Author's Note: Okay. Sorry for the delay. I had the LSAT. I have no idea how I did, so I've barricaded myself in my room to console myself with the fact that I probably didn't get into law school this time round. Oh well. It enabled me to write. Harry and Hermione have a conversation in this. M Hermione. H Harry.
"I think you know exactly what happened with your little coma thing." Paul said slowly as he pulled open his desk drawer. He retrieved a candle and matches and set them on his desk. "More than that, actually." Paul commented as he struck a match he glanced at Harry and touched the flame to the wick. "I believe that you not only know exactly what happened, but you purposely misled us." He sat back in his chair and regarded his charge. "What…I don't know. Maybe to protect yourself, to keep us from viewing you as different? Which is it, Harry?" Paul fell silent, allowing his look to convey his patience and steadfastness.
"I don't know what you mean." Harry said quickly. He was secretly racing through his mind, throwing up his Occlumency shields and organizing his thoughts away.
"Please don't insult my intelligence." Paul said quietly as he shifted to dim the lights a bit. "Why don't you start with the nightmare you were having?" Paul waited for Harry to respond.
Harry sat on the couch, wondering what, exactly, to say to Paul. Telling him about Bleys and a person who only existed within the covers of a book, and now, inside Harry's head, would not be an option. It could not be an option. Paul would think he was mad. Barking mad. Lockhart type mad. "Harry?" Harry looked from his hands and almost met Paul's eyes. "What was the nightmare about?" He asked quietly. "The one that caused your panic attack?"
Harry's eyes shifted to the candle on the desk. He could tell Paul about the nightmares. They would take a while to discuss and would give Paul something to think about. Harry decided to allow the nightmares and hoped it would be enough. "I was alone. There wasn't really a room or anything. Just an open space, but I knew it was inside." Harry paused and looked at the candle. The flare reminded him of the fireplace in his common room. "I heard a voice ask 'Who are you?'." He stopped and stared at the candle, watching the wax drip down one side to gather in a pool in the bottom of the holder. "I looked around and said my name. The answer seemed to amuse the voice, because it chuckled at me. It added a question. It also asked 'what are you doing'?" Harry leaned his head back against the cushions and started some of his breathing techniques to stay calm. "I don't remember if I answered that time. There were mirrors then, and even though I could see myself in them, I could also see images of myself doing things from my past. There was a mask on my face…of my face, if that makes any sense." Paul nodded. Yes, that made perfect sense. Paul thought back to the crystal ball picture and fought back a shudder. Harry had many masks. Harry's voice brought Paul's attention back to the boy. "I couldn't get it off. I tried my wand, but it broke and the two pieces rolled away under the mirrors. The mirrors disappeared and both Voldemort and Dumbledore were there and they each had all of their followers. Dumbledore and the Order and Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Flip sides of the coin and me right in the middle. They weren't on opposite sides, though…just all mixed in together as though they didn't know they were supposed to be on opposite sides. Dumbledore and Voldemort came forward and started pulling me away. The voice came back and started…provoking me, I guess." Harry said with a shrug. "He said I was causing what Dumbledore and Voldemort were doing." Paul fought not to jerk out of his chair. The voice was a he and Harry told him as much. Good. Harry continued without noticing Paul's reaction. "He said that I liked being the Boy Who Lived and encouraged the fawning over me and the mobs of people." Harry shook his head ruefully and smirked. He stopped for a minute and just breathed, wondering how to proceed. This was not the dream that had caused his panic attack and he had no idea why he had started talking about it.
"I denied his claims, of course. He told me to do something about it. The mask was growing tighter each time I talked to him. Dumbledore was talking to me about…something. I don't remember what now. Voldemort was lecturing about how to do wordless spells. The voice kept talking throughout all of it; he said I loved all the attention, the press, being Gryffindor's Little Golden Boy, Dumbledore's Little Pet." Harry had worked himself into a temper and didn't seem to be able to stop. This suited Paul just fine, as he needed to know what had happened. "I denied it. I hate all the attention I get. I don't want to be the Boy Who Lived and pretty much told him I didn't want any of it. He told me to do something about it. Something happened then." Paul wondered if Harry knew he just managed a clever play on words. "Wandless magic. The mask fell off, the chair and chains," what? "holding me disappeared, and Voldemort and Dumbledore were gone. I was worn out and just laid there, not really caring what happened." Harry refused to go further into his dreams. He already felt that he had said too much. He relaxed a bit and dropped his feet to the floor. Maybe Paul would let him go now.
"Who's he?" Paul asked in a calm voice.
"Ble-" Harry cut himself off.
