Chapter 5 – Wicked Sister #1
It was another room, this one had no apparent walls, no ground to stand, no ceiling, but somehow Harry knew it was a room. It was pitch black, but the darkness wasn't oppressive. He felt warm, cared for, and in an act of pure reflex, smiled. He started walking, looking everywhere for any sign of an exit. After some minutes, he saw a small pinpoint of light pierce the darkness, and started walking towards it.
As he approached, Harry noticed that the light came from an object floating on nothing but air. It was a large piece of parchment, as yet unwritten, and the glow was coming from it, denoting some heavy charms bound to the paper.
Suddenly, from the darkness surrounding him, a huge black dog approached running.
Sirius.
He transformed back to human near the paper. Harry ran, trying to grab him in a strong hug, but his hands passed through him. He then he tried to call, to scream, but no words came from his mouth.
As Harry started to cry, a powerful magical sound cut through the blackness of his own emotions. A phoenix appeared in a circle of fire, flying over their heads.
Fawkes.
Sirius looked up and smiled, nodding slightly. Fawkes let a feather fall from her tail, and it landed precisely on Sirius' right hand. He opened his left hand, and with the sharp tip of the quill, he opened a thick gash on his hand, drawing blood. When the blood pooled enough on the palm, he wetted the tip on it and started writing on the parchment. He wrote a few letters, but as he was writing, he started vanishing, going transparent with each passing moment. After a few seconds, he disappeared entirely, letting the quill drop to the parchment.
Harry screamed, his voice finally returning. "SIRIUUUUUSS!"
Fawkes started singing, Harry's despair and fear dispersing quickly, and he felt himself waking up to the real world. Before the dreamscape vanished entirely, he managed to read what Sirius had written on the parchment.
'I hereby swear my pledge to the Light. . .'
Harry woke up in a tangled mess, his covers and pillow, plus his own pajamas were so mixed up together that he almost used magic to free himself. Calming down from the still vivid dream, he looked to the window and the light coming from the rising sun outside. At least the nightmare came pretty early in the morning, and not in the middle of the night.
The young wizard stopped to review his own thoughts. This last one wasn't exactly a nightmare, it seemed almost as a vision, the parchment being a clue to something.
"I hereby swear my pledge to the Light. . ." Harry repeated in a murmur, and he had the distinct impression that he heard Fawkes singing somewhere.
That was odd all on itself. He should be feeling worse since Sirius' death, but somehow the events of the last couple days were acting as some sort of buffer to the feeling of loss. Harry sighed, and suddenly remembered that he had fallen down on the bed and gone to sleep, victim of last night's 'family moments' without even opening the letters Hedwig had brought.
He picked up the pile from the ground, and opened the first one, the reply from the Weasley twins. It was written in good quality parchment, the three W from the logo clearly on display on the right uppermost corner. But all the class had only two lines:
We're on it.
F&G.
The simple answer brought a smile to Harry's face. It was quite serious, very different from Fred and George usual manners, but it meant that he had placed his trust in the right persons, perhaps for the first time in his life.
He actually squashed the thought, he had placed his trust in a lot of people, and so far the only one to truly betray it had been Dumbledore himself. The old headmaster might actually have been right, but he did something inexcusable, he took the decision of the person most affected by such decisions, Harry himself.
Shaking his head, he picked up another letter, this one from Ron. Expecting another letter filled with Quidditch and the upcoming time to pick him up, he was actually surprised with it.
Dear brother Harry,
I actually surprised you with this, didn't I? But there it is, I said it, I think you are my brother in every single way that counts. This last month served to prove me that, so I just read the first paragraph of that long winded stupid excuse that you called a letter for something completely out of your control. I went because I wanted to.
Harry, I would follow you to hell and back if you asked me. Bugger, I will follow you to Hell even if you don't want to, and let me tell you something, knowing Voldemort and his cronies it won't be the last time, or the worse that we'll face.
And yes, Harry, I'll pound it in this thick skull of yours, we will face it together. All the time, all the way. And yes, I can say his name, and I can write his name. Heck, I've been practicing telling his name in front of the mirror. Mum thinks I've lost my marbles or something, and she threatened to remove the mirror and lock me in until I stopped.
She actually didn't do it, and after a few hours, I gained an ally, Ginny.
She stood there with me, and she started doing the same thing, calling him Voldemort, or Tom. And you know what else? She talked about her experiences regarding the diary and the Chamber. She cried, she screamed, but I guess that in the end she started healing, as for me, I stopped flinching, I stopped fearing and I started hating him.
