Disclaimer: Still don't own anything

Okey dokey. So, last time I made a big mistake when I was editing. (See, this is why I need a beta reader! I do worse when I edit then when I actually just let it be.) I tried to edit on my own and ended up screwing it up badly. Oh boy. Thanks Gwenneth, for pointing that out. I must say "Bravissimo!" You're the only one who pointed it up. Sigh Screwed up again. This is getting ridiculous!

Well, anyway, thanks to people who reviewed last chapter, even though it was short and I made a slight blunder. If you didn't review, please do. I enjoy reading them.

So, here is the next chapter. To Wish One Could Forget is coming a bit slowly, but after I update this chapter my full dedication will be to the next segment of that story. I'm going to alternate between them so I don't get too confused.

Please don't forget to read/review. (Umm, forgive me, but my timeline is a little off on my story, so don't get mad if my time is way out of whack here.)

By the way, I have a new website now, for the few people in my groups at yahoo. It's now twilightauthorspotterpage(dot)bravehost(dot)com. Take a peak at it and tell me what you think.

WOW! Thanks to Spirit White for beta reading my story! You were excellent.

Chapter 22: Happy Birthday, Harry

Two days later, the day before Harry's sixteenth birthday, Snape began to let Harry assist him in the potion's lab. Harry received owls from his friends containing packages, but he lay them on the dresser and left his room the same time that morning as always. He would leave them to open until tonight, when he would have time.

As was becoming normal, Harry went to Snape's office where his cauldron had already been set out with ingredients for the next potions. "Calming Draught," Snape said. "We'll keep it simple today; you may begin." Snape never looked up from the paper he was studying closely. Harry nodded, although he was positive that Snape hadn't seen him. The past few days his Potions Professor had been acting rather strangely; the whole time Harry was in the dismal office Snape continuously worked on large pieces of parchment, muttering to himself while jotting down notes. It was rather odd behavior for someone who Harry normally thought of as creepy and sinister.

The only time Snape was his normal self was during Occlumency lessons. The Professor stood in front of him each evening while impatiently waiting for Potter to clear his mind the best he could. Harry seemed to be making no progress, and instead his skills seemed to be diminishing. It took Harry longer to push Snape out of his mind then it did when he had first gotten it down. "You've quite trying!" Snape had sneered the night before.

"I haven't! You're just not giving me time!" Harry knew that was a lie, but still decided to say it anyway. Snape shot Harry a nasty glare.

"Tomorrow and the day after I expect you to practice Occlumency for several hours before you arrive here; do you understand?" Harry nodded, feeling bitter. He would have to practice Occlumency on his birthday? That didn?t seem very fair, though he wisely said nothing.

On July 30th Harry sat before the cauldron cutting the ingredients carefully and wondering how his birthday would be this year. True; he had gifts to open tonight when he had time but he would have no one to spend it with, no one who cared anyway. Snape certainly wouldn't go out of his way to do anything nice for him. Harry considered asking Snape for a day off, and then brushed the thought out of his mind like a ridiculous idea. Yet it was a ridiculous idea that would not go away. It was his one special day of the year, so how could he not be expected to celebrate it at least a little?

Snape was paying absolutely no attention to Harry at the moment, presently writing all sorts of strange letters and symbols on the board as though trying to figure something out. They looked a bit like the symbols Muggles used in Chemistry and other complex mathematics and sciences, yet they were somehow different. Harry had no clue what any of them meant and didn't want to try to figure them out, so he instead returned his full concentration to his complex potion.

While Harry was slicing the ginger root for the potion, the knife slipped and bit into his palm; cutting through the skin. Raising his hand to examine it, he saw that he'd sliced himself fairly well, and was now bleeding extreme amounts for such a small wound. The amount startled Harry, who watched in shock as the blood welled and a drop landed in the potion and caused it to hiss and spit everywhere. Snape's attention turned back to the disaster at hand, shooting Harry an evil glare before asking, "What happened?"

"My blood fell into the cauldron," Harry said, and as he spoke his blood flowed more steadily onto the floor.

