Occlumency

On the last day of the Holiday, the Weasleys, Hermione, Sirius, Siria and Remus went to collect Mr. Weasley from St. Mungo's. Kreacher Apparated to inform Siria and Sirius of a visitor. Sirius read Siria's face before asking Kreacher to repeat himself.

"Kreacher said that Snape is at home," Kreacher said. He shook his head at Sirius. "He is wanting a word with Mistress and says he is not be waiting."

"He better believe he'll be waiting," Siria said. "How dare he boss you around."

"Siria," Sirius said, then looked to Kreacher. "Did Snape say why he needs Siria?"

"Kreacher is told Snape does not need to explain Snape to house elves," Kreacher spat.

"I—" Sirius placed a hand on Siria's shoulder.

"I'll finish with the Healer and we'll go back together," Sirius said. He headed past Siria, who glared at nothing in particular as Sirius stormed away.

Siria knelt down, beside Kreacher's ear. She glanced around, but the Weasley's were naturally engaged with Mr. Weasley's recovery. "Kreacher," Siria whispered, "if you want, you can tell Snape he can bugger off because you're a free elf."

"Kreacher told Snape he is no Black, half-blood he is too, and that Kreacher is not to be bossed," Kreacher said with an air of pride. Siria smiled at him.

Sirius returned to Siria's side. He winked at her and placed a hand over his coat pocket. Siria nodded. She took Kreacher's hand. Sirius waved to Remus.

CRACK

The sound was different than when one witnessed Apparition. As Siria was squeezed through a hamster tube, the usual crack got distorted. It was more like a pop, of the sound around her being broken. Then a crash as sound returned at Number Twelve and things came into focus.

Snape glared at them, in the entryway of their home. Siria ran her arm through Sirius's. She felt how ready he was to defend her, but she didn't need it. Sirius glared back at Snape. [B5, 518]

"To what do we owe this visit, sir?" Siria asked. She raised her head and glared into the cold, dark eyes that never seemed to see her.

"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter-Black," Snape said, a sneer forming.

"I am her father," Sirius said.

"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," said Snape. His voice was a quiet buzz.

"And why has Dumbledore graced us with a visit from you, sir?" Siria asked. She kept a firm grip on Sirius's arm. He would not duel Snape with his off hand. [B5, 518]

"The headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter-Black, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term," said Snape. He paused to read the room. Siria placed her other hand on Sirius's arm. "You will received private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?" [B5, 518-519]

"Yes, sir," Siria said. "Am I to expect you bringing word means you are to teach me?"

"Yes."(B5, 519)

"Why can't Dumbledore teach Siria?" Sirius asked. (B5, 519)

"It's fine," Siria said. "I don't want Dumbledore to teach me." Sirius and Snape stopped glaring at the other to examine Siria. She kept herself as tall as she could make herself.

"Sir, when is our first lesson?" Siria asked. Snape scanned her over before glaring at Sirius again.

"Monday night, six o'clock," Snape instructed. "If anyone asks, we're reviewing your Independent Study Work." Snape took a step forward, to push past them and leave. (B5, 519)

"Wait a minute," Sirius said. (B5, 519)

"I am in rather a hurry, Black—" Snape started. (B5, 519)

"Then I'll be quick," said Sirius, "if I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to harass Siria over who her parents are, you'll have to answer to me." (B5, 520)

"How touching," Snape scoffed. "Surely, you've noticed how much Potter-Black resembles her fathers?"

"I have," Sirius said proudly.

"Then you'll know she's so arrogant that criticism bounces off," Snape snapped. [B5, 519-520]

Siria yanked Sirius's arm as he reached for his wand. She cocked her head up and glared at Snape, who paused, mid-reach for his wand. "Good day, sir," Siria said through gritted teeth. She took a step to the side and nodded at the door. Snape slammed it behind him.