He made too many suffer, Harry, and that is something I want stopped as much as you do. So, let me point out a few things:
We all love you, mate, you're family, now and forever.
I'm forever in debt to you for saving my sister's life in the Chamber.
You'll always have a friend in me, and I'll always be at your side, no matter what.
Tom is going to die, Harry, and I'll help you finish him.
Sirius didn't die because of you, he died because Voldemort is a madman.
Percy is a prat, he still hasn't talked with Mum or Dad, even after Voldie's little showdown at the Ministry.
Just to prove that I haven't gone nuts or that someone else wrote this damned letter, you better prepare yourself for some serious training, I want to end this year handing the cup to McGonagall once again, and Dumbledore told us he's planning to keep you there the least time as possible.
As for visiting, Mum and Dad are worried on us leaving home grounds for any reason, so don't expect much. Perhaps if you could sneak an invisibility cloak in your next letter, I believe that you could have some visitors sooner than you think.
Harry smiled, thinking on how to pack his cloak the next time.
And I'm ending my part of the letter here, for some reason there is an annoying little sister wanting to have a few words with you as well, and she decided to 'borrow' my letter to you to do this.
So, until the next time, take care,
Your brother, Ron.
P.S.: It's actually nice having a brother with a different hair color, red is becoming boring around here.
Harry shed a tear of happiness over the letter, Ron was as thick as they came, but he had his moments of insight. Perhaps that brain creature had helped him in some way, because he would never expect a letter like this from him. Or perhaps he was growing up.
Harry laughed with the thought, and kept on reading, the hastily scribbled words giving place to a flowing calligraphy.
Dear beloved brother,
Hi, Ginny here. As the big prat pointed out, all of us younger Weasleys consider you a brother, myself included. The older ones consider you a son, so there.
With this, I must make another revelation and forgive me if I don't have the guts to tell you face to face.
I love you, Harry.
Harry's eyes goggled, and his heart started beating so fast he couldn't count the beatings.
Don't go into a panic now, Harry, I will explain, and you are safe from me.
I loved you as you are thinking right now since even before I met you. When you saved me in the Chamber, somehow the silly crush turned into something else, and I believe I can call it hero worship now. You may be our savior, but you saved me at that moment, Harry, and that was all that mattered. So, I kept on dwelling on this feeling for a long time, and last year I noticed something, that I cared more about you as someone that I could call a friend than someone I could call the love of my life.
As you've read from Ron, I've finally talked with someone about what happened at the Chamber and I'm finally healing from the ordeal.
Heck, in the shape things are, I'll miss our annual Voldemort face-off once we kick his arse once and for all.
That transformed the grin he was wearing into a face-splitting, tooth-eating brilliant smile.
What I wanted to say is, I'm glad in being your friend and loving you as a sister loves a brother, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, or a girlfriend (emphasis on the friend part) to discuss women problems, feel free to search for me.
Besides, I think you'll need some help in the relationship department, you're as clumsy as my brother is.
And I think that I can fit easily under that invisible cloak as well, so start packing the damn thing.
So, I'll finish this multiple hands letter by pointing out the exact same things as Ron did (it bears repeating):
We all love you, Harry, you're family, now and forever.
I'm forever in debt to you for saving my life in the Chamber.
You'll always have a friend in me, and I'll always be at your side, no matter what.
Tom is going to die, Harry, and I'll help you finish him.
Sirius didn't die because of you, he died because Voldemort is a madman.
Percy is a huge prat, he still hasn't talked with Mum or Dad, even after Voldie's little showdown at the Ministry.
I love you, my dear brother. Take good care, and don't let the Dursleys bother you too much.
With love, Ginny.
P.S.: Differently from Ron, I did read the letter you sent to me, and I must point out something, if you ever excuse yourself to me for something that wasn't your fault, you'll have a taste of my patented Bat Bogey Hex, up close and personal.
Harry's grin grew even bigger, if it was even possible. The next one was the reply from Remus Lupin.
Dear Harry,
Let me assure you, I don't blame you for Sirius' death, never did, never will. If anything, I guess we all share some of the blame, by not taking different actions in the past. But what is done is done, and unfortunately, not even the strongest wizard can bring someone back from the dead.
I feel that I probably owe you an apology as well, since we've known each other I maintained my distance from you, and by doing that I think I am somehow betraying the trust that James and Lily put in me. This ends now, and I intend to make up for all the time we've been away. I don't want to take the place of Sirius, nothing of the sort, but I guess you need someone older to talk to, that is a role I intend to assume.
