Chapter 18 – A Question of Strength

That evening at eight o'clock sharp Harry stood in front of the Potion master's office and knocked. He wasn't particularly pleased to be here, in fact he had rather hoped that Remus would be unable to convince Snape to continue his lessons. But somehow Remus had managed, and in addition to that he had also told Harry in no uncertain terms that he expected him to do his best and take whatever Snape told him seriously. He had tried last term, he really had, but it was not easy to be taught something this important by somebody he absolutely detested. However, he had given his promise to Remus that he would try, and so he had come here to try. If Snape only let him be for a moment, his constant provoking had never helped him. With a sigh, Harry knocked at the door and waited.

"Come in", Snape's voice came from inside and Harry had to give up his last feeble hopes that maybe the man was not there for some reason. Harry opened the door and stepped into the room, closing the door behind himself. Snape was standing next to his desk, looking at Harry as he entered.

"You're just in time, Potter."
"Good evening…Sir", Harry said, remembering Snape's insistence on the title last year. Actually, he had sworn rather to bite his tongue off than saying it, but now that he was already here…well, he could also go the whole way then. He knew that Snape had helped him greatly, and he needed to thank him for it. Even though it was difficult to thank Severus Snape. "Thank you for agreeing to give me Occlumency lessons again. And thank you for helping me when I poisoned myself."

Snape looked at Harry for a moment, then he nodded. "We will still see whether I am wasting my time here. Now, do you remember what I have told you about Occlumency last term, or do we need to go over it all again?"

Harry shook his head and suppressed the anger that was rising up quickly in him. "No, I do remember. There is no need to tell me again."

"Good." Snape took out his wand, and then he turned towards the stone basin that stood on a shelf near the window. He did what Harry had seen him often before and what he now recognized as the act of disposing certain memories into a Pensieve. He felt slightly guilty for snooping around in it last year.

"Professor, about what I did with your Pensieve last year…"

Snape turned around so abruptly that Harry actually started a bit. Snape looked as furious as Harry had ever seen him, and he pointed the hand in which he held the wand at Harry.

"We will not talk about this", was all he said, then he turned and picked up the Pensieve to place it on the top shelf. Harry bit his lip and nodded, struggling to remember what exactly Snape had told him as preparation for last year's Occlumency lessons. Empty your mind, let go off all feelings. All right, sounded easy enough. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply a few times, trying to let go off the anger he felt towards Snape, the small stabbing sadness which had been his constant companion ever since Sirius' death, the frustration at being locked up here at Hogwarts instead of being with his friends.

"Legilimens!"

There had been no warning, Snape had simply cast the spell while Harry was still in his preparations. And before he knew what happened, he was back in the Death Chamber, and Bellatrix was taunting Sirius again, then there was this red burst of light and Sirius fell, fell backwards and through the archway, the archway through which he would never come back again.

Then he saw Remus lying in the hallway at Grimmauld Place, bleeding from a wound on his head and his body seized by heavy cramps.

More images flashed by in front of his mind's eye, but he tried to suppress them, tried to force them back, tried to force Snape to stop, but it was too overwhelming.

He was five again, sitting in the cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive, with his knees hugged to his chest and the tears streaming down his face. He had had that dream again, that dream which ended with the burst of green light and that horrible laughter in his head, only to wake up and find that he was alone and had nobody to comfort him, nobody to turn to…

No! No, he would not let Snape see that, he would not give him that emotional leverage on himself.

A sharp pain in his elbow brought him back to reality. He was kneeling on the floor in Snape's office, his hurting elbow hugged to his chest. Obviously, he had hit the desk upon going to his knees. He sighed, shook his head and got up from the floor. Snape was towering above him, his wand in his hand and a slight sneer on his face.

"I thought you were fighting me, but then you gave in again. You have to rid yourself of your feelings, Potter. Otherwise it won't work. With every emotion you allow to take over, you hand the Dark Lord a potential weapon against you."

"I know that, sir. But can you tell me how I'm supposed to do that? I can't just force myself not to feel."