"Evanesco!" Snape waved his wand and the ruined potion disappeared. The Professor turned his attention back to Harry, who was struggling to wrap the fabric of his sleeve around the wound. The blood wasn't stopping; still seeping, even through the thick material. "How badly did you cut yourself?" Snape asked in an odd voice.

"I didn't think it was that bad," Harry confessed. The site of all this blood was making Harry feel a bit nauseous.

"Oh for crying out loud," Snape said, seeing Harry's green face. He pointed his wand at the wound and muttered a spell that magically bound the wound in a bandage, and proceeded to give him a potion. Harry looked at it questioningly. "It's a blood replenisher and a coagulant," he snapped

"Why won't it stop bleeding on its own?"

"A side effect of the disease you have is hemophilia."

"So you mean that my blood is incapable of clotting on its own?"

"For the most part. You could bleed to death from a simple wound such as that one if it goes unattended long enough."

"That's a happy thought," Harry muttered. Snape said nothing, just returned to his desk. "Do you want me to start over?" Harry asked.

"No, you may leave. Make sure to be back for Occlumency and try to clear your mind before coming, Potter. You are doing abysmally for one whom at one time managed to expel me from you're mind."

Snape spoke smoothly and dismissively, yet Harry wanted to spit something in reply. He wanted to yell at the Potions Master, to scream his bloody lungs out. An unsurpassable amount of anger had just found its way inside his mind and he suddenly wanted to bash the Potions Master's face in. Harry actually had no reason to feel this sudden surge of hatred; he should be used to receiving such insults from the teacher? So why was he suddenly feeling the contempt that had lain almost dormant inside of his emotions recently? Harry had the sudden, sneaking suspicion that these feelings belonged to another, fed only by recent events.

Harry left the room hurriedly, wanting to get away from anyone before Voldemort found his way into Harry's mind completely. Although it was very doubtful that that could possibly happen, Harry wanted to be alone to get his mind under his own control.

Harry ran into his room and locked the door. Sitting on the bed in a cross-legged position, he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing steadily. "Clear my mind," he told himself, and at the mere mental command, the thoughts seemed to melt away, and he felt his mind become clearer. And then, a thought entirely not his own entered his mind: snake eyes flashed behind his own, and a mirthless laughter echoed in his skull. Harry let go of his cleared state of mind, and memories flooded into his conscious mind. All of his thought, his emotions came back, and the voice within his head was listening.

"Dying, Potter?" Voldemort's voice hissed. "How interesting. However, that is not the death I desire for you to suffer."

"Shut up!" Harry yelled, but the voice continued.

"No, I want you to suffer at my own hand. Even if I must cure you myself I will be the one to kill you; no other has the right. My own hand will kill you Potter, in the end."

"No!" Harry screamed, and the voice laughed in response. Harry opened his eyes, and yet he could see nothing but darkness and the snake eyes peering into his own. "No! Leave me alone!"

Harry felt cold hands seize him. "Focus Potter!" Snape's voice commanded through the haze of his mind. "Push him out!"

"You can't save him, Snape; I'll control him eventually. It is inevitable." The words spoke through Harry's own mouth though he tried to stop them. He tried to push the other mind away from his own, but was so weak compared to it. Harry felt a wand tip placed to his temple and as voice whispered an unknown incantation, he felt the presence slip out of his mind and Harry's world went black as he collapsed against the bed.

"What time 's it?" Harry asked. He had not yet opened his eyes, and yet he knew from the cool cloth being placed on his burning forehead that someone else was in the room with him.

"It is 1:00 in the morning on the first day of August," Snape's calm voice replied.

"I missed my own birthday," Harry mumbled so quietly that he was confident Snape had not heard him. Yet the professor, who had developed a keen sense of hearing, heard every word, and although he absolutely refused to admit it, he felt sorry for the boy. No one should miss their one special day of the year. But Harry didn't know Snape had heard, and drifted back into his deep sleep where he was safe from Voldemort and all the other worries of the world.