Paul raised an eyebrow and fixed a rather interested look on Harry. "Sorry. Didn't catch that."
Harry shook his head and shrugged. "Nothing." He told Paul. He pulled up his legs again into Ball Harry.
"Who was it, Harry?" Paul pressed the boy. "Who was in your dream?" Paul scooted his chair closer so that he was directly in front of his patient. "Who was it?"
"I don't know." Harry mumbled under his breath. He pulled back from Paul and ran into the back of the couch. He hugged his legs closer and tried his best to disappear.
"Harry, you're insulting my intelligence again." Harry's head snapped up and he stared at Paul. Paul gave him a look. "You are lying."
"I am not!" Harry denied. He looked away from Paul. He knew it. He had said too much and now he was stuck here with Paul trying to get some answers from him. He really wanted to go back to bed. Just curl up under the blankets and ignore the rest of the world.
"I know you well enough to tell, Harry. I can tell when you're lying." Paul said quietly. "Why don't you want to tell me?" Harry only shook his head in response to Paul's question. "What are you afraid of, Harry?"
The answer left Harry's mouth before Harry was even aware of it existing. "That you won't believe me." His hand jerked up to his mouth in surprise. Paul gave him an understanding look which helped Harry to relax a bit. He lowered his hand and shook his head in bewilderment. "It's not even normal in the magical world. How could you understand? You're a Muggle."
Paul sat back at Harry's words. Something big, then. Something big was bothering Harry. Perhaps something along the lines of the visions of Voldemort. "Harry, look at me, please." Paul said as calmly as he could. Harry's eyes lifted to meet Paul's. "I'll believe you. I've learned to expect the unexpected from you. I'm not going to think you're crazy, or delusional, mental, or anything like that." He explained. "I do need to know, just in case something like this happens again." Paul looked Harry over and decided to let Harry think about that before he said anything else..
Harry settled his pillow in front of him and thought about Paul's words. Paul said that he would believe him. That was a promise, right? He shrugged and sighed. What was the worst that could happen? Locked up like Lockhart for the rest of my life. His brain contradicted him. Paul wouldn't do that. Harry shook his head. Great. I'm talking to myself and answering back! Barking mad, that's what I am. "I hope you do believe." Harry said quietly. "The truth is more fantastic than fiction in this case."
Paul smiled at Harry. "Before I met you, I only believed in science." Paul reminded him. "Do your worst."
Harry gave him a rather evil looking grin. "Would you believe that someone has been living inside one of my books for a couple thousand years? That he possessed me and took me inside my head to train me in wandless magic?"
"Yes." Paul said after a second.
Harry blinked. "Well, that was easy. Why'd you believe me?"
"The last time you told me something in that way, it not only turned out to be true, but I also got to see some Death Eaters." Paul smirked. "Besides, Professor Snape mentioned something about a book." Paul had a thoughtful look on his face. "A book actually possessed you?"
"I'm never normal." Harry said with a smile. "I'm not sure how it works, though, this book thing." Harry admitted.
"So, this person who lives in a book, possessed you and took you inside your head to train you in wandless magic?" Paul parroted Harry.
"Yeah, that's about it." Harry shrugged. "I'm amazed that you believe me." Harry looked Paul over.
"I'm going to have trust you." Paul gave him a smile. "Can you show me something you learned?" Paul watched as Harry shut down a little bit. Harry closed his eyes for a moment and held out his hand. Paul jumped as blue flames appeared on Harry's hand. He was about to dump the contents of his water bottle over Harry's hand when Harry's voice stopped him.
"It isn't burning me." Harry said in a monotone. "It is an enchanted flame. It produces light and warmth, but does not burn me." Harry closed his hand and the flames disappeared. "I've got a bit more control on it now." Harry told him with a giddy smile. "It gives me a bit of a rush, energy-wise." Paul nodded. Harry lifted some of his mental shields to control his emotions.
Paul relaxed back into his chair and looked Harry over. "So, tell me everything you did. I'm interested in how one is taught wandless magic." Paul smiled as Harry relaxed into the couch and launched into his latest adventure.
Harry seemed to have enjoyed his time with his "mentor", as he called Bleys. He told stories of his first "day" with Bleys, laughing at himself for having fallen out of bed. Paul was having a hard time imagining Harry as a small child, especially since Harry always acted so old and said as much. "Oh, no." Harry told him. "I was adorable as a kid. Bleys said so and all I had to do was look at him to get my way." Harry confided.
"I'll make a note of that. 'Harry: adorable as kid'." Paul smiled. Harry relaxed into the couch and rested his head on his arm. Paul watched his face for a few seconds. "You've remembered something." He said. Harry looked up and shrugged.
