way to teach you, well, that explains why you didn't make as much progress as Professor Dumbledore hoped. But I wonder what Professor Snape was thinking? Why didn't he train you properly?"
"Because he's a slimy, evil git and he's not trustworthy," Ron said savagely. "He's probably trying to keep in the good graces of V-Voldemort, so he didn't train Harry the right way."
Hermione frowned at Ron and shook her head. She wasn't entirely prepared to doubt Professor Snape's loyalty to Professor Dumbledore, or the Order. She couldn't explain why, but Hermione knew that if Dumbledore trusted Snape, there was a solid and legitimate reason. Privately though Hermione was starting to worry. There was so much that was unexplained, and Professor Snape had not helped himself with his refusal to teach Harry properly. Hopefully he had a good explanation, one that would even satisfy Harry, hard as that may be to do at this point.
Mrs. Weasley quickly ushered everyone to the table and began serving generous portions of food, piling extra helpings on Harry's plate with a motherly smile.
"You need to eat up dear, you're nothing but skin and bones and you need your energy. I also fully expect you to get a good night's rest for once. Those sessions with Mr. Smith will be very draining on you and you need your rest. That's an order."
Harry smiled weakly at Mrs. Weasley and started digging through his plate. Once he started eating he was surprised to find that he did indeed have a healthy appetite and managed to finish his plate almost as quickly as Ron. Unlike Ron, however, Harry did not ask for a second plate as he was decidedly full.
Mrs. Weasley asked Fred and George to clear the table while she served dessert and it was while she was passing around the pudding that Mr. Weasley finally came home.
"Arthur, dear, you look knackered. Please, sit down and have a plate. I'll get you a nice cold butterbeer. Ronald, please make room for your father, I'm sure he's had a hard day."
Ron quickly slid down, squeezing in closer to Hermione, causing her to blush. But it also had the effect of making plenty of room for Mr. Weasley to slump into his seat. He looked over at Harry, gave him a friendly nod and winked in Mrs. Weasley's direction.
"It's nice to be taken care of every now and then, isn't it? If I wasn't truthfully so tired I'd be tempted to exaggerate just to give her the pleasure of taking care of me."
Harry smiled at Mr. Weasley's conspiratorial whisper and noticed that Ginny and Hermione were also grinning at him. Mrs. Weasley returned with a plate overflowing with food and an ice cold butterbeer which she popped open with a flick of her wand.
Just then Harry felt himself become overwhelmed with tiredness and let out a massive yawn. Mrs. Weasley patted his head wistfully and pulled him into a big hug.
"Time for bed, young man. Now march upstairs and go to sleep, scoot!" she ordered.
Harry was too tired to argue and nodded his head sleepily. As he walked up the stairs saying a quiet good night to his friends he did as he was ordered and started thinking about the Snitch.
The next several days were lost in a blur for Harry. He spent the vast majority of each day secluded in a room with Mr. Smith. They spent a lot of time going over various meditation techniques and relaxation methods. They also spent a lot of time in mental battle. Every day Mr. Smith would spend hour after hour forcing his way into Harry's mind, breaking down his mental barriers while Harry struggled to block Mr. Smith from entering, or to force him out quickly if Mr. Smith was successful.
To Harry's surprise, but not Mr. Smith's, Harry made a great deal of progress in a short period of time. Harry was determined to master this skill and free his dreams from becoming nightmares every night. Harry also wanted to prevent Voldemort from tricking him again, and this was the only way to do that. He pushed himself incredibly hard, even to the point where Mr. Smith was starting to worry about the strain. But Harry pressed on. He had to overcome this weakness and secure his mind from Voldemort's attacks. The constant repetition of the spells and attacks seemed to be having an exercising effect, and Harry's abilities grew every day. He was eventually able to keep Mr. Smith out of his mind for several minutes while they battled for control, and the force with which Harry pushed Mr. Smith out when he did break through was quite impressive indeed.
However, it was amazingly draining and Harry collapsed into bed every night, struggling with the need to do his mental exercises and focus his mind. As Harry drifted off to sleep, concentrating on the Snitch, he smiled in pleasure at the progress he had made.
The wind was blowing fiercely as Harry searched for the Snitch out on the Quidditch field. He had been focusing on it, came close to getting it, but it slipped through his fingertips and zipped away. Frantically searching around, Harry couldn't seem to locate it. Oddly, he realized that he was alone on the Quidditch field. As he continued to look for the Snitch, he felt an ominous sense of foreboding crawl over him. Off in the distance he thought he saw a dark shape on the ground, but it was too far away for him to make out. The gray skies whirled in preparation for a powerful storm, and a cold and biting rain started falling from the sky. Harry pulled out his wand to cast an impervious charm on his glasses and his wand didn't work. That was when Harry realized something was wrong.
