Harry stood in the memory of the class room and watched his fallen mentor perform the spell again.
The long lecture that preceded the practical demonstration had been informative, but quite boring, as all school room lectures tended to be to Harry, especially when he couldn't ask any questions.
An immensely long whip of flame grew from the end of Dumbledore's wand as he performed the complicated spell. Magic wouldn't work for Harry while he was immersed in the memory, but he could practice the wand movements and watch from every angle as the ancient wizard performed the casting.
"This is a very powerful and dangerous spell that should only be used in the direst of situations," the old man intoned for what must have been the hundredth time.
Harry sighed and stopped the memory with a command. He had not yet had much luck at making the spell work, despite the excellent reference of the Pensieve memory. This particular spell had saved them from the Inferi and almost beaten Voldemort in the battle at the Ministry, so Harry was sure it would have been usefully against the vampires, or in any of the other battles he had fought.
Despite his disappointment in the chest of memories, there could be no doubt it was proving its value in training, for Harry as well as the D.A. .
Exiting the memory, he was slightly startled to find Kreacher waiting patiently for him with a drink.
"Young Master is always thirsty after entering the strange pool," said the elf, holding out a cup.
He had been much politer and very well behaved since returning, referring to Harry as the Young Master, and Ron as Young Master's friend, but Harry didn't really trust him, especially since Hermione still didn't receive any respect at all, and barely any recognition.
"Thank you, Kreacher," said Harry taking the cup but not drinking from it. "Can you tell me if Ron and Hermione have returned yet, please?"
Kreacher stiffened slightly and Harry realised he had again offended the elf by saying please. It was very difficult to break a lifetime of habit, but Dobby told him Kreacher would respond better if Harry treated him 'more like a house-elf and less like a real-person'. Manners were not something Kreacher was used to, not after a decade of Mrs. Black's insane portrait, and her equally insane presence prior to that.
"Young Master's friend be in the kitchen stuffing his face, again, and the other one is touching the library, again," answered Kreacher, not able to resist a slight insult and sneer. "Young Master's friend is saying he needs to be eating more food after shopping than is usual. Kreacher doesn't see the difference."
Ron had being surprisingly frugal with spending his share of the treasure, no doubt due to the influence of Hermione, who had been more concerned with starting a relief effort for the people they left behind. Harry knew Ron had surprised his family with some money and gifts, but had no idea what he told them, about the source of his new wealth.
"Ask them to join me for dinner as soon as they are free," Harry instructed, careful to word his request in way that would not have the still disagreeable elf drag either of his friends into the room 'at the master's request'.
As soon as Kreacher left, Harry tipped his drink into a flower pot. Kreacher may have been showing all the signs of a remarkable turn around, but he wasn't taking any chances yet.
Harry had managed to think up a way to keep Kreacher out of the way most of the time. He had convinced, and also ordered, the old elf to leave caring for the inside of the house to Winky, and to take care of the outside, which was still sorely in need of maintenance. He had even managed to relocate the elf to a cot in the garage so there was no need for him to enter the kitchen regularly. The arrangement was working out well with Kreacher seeming to enjoy the challenge battling the fierce garden gave him.
"We are not getting any further, are we?" he asked the other two, when they were all seated at the dinner table digging into the feast they had come to expect from Winky.
Hermione protested Harry's gloomy statement, pointing out that they had made much more progress than Dumbledore had done in the same amount of time, but Ron, ever the realist, agreed with him.
The clincher, as far as Harry was concerned, was when the ridiculously powerful acid they had purchased failed to do anything to the cup or the locket, besides clean the dirt off.
"It's just too big a job," the redhead said. "We need help, Harry."
"Is that what you think too, Hermione?" asked Harry.
She let out a sigh and nodded her head sadly.
"There are just too many places and rumours to follow up," she said. "It would take us years just to chase after the most recent ones, even with the D.A., and that doesn't leave us time for anything else."
Harry nodded silently, deep in thought. He was completely opposed to letting anybody know what they were doing, despite the sudden lack of progress. The danger of Voldemort finding out what he was doing far out weighed any benefit to be gained in getting others into the picture.
"We can't trust anybody," he said. "Somebody like Snape might be able to pick it out of their heads without even trying."
"That could happen to us too," said Hermione. "Without Occlumency training we are all venerable."
"There's nothing in the memories then?" asked Ron.
"Nothing we can use," answered Harry. He had immediately looked for anything to do with the obscure art, but had only found how to cast the Legilimency spell, and even that hadn't made a lot of sense to him.