So, I guess we'll meet right after the full moon, and don't worry, I know the muggle way to behave myself, Lily was a good teacher and a fair slave master on the subject.
Until next time, your friend,
Moony
Harry put the letter aside for a moment, smiling lightly on the obvious 'slave master' joke. Last one was Hermione's, and for some strange reason, his heart started beating faster when he unfolded the parchment.
Fear of a scolding, perhaps? Hers was the only one where he actually expanded something of his future plans, not that he didn't trust the others, but outside from Hogwarts and the limitations placed on them by circumstances, they were almost worthless during vacation. Hermione could use a computer and go to a muggle library with ease, and she knew about the muggle ways of making war. She might not be a specialist on the matter, but this had never stopped her before.
Acting on his famed Gryffindor courage, he started reading.
Dear Harry,
Knowing you, and after five years of friendship I can safely say that I know you, I think you sent an apology to each and every one of our close friends, and knowing them and the facts as well, you have nothing to apologize for, as they most surely assured you. And I'm repeating them, I don't blame you as well. I got hurt by my own fault, I froze before I could do a thing, and for that I am sorry. I pride myself on being the smartest witch around, and when I need my knowledge, I end up failing both myself and you, and I keep on thinking that if I did not and if you didn't need to worry about me, Sirius would perhaps still be alive.
Harry became incensed. It wasn't her fault, she had done nothing wrong, freezing in a life or death combat situation wasn't uncommon, and she had never truly been in one of those.
I know you're probably thinking it isn't my fault, and that I couldn't predict what would have happened, and you're probably right. But deep down, I think I have to share some of the blame, if someone is to blame from this, aside from Voldemort.
As for the rest that you asked of me, of course I'll help, Harry, I'm your friend, and that's what friends do, they stick to each other, no matter what. We may fight eventually, but you'll never lose my friendship, ever.
Having said that, I must point a thing out:
ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY NUTS?
Harry flinched with the full caps words, actually hearing the shouting in them.
Harry, we have enough problems without going out looking for trouble, and right now you're asking me to help you actively going to search for it? I know you've told me you have good reasons to do so, and I believe you, so I'll start something, but I want some explanations.
You can give them to me personally this next Friday, since mom and dad agreed to let me go spend the day with you.
Harry smiled, but was assaulted by a sense of foreboding. He hoped that Hermione had calmed down until Friday, if not he was in for a world of trouble.
And don't worry, I won't tell Dumbledore a thing, I want to know exactly what happened between the both of you after Sirius died before taking a decision. And before you think I'm a loudmouth, I am not, I just want to point that he is the strongest wizard we have on our side and he'll probably be the one to defeat Voldemort.
"How wrong you are, Mione. How unfortunately wrong . . ." Harry trailed off, thinking on the damned prophecy.
Before turning back to reading, he finally noticed the smell in the air. He cringed, but a smile creased his face. The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs announced that the fun was about to start.
"What did you do?" Vernon screamed, all ready to go to work, but in another amazing shade of purple.
"Did what, Uncle? I was here the entire night, besides I still can't do magic until next week. But I'm a call away from CPS," he said, hiding the smirk that was about to sprout in his face.
"Come on and take a look, you . . ." Vernon exploded, but the fear of repercussions held the diameter of the blast in check.
"Temper, Uncle, temper. You don't want to end up having a stroke, would you?" he said. "Lead the way," Harry said, to which Vernon promptly turned back and down the stairs, with all the elegance of an elephant in mating season. Harry saw his cousin downstairs shaking his head, a hand covering his nose. On the first floor, the smell was overpowering, making his eyes water. Petunia was fanning herself, eyes showing murder on them.
Vernon then opened the front door, and Harry almost retched with the smell now. Walking outside, he finally noticed what was causing the smell.
The beautiful station wagon, one of Vernon's prides and joy, the one which Harry washed and waxed almost all weekends, was covered in a huge pile of dung.
And from the looks and the smoke coming from it, it was dragon's dung.
Harry couldn't hold it anymore, and fell down, laughing.
"Deal with this, boy . . ." Vernon hissed between clenched teeth, the neighbors around, which came out of their houses to check the reason of the foul smell, giving them the evil eye.
"Sorry, Uncle, I can't. This falls down under the abusive jobs we argued about, besides, if you force me I can always make some phone calls and Ms. Cheatam promised to check on me every day," Harry said, still smiling, deflating any reply Vernon might have. "Two small things: one, this is dragon dung, too hot to handle with bare hands and a shovel might burn out quite quickly. Two," and to this, Harry's eyes hardened and Vernon gave an involuntary step back, "this is just the beginning. Payback is a wizard, Uncle Vernon."