"I guess my emotions show up easier now than before Bleys got a hold of me. He forbade suppression of emotions. I was supposed to express whatever I was feeling at the moment I felt it. It made for a few interesting moments. I was like a roller coaster…up and down, up and down."
"I happen to agree with him." Paul said, reaching out to mess up Harry's hair. He received a glare for his troubles. Never touch a teenage boy's hair.
"I thought so, too. Well, I did once he explained the reason for it. It makes wandless magic much easier. Emotions become the focus, rather than the wand. You can lose your wand, but emotions are a part of you and no one can take that away." Harry feel silent and his eyes moved to the candle again. "Bleys did something. I hated him for it, more so when I realized how I thought about him." Harry shook his head and lowered it to his knees, which had somehow found their way back to his chest.
"You loved him?" Harry's head snapped up with a look of horror.
"Not in that way!" Harry hastened to assure Paul. The therapist smiled at the typical teenager response Harry had given him.
"I did not mean in that way." He told Harry with a smile. "How did you feel about him?" He watched as Harry hesitated, obviously wrestling with an answer.
"He…felt," Harry stopped. He really didn't want to say this, as it would only bring back pain he didn't want to remember. "He felt like, a, uh," He stopped again. "You're going to think it's stupid." He said with a laugh Paul just raised an eyebrow. Harry was stalling and he knew it. "Fine." Paul smiled. He knew Harry inside out. "He felt like a father. Or what I think a father should feel like, anyway." Harry admitted and dropped his eyes to his feet. "I told you it was stupid."
"No." Paul told him. "It's not stupid." He moved forward and tapped Harry on the knee. Harry looked up again. "It's perfectly normal." He assured the boy. "I'm guessing that Vernon wasn't much of a father figure."
"How did you know that?" Harry demanded. Paul gave Harry a moment to think. "Never mind. You are Paul. You know everything."
Paul smiled and spread out his hands. "What can I say?" He told the boy. "I'm just that good." Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Now, back to Vernon. What was your relationship like?"
"We didn't have one." Harry said honestly. "He yelled. I ducked. That's about it."
"That's it? You ducked? What does that mean?" Paul shot out his questions quickly, hoping he would get at least one answer from Harry.
"Can we talk about something else?" Harry asked, a little uncomfortable with the topic. He really didn't want to talk about Vernon yet.
"Alright." Paul cast about for a subject. "You said Bleys did something. What did he do?" Paul watched as Harry's face went through several emotions. He ranged from hurt to anger and back to hurt in just a few seconds. Harry pulled his legs up again and rested his head on them. "What is it, Harry?"
"He taught me a lot of stuff about wandless magic. I don't need words, motions, or a wand to do magic anymore. He tried to teach me something and I didn't agree with the method." Harry explained.
"Will you tell me what he did?" Paul asked softly, trying to match Harry's tone. Harry didn't answer. "Harry?"
"He wanted me to learn how to throw off the Cruciatus Curse." Harry looked over at Paul. "The Pain Curse."
"Can you?" Paul asked. "Wizards, I mean." Paul clarified.
"No. No one can block the curse. Or throw if off." Harry told him. "It's not supposed to be possible."
"I hear a 'but' coming." Paul said with a touch of insight. Harry shrugged again and smoothed his hands through his hair. Paul gave him a moment. He knew Harry would continue talking, given enough time to find his words.
"But I can throw it off." Harry said in a rush. "Something else to make me different from everyone else." He sighed and relaxed back against the couch.
"Sounds like a useful skill." Paul commented. "How did he teach you?" Paul almost jumped at the look on Harry's face. Harry had changed in the space of that question.
"He cast it on me!" Harry snarled. "There I was, accepting everything he was teaching me, trailing behind him like a lost puppy, and he was…" Harry stopped. "I was stupid." He finished. "I trusted him. I was stupid, and he got me for it." Harry hit the sofa pillow next to him.
Paul watched Harry for the duration of his rant. Harry had changed, almost overnight. His emotions were no longer hidden under a mask. He was actually feeling them, not repressing them, and more than that, he was expressing them! Paul almost sank to the floor when he realized exactly who he was talking to: he was talking to Harry. The actual Harry. No masks. No fronts. No personas. Harry. He turned his attention back to Harry. "I think I'm missing something." Paul said slowly. "Why does this particular spell, aside from it being a pain spell, affect you so much?" Paul watched as Harry went rigid. Uh-oh.