"What I wouldn't give to jinx that bloody—" Sirius started the moment Siria let go of him. She pointed at him.

"Swear jar," Siria said.

"We don't have a swear jar," Sirius said. Kreacher CRACKED then CRACKED again as he reappeared with a large mason jar. There was piece of construction paper that read "Suair jar" in marker. He handed the jar to Siria, who extended it to Sirius.

"You can't be serious," he told her and shook his head at the jar. Siria extended it to the end of her reach. She gave it a light shake. Sirius clicked his tongue, but dropped in a knut. Siria arched an eyebrow at him. He sighed and dropped a Sickle. "I expect you to participate, young lady."

"I don't expect to swear where I'll get caught, old man," Siria said. She handed the jar back to Kreacher, who Apparated away with the jar. "He'll be keeping an ear out for you."

"You're almost an adult, when you ought to be able to swear as much as you want," Sirius argued.

"What are you going to do with the grandkids?" Siria asked. "Swear a river."

"Grandkids?" Sirius asked. He looked more like a deer in headlights than a dog. Siria shrugged.

"Yes." She crossed her arms. "If I live through all this, I'm adopting every orphan this war causes— maybe more. Maybe I'll turn Grimmauld Place into an orphanage, I don't know, but I'm going to do something to help fix this mess."

"This isn't your mess to clean," Sirius told her. Siria shook her head.

"You said Voldemort chose me, well, I'm choosing to face him and I'm choosing to make things better if I live," Siria said.

"You will," he said. Siria rolled her eyes.

"You don't know that," she told him. "It might not be next time or the time after that, even, but Voldemort could grow tired of wanting to kill me himself." Without thought, she pulled at the necklaces around her neck. "He could promise a reward to his followers, for whoever brings him my head," her fingers caressed the coin pendant. "Or take over the Ministry and have all the Wizarding World looking for me…" a small voice wondered from the depths of her mind.

"Would it be the whole Wizarding World?" the wheels of something started to turn or maybe she just finally felt them.

"Siria," Sirius snapped and reached for her. She took a flexive step back. The pendants fell back down. "Where did you get that necklace?"

"A… friend gave it to me," she said. Her hand pressed over the pendants.

"When?"

"For Christmas."

"It wasn't in your presents," he said and took another step closer. "Hand it over, it could be cursed."

"Excuse you?" Siria said. "My friend isn't trying to curse me!"

"Yet" something whispered.

"Then why did they hide it?" Sirius asked. "All of your things need to be vetted, Siria."

"Voldemort isn't going to have a teenage boy send me a necklace," Siria scoffed.

"A boy gave it to you?" He asked. "That's all the more reason to look, what if he jinxed it? What if it's enchanted to make you fall for him?"

"Do you hear yourself?" Siria asked. "You're paranoid."

"If you're so sure, hand it over," and Sirius extended his hand. Siria clenched the necklace.

"No."

Her form became the four legged, shaggy black dog she slept as. She bolted past Sirius, who changed a fraction after her. What should it matter is Malfoy sent her a necklace? It would though, to Sirius. "He's the son of a Death Eater," she could hear it already. "You saw him at the Ministry with his father," she knew. In that windowless corridor.

Siria paused. Sirius ran into her. She was knocked over. He pinned her down. Sirius bit her tail, enough to tell her she could not run, but not enough to hurt. The light prickle didn't matter. Voldemort wanted into the Department of Mysteries— the prophecy was in the Department of Ministries. She growled back at Sirius and snapped.

"Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. Fred and George rushed to part Sirius and Siria, who returned to their human forms and stepped back. Siria threw her arm out to keep George back.

"Siria Jessica Potter-Black," Sirius said with each of her names clear through his gritted teeth. "You have no idea the lengths teenage boys will go to get a girl. Hand it over."

"No," Siria said just as firmly. "I will promptly, kindly, and clearly reject him. You don't get to inspect his gift for 'curses'," she placed the word in air quotes. "He isn't like that," she said.