Vernon screamed his frustration, and Harry got back inside.
"What did you do?" Dudley asked, in a surprisingly calm voice. Petunia eyed the interaction with hatred, and Harry noticed it.
"Come on up and I'll tell you," the wizard answered back, eyes focusing and reflecting the same hatred towards Petunia.
The duo climbed the stairs, and got into Harry's room. Harry finally noticed the bags of purchases on the corner of the room and smiled.
"What are those?" his cousin asked, eyeing the bags.
"Some things my lawyer bought me. Clothes that fit, some books, a cell phone, things like that."
"A cell phone? Why?" Dudley asked, clearly curious.
"I do like my privacy, Dudders. And be as it may, I still don't trust you that much to know that you won't be listening at the extension, and I definitely don't trust Uncle Vernon."
"That's fair, I guess. Mum and Dad told me what happened last night, in their perspective. How did it really go?"
That surprised Harry.
"Can I ask you a question, and do you promise to answer it as best as you can?"
"If I can, sure."
"Why, Dudley? Why did you change so much? The forgiveness I can try to understand, but being nice to me and trying to befriend me I cannot. I mean, you can only change so much, and you still are your parent's son, and I don't believe that being my friend will earn any brownie points with them."
Dudley looked to him, sighed and looked down.
"You're right, you know. A man can only change so much, but a man can learn forever, if he's willing. I think I never learned something in my life, Harry, just how to be a spoilt buffoon, with more fat than sense, and then comes a young woman, who has everything to fear from me and she puts some sense in my head. I guess that her slap made the old gray matter start working. Plus, the talk with the shrink helped lots, and I want to be able to hear my sons tell what a great father I am without having to buy thirty-odd presents to them per birthday. Money does not a father make, love does, and I must say I didn't know what it was until. . ."
"Him," Harry concluded.
"Yeah. I don't know if we'll end up together forever or if I do truly swing that way, we've been only snogging so far, but I feel happy at his side for now."
"Okay, I think I can understand that. One other thing, did you knew about the money?"
"Money? What money?" Dudley asked, curious.
Harry noticed that he wasn't lying, he was clearly curious about it. "Apparently, when I was given for your parents to raise, they were set up with a trust fund to pay for my well being."
Dudley looked to him curiously. "It should have been very little money, shouldn't it? I mean, look how . . ." and he trailed off, suddenly realizing what Harry was telling.
"No, Dudley, it was a small fortune. It paid for the gifts, the food, the house, the car and everything else that you see around you," Harry said, opening his arms as to encompass the entire house.
Dudley's mouth fell, and his eyes reflected some emotions Harry wasn't sure he had ever seen in the huge boy. After a time, it fixed on something that Harry knew quite well, disappointment.
"I guess I always knew, somehow. I mean, I've never checked my father's salary or anything, but I guess that he didn't always have the money he used to spend with me. And who am I to judge him? Last year I was bullying small kids for pocket money, I am no better than he is," Dudley said.
Harry stood up after a few seconds, and patted him in the back. Dudley could be everything, but one thing he clearly wasn't, and that was a good actor.
"Look, it is only money. To be honest, I never minded about it, but what pisses me off is that at least they could have given me some care, you know? I wasn't feeding from their pockets, I wasn't spending their money, it was the reverse actually. So, why did they hate me?"
Dudley looked to him. "I guess it was a group of things. Envy from my mother, fear from my father, fear that I would be 'contaminated'" he said, making the signs with his hands, "by you, I think. I can't say, and I don't truly know. But things change, Harry, if they didn't I wouldn't be here having this conversation with you."
Harry sat down again and Dudley looked outside. "Look, I have to think about this, okay? Can we continue this later?"
"Sure," Harry said, and Dudley left.
He picked Hermione's letter again and started where he had stopped.
Plus one other thing, I might not have access to Hogwarts now, but I do have access to the library at HQ. It is not so complete, but I guess that I can find some things there. Besides, a muggle library must have something worth reading in these subjects, if there is anything they're good at is how to go to war against each other.
So, I guess this is it, for now. I miss you, Harry, and I know you must be feeling pretty lonely, but don't worry, I'll be there soon and before you realize, you'll be out of here and back with us.
Don't ever give up on hope, because we never did, and never will.
