A/N: Hi folks, and welcome back to Chapter Thirty-One of 'Accommodations'! This is what many of you have been waiting for - the beginning of the new term of school. Just a few words on two things before we get to it.
For one, the second scene of this chapter has two people together that would make a fine pairing in an alternative universe. If you would like to read more of that pairing (and if you haven't checked out my two stories 'Unexpected Vibes' and 'Underneath the New Moon' yet), I would definitely recommend checking out McGonagal'sCat. Her work features quite a few beautiful stories surrounding that couple.
Secondly, I must extend a huge Thank You to McGonagal'sCat for being the wonderful human being that she is. Friend, confidante, whip, and inspiration that she is to me, she has kindly allowed me to spoil her to pretty much the whole plot that is yet to come for this story - and she seemed to actually like my ideas. I hope that gives you folks out there some confidence as to whether I even have a plan what to do and where to go with 'Accommodations' (I do), and whether that plan is worth anything (McGonagal'sCat seems to think so). ;)
Now, without further ado, go ahead and dive right in!
Marcella xxx
DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling created and owns the rights to Harry Potter. For this chapter, I used some dialogue from Chapter Twenty-Four: Occlumency of JK Rowling's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Anything you recognize stems from her hands. I do not profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.
Saturday, January 11th, 1996
That same night when Hermione had all but forced the blood diamond upon the professor, not knowing whether he might ever even wear it, dinner had a little surprise for her. Sitting next to Harry, Ron seated on his other side, her raven-haired best friend told the two of them under his breath about his upcoming lessons with Professor Snape. He explained the matter of the lessons in so careless and derogatory a manner that Hermione had to force her rising anger down.
"Dumbledore wants to stop you having those dreams about Voldemort," she said, instead of once more admonishing the boys for not ever reading. "Well, you won't be sorry not to have them any more, will you?"
It appeared that Ron was not quite of the same opinion.
"Extra lessons with Snape?" he exclaimed, his voice surprisingly loud for all his whispering. "I'd rather have the nightmares!"
A hard stare from Hermione silenced the ginger boy as soon as he noticed it. Realizing that she'd been having extra lessons with the Potions Master all term, he gulped, and returned to his dinner. Harry, not having anything more to say that was important enough to him to brave more of Hermione's wrath, did the same.
Even if she hadn't been so cross with the boys, dinner would still have been highly uncomfortable. With Mr Weasley back, there should have been more than enough reason for celebration, but even the twins' jokes couldn't lift the general mood. Although, that wasn't quite correct. The mood was light enough; it was simply Sirius who carried an air of discontent around him that hung over the crowded dinner table like a black cloud.
Ever since Hermione had ended things between the two of them, Sirius had been moodier than Moody, retreating into himself, spending more and more time with Buckbeak rather than Harry, and giving in to a sullenness that was so unlike the Sirius as they knew him. Hermione was aware that Harry thought it was his fault, that Sirius was upset about the fact that they'd be leaving for Hogwarts soon, but Hermione knew better. There was no snowball's chance in hell, though, that she'd tell Harry the real reason why his godfather was withdrawing from their presence this much.
Rather than focusing on Sirius and his brooding, Hermione thought about Harry's upcoming lessons instead. Why hadn't Professor Snape told her that he'd be teaching Harry Occlumency in the next term? Alright, she had pretty much waltzed all over him in the discussion she'd thrown on the Potions Master, but could he not at least have informed her that their usual evening slot would be given to her best friend now?
Hoping that all would be explained soon, or at least that he'd offer her another time for their private lessons, Hermione returned to a far more important, far more pressing matter: how to shield her experiences with Sirius within her memories?
Sunday, January 12th, 1996
Breathing slowly through her nose, Hermione drew oxygen from the water around her, clouding her mind until it was as opaque as the water around her. She had added an ostentatious amount of bubble bath into the tub, so that her breathing would be further impaired. The goal was to continue breathing normally, no matter how difficult, while Occluding as heavily as possible.
It worked, too – that is, until she was yanked rather unceremoniously from the water.
"Hermione," an upset Remus almost shouted into her face, "Hermione, are you alright?"