"It's not about not feeling, Potter", Snape shot back. "It's about how much you let those feelings control yourself. Of course you have feelings, and of course you can't just tune them off entirely. But you mustn't allow them to dominate you, especially when you're most vulnerable. At night, or in case you're ever confronted with the Dark Lord again. That is why we practice here, do you understand that?"

"Yes, of course I do, Professor."

"Then why don't you show it? You can feel me forcing myself into your mind, can't you? Fight it. Force me back, make me leave your mind. And as soon as you think you're able to, use your wand on me and do whatever you think you can to stop me."

Harry frustratedly ran a hand through his hair and took his wand out of his pocket. How could he possibly push away feelings that ran so deep? Maybe he should try to imagine what it would be like, facing Voldemort and handing over his deepest fears and hurts to him. He didn't particularly like Snape mocking him about it, and he certainly didn't want Voldemort to find out how he could hurt him best. Harry breathed in deeply and tried to imagine his mind as one big blank gap, a void in which nothing really mattered but this moment, nothing but his attempt to keep Snape out of his thoughts.

"Legilimens!"

Bellatrix' gloating face again, smiling wickedly at what she had done to her cousin, mocking him with his love for his godfather…

No, no I don't want that. Expelliarmus! Go away, get out of my head! Expelliarmus!

Remus, lying bleeding on the floor, and inside of Harry the fear of losing the last of his father's friends was rising…

NO! No, he would not let it control him. There had to be nothing on his mind, no hurts, no cares, no love. Expelliarmus!

Uncle Vernon standing before him, his face a deep purple and spittle flying from his mouth as he yelled at the seven year old Harry for burning the toast.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry opened his eyes and found himself on his knees again, but this time he had his wand raised and pointed at his professor. Snape appeared to be unharmed, and though Harry distinctly remembered casting a disarming spell, he still had his wand in his hand. With a groan, Harry rose to his feet again. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You were fighting, but still you allow me to penetrate too deep into your mind, Potter."

"Did I cast the spell?", Harry asked a bit breathlessly, and for once didn't get reprimanded for omitting the 'sir' in his question.

"You did cast a disarming spell, but it was not strong enough to yield any results. There are things you cannot entirely free yourself of, but you must."

"I'm trying to, I'm trying to. It's only difficult."

Snape raised an eyebrow and twirled his wand in his hand once. "Well, nobody promised you that it would be easy." He thought for a moment, stepping back and forth between his desk and the window as he thought about something. Finally, he stepped up beside the desk again.

"Focus, Potter. You need to focus on the feelings you can't control as of yet. Make yourself aware of why they have such a control over yourself and then let go of them. What's done is done, what happened can't be changed anymore. What you can change now is if you will survive this war or not. We will try it again."

Harry nodded and gripped his wand tightly in his right hand. Snape made it sound so easy, but in fact it was bloody difficult. Sirius' death especially was a hurt he could not just simply ignore, let alone suppress somehow. Maybe he could not enforce it, maybe he had to accept that it was a hurt he would never be able to control entirely. Sirius was dead, and it hurt like hell, but he could not change it anymore. Snape was right, wherever that horrible thought came from. It hurt, but for now he simply had to accept that. He had already vowed to himself not to let it control his nightly dreams anymore, so he surely would not give Snape the satisfaction of proving unable to do so. Focus, that was the magic word. Focus.

"Legilimens!"

Snape prodding into his mind was an uncomfortable feeling, like someone pulling his worst thoughts out of their hiding places. Again he felt a tug that was about to pull out the memories of the night in the Death Chamber, but Harry didn't want that.

NO! No, I won't let you! Stupefy! Stupefy!

"Stupefy!"

For a moment nothing happened, then there was another image. Uncle Vernon, telling his sister Marge all those lies about Harry's father, and Harry felt his anger rising…

"Stupefy!"

Harry felt himself stumble backwards, arms flaying as if in search of something to hold on to, but meting only thin air. He fell onto his back, his head impacting with the stone floor so hard that bright red stars erupted behind his eyes. For a moment he lay there, panting and trying to discern whether the headache was coming from the knock on the head or from Snape's lesson.

"Get up, Potter", he heard his teacher's voice above him fro a moment, and as he moved to sit up and open his eyes, he found that Snape was standing over him, looking down with an expressionless gaze. Harry got to his feet, one hand rubbing the aching back of his head. Only then did he notice the thin line of blood that ran out of Snape's nose and down onto his lower lip. Before he could say anything, Snape had pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood away.