With love,
Hermione
Harry found out that he was smiling when he finished her letter, it meant that he had, at least temporarily an ally to fulfill his plans. With the help from Immie, the twins and Hermione, he at least had a fighting chance.
He then picked up Neville's message, it was almost the same from the others, saying that he didn't blame Harry from what had happened, and that he was actually quite happy with his new wand, and that his Grandmother was taking him out of the country for a while, before their sixth year started.
Luna's was an exercise in understanding, her writing was perhaps crazier than her normal attitude, but Harry managed to understand that she was well, and working at the Quibbler during their vacation, to help her father.
He finished the letters and left them at his desk, and decided to check his purchases. First, he opened the cell phone box, and after reading the instructions, put the small device to charge the battery. Attached to the box was a small note, with a few phone numbers.
Harry,
This is my own cell number, the home number and the office. The last number is to Hermione's house. I know you didn't ask me that, but since she's the one muggleborn you have the most need to talk to, here it is.
Anything you need, feel free to call me.
Immie.
He smiled, and left the note to a side. He then proceeded to check the clothes she had bought to him. Some jeans, a few t-shirts, shorts, underwear, socks, some tennis shoes, boots, two belts, four sweatpants, four sweatshirts, a leather coat, pajamas, she had bought quite a variety of everything, in more common tones, nothing too weird or garish. He eventually found another note.
This is more or less what you asked, I used some common sense for colors, but there are a few things still missing for a good wardrobe, but I guess you can manage with what you have here till you can go shopping by yourself.
Standing up, he went to the bathroom for a quick shower. It was good to be clean to use his new clothes.
Three hours later, he was reading the first notebook on animagus transformation when the front door bell rang. He stood up, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and went down to open the door, since the house was empty. He looked through the eyehole, and smiled when he recognized the face on the other side, promptly opening the door.
"Immie," he said, smiling. The lawyer and the other woman she had with her were looking to the car parked on the driveway.
"What happened to the car, Harry?" Imogen asked, a slight smile creasing her face.
"Somehow, tonight, a dragon made a flyby over the neighborhood, and I guess the glare from the well-waxed vehicle offended him, and he used it as target for some natural smelly bombs," he said, trying to sound as neutral as possible.
It was a sight to behold. Vernon had used the garden hose to wash the droppings away, but it had taken too long to clean the station wagon. The paint was burned beyond recognition, flaking and peeling everywhere, the glasses were opaque from the heat, one of them was even broken, the tires were four mounds of rubber, and the smell was still present in the air. The only place where the car would go was the scrap yard.
"Remind me to never piss you off," the strange woman spoke, the American accent clear in her voice.
"Ah, Harry, sorry, I forgot the introductions. Harry Potter, this is Mackenzie Xavier, your Occlumens teacher. Mackenzie, this is Harry Potter," Imogen said, and the woman stretched her hand, which Harry promptly took.
"Hi there," she started. "Since Immie here seems to forget, I generally don't answer to Mackenzie. I'm Mac to my friends. Or Charlie, if you want to be a smartass," she said, smiling.
Harry finally looked the woman from head to toe. She was smaller than he was, going at five foot six, around 170 pounds, muscular, with a very impressive chest encased in a tight t-shirt sporting the name Sex Pistols, whatever it was, with light blue eyes, and dark blood red hair, probably not her original color. She was beautiful, and her smile was making funny things to his brain. He ogled her for quite a while, before his brain decided to do something about it.
"Er. . . hum . . . hi. Arhh . . . er. Ah, bugger," he said, shaking his head and clearing it enough to answer. "S-sorry, you must think I'm a moron. Let's start again. Hi, Harry Potter," he said, still grabbing her hand and replying the smile she gave him. "And sorry, but 'Charlie'?"
The smile diminished a little on her side, and he finally released her hand. "Yes, and I must say you failed your first test, Mr. Harry James Potter, of number four Privet Drive, whose best friend is named Hermione, she has bushy hair and she is coming here next Friday. Whose other best friend is named Ron, has red hair and a sister named Ginny, and think of you as a brother and she as a sister. And Charlie is a nickname, ever heard of an American comic book named the X-Men? If you didn't, it will take far too long to explain while standing here. Can we come in?"
Harry's mouth fell down, he hadn't even felt her probe.
"Sure, please," he replied in a flat voice.
They entered the house, and Harry invited them to sit down.
"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Mr. Potter, it wasn't my intention. It was just to prove that I'm not just a beautiful face and that you can't drop your shields if something," she said, and stuffed her chest for effect, "grabs your attention."