Snapping her eyes open, Hermione wanted to curse herself. She had lost all her focus, and with it, a large section of her Occlumency walls had slipped. A thin fence was all that was left to defend her mind now, but hey, she thought to herself, that was more than she had managed previously. To be fair, though, she had never been surprised quite in such a manner, either.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she hastened to assure her raging ex-professor who was towering over her. He was still gripping her shoulders, Hermione noticed, and realized that his strong fingers would be leaving bruises on her tender skin. Her gaze travelling to his hands, Hermione noticed something else.
Remus Lupin stood before her…
…fully naked.
"Er –" Hermione hesitated. "Professor Lupin… Maybe… Don't you think, now, that maybe –"
Remus followed her gaze.
"Holy Merlin," he exclaimed in a whisper so forceful, his strong breath cooled Hermione's heated features right down.
Scrambling for a towel, finally releasing his strong hold on Hermione's shoulders, Lupin wrapped his middle in the soft fabric, hiding his rather large manhood from his former student's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he hastened to apologize, "I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone would be here at this hour, so I just wanted to take a quick shower, and the door wasn't locked, so I came in, and when I drew the curtain back and saw you lying there, so still, I panicked, and – and – I'm sorry, Hermione," he reiterated, seemingly run out of words for the moment.
"It's quite alright, professor," Hermione assured him. "I usually ward my bathrooms instead of locking them, so I guess I left the lock open out of habit. What can I say? My wandless magic isn't remotely strong enough to erect my usual wards, and who would walk in on me at this hour, really?"
Remus shot her a half-embarrassed, half-apologetic grin.
"What were you doing under water for so long anyway?" he asked her.
Breathing, Hermione thought. Occluding.
"Relaxing," she said out loud. "I wanted to have some quietude for myself for once."
"Because the house isn't quiet enough at this early hour?"
Professor Lupin was just too perceptive for her. Of course, that didn't excuse her bad lie, but it had been worth a shot, hadn't it?
Now, there was nothing for it. She'd have to fake her way through this.
"Exactly," Hermione confirmed. "Now, allow me to leave the bath, professor, then you will have the bathroom all to yourself in a minute."
"Oh," Remus backpaddled, "oh, no, Hermione, that's quite alright. I'll leave you to it. Sirius's bathroom will be unoccupied at this hour, so there's no need to use this particular shower. See you."
And with that, he grabbed his clothes and was gone from the bathroom.
Hermione didn't go back to her breathing exercises, though. Suspicious of her former teacher's suspicion, she decided to leave the tub as she had said she would. Her toes and fingertips were all crinkled already, anyway.
While towelling off (after having locked the door to the bathroom – Hermione wasn't one to take the same chances more than once, after all), an unbidden and surprisingly humorous thought came to her.
Much as she was a stickler for proper addresses and the like, she realized that this moment, standing naked before her with his mighty manhood in full view, would have been the perfect opportunity for Professor Lupin to offer her to call him by his given name.
Students had been streaming into the Castle all afternoon. Severus did not know how it came that he felt the exact moment when the girl stepped over the borders and onto Hogwarts grounds.
Perhaps because now, that he had shared something deeply intimate and unique with the girl, he was so attuned to her that he noticed wherever she went?
Or perhaps, a more sober reasoning in his head suggested, because the girl is overly fond of overstepping all kinds of borders, and you have the same knack of knowing when she does as you have with the Potter boy.
Merlin, Severus thought at that notion, I have turned into a human Mrs Norris.
The question now was, what to do with that knowledge? Should he call the girl to him tonight, to test whether she was honestly willing to submit to his demands? To him?
But she would demand to know why he hadn't told her about Potter's lessons. By now, Severus was certain that the boy must have blabbed to his friends about his upcoming Occlumency studies. Mighty Morgana, Severus had been furious when the Headmaster had informed him that he was to teach the brat come the new term. Dumbledore had not even asked, no, for once electing not to choose the polite way. The Headmaster had simply stated that Severus was to instruct his golden boy in the ways of defensive Mind Magic, and that had been that.
There was no way around it, however; Severus would have to teach Potter, period. How to make time for the girl, though? With his new commitment to bettering Potter's ineptitude, Severus's Monday evenings were planned out. To offer Remedial Potions for more than one student at a time, and both of them Gryffindors at that, would be highly suspicious and would certainly draw the attention of one so-called High Inquisitor, not to mention the Dark Lord.