"Right now," a small voice whispered.

"It's true," Hermione cut in. "The person that gave it to Siria wouldn't curse her…" Hermione bit her lips and Siria knew the small voice inside Hermione echoed her own.

"Who is he then?" Sirius asked.

"Is this how you'll act when I date a boy?" Siria asked. "Assume he's a monster? You didn't have any problem with Lily Moon until she dumped me."

"Girls are different," Sirius said.

"They can be just as bad," Hermione said. "Some sixth years were talking about how Love Potions are too complicated, 'but it couldn't hurt to try one'."

Sirius didn't drop the topic until they stepped off the Knight Bus at Hogsmeade Station the next day. He kept insisting that she didn't know boys and they could be very determined. "You were a boy!" Siria shouted at the station, to the shaking of Remus's head.

"That's how I know," Sirius said.

"Maybe, then, teach people to be better instead of trying to teach me people are terrible," Siria snapped. "I've got enough doubts about people without you adding to it."

"Alright," Remus placed his hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Siria, have a good term. We'll call and expect to hear about your lessons."

"Yeah, whatever," Siria sighed.

"Eat good meals," Remus said. Siria nodded. "You won't be able to write us, as I don't know when we'll be where, but we'll try to call around the same time on Saturday."

"Okay," Siria brushed her bangs. She stared at the snowy ground, rather than either of them.

"For as much as we may disagree with Snape," Remus paused, "he is an accomplished Occlumens."

"Okay dad!" Siria snapped, "Remus," she adjusted, "Remus and dad, whatever. Love you, bye."

Outside of Snape's door, just before six o'clock, Siria stroked the Dumbledore's Army Galleon. Cassius was starting lessons. Most of the D.A. probably arrived, but she was here. She knocked against the door with her head. Of all the places she could be…

"Enter," Snape ordered. Siria rolled her head back and entered Snape's office. She closed the door behind her. Her eyes hovered on the handle as her heart fluttered with the urge to leave. Snape pointed at a chair, which Siria eased herself into. Siria said nothing. In silence, she returned his glare. [B5, 529]

"Now, Occlumency, as you've read, is a branch of magic that seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence," Snape told her. "The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency," Snape continued without interruption. If she let him explain and insult her as much as he liked, they would be done in better time than if she defended herself or asked questions. [B5, 530]

"As I am sure you remember," Snape said in a voice that implied he thought otherwise, "eye contact is often essential in Legilimency." He paused, either for effect or because he expected interruption. "The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter-Black, and the Dark Lord. At times, when your mind is most relaxed, you share the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue and wishes for me to teach teach you how to close your mind." [B5, 531]

"Sir," Siria said, though she wished she didn't stop him. "Though I don't enjoy the flashes into his mind, it saved Mr. Weasley's life."

"At the price of the Dark Lord knowing you can peer into his mind," Snape said. "It is only a matter of time before he manipulates you, unless you learn to close— your— mind." [B5, 532-533]

Snape pulled his wand from his pocket. Siria gripped the chair, but Snape turned from her. He approached Dumbledore's Pensieve and placed three strands of silver memory into the basin. Siria closed her eyes. She breathed and put all her attention on it. Just breathing. [B5, 533]

"Stand up, Potter-Black," Snape said. "Ready your wand," he said as Siria did so. "You may use your wand in any attempt to disarm me or defend yourself in anyway you can think of," said Snape (B5, 533-534). "I am about to break into your mind." Siria did not like this wording. She turned her foot, as if to brace a blow and focused on her wand.