"You're right," he said sheepishly after a few moments, and reddened a bit, "besides it was rude on my part. For that, I'm sorry. And no Mr. Potter here, Harry, if you please."
"No need for an apology, I've grown accustomed to the reaction, and I usually use it for my own benefit. People either think I'm too young or too beautiful to be a good Occlumens teacher, so I distract them for a few seconds and prove my point, as I did you, Harry."
"So, I'm a failure?" he asked, with a smile.
"A perfect one," she laughed. "Nobody resisted before."
Imogen remained silent for the entire introduction. Harry needed to form his own opinion about Mac, and so far it looked as it was going just fine.
"Okay, Mac, I think Imogen told you about my problem. What can you do about it?" Harry asked, bluntly.
"Kill your previous professor seems like a good idea for now. I grasped a bit of what he did with my brief intrusion, and what he did is considered criminal by the Legilimency Legislation Committee."
"There is such a thing?" Harry asked, surprised.
"In America there is, and it's an adaptation of the legislation that the British Ministry created even longer ago."
Harry stood up, fuming. Mac lifted a hand and stopped him for a second. "First lesson of occlumency, holding your feelings with nothing but a whisper is the perfect path for doom. Being pissed off for now will accomplish nothing. I'll deal with him when the time comes, now sit back down, please."
The young wizard did, and after a few moments, calmed down. "Another lie," he murmured.
"I think I need to explain what I intend to do and what I intend to teach you, so we can come to an understanding, okay?"
"Sure," Harry said.
"Occlumency and its companion, Legilimency, are two arts dedicated to the study of the mind. That's how it started, and unfortunately, somewhere in time it took a wrong turn and ended up being a tool to find out the secrets buried in someone's mind. During the several wars that happened in the Wizarding world, a good legilimens was more valuable than his own weight in gold. He was the perfect spy, for all the right and wrong reasons. Anyone could be one, a small boy, the hooker that sold her services to the enemy side, no one knew until it was too late. The only defense was the art known as Occlumency, the art of shielding one's mind against invasion.
"When the peaceful times finally came, Legilimency was carefully studied and a set of rules was created so that way a Legilimens who abused his own powers could be judged and dealt with. That was what I was referring to. Your previous professor simply ignored the set rules and what he did was effectively mind rape you."
Harry nodded to her explanation.
"What I intend to do to you first is to repair the damage that the man did, then I'll help you with some mind cleaning techniques, then we'll organize your mind so you can hide your thoughts and memories properly, and finally I will teach you how to block any invasion you might end up suffering. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good," Harry agreed, "but I do have some questions. First, why won't you teach me Legilimency?"
Mac became guarded. "Why would you need to learn it?" she asked, neutrally.
"Honestly, I don't, but I have this link with Voldemort, I could use it to learn his plans," Harry replied honestly.
Mac relaxed slightly. "Good answer and good question. From what Imogen told me, Voldemort is an accomplished Legilimens, and probably an accomplished Occlumens, he would be too stupid not to be, and I don't actually believe he is. So, if I taught you Legilimency, it would be a wasted effort for the reason you provided, because he could probably block you as you will be able to block him. Besides, I think that the link is something outside the boundaries of the two arts."
"That means I won't ever be able to block him?"
"Most of the time, yes, I believe you will, but I think the link is too strong to be completely overcome by occlumency. You'll always feel something coming from him, but I think you'll be perfectly able to discern what's real from what is fabricated. And one last thing, Legilimency is not taught by a private tutor, at least not one worthy of the title of Master Occlumens, we follow a pretty straight set of rules, and I couldn't possibly teach you how to invade a mind outside of a controlled environment."
"Okay, understood. Another question, I noticed you picked up some fresh memories, but you could have dug deeper and I would never have noticed. Why?"
"Privacy is another thing a Legilimens must learn to understand and respect. Teaching Occlumency does not mean I have to invade all your thoughts, it means that I can invade your mind. If I can see the stronger memories, meaning the younger ones, it means that I can effectively enter your mind. If you learn properly and are strong enough to withstand it, I should only be able to either see the barrier or be expelled from your mind."
"But I think I won't be able to block everything at first, so you'll have complete access to my memories?"
"Before you order your mind, yes. After you do so, no, I will be blocked by the layers of them. But don't worry, one of the first things I'll teach you is to form a mental 'no'. If you don't want me to see something, just project the no and I'll stop. It will also mean that you have failed in blocking me, but I won't have invaded your privacy."