No, much as Severus hated to admit (and much as he hated to hate that), he would need to cancel his lessons with the girl outside of classes. Of course, he would still be able to train her during their usual Potions periods every week, but would that be enough? And what's more, those evening lessons of 'Remedial Potions' had been supposed to feature some other, also extracurricular, activities. What was to come of that?
Never being one to shy away from a challenge, but also wise enough not to seek open confrontation by calling the girl to him this night, Severus decided to wait for their next encounter: the first Potions lesson of the new term.
Monday, January 13th, 1996
Hermione had pondered whether to contact the professor via Protean charm last night, but had ultimately decided against it. After all, he had firmly instructed her to wait for him to contact her, as long ago as that instruction may have been.
And so, she had sat with her friends at dinner the night before, surreptitiously watching the High Table for any sign on the Potions Master's face as to what their immediate future would bring. He had not graced her with a single glance, however, and his eyes, sweeping over the House tables in their search for troublemakers, had been unreadable as ever.
Her morning classes had done nothing to calm Hermione's agitated anticipation down, and so she was almost bouncing in excitement as to what their next lesson would bring as she walked down to the dungeon classroom.
Sitting in her usual back corner, she patiently waited for instructions. When the assignment for the day wrote itself onto the blackboard at a flick of the Potions Master's wand, and all her classmates went to collect the necessary ingredients, Hermione sat still instead, electing to begin the lesson as she had become used to.
That, it turned out, had been the wrong thing to do.
"Miss Granger," the professor's voice violently thundered through the dungeon, "we are all aware that you believe yourself above your peers, but that does not make you exempt from class assignments. Am I understood?"
Hermione, having jumped from her seat in shock, found herself under the scrutiny of her classmates. The Slytherins wore expressions of glee and open hatred. The Gryffindors' faces showed a range of emotions, beginning at sympathy, going to ambivalence, reaching even to outright scorn at what they must believe to be her arrogance.
Jumping into motion, quick as she was, Hermione had begun chopping and dicing and juicing and peeling her ingredients long before the last of her classmates had even collected theirs. Setting her selected cauldron to a low flame, she began tossing in the necessary bits and pieces, not stopping in her motions once – not even when the professor came to stand behind her.
"Eggplant," he stated matter-of-factly, "does compliment your skin quite nicely, Miss Granger, though I must say, it is rather an unusual colour to express anger. Or will you make it your habit to toss your knickers at me when you feel you are being treated unjustly?"
Hermione blushed furiously.
"I believe I might have noticed if I had been tossing my knickers at you, sir," she seethed through her teeth.
"Physically, yes," Professor Snape assessed. "Mentally, I should have hoped you would notice that, but judging from your reply just now, you probably haven't. Circe, Miss Granger, with how angry you are at the moment, I should think you would care whether you are concentrated on your knickers or not, as they might burst into flames from your fury any moment now."
That had Hermione's attention. With her concentration on what the professor might try to extract from her mind while she was busy with her brewing – meaning: vulnerable –, she might have focused too much on what he wasn't supposed to see, rather than focusing on things he had no interest in and thus spamming her mind with irrelevant and unhelpful data.
They fell silent for a while. Eventually, the professor left his position behind her and stalked his usual rounds through the classroom. Admonishing students left and right, he returned to Hermione's work station after a couple of minutes.
"There will be no pain for you today, Miss Granger," he stated in a low voice that had her insides twist in pleasure. "Unless, that is of course, you make a mistake in your brewing, as this is a potentially volatile potion. Other than that, I want you to Occlude. Rather than building a full-brick wall today, you will work on bringing memories forward that might distract me, mislead me, lie to me, without me realizing it. All the while, you will also be brewing today's potion, to be handed in at the end of the lesson."
"May I ask what you will be looking for, sir?" Hermione queried.
"You may not," the professor replied. "After all, not every opponent will cause a scene in which they tell you their plans for world domination, or for extracting information from a muggle-born witch. More often than not will you find yourself at the hands of a mediocre Mind Mage who is still clever enough to search for and extract their desired information without ever revealing to you what it is they are looking for."
"I see," Hermione said.
Her face must still have conveyed her distinct feeling of having been treated unfairly, as the professor had guessed quite correctly, for he said, "Fear not that your Occlumency studies might have a negative effect on your grades, because they will, whether you fear it or not. Keep in mind, however, Miss Granger, that your week-to-week grades will be of little importance once you have mastered your OWLs and later on your NEWTs. As long as you keep your brewing skills up, these lessons will not have any lasting negative repercussions on you. Or do you care so little about Occlumency that you will decline my offer of further teaching you?"