As the skies started whirling even faster, Harry realized that he was in a dream, but he wasn't in control of his dream, again. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and focused on the Snitch. He painstakingly created a Snitch in his mind, focusing on the gold sphere with all his might. As he focused he could hear the wind blowing with greater force and the rain started pelting him even harder. Bending his mind to focus on the Snitch, he started pushing out with his concentration, shoving against the wind and the rain. Suddenly Harry felt a tremendous force pushing against his mind, trying to penetrate beyond his defenses. Harry tensed his shoulders again and pushed with all his might. He felt the hard, cold presence of Voldemort's cruel mind. Voldemort was raging in inchoate fury at Harry's resistance. Pushing again with all his might, Harry let out a powerful roar.
"GET OUT OF MY MIND!"
Harry somehow heard Voldemort roaring in pain and howling with fury. The noise quickly faded in the distance and Harry bolted upright, finding himself awake in his room at Grimmauld Place, sweating profusely. Ron was awake and looking over at him with concern wand in hand. He had obviously been woken up by Harry's shouting.
"You okay, mate?" he asked with concern.
"I, I think so," replied Harry somewhat shakily but with growing enthusiasm. "I think I pushed him out Ron, I think I did it before he was able to do anything or make me see anything!"
Crowing with joy Harry jumped up on his bed and started jumping around. He hopped over to Ron's bed and started jumping around, jostling Ron around the bed as he scrambled to get out of Harry's way. The door flung open with a tired looking Mrs. Weasley glaring at them, her wand in her hand held firmly in preparation for an attack.
"What is going on in here?" Mrs. Weasley sternly demanded.
"Mum, we were just celebrating. Harry managed to force V-Voldemort out of his mind, and his training seems to have helped."
"Oh," Mrs. Weasley replied, her eyes glistening and her stern frown softening into a smile. "Well, then, that's excellent. But let's carry on in the morning, we all need our sleep."
"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied, still grinning. "We'll go to bed now. Good night."
"Good night boys. Sleep well."
The next morning Harry bounded down the stairs, eager to tell Mr. Smith about what had happened that night. Entering the kitchen where he could smell the wonders of Mrs. Weasley's baking, Harry sat down next to Ginny who was quietly drinking some hot chocolate.
"Morning Harry," Ginny said groggily. "Mum tells me that you had an eventful night. Everything okay?"
"Yes!" said Harry proudly. "I did it Ginny! I forced him out before he could probe my mind. I knew he was there and I forced him out."
Ginny squealed in delight and caught Harry up in a big hug. Harry was surprised, but hugged her back. He was a little surprised by the fierceness of her hug and she held on to him a little longer than he would have expected, but he found that it was nice to get hugged by Ginny. When she pulled away her eyes were glistening, but she was smiling a broad smile.
"Oh Harry, I'm glad this is starting to work."
Harry smiled back at her and picked up his cup of hot chocolate that Mrs. Weasley had put down for him. Taking a sip from the mug, he grinned as Mrs. Weasley started serving a heaping platter of food for him.
Hermione joined them while Harry quietly ate his food and she too reacted happily to Harry's news.
"Harry, that's excellent! Maybe now you will be able to spend a little less time doing Occlumency."
"Hermione, I'm shocked. You want me to not study? Are you okay?" Harry teased.
"No," she whispered conspiratorially, obviously trying to keep Mrs. Weasley from overhearing. "But I have another project that you might want to work on if you have the time."
"What's that?" Harry asked, wondering why they were whispering.
"Last night I finally found the book I've been looking for the past few days while you've been holed up with Mr. Smith."
"Which book?"
"Well, Professor Lupin let it slip that Sirius kept a journal while her learned how to become an Animagus. Your dad seems to have written in it too, when Sirius was goofing off too much."
"I need to see it," Harry said determinedly. "Where is it?"
"Upstairs, in mine and Ginny's room. But Harry, I'm sorry to say that there is nothing really personal there, it's mostly stuff about what they learned to transform."
"Okay, but still, it was my Dad's, I want to see it. Why were you looking for it anyway?" Harry asked curiously.
"Well, you see," Hermione replied somewhat evasively. "I was thinking that it might be a good idea for us to learn how to become an Animagus. Don't you think?"
"Yes. Yes I do," Harry said with fierce determination.