"It's not a normal spell. You can say words to some spells and they just happen." Harry explained. "That's how they started at Hogwarts, you know. Easy spells that don't need a lot of intent, just the words. The Cruciatus is different. You need the intent. The spell can't work without it." Harry stopped talking and stared at the couch. "The intent is important. Very few realize that about the Cruciatus. You need to want the person to feel the pain. You need to want to cause the person the worst pain possible." Harry explained.
"I understand now." Paul said as he reached out and put a hand on Harry's knee.
"Yeah." Harry looked at Paul for a second. He was being stupid again and he knew it. He was sixteen years old, for heaven's sake! He shouldn't want a hug like a child! He didn't move, but Paul seemed to sense something. He stood up from his chair and settled on the couch next to Harry. He dropped an arm around the boy's shoulders and tugged. Harry moved the rest of the way and relaxed against the older man. "It hurts." Harry whispered.
"I know." Paul told him, wishing he could have this Bleys character in front of him so that he could avenge Harry's shattered trust.
Hermione climbed the stairs to the Headmaster's office. She wasn't sure why she was being called to the office, but she had a feeling it was something to do with Harry. She had a plan, though. The Potter Protectors were standing by with a set of pranks on each floor, along with Sophie's group, the Hogwarts Dramatists' Society. If the group had not heard from her in an hour, Chaos would be set loose inside the halls of Hogwarts. She raised her hand to know and was surprised to hear the Headmaster greet her before she could knock. "Come in, Hermione." Hermione knew that something was wrong just by the greeting. He had always called her "Miss Granger"; he hardly ever used Hermione. She opened the door and poked her head around it. Dumbledore looked up from his desk and smiled at her. "Hello, Hermione. Please come in." Hermione opened the door wider and stepped in.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" She asked.
"Yes, Hermione. Please shut the door." Hermione pushed the door shut and took the seat Dumbledore pointed out. He held out his candy dish. Hermione thanked him, but shook her head. "I was wondering how things are this year. How are you holding up, with Harry not being here?" Dumbledore rested his head on his hands.
"Um, I'm okay. I miss Harry, but I know that he'll be okay. He has to be." She shrugged a little bit and pushed her hair back from her face. "Right?" She asked.
"Harry has had some amazing luck so far. I'm sure he'll be fine with that luck behind him." Dumbledore agreed. "Mr. Weasley tells me that you and he do not – what was that phrase he used? – 'hang around' like you used to?" Dumbledore said in a speculating voice. "Did you and he get into a fight that I do not know of?" Dumbledore asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No, sir. He was just scaring some first years and I wouldn't stand for it. He's not up with them when they have nightmares. I am. I explained that to him and he took offense to it." She folded her arms and looked out the window. Dumbledore chuckled a little and stroked his beard.
"I'm sure that Mr. Weasley will come around, Hermione, given enough time." Dumbledore told the girl in a soothing voice. "Mr. Potter, however, presents another problem." Dumbledore said, his voice turning the slightest bit. Hermione glanced over at him.
"Why is that, sir?" She asked despite herself.
"He is missing, Miss Granger." Dumbledore stated plainly. "And you know where he is." Hermione was surprised to find Dumbledore directly in front of her when she turned back around to look at him. Her eyes met his and she felt the oddest sensation behind her eyes. She pulled her wand and incanted a shield spell from the DA.
"I'm sure the Board of Governors would love to hear about this!" Hermione snapped as Dumbledore straightened from his position. "Or how about the Ministry?" She folded her arms and glared her best "mess with me and taste my wrath" glare. "The Daily Prophet would love it!" She summoned her book bag to her and shouldered it. "I realize you're concerned about Harry, sir, but stay out of my head!" She spun on her heel and started for the door. "Barmy old wizard!" She muttered to herself.
"Miss Granger?" Hermione stopped but didn't turn around. "Where did you learn about Occlumency and Legillmency?" He asked in a rather curious voice.
"Where else?" Hermione asked in a breezy tone. "A book." She smirked to herself. Where else would she learn about it? Never mind that the book was only this side of legal.
"That type of book does not exist in Hogwarts library." Dumbledore commented. Dumbledore jumped as he heard a rather unladylike remark from Hermione just as she wrenched open the door and stomped down the stairs. "Stay out of my mind!" She shouted over her shoulder. The gargoyle shut behind her and Hermione stormed down the hallway. She saw one of the Potter Protectors and nodded to him. "Do it." She said. "Dumbledore deserves a headache." She told him with a smile. Ernie Macmillan smiled and took out his Galleon. He tapped it with his wand and Hermione saw the message change. Hermione thanked him and turned away. She needed to calm down.