"No, sir," Hermione replied. "I still very much want to learn."
The impact of that simple sentence, Hermione thus binding herself to the demands the professor had stated, did not weight her down as heavily as she had thought it might. In fact, it appeared to her as if nothing had tangibly changed. It probably hadn't… so far.
"Learn, then, Miss Granger," Professor Snape demanded. "Learn as much as you can, and you might just have a chance."
When the Potions Master walked away from her desk without another word, Hermione returned to her brewing. Now that he already knew the colour of her knickers without her noticing that he had even looked into that, there was little for her to lose if she were to broadcast that little nugget of information some more.
Grinning to herself, Hermione had her mental walls shine in a more brilliant eggplant colour than before.
Yes, she though, that will do nicely.
"Shut the door behind you, Potter."
The idiot boy had crept into the room as if Severus wouldn't notice him, as if his knocking hadn't gotten Severus's full attention, as if his full attention hadn't been on the anticipation of that self-same knocking anyway.
Severus stood over the Headmaster's Pensieve, his back to the door. While he was extracting some of his memories one at a time into the shallow stone basin, that did not make him in any way less attentive towards his surroundings.
As to why he was extracting his memories in the first place, that was a difficult matter. Little though he expected Potter to manage to properly defend his mind during their first lesson together, much less manage to fight back and thus turn the Mind Magic onto Severus himself; it was always better to be safe, rather than sorry, if one didn't want certain memories to be revealed. Especially with Potter, one never knew when the boy would find his way around borders that he had a knack for crossing at the most inopportune of times.
Those memories that he wished to remain hidden were mostly of the girl. Of course, Severus had many incriminating memories that he did not wish for Potter to see, but he thought that the Dark Lord was sensitive enough a topic for him to be accustomed to guarding those portions of his mind against a teenage boy, unskilled in the arts of the mind.
Sensitive though the memories of the girl were, they could not compare to those concerning the Dark Lord in any way. Their sensitivity lay in the fact that they were personal, intimate, in a way that made Severus vulnerable, and that made him hate himself for that. Either way, those memories were better left to his mind, and his mind alone. There was no need to have Potter stumble upon those in accident.
Turning around to face the room, Severus found that the boy was taking his sweet time in closing the door. He scoffed inwardly. As if that could buy him time.
Pointing at the chair opposite his desk, Severus waited for the boy to face him.
"Well, Potter," Severus drawled when the boy eventually braved the dungeon office, "you know why you are here. The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions."
Little hope though there was of that, his mind readily supplied, and Severus couldn't help but agree.
"Right."
Eyes narrowing at the boy's insolence, Severus thought for the fraction of a second of how to punish him. Those thoughts brought about more memories of the girl, however. Pale and hollow as they were, now that they were temporarily resting inside the Headmaster's Pensieve, they still brought a heat to Severus's loins that was entirely unwelcome at this point of time.
"This may not be an ordinary class, Potter," Severus elected to direct his scathing voice at the offender, "but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me 'sir' or 'professor' at all times."
"Yes… sir," came the boy's response, hardly less insolent than before. Although the words might have displayed some politeness, his voice did nothing to mirror that.
If he was to get through these lessons quickly, though, Severus would need to let that slide for the moment. After all, more insolence was certain to come, so there was little sense in stalling the lesson to address that now. For a moment, Severus cursed the boy's low marks in Potions. There was little room for him to drop them any lower, after all, with Potter's abysmal performance during lessons.
"Now, Occlumency," Severus began, hoping to get through this night as swiftly as possible. "As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen," – at this, his voice was practically dripping with sarcasm – "this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence."
"And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?" the boy asked, meeting Severus's eyes as if there was nothing to fear from them.
For a moment, Severus was reminded of the girl. She had kept eye contact as much as possible, as well – in the beginning, at least. What was an act of respect with her, however, was a sign of outright defiance with Potter. It was of little consequence, Severus thought. The boy would learn quickly enough that defiant eye contact was not his friend here.
"Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency –"
"What's that? Sir?"
