Chapter Nine: Flared Curiosity
After meeting in the Room of Requirement, and being surprised to discover that Malfoy was quite grateful for his return (even if he insisted on showing it in the most Malfoy-ish way possible), Harry was in a wonderfully good mood as he sat down to breakfast the next morning. He was still a bit confused about his relationship with Malfoy, but that didn't bother him too much at the moment. He'd finally had a full night's sleep, free of nightmares and corridors. He'd even forgotten to dread his first Occlumency lesson with Snape that evening.
He said hello to Ron and Hermione before piling his plate high with sausages and toast.
"Well, you seem to be in a good mood today. Glad to be back at school, then?" asked Hermione cheerily.
Harry nodded, since his mouth was currently full of sausage. He hadn't told Ron and Hermione where he'd gone last night. There's no way they would react well if he told them he snuck off to meet Malfoy the first chance he got. Besides, how could he explain his relationship to the Slytherin if he didn't fully understand it?
Ron jumped in to fill the amiable silence, "I'm glad you're feeling better, mate. It is nice to be back isn't it? Sirius did a great job bringing some holiday cheer into that dusty old house, but at the end of the day, it still gives me the willies!"
"Yes, and we don't have to worry about that awful portrait screaming her head off anymore!" Hermione added with an exasperated groan.
Harry rolled his eyes, "She must have woken me up in the middle of the night four times while we were there! I think I might even prefer Umbridge. At least she's quieter."
Ron wrinkled his nose, "Dunno about that one, Harry. At least if that barmy portrait starts screaming, we can just shut the curtains and shut her up."
Harry tapped his chin, "I wonder if we can find a spare set of curtains for Umbridge. That would solve loads of problems!"
Hermione and Ron burst out laughing, and Harry beamed at them.
Today is going to be a good day.
Just then, a parliament of owls swooped into the Great Hall. Harry grabbed his goblet of pumpkin juice just in time as a barn owl landed roughly on the table in front of them. It hopped over to Hermione and held out its leg for her to take the copy of The Daily Prophet that was tied to it.
She hastily grabbed the paper and dropped some knuts into the owl's leg pouch before starting to read.
Almost as soon as she unfolded the Prophet, she gasped.
"Whaddisit?" Ron asked tensely through a mouthful of bacon.
Hermione only spread the front page on the table in front of her so they could all see the front page headline.
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN
Harry's stomach soured. His day wasn't looking that great anymore.
...
Harry approached Snape's office door that evening with trepidation. He had managed to distract himself enough throughout the day that he hadn't mustered up too much dread. But now that he was raising his fist to knock, he found his stomach souring with anxiety.
Breathing in deeply, he rapped his knuckles on the door.
"Enter," came Snape's muffled response.
Gulping, Harry opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room beyond.
Immediately, his attention was drawn to a blue light coming from one corner. There stood Snape, wand raised to his own temple. Something silvery pooled around the tip of his wand, and when he withdrew his hand, a strand of slippery light followed, seeming to flow out from the professor's greasy hair. He poked the memory into what Harry recognized as Dumbledore's pensieve, which turned out to be the source of the bluish light.
"Well, Potter, you know why you are here," he said. "The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions."
"Right," said Harry tersely.
After a brief - much too brief, in Harry's opinion - explanation of what Occlumency was, Snape instructed Harry to take out his wand.
"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," said Snape.
"And what are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively.
"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape softly. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse... You will find that similar powers are needed for this... Brace yourself, now... Legilimens!"
Harry was completely caught off guard, and images began to fly through his mind involuntarily, as if he was seeing scenes from his life play out on a movie screen.
He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy... He was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn... He was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin... Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair... A hundred dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake... Draco Malfoy was standing under the mistletoe, smirking...
No!
A part of Harry's mind revolted. His relationship with Malfoy was their secret! Even he didn't understand it; he couldn't let Snape see anything to do with it - it was unthinkable, it was -
He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape's office had come back into view and he realized that he had fallen to the floor; one of his knees had collided painfully with the leg of Snape's desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry welt there, like a scorch mark.
"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" asked Snape coolly.
"No," said Harry bitterly, getting up from the floor.
"I thought not," said Snape contemptuously. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."
"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.
"Flashes of it," said Snape, his lip curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"
"My Aunt Marge," Harry muttered, hating Snape.
And so the lesson, if that's really what it could be called, continued - Snape invaded Harry's mind over and over, and Harry continued trying in vain to keep the greasy bat out of his head.
But continually, no matter how Harry tried, Snape would get past his defenses and see things that Harry didn't want anyone to see, let alone the professor who went out of his way to make his life miserable.
Yet Dumbledore had handed him over to Snape, knowing that Snape hated him for no reason!
And Harry found his own hatred growing. Every time he resurfaced from his mind, shocks of pain running through his knees as he collapsed, he hated Snape more.
Over and over, all the man said in response was to try harder! He gave no further instruction aside from, "Clear your mind, Potter! Get up!"
Again, Harry stood, wand clutched in his hand.