Harry mused for a while. "Another question, and I must point that I'm willing to pay for the extra teaching, would you mind teaching some friends of mine as well?"
"Who are they?" Mac asked.
"For now, the ones you mentioned, Hermione and Ron. The reasons why I will explain later. Do you agree?"
"Sure, I've already cleaned my agenda to deal with you, Harry, so I don't see any trouble."
"You've dealt with her having a place to stay and her commission?" Harry finally asked Imogen.
"Sure, it's been taken care of."
"Well then, welcome to the madness that is my life, Professor," Harry said, smiling and extending his hand.
"If you call me Professor again, I'll seriously think on hurting ya. I told ya, call me Mac or Charlie," she said, shaking his hand.
"Okay . . . Mac. When do we start?"
"How about now? Or do you have anything better to do?"
Harry smiled and stood up. "No, nothing better. So, why don't we adjourn my room?"
Mac smiled, and quipped. "Forward, eh? But lemme warn ya, I don't swing this way, Harry."
Harry reddened. "Oh, joy," he sighed. "Another one. . ."
Mac bristled. "I'm canceling my tutoring, effectively now. Good luck in finding another teacher, Mr. Potter. Imogen, a pleasure," she said, turning away and preparing to leave.
Harry was so surprised that he almost froze, but the panic he suddenly felt made him act without thinking, and he grabbed her shoulder.
The occlumens reacted without a thought, grabbing the hand and locking it in place with her own. She twisted the body at the hip and Harry was flung through the air, landing painfully on the center table of the living room, breaking several of Petunia's knick knacks.
"Don't EVER touch me against my will, Mr. Potter," she said, furious, and kept on walking to the front door.
She opened it, and before anyone else could do a thing, she was stunned.
Mac came back to her senses, and promptly checked for her wand.
"Calm down," Imogen said from a side, holding her wand in her opened hand. "Can you at least wait a moment and talk before you walk out of that door?"
"Who stunned me?" Mac asked, looking to a downcast Harry.
"That'd be me, lass," said a grizzled looking wizard in the background, with a roving magical eye and a wooden leg, wand in hand but pointed down.
"Why?"
"You attacked Harry here, and we protect him. Be glad I didn't do anything worse to ya," he growled.
"You protect a bigot like him? Great bunch of wizards you are . . ." Mac said, grabbing her wand from Immie.
Harry looked up from her comment. "Wait up. Bigot?"
Mac looked at him with murder in her eyes. "Don't play the saint with me, Mr. Potter. That 'another one' comment was quite understood. You don't like homosexuals, so don't expect me to work for you."
Harry was surprised, but suddenly hardened his eyes. "You won't, but so that we can understand one another and you don't part thinking bad of me, I'm authorizing you to enter my mind. I'll show you a memory that I think will explain my comment, which had nothing of offensive."
Mac was stunned with the tone and decided to comply. She pointed her wand to him and whispered "Legilimens".
In a moment, she had unrestricted access to his mind, and in the forefront was a memory of a meeting between Harry and a very fat teenager, of about the same age. She heard the entire conversation, her face registering her shock.
When the conversation ended, she exited his mind.
"What can I say that will earn your forgiveness, Mr. Potter?" she said, in a low voice.
"One 'I'm sorry' is enough, Ms. Xavier. For someone calling herself a Master Occlumens, you sure do have a short fuse," he said, in a neutral tone.
"Then I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but I do have a short fuse, regarding some situations. One is my sexuality, I am happy as I am and no one has nothing to do with it, and two is the ones I consider family, you do not touch the Wicked Sisters with bad intentions and live to tell the tale."
"'Wicked Sisters'?" Harry asked, curious.
"I am one of triplets, plus we have a younger sister, older than you are and we're fiercely protective of one another. So, I guess this is it, Mr. Potter," she said, standing up.
"Wait up, Ms. Xavier. Do you still think I'm a bigot?" Harry asked, concerned.
"No, I think I did a terrible mistake and assumed something of someone I barely knew. For that, I owe you an apology."
"Okay, then all that happened was a huge misunderstanding on both parts. Care to start over?"
"No," she said, but with a slight smile. "But I can learn from my mistakes and move forward. So, can I go back to call you Harry?"
Harry smiled. "Sure, can I go back to calling you Mac? Should we shake hands or I'm in danger of becoming permanently attached to some wall?"
Mac laughed, and shook the offered hand. "No problem. Besides, I would like to meet the person that I saw, I believe I can help him some, after all I do have experience on what he's going through."