The boy rudely interrupting him aside, Severus wanted to throttle Potter, and throttle Dumbledore for saddling him with the idiot student. At least, the girl had come to him of her own motivation, and had displayed some knowledge of the more obscure branches of magic. At least, he thought, the boy's lack thereof was proof of the girl keeping said knowledge (and the mere fact that she possessed it) to herself.
But then again, another thought popped up, it might just prove how resistant the Potter brat is to any kind of learning.
Pressing on through his disappointment that he would actually need to start at the very roots with this particular student, Severus began, "It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind –"
Again he was interrupted.
"He can read minds?"
Fear showed in the boy's features. His expression made two things very clear: for one, he was far too much a Gryffindor, if even hiding as potentially embarrassing an emotion as fear was beyond his abilities. Secondly, he had no subtlety, not as the girl had, and Severus would not beat around the bush with that.
"You have no subtlety, Potter," he stated in no uncertain terms. "You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that make you such a lamentable potion-maker."
Pausing for a moment, Severus waited for the boy to interrupt him. Whether to expect more insolence or perhaps some actual thinking and retreating his stupid assumption about the nature of Legilimency, he could not say – well, he could, but that would not really help things, nor bring any kind of change in his recent thoughts, now, would it? – but he had not expected the boy to actually remain silent and hear him out.
Then again, there was a slightly changed air of defiance around the Potter boy now. It seemed as if he was bracing himself against the Potions Master revelling in the insult towards his student. Then again, maybe Severus was revelling. Slightly. But at least that went to show that Potter could display some kind of self-constraint, meagre though it might be.
Besides, the boy would need to learn that being proven wrong was not a bad thing. Powerfully though the girl had hated the experience in the beginning, and had obviously resented Severus pointing out a number of her mistakes to her, be they in theoretical thinking or in practical exercise, she had always accepted his corrections, for they went to help and better her. She had understood that. Potter, however, was a far way away from that understanding.
"Only Muggles talk of 'mind reading'," Severus elaborated when it became clear that Potter wasn't about to grasp that concept by himself. "The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter… or at least, most minds are…"
Alright, Severus admitted in the quietness of his own mind. Perhaps he did enjoy taunting and insulting the boy wherever possible.
"It is true, however," he continued, not even trying to suppress the smirk that had spread over his face, "that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."
Severus noticed that the boy was still stubborn in his definition of Legilimency being 'mind reading'. He could practically see Potter voicing another stupidity before the brat even opened his mouth.
"So he could know what we're thinking right now? Sir?"
Severus didn't know whether to go into a fit of rage at both Potter and the Headmaster, or to begin laughing at how ridiculous this whole situation was, or to cry at having to face a student so desperately resistant to learning.
"The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance," Severus fought to keep his composure, "and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them. Time and space matter in magic, Potter," he impressed, even though that should have become clear to the boy in his first year of Hogwarts schooling. "Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency."
"Well then," Potter continued, still keeping his eyes trained on Severus's, because listening had apparently never been his thing anyway, "why do I have to learn Occlumency?"
Sometimes, Severus found his ability to perform wandless magic to be torturous. This moment was one of those times. He kept his hands away from the pocket where his wand was held, but that did not mean that his lack of wand in hand would keep the Potions Master from hexing Potter for his insolence.
Trapping the boy under his watchful gaze, Severus traced his upper lip with a single finger. A single finger would have been enough to curse the boy. By keeping it fixed to his own face, Severus hoped to prevent exactly that event from happening. Dumbledore would never forgive him if he dared damage his star pupil.
"The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter," Severus supplied. "The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable – when you are asleep, for instance – you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The Headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord."
For a few blessed seconds, it seemed as if the boy would leave things at that. Severus was almost about to continue with the lesson as he had planned it, when –
"But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop it? I don't like it much, but it's been useful, hasn't it? I mean… I saw that snake attack Mr Weasley and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save him, would he? Sir?"
Keeping the digit at his mouth, Severus continued tracing the line along his own upper lip. The urge to punish the boy was growing. This lesson was definitely different from any evening he had ever spent with the girl. Whenever she had any urges of his grow in her presence, it was rarely the need to punish her.
"It appears," Severus began, speaking slowly so that Potter would be able to follow his explanation, and choosing his words very deliberately indeed, "that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions and sharing his thoughts without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas –"
"The one with the snake and Mr Weasley?"