"I have been told that you show aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse," Snape said and a flutter of a smile passed over his face that showed he was impressed despite himself. "You will find similar powers are needed for this," Snape raised his wand. "Brace yourself, now… Legilimens!" [B5, 534]

Snape and his office blinked from her vision. She was nine, in a tree, with Ripper barking at her and the Dursley's laughing. She was falling. [B5, 534]

Suddenly, her arm was in a cast and Uncle Vernon's massive hand held her face. She screamed and was twelve. Siria glared into the eyes of Tom Riddle. Over or maybe under the red, hungry eyes, black disappointed ones flickered like a glare. The handsome young man's face distorted with anger and curtains of greasy black hair.

Lily Moon stole glances at Siria as they worked on their homework. She giggled as Siria leaned in. Their noses touched. Her beautiful, honey eyes squinted at Siria.

Dudley screamed and something shattered. Then the kitchen trembled as Marge ranted. "No," Siria thought, but it continued to play like a film.

"It's one of the basic rules of breeding," Marge's voice didn't sound right over the rattling. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup…Weak. Underbred."(B3, 25, 27).

The kitchen erupted into splinters. Like puzzle pieces, it fell apart. The dark, cold and damp office came into focus. Siria was on one knee, and breathless as though she sprinted up to Gryffindor Tower.

Snape watched his shelves. He squinted at them and their jars. His cold eyes passed over Siria without taking her in. She hung her head. Siria ground her first into the floor. She had not pushed him out, he stopped.

"Get up, Potter-Black," Snape commanded. Siria took a breath then rose. She ran her hands over her braided hair. Her ears rang. "You do understand that each memory you grant the Dark Lord, you bestow a new weapon to be used against you, don't you? If you cannot force me out, control what I see. Show me what you want me to see."

"I don't want you to see anything!" Siria snapped, "sir." She fixed the collar of her jacket. Her fingers brushed the cool silver chains around her neck.

"Then force me out," Snape said. In a flash, he waved his wand "Legilimens!"

"What were you doing with Draco Malfoy?" Snape asked. Siria shrugged, but kept her eyes on the stone floor. He knocked her down, again. She wasn't sure if she couldn't stand while it happened or if she collapsed to her knees.

"Probably threatening him or being threatened," she lied. She fiddled with her boots, tugging on their laces like she expected they were loose. Siria felt Snape's glare on the back of her neck.

"It would be in your best interest to limit your time with him," Snape said. Siria gritted her teeth.

"Are we done here, sir?" Siria asked. She kept her gaze on the floor. "It is nearly curfew, after all."

"Since when do you care when curfew is, Potter-Black?" Snape asked. He did let her leave. Siria rushed out of the office. She swore every few steps, if not for the pain in her scar then for Snape's audacity.

Hermione and Ron waited for Siria in their usual spot by the fire. Siria squeezed into Hermione's chair, rather than push the Creevey Brothers out of theirs."That bad?" Hermione chuckled. Siria grumbled into Hermione's hair. "Why don't we go upstairs? You ought to clear your mind and lie down," Hermione suggested.

Siria dapped the balm Madam Pomfrey gave her on her scar. It dulled the pain some. Hermione sat on the floor beside Siria. "You have to clear your mind," Hermione repeated. "It's very weak right now, after getting attacked for so long."

"I'm trying," Siria said. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. In. Who was Snape to say who she could be friends with? Out. Malfoy didn't call her "pathetic". In. Would he be okay to join the others? Out. They talked about waiting until after Easter. In.

Happiness— no, elation. It was practically ecstasy. Her anger and frustrations were flushed out. She was happier than she had been in years. This was almost as good as that. It was better than the girl being dead. Yes. [B5, 541-542]

"Gah!" Siria cried as she came to. Hermione stood over her, pillow raised to attack again. "What the heck, Hermione?"

"You were laughing like a lunatic, Siria," said Hermione. "What happened? What did you see?"

"I didn't," said Siria. She paused. "I… I felt," her hand clutched her shirt. "Something terrible's happened; it's great for Voldemort, whatever it is, it isn't the prophecy and I'm obviously still alive." Hermione scrunched her her nose. Siria forced a smile.

"Just… let's try to clear our minds."