"Better", he said. "You didn't' waste your strength with unnecessary screaming this time. But it was still not strong enough to stop me entirely. You need to work on your focus. But that has been enough for today, Potter."

Harry nodded and pocketed his wand again.

"May I ask a question, sir?"

"Concerning Occlumency, you may."

"I think I understand what you mean with clearing my mind. But when you're trying to break into my thoughts, you're standing in front of me, and I know that you're doing it. I can prepare, at least a bit. But you said I was most vulnerable against Vol…against him at night, when I was asleep. There is nothing I can do to control my thoughts there."

Harry was glad that he had not called Voldemort by his name, otherwise Snape would have surely gotten angry again. Snape indeed seemed to give the matter some serious thought. Finally he nodded.

"Nothing as of yet, no. But in any case you need to master shielding your thoughts from a person who is trying to break into them directly. Once you have mastered that, your awareness for when the Dark Lord might try to use his connection to you will heighten. You will realize more than you do now. And you will be able to shield yourself, automatically, without conscious thought. If you are able to master the art of Occlumency, that is. For now there is nothing you can do to than try to clear your mind before you sleep. And you have to do that."

"I did try to, last year. But it didn't work. I kept on seeing that corridor in the Department of Mysteries, every night."

"You probably think it has not worked, but I doubt that you really tried to, Potter. You can't just lie down and close your eyes, you need to make a conscious effort to clear everything from your mind before you go to sleep. No matter how long it takes. For now this is a conscious effort. It's something you have to learn, Potter, nobody will present you the solution on a silver platter like you might be used to have it. You're dismissed, we'll continue this tomorrow at the same time."

Harry started a bit at this brisk dismissal, but he nodded and turned towards the door.

"Thank you, Professor", he said though something inside of him protested against it. Snape didn't answer, so Harry turned towards the office door and left the room.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A conscious effort my ass, Harry though as he lay in his bed that night. Clearing his mind like he had done that evening in Snape's office did work to some degree, but even if he did so, he was unable to fall asleep. And before long, thoughts and contemplations started to come up again and his mind was anything but cleared and empty. He sighed and rolled over, starting anew with clearing all thoughts from his mind. Ten minutes later he was lying on his back again, arms crossed behind his head, staring up against the ceiling. No, it definitely didn't work. He only wondered what Snape would say to this during their next session.

After another ten minutes, Harry realized that it was futile to try and fall asleep now, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. The air in the room was cold, so he quickly slipped into a pair of shoes, wrapped himself in a dressing gown and left the dormitory. He walked silently so that he would not wake Remus in the room next to his, but as he descended the spiral staircase down to the common room he realized that he needn't have worried. Remus was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, his knees drawn up to his chest and staring into the flickering flames. For a moment Harry just stood there and stared at his unmoving former teacher, but then the thought that he might be disturbing Remus entered his mind and he was about to turn around.

"You can as well come down, Harry."

Remus' voice was low, but Harry understood the words clearly. Slowly, he stepped into the room and walked over towards the fireplace, settling on the other end of the sofa at Remus' indication.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you."

Remus, like Harry clad in a pair of pyjamas and a dressing gown, finally tore his eyes away from the fireplace and looked at Harry. He smiled slightly.

"You didn't disturb me, Harry. But why are you still awake, you went to bed over an hour ago."

Harry shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I was trying to practice what Snape had told me that I should do before falling asleep, and it didn't work."

Remus turned to the right so that he was facing Harry, his knees still drawn up to his chest and his arms circled around them, the left hand clasping the right.

"Something not right?"

"I don't know. Snape told me that I need to clear my mind. It doesn't even work yet when Snape's trying to get into my thoughts, and clearing my mind before I fall asleep doesn't really work, I think."

Remus wanted to say something, but at that moment there was a low pop behind them, and a high-pitched and croaky voice interrupted him.

"Master Harry Potter! Dobby didn't know that Master Potter was at Hogwarts! Such a pleasure to see you!"