"Sure, I'll set something up. But after what happened, I want to ask a favor of you. Do not assume anything of me, I'm tired of such behavior from almost everyone around me, they either want the famous Golden Boy or the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. I can count on the fingers of one hand and not use them all the people that know only Harry."
"I'm sorry about it, Harry. Another rule of Occlumency I keep forgetting. 'No mind is alike.' Means that I can't assume anything from anybody."
"Rule to live by, lass," the wizard in the background spoke, spooking her slightly.
"And who the hell are you, old man?" Mac asked, still miffed on being stunned so easily.
"Ah, sorry Mac, he's sort of a bodyguard for me, name's Alastor Moody," Harry said, motioning to the wizard.
"Mad-Eye Moody?" Mac asked, surprised.
"You know me? Cause I surely don't remember your face," Mad-Eye said, approaching.
"One of my twins is an Arrow, she spoke about you several times. You're some sort of legend on the magical law enforcement community. I thought you were dead," she blabbered.
"Arrow?" Harry asked.
"You could call them the American version of the Aurors, but their training and focus is broader," Imogen answered.
Mac nodded. "Yeah, Wicked Sister Number Two, Eph."
"Number two? And that makes you what?" Harry asked, smiling.
"Why Harry, I don't settle for anything but the best. You are speaking with Wicked Sister Number One, Mac Xavier," she said, striking a sensuous pose.
-oOo-
"I'll be back to my patrol, Harry. I think you're safe for now," Moody said, the wooden leg making a characteristic sound on the floor.
"Moody, wait," Harry said, approaching the man. "Don't tell anything to Dumbledore, please," he whispered to him.
"Why, lad?"
"Some things happened after the battle at the Ministry, and I decided to have a more active role in my own life. Besides, what I am doing now is just trying to improve my chances, there's nothing that I'm doing here that goes against the Order's business."
"Then why aren't you training Occlumency with Snape?" Mad-Eye asked, to which Harry went red.
"What Snape did was effectively mind-rape me, Alastor. He taught me nothing, and if he had, Sirius could still be alive," Harry said, under gritted teeth.
"What are you talking about, boy?" Moody asked.
Harry looked to the two waiting women, and pushed Alastor outside. He explained what had happened during the 'tutoring' sessions he had with Snape, and the reason why the 'lessons' ended. Moody snarled loudly, the wand in his hand trembling.
"Me and the professor will have some words, Harry. If he wasn't so damned important to the Order, I'd throw the bastard in the lowest dungeon in Azkaban for some years. Now go back in, I think the ladies are waiting, hope she can teach you something worthwhile. And I do know the lawyer lady, Imogen, she's a right lass. The cases I had that went her way were clean, and she's a fair woman. And don't worry, I won't tell Dumbledore a thing for now. What you do with your free time, if it ain't stupid, it ain't my business."
"Thanks, Moody. I owe you one," Harry said, and went back in.
"Just live, lad, and all the debts are paid, fair and square," Moody said, finally hiding himself under an invisibility cloak.
Author Notes: First of all, thanks for all the reviews, good or bad I want them. Now to answer a few questions that popped on them:
jarno: The situation of the 'trust fund' set by Dumbledore will be explained a few chapters in the future.
Ellie: Dudley being gay is not set in stone right now, as I've explained in this chapter. He's happy right now with Julius, and there shall be further explanations of his situation in a few chapters.
werewolf21: Sorry dude, the chapter sizes are the responsibility of my muse. She tells me, I keep on writing till we're both satisfied.
Dark-Syaoran and others:This will be a Harry/Hermione fic, so sorry if I'm not following canon, besides I do think that the reasons for them to fall in love with each other will be explained in the coming chapters. Harry/Tonks is just a teenage boy with an attack of hormones plus an animagus wanting to shag a nice guy. It might end up happening (the shagging, that is) or it might not. It remains to be seen, besides it won't affect the outcome of the H/Hr issue.
Shadowed Rains: Thanks!
Another thing, I searched for someone who asked what AU means, and I didn't find it. AU means Alternate Universe, where things divert from canon from a set point, in my case it diverted after the ending of OOtP. Plus, I just finished reading HBP, and I will incorporate a few plot points to my story. Not many, and to those who didn't read it yet, don't worry, they will be integrated as seamlessly as possible in the story so I won't be giving away spoilers.
One last thing, thanks for the RL Mac Xavier, I do love you and Cordy. Kisses from a fan. Drop on by anytime for a chat, Mac.
BigHead.