Again, Snape counted down and hissed his spell.
A great black dragon was rearing in front of him... His father and mother were waving at him out of an enchanted mirror... Cedric Diggory was lying on the ground with blank eyes staring at him...
"NOOOOOOO!" He was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull.
He subtly wiped his eyes, trying to clear away the tears before Snape saw.
"Get up!" said Snape sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"
Harry balled his fists and made to stand once more.
Gritting his teeth, he steeled himself for the next shout of Legilimens!
Eventually, the lesson would be over. Eventually.
...
Potter threw himself down into his customary seat next to Draco, startling him slightly, seemingly materializing out of thin air.
Draco gave him a narrow-eyed look, partially out of reproach, and partially to keep up appearances. They were supposed to hate each other, after all.
He noticed during his calculated glance at Potter that he seemed… agitated. His hair was, somehow, in more disarray than usual, and he kept rubbing the fronts of his knees absently.
Immediately, Draco's curiosity flared. What had made Potter so upset?
But they couldn't start passing notes quite yet, not without Umbridge's inane assignments as their cover. So he instead stared at Umbridge impatiently, willing her to stand and begin the day's lesson.
A few very long minutes later, she finally rose from her frilly chair.
"Good afternoon, class."
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," came the rehearsed reply.
"Today, we will cover the chapter on Ministry-approved home security measures for all occasions. These are merely the everyday tasks that all responsible witches and wizards should perform to ensure their homes follow the utmost, highest standards, including-"
Draco quickly dipped his quill in ink, careful not to spill in his haste. He didn't care to hear about the most reliable methods for deterring gnomes - honestly, gnomes weren't even dark creatures! Instead, he began penning the questions that buzzed around his head:
All right today, Potter? You seem even angrier than usual, although I don't blame you considering the constant, disappointing string of 'assignments' in this class. What's got your wand in a knot?
He folded the scrap of parchment and surreptitiously passed it under the table.
He only had to wait a moment before he felt Potter's fingers brush against his own as he took the note. Draco concentrated on keeping his face blank and focused on the droning toad at the front of the room.
Potter only took a moment to write his reply:
First Occlumency lesson last night.
Draco resisted the urge to huff at the lack of detail, but he could at least understand the source of Potter's bad mood.
It didn't go well, I presume?
This time, Potter took a long while to respond.
No, thanks to your sodding godfather. He kept telling me to 'resist' without ever explaining HOW to do it. Then he yelled at me when he got through my defenses and told me I wasn't trying hard enough!
Draco read the note through a few times.
So he used Legilimency on you straight away?
Draco watched Potter's fist clench even harder as he read.
Yeah. It wasn't bad at first, but it's like the longer the lesson went on, the worse it got. He said that I was handing him weapons. And he used them. The bastard intentionally searched out… private memories.
Draco was surprised at his godfather. He'd always known that Severus had had a dark side - that much was obvious - and he knew that the man hated Potter as much as Draco used to. In fact, years ago, they had bonded over their mutual hatred. But using Legilimency on someone without giving them the proper instructions first? He shivered.
He thought back to his lessons from Severus and from his mother. They had gradually exposed him to mental attacks, and they refrained from probing into private memories. At least at first, until he had the skills to protect himself.
His mother had told him about her lessons from Aunt Bellatrix, and even that terrible woman hadn't gone straight to raiding her sister's private thoughts.
No wonder Potter's anger was pouring off of him in waves.
That's not what I would have expected from Severus.
He was just wondering if there was an underlying method to the man's madness when something occurred to Draco. The unsettling thought was like a stone in his stomach. He had been an idiot not to think of it before! His godfather could potentially see him in Potter's memories, interacting with him, being his friend…
Quickly, Draco added:
Did he manage to see anything too personal?
He heard Potter's scoff, followed by the familiar scratching of quill on parchment.
Every one of my memories is too personal when it comes to Snape. There are loads of things I'd rather not have him see. Things I'd rather not have anyone know.
Draco's heart twisted. The unsettling thought morphed into a full-blown fear. If the Occlumency lessons continued, would they be discovered? What would Severus do if he found out about their covert friendship?
Gulping, Draco dipped his quill again, forcing his hand to remain steady.
Did he see me?
A few moments later, he read Potter's response in that familiar, cramped scrawl.
Just a glimpse… That was one of the times I actually managed to shove him out of my head. Accidentally shot a stinging hex at him. Which served him right in my opinion, the git.
Draco snorted softly, despite himself.
You're being careful, then?
Don't worry, Malfoy. I'll do my best to protect you.
A small part of Draco chafed at the thought of needing protection. A much larger part had to fight down a wave of fluttery elation at the idea that Potter was protective of him.
That had to mean something... didn't it?
A/N - Aw poor Harry. When I originally started writing him with PTSD, I didn't think through how much worse Occlumency would be for him... At least he has Draco to cheer him up.
Thanks as always for reading 3 There will be more one-on-one Drarry interaction soon, I promise! We just have to get through another Occlumency lesson and a particularly bad nightmare...