It was near noon when Harry awoke again, this time alone in his room. He felt better, but his mind was still foggy. He had only a vague memory of being told what day it was, and was depressed at having been unconscious on his own birthday. It was gone, and you never get your sixteenth birthday but once in a lifetime. 'After all, how many more will you have?' a rogue thought voiced in his mind. Harry dismissed the voice, preferring not to think of that possibility.

Harry got up and onto his feet. He felt a bit lightheaded at first, but after taking a step forward, the feeling faded away and left a pang in his stomach that had to be reckoned with. He was surprised at the hunger; it had only been two days without food while the Dursleys' normally made him go much longer. Then again, the well-prepared meals at Hogwarts had spoiled him recently.

Harry snapped his fingers and Dobby appeared at the summons.

"Is Harry Potter sir hungry?" Dobby squeaked. Without waiting for an answer, Dobby said decisively, "Dobby will fetch you lunch!" and disappeared. Harry was slightly relieved at not needing to open his mouth for the House Elf, and seconds later Dobby was back with a plate of food.

"Thanks, Dobby." Harry said gratefully.

"Dobby is always happy to help Harry Potter," Dobby smiled his toothy smile. "Dobby must go help clean the castle, Harry Potter, but Dobby hopes to speak to Harry Potter again soon!"

Harry finished him meal quickly, gulping down large amounts of food to satisfy his hunger. While eating, Harry made a decision that he hoped would improve his odds, and once finished he dressed and ventured to Snape's office. He found the door closed and silence on the other side. Hesitantly, he knocked. "Enter," Snape said, so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear it. He opened the door and took a tentative step inward, not sure if he wanted to be alone with the Potions Master should he happened to be in a particularly nasty mood. "What do you want, Potter? Snape asked distractedly, never looking up from his work.

"I was thinking…"

"How unusual…" Snape muttered. Harry glared, then realized that Snape was not talking about him, but something he was looking at on his desk. He glowered but pressed on. "I was thinking about what happened two days ago, when Voldemort tried to take control of my mind."

"Don't say his name," Snape hissed, his eyes fixed on Harry's face in a fierce glare. "And what about it?"

"What did you do to get rid of him? How did you free my mind from his?"

"Occlumency," Snape sneered, as though Harry should have known the answer all along.

"I don't want that to happen again," Harry whispered desolately. "I don't like having him in my head. Someone could get hurt the next time it happens. I- I thought I had blocked him at first, but then he just, took control."

Snape nodded, never taking his eyes from Harry's face.

"You blocked him temporarily; your mind told me as much. You did, considerably well considering your abysmal performance during Occlumency lessons. You must first build up your endurance, and then your power in the skill will increase."

"I want to get better at it," he said, staring fiercely into the unblinking black eyes. "I want to free myself from his mind forever."

"So you want to practice now?" Snape asked, standing up from his desk and drawing his wand.

"Yes," Harry answered, fishing his out of his pocket. The movement looked so clumsy compared to the swift and gentle motion of Snape drawing his own. "All right then; one, two, three! Legilemens!"

Harry's mind was a whirlwind of emotions once more. Voldemort was cackling over him in the dungeon, laughing at Harry's misery. Harry saw his parents, telling him it was not his time to die. "Focus," Harry berated himself; and he began to try to push the thoughts away from his mind. The visions cleared slowly at first, memories still melting one into another, until they completely faded away.

"Took you long enough," Snape said, minus the usual sneer. "Shall we try again?"

Harry nodded. He took a deep breath and pushed all thoughts out of his conscious mind. "Clear," he thought. He heard Snape mutter the spell. For a brief moment it felt almost the same as it did when Voldemort tried to pry into his mind; his head was pounding and felt about to split open at the scar. He pushed the memories away, and Snape dove further into his mind, trying to breach his defensive wall. Harry's mind held fast for a moment, although the effort was physically exhausting and then Harry's mind walls collapsed, and the memories flooded so fast and heavy that Harry was flung on his back from the force

"You did well," Snape remarked. "Your will has improved, and with it your power to clear your mind."