Harry turned around and found Dobby standing behind the sofa, excitedly whipping on the balls of his feet, his huge eyes wide open and the house elf equivalent of a face-splitting grin on his face.

"Dobby, hello! How are you?"

"Dobby is fine, Harry Potter. A lot of work to be done at Hogwarts, Dobby is glad to be here."

The house elf carried a tray with a pot and a cup over to the table and placed it in front of Remus. Remus smiled at the house elf.

"Thank you, Dobby."

"My pleasure, Master Lupin. Shall Dobby be fetching another cup for Master Potter?"

Harry nodded and immediately Dobby had vanished, only to appear a moment later with another cup and also a plate of biscuits in his hand.

"Thank you, Dobby."

"Master Potter will come visit Dobby in the kitchens when he has time?"

Harry laughed. "Of course I will, Dobby. Tomorrow, if I can manage. Good night."
Dobby gave a small bow as Remus bade him good night, then he vanished with another pop. Remus reached for the pot the elf had brought, pouring first Harry then himself a cup of hot chocolate. The rich scent of the hot drink engulfed Harry immediately, making him realize just how drowsy he was. He drank a sip and then kept the cup between his palms for warmth, a rather unnecessary action as it was not cold in the common room, but it was a comfortable gesture nevertheless. Remus seemed to search for the right line of thought for a moment, then he picked up their conversation at the point when Dobby had interrupted them.

"I'm not a master of Occlumency myself, but I'd say like every form of magic it takes a certain practice to master."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I know, that's what Snape said as well. It's just…I don't know, it's difficult. I know it was hard enough to convince him to give me those lessons again. I might hate his guts, and the thought that I need to shield my mind from Voldemort is disconcerting at the best, but from what it was like last year, I know that Snape will freak out on me if he gets the feeling that I'm not trying hard enough. I was trying to clear my mind like he told me, but it doesn't work. I can't fall asleep like that, and it doesn't take long until I start thinking about things again. I asked Snape how I'm supposed to do it, but he only said I needed to practice it until I could. That doesn't help me much."

Remus leaned back and ran his fingers absent-mindly across the rim of his cup.

"Severus is a very powerful wizard, and in his field he is one of the best teachers you can get", he smiled as he saw Harry's face turn into a grimace. "You might not agree with his didactic methods, or the way he treats the students of his house compared to the students of other houses, but you will not easily find another wizard who knows just as much about potions as he does. Occlumency is not something he usually teaches, and though he is an extremely talented Occlumencer, it is something entirely different than teaching potions. Potions is distant, it's about brewing something in a cauldron, about ingredients, their right measure and their correct preparation. To Severus it's an art, to you it might not be more than a nuisance, but fact is it's something entirely different than Occlumency. Occlumency is magic which concerns the minds of the wizards involved. In order to teach you how to master it, he needs to prod the weak spots in your mind to tell you how to properly shield them."

Harry shook his head. "But that's not what he does. He prods all right, and he keeps on telling me that I have to shield those thoughts, but he doesn't tell me how."

Remus finished his chocolate and refilled his cup.

"Because he doesn't know how, Harry."

"Damn good it does to let him teach me then."

"No, there you're mistaken. That is something he cannot teach you because you have to find it out by yourself. You have to find out how to deal with your fears, hurts, your cares and every other deep emotion yourself, so that you don't show them like an open book in case Voldemort ever tries to break into your mind again."

"I can't just stop feeling, can I?"

Harry didn't like how shaky his voice sounded, but Remus gave no indication that he had realized it.

"No, you can't. In fact, it would be horrible if you would. And nobody wants to force you to suppress your feelings, but you cannot allow them to control you. Especially in your dreams. That is the crucial distinction. A side-affect of you mastering Occlumency would be that those nightmares would if not vanish, then at least recede."

Harry filled the last of the hot chocolate into his empty cup and settled back on the sofa.

"That still doesn't help me to find out how to do what Snape asks of me."

"I don't think you can do anything until you know what is really bothering you. When Severus forces himself into your mind, he makes certain memories and feelings flare up again. That is where you have to start. You have to analyze what those memories mean to you, what power they hold over you and why. Only when you have dealt with them, you can stop Voldemort from using them as a weapon against you."