Harry was sitting at his desk in his room, working on his Muggle homework. He was trying to figure out his Spanish. Why did the pronouns disappear? He was just turning his mind around another twist when his Mini Messenger literally jumped on the desk. He grabbed it and opened it to find a message from Mi.
M: You would never believe what Dumbledore just tried to do!
H: What?
M: Oh, good! You're awake. Are you feeling better? What happened?
H: Nothing I couldn't handle. Tell me what Dumbledore tried to do first.
M: Oh, he just decided to take a little stroll in my head without my permission.
Harry's entire body went cold and dread settled into the pit of his stomach. He couldn't go back to Hogwarts yet. He wasn't ready. The press alone would eat him. Dumbledore would smother him. Snape…he pushed all of the panicked thoughts from his head and turned his attention back to Mi.
H: What?
M: Just what I said. He attempted to use Legillmency on me!
H: What did you do?
M: Protected myself, of course! He didn't get past my first defense. All he got to see was surface thoughts. My annoyance at Ron Weasley, mostly. Some speculation about the world in general. Nothing about you, that's for sure. He was trying, really trying, to get me to think about you. It didn't work.
H: Mi, have I ever told you you're the best sister a guy could have?
M: Not today! Thanks, Skywalker. I wouldn't give up your Degobah to the Empire. Your sanctuary is St. Jude's. Oh, Dad said he dropped your costume off. How's it look?
H: Let me just say that it's my destiny.
M: Corny, Skywalker. Very corny.
H: It's me. The play's almost here.
M: I know.
H: Aunt Petunia's coming.
M: I know.
H: You're still coming, right?
M: Of course I am! You're excited, aren't you?
H: Excited? No. Terrified. Extremely nervous.
M: Good.
H: Good?
M: Well, you are acting completely normal. I would be worried about you if you weren't nervous.
H: I've faced Voldemort and Death Eaters, but I am afraid to get up in front of people and say lines.
M: Oh, the irony. Just remember. You aren't Harry up there. You are Edmund.
H: Yes, that's right. I just hope I keep remembering it.
M: You will. You're going to be a great actor. I can't wait to see the play.
H: I can't wait for you to see the play. The costumes are awesome. We're having a dress rehearsal the day before the first performance. That's the day of the Halloween dance.
M: Did you ask anyone?
H: Yes, I did.
M: Well, don't keep me in suspense. Who?
H: Julie.
M: Happy scream That's great!
H: It's only a "friends" thing. Neither one of us needs a relationship at the moment. Don't get too excited.
M: No worries. Congratulations, Harry. Now, Lord Vader, what are you going to do?
H: Dance. What else?
M: Good thing you know how.
H: Yeah. Note to self: 1,2,3 and 1,2,3 and 1,2,3.
M: It's 3,2,1.
H: blink What?
M: 3,2,1. For the faster music. The numbers are shorter when you go backwards. You don't actually think you're going to be waltzing, did you?
H: I'm not? What am I supposed to do?
M: Just let the music move you. Think of it like martial arts set to music.
H: I'm doomed.
M: laugh No you're not. Just relax and be yourself.
H: Doom. Doom.
M: Harry, stop! You know what I mean.
H: Yeah, I know. cheeky grin I was just making fun.
M: Boys.
H: Girls.
M: Brothers.
H: Sisters.
M: Jedi.
H: Sith.
M: You're going to be injured. Greatly. With a lot of pain.
H: Not if you can't catch me. Even Dumbledore can't catch me.
M: Of course not. Dumbledore can't catch you because he is being outsmarted by his students. There are pranks exploding all over Hogwarts at this very moment. Poor Headmaster is running around trying to banish them all, only to find his work undone when he gets to his first starting point.
H: The twins must be making a lot of money this year.
M: Yes. The group dedicated to protecting you from the Headmaster has made many orders from them. I only hope they can keep up with the demand.
H: It's Gred and Forge. I'm sure they can.
M: True. Oh, drat. I have to go. One of the group is in trouble and we need to make a distraction. I want pictures of you in your costume!
H: No promises, but Paul may fulfill your demands.
M: Thanks. Bye.
H: Later.
Harry shook his head as he shut his book. Who knew Hermione would turn into such a good rule-breaker? He wondered how long the corruption would last. More importantly, how would she feel about a portable swamp set up in the Divination tower? He fell to pondering the likelihood of sneaking one up there. He had only a second to register a terrible pain in his scar before he slumped to his desk.
Author's Note: Right. Barricading the door against you lot. I'm sorry I left a cliffhanger. It just came out that way. What could Voldemort possibly want with Harry?