Severus was unwilling to take the boy's interruptions any longer. If the Potions Master was willing to trudge through the mud that these lessons imposed upon his usually oh-so-shiny life – and yes, he did mentally scoff mightily at that –, the Potter boy would need to do the same.
"Do not interrupt me, Potter," Severus commanded sharply. "As I was saying… the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord's thoughts –"
There was just no hope for it.
"I saw inside the snake's head," the boy exclaimed, "not his!"
"I thought I just told you not to interrupt me, Potter?" Severus scathed.
It appeared as though his words would remain without effect. The boy sat on the very edge of his chair, perched as if those couple of inches would bring him further towards the answers he so obviously craved.
"How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?"
Severus hissed, inhaling sharply. Dumbledore knew not to use the Dark Lord's self-chosen name in his Potions Master's presence, for it could have dire consequences, should the Dark Lord be listening. In fact, the Headmaster had even used it to reign in Severus, forcing him into compliance by threatening the use of that name that might alert the Dark Lord to any discussions pertaining to his person going on around one of his followers who bore the Mark.
That the boy was uneducated in this aspect was no surprise to Severus, but shocked him either way.
"Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" Severus spat, as if that could save him now.
A few moments passed between them. The silence Severus had been hoping for earlier was unpleasant, to say the least. As it should be. Potter deeply disliked that kind of silence, it seemed, for he was the one to break it.
"Professor Dumbledore says his name," the brat stated.
Although the boy's voice had been quiet, its message had cracked through Severus like his whip had done to the backsides of the girl's soft thighs. After all, the implication of cowardice was clear.
"Dumbledore," Severus countered, equally quietly, "is an extremely powerful wizard. While he may feel secure enough to use the name… the rest of us…"
"I just wanted to know," the boy began anew after a moment's pause, seemingly forcing his voice into some semblance of politeness, "why –"
"You seem to have visited the snake's mind," Severus couldn't help but snarl, nor did he take any particular care to reign in his fury, "because that was where the Dark Lord was at that particular moment. He was possessing the snake at the time and so you dreamed you were inside it too…"
"And Vol – he – realized I was there?"
"It seems so," Severus assessed, his voice as cold as his temper had no hope of being at this moment. At least the boy had remembered not to use the Dark Lord's name this time.
"How do you know?" Potter pressed on. "Is this just Professor Dumbledore guessing, or – ?"
Enough, Severus thought. Enough.
"I told you," he scathed at the insolent brat, fed up with all the liberties the brat took so freely, as if they were his for the taking, "to call me 'sir'."
"Yes, sir," Potter agreed, though Severus knew it was only a formality, and his next words went to prove that, impatient as the boy was, "but how do you know – ?"
"It is enough that we know," Severus cut him off. "The important point," he tried to lead the discussion back to the subject at hand, "is that the Dark Lord is now aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts and feelings. He has also deduced that the process is likely to work in reverse; that is to say, he has realized that he might be able to access your thoughts and feelings in return –"
"And he might try and make me do things?" Severus found that it left him rather unconcerned that the boy might have to experience that exact same scenario. "Sir?" Potter added, as if in an afterthought.
Then again, Severus thought, the Potter boy stumbling into some hare-brained misled act of heroism would most likely end in more messy business for him, Severus, and would quite probably carry some repercussions in his favour with the Dark Lord, some of which might have his nerve endings twitching painfully for hours after the punishment.
"He might," Severus replied, his voice cold. "Which brings us back to Occlumency."
Extracting three more memories from his mind, one after the other, Severus added the last few strands of thought about Occlumency lessons taught to the girl into the Headmaster's pensieve. Storing the stone basin carefully onto a nearby, yet out-of-the-way shelf, he turned back to face Potter once more. The boy stared at the wand that Severus was now holding at the ready.
"Stand up," Severus demanded, "and take out your wand, Potter."
Once the boy was standing, Severus issued the instructions that would be the guidelines for this session.
"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me," he explained, "or defend yourself in any other way you can think of."
The boy gulped visibly.
"And what are you going to do?" he asked.
This time, Severus controlled the smirk that was about to show on his face. The boy would fear him well enough after his first taste of intrusive Mind Magic, after all. Scaring Potter now would only make him less responsive to Severus's teaching.
"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," Severus replied, keeping his voice as soft as he could with the boy present. "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!"
Coming up: Chapter thirty-two, wherein a bath is interrupted to discuss gold.