Harry bit his lip as he thought about what Remus had said to him. It sounded easy, but Harry knew that most things sounded easier than they were.

"I can't just deal with…with what Snape makes me see. Not with everything."

"It's Sirius' death, isn't it?", Remus asked softly, left hand absent-mindedly tracing the thing scar on the back of his right hand. Harry nodded after a short moment of hesitation.

"The dreams are still there, not every night, but still. And whenever Snape tries to teach me, it's always the first thing I see. I just can't stop feeling about it the way I do."

Remus didn't answer to that, and when Harry looked at him he realized that Remus' gaze was turned towards the fire, his eyes unfocussed. Harry didn't quite know what to do, he knew that talking about Sirius had conjured up memories they both didn't necessarily want to have right now. Sirius had meant very much to Harry, far more than the teenager had thought possible until he had understood that he'd never see him again, but to Remus he had meant so much more. Sirius had been Remus' friend ever since the two had been children, and there had been a couple of rough spots the two had gone through together. Remus missed Sirius probably far more than Harry did, and already he regretted that he had to remind Remus of him. Finally, Remus tore his eyes away from the fire.

"No, you can't just stop the way you feel about it", he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We all have to bear some hurts in our life, Harry. Some of us more, some less. The hurt of losing a loved one is not something that can be dealt with easily. And there are some hurts that simply can't be dealt with at all. Then the only question is if you're strong enough to live with the loss, or if you aren't."

Silence settled over the room, and Harry felt as if something clenched his chest together. That finality was something he had not dared to let get close to him until now. He had chickened out from the realization until now, maybe because some part of his mind had told him that if he only put that realization away, then it all would not be true. But now that he looked at Remus, the finality sank in. Rapidly. In the flickering light from the fireplace, Remus' face looked so much older than it had ever done to Harry. There were lines around his eyes and mouth which now seemed like dark shadows, his eyes were sunk in and their gaze was numb. Remus had not looked really healthy ever since Harry had first seen his former teacher during the summer holidays, something that had found its climax in his collapse a few days earlier, but even despite all the care he had received by Madam Pomfrey and the others he still looked shockingly unhealthy.

Remus had said that there were some hurts too deep to ever be dealt with, and with a horrible lurch of his stomach Harry asked himself whether Remus was still strong enough to deal with this latest loss. Remus had lost awfully much in his life, and Harry was aware that he didn't know everything about his former teacher's life that there was to know. But the little he did know was bad enough. Harry had not been treated kindly by life, but neither had Remus been. His life had been probably even worse than Harry's so far, and Harry's had not been good at all for the first eleven years. It had gotten remarkably better afterwards, but still Sirius' death was a hard enough emotional strike for him to make despair rise. How bad must it been for Remus, who had lost so many others and so much else before Sirius had died? What did Sirius' death do to the man? He had not even been aware of his fear of losing Remus until Snape had prodded those thoughts into his conscious awareness, but now this fear was there and would not go way again.

"And are you? Strong enough, I mean", he asked in a low voice. Remus just put his cup on the table and looked at his folded hands in his lap.

"I don't know, Harry. I just don't know."

He breathed in deeply a few times, then he got up from his place on the sofa and turned towards the staircase.

"Good night, Harry."

And he silently vanished up the stairs, leaving Harry to sit on the sofa staring into the flames like Remus had done earlier when Harry had found him. Remus' words and his behaviour had scared him. He could relate to his former teacher's feeling of hopelessness, but still it scared him to see Remus like that. The question what still kept him going was popping up in his mind. Remus had wanted to leave Grimmauld Place a few days ago, and only his physical condition had stopped him from doing so. Of course his reasons for leaving had not changed over night, yet Remus had still agreed to accompany Harry to Hogwarts. Why? Remus had said he had promised Professor Dumbledore to take care of him, but did Remus do all this solely because he felt responsible for his safety? Obviously, being here conjured up painful memories about his time as a student here. Harry didn't want to be the cause of further harm for Remus, but right now there was nothing he could do about it. With a sigh, he put his cup down onto the table and went up into his dormitory. He was too exhausted to think about anything before he fell asleep, but was aware that even if he had known how, today he'd have been unable to clear his mind of all thoughts.