"I guess all I needed was an incentive," Harry replied. Snape nodded slowly.

"I believe you need a break," Snape said, surprising Harry immensely. "Go to the library and find a book on rare healing herbs and research three forms of healing flowers. You have two days to finish the assignment. The book is in the front of the library; the third stack of books, on the second to the bottom shelf. Don't give me that look; I know you snuck in there recently." Harry nodded and left the room, tired from his mind exercises, but invigorated with success.

Harry entered the library and found the book exactly where Snape said it would be; an extremely large, old book with musty smelling, dog-eared pages and corners that looked as if a mouse had nibbled on them. He sat down at a table and began looking for healing flowers. The book wasn't in any specific order, with the plants spread throughout the book. While flipping through the pages, one picture jumped out at him, different from all the others:

"The Ponere Plant is said to give insight to the consumer. Brewed in a special potion to help the consumer find answers, the potion and the plant itself has faded into almost nonexistence. The one location where the Ponere plant can still be found is outside of a cave located in Ireland. The absolute location of the cave is unknown, although it is thought to be hidden by leprechauns. Legend has it that wizards were using the plant to find solutions to everyday problems and misusing the plant. The effects of the ponere plant can be lethal if the plant is overused within a short span of time."

Harry was intrigued, and thought that this sounded an awful lot like it dealt with the stone that he had found. He knew that he had to find out more of the cave. Harry ran through the library, searching for books on caves and ancient structures. He came across three immediately, and after scanning them briefly, found that none had the cave in it.

Finally, near the end of the library after seemingly hours of searching, Harry found a thick, old book on a shelfthat looked to be in almost the same condition as the other one had been. He flipped through the pages until he found an almost identical picture to the one in the Herbal book and took it back to his seat, studying both pictures, and then reading the columns beside. "The Cave of Revelations, as it has come to be known, is said to be the answer to all questions. Unlocked by a key that few can use or even find, its location has been hidden from the world for may generations, remaining in the deepest regions of Wizarding folklore. Much information about the cave was lost in the year 1752, after a society tried to prevent the cave from ever being discovered. In wizard-lore, the cave can be opened by one person alone. This person shall once again reunite the key and the cave, and find the answer to saving the wizarding world."

Harry reread the paragraph, stunned by what he read. It all fit; the cave, the plant, and the key would all reveal the answer to win the war. He wanted to read more, but his mind was reeling with information and for now, he simply gathered the two books and went back to his room.

Harry looked at the parcels waiting to be opened on his bedside table, and thought in dismay of his missed birthday. Not that it had ever been a special occasion, really. It was just that he felt odd, having missed it. He normally stayed up until midnight on his birthday; the act had become almost traditional for him. He opened them one by one, unwrapping gifts for his broom, although he still couldn't fly it for the time being, several tricks from the Weasley twins, an alarm clock from Hermione, although he really couldn't say that he enjoyed the annoyingly loud chime, and several other gifts from adults. Finally, Harry saw one last gift on the table. It was wrapped in black paper, and there was no label on it. Harry felt almost hesitant opening it. He knew that Moody would have advised against it, and yet he wanted so badly to open the gift.

Harry carefully unwrapped one corner of the paper, holding the parcel ridiculously far from his face with his arms. Nothing happened, so Harry opened each corner as slowly as the one before it so that there would be no surprises. The paper fell off, revealing the contents of the gift. "The Power of the Mind: Wandless Magic and Occlumency for Gifted Wizards."

The book intrigued him he had to admit, for it looked extremely interesting. He opened the front cover, and read what was written inside: "Potter, Thought you might find this interesting if not helpful. S. Snape." Short and simple, and yet the message said enough. Harry could hardly believe his eyes. Snape had practically given him a birthday gift. Harry put the book down on the bed beside him, and couldn't help but think 'This certainly was a birthday to remember.'

A/n: I know, took long enough, huh? ;-) sorry about that. Please r/r.

Ponere means "to make clear, reveal, disclose" in latin, if anyone was wondering.