"There is one person we might be able to ask," he said. "Somebody who is a master Occlumens, and who might be able to teach us and the others."
Both of his friends stared at him blankly, so he continued.
"This person also already knows about the Horcruxes-"
"Professor Slughorn!" yelled Hermione, too excited at guessing to let Harry finish.
"That old coot?" asked Ron. Harry knew he hadn't taken to the rotund professor, neither had Harry for that matter. "You'll have to turn over a lot of rocks to find him, I'd say."
Harry nodded, but Hermione was too excited to sit still. "I know how we can find him," she said, and then rushed off without explaining anything more.
"Should we be following her?" asked Harry, not moving from his seat.
"Dunno," answered Ron, taking another bite from the pie he was eating for afters. "Chances are if we were meant to she'd yell at us-"
"Come on you two," yelled Hermione, from down the hall.
Ron sighed and stuffed the remains of the pie into his mouth before getting up and heading out after his girlfriend. Harry laughed and followed.
Hermione's method of contacting Slughorn involved a rather convoluted process of contacting many of the people he loved to 'name drop' or invite to his 'Slug Club' parties. In each letter she asked them to let her know if they had anyway to contact the slightly recalcitrant man, supposedly because she had some potions ingredients she was trying use for an extra credit assignment and wanted his advice.
Harry and Ron had the task of writing the envelopes and addressing them, which was the majority of work since Hermione wrote one letter and the charmed a quill to copy it a few dozen times.
In a surprisingly short time, they had received several replies, all negative. On the third day though, the letter Hermione was expecting arrived - Slughorn himself had answered. The temptation to possibility to obtain something as exotic as the Basilisk skin was just too great for the Professor to resist. He suggested she contact him via Floo, and gave her an address to call him on.
When she made the call, the Professor was wary, especially when Hermione refused to explain the situation over the Floo and insisted on arranging a meeting. Harry was concerned with the possibility of the conversation being monitored, and so was Slughorn, making discussing specific details difficult.
Eventually, Hermione worked out a way to meet with the Professor, and took Harry along to make his pitch. Ron was to follow under his invisibility cloak, but not too closely since Slughorn was a suspicious man.
The small Muggle café in outer London proved to be a popular spot, with many people coming and going. Hours before the meeting was due to occur, Ron set himself up on top of a building across the road with a pair of the Omnioculars. He had a master coin charmed like the D.A. coins that would warm up Harry's and Hermione's coins if he saw anything he thought was suspicious. Harry kept his coin in the pocket of his shirt where he could feel it. Likewise, Hermione wore hers under her top on a neck chain.
Harry and Hermione were both wearing disguises, with Hermione wearing a colourful flower in her tied back hair that looked perfectly acceptable from a Muggle point of view, but was really a symbol for Slughorn to recognise her by. When the professor arrived they discovered he had also taken some fairly elaborate steps to disguise himself.
The normally portly Professor appeared positively obese in some seriously out of style muggle clothing. A huge hat covered a thick mop of black hair, and a matching beard and moustache completed his transformation. If it hadn't been for the carnation in his lapel, Harry would never have picked him out, except as a possible escapee from a comedy movie.
The professor fussed over the excellent food and beverages in the café, almost drawing attention to himself with his exuberant compliments.
Over a drawn out meal, Harry explained why they had really contacted him, apologising for misleading him, but convincing him it was more dangerous for anybody to guess he was really meeting with Harry and not just Hermione. They made sure to cast the Prince's Muffliato spell to keep the conversation private, but had to keep cancelling it when Slughorn continually called the waitress for service.
It took all of Harry's persuasiveness and Hermione's flattery to get the Professor to agree to help them.
"Professor, I am going to tell you something now, something that you don't want to hear," said Harry. "I know about the Horcruxes, and I know you helped Riddle by answering his questions when he was still a student."
Slughorn's face went white and he opened his mouth to protest, but Harry pressed on, ignoring the older man's reaction.
"Dumbledore told me you are a master Occlumens, and we need to learn how to protect our thoughts from Legilimens, because we are going after the Horcruxes, all six of them, then Voldemort himself."
Slughorn was stunned to silence, his mouth moving silently making the words six, over and over again, so Hermione jumped in.
"Professor, we know you can teach us, and we can't let anybody else know what we are doing. You are easily the best potions teacher we have ever had, and you can obviously be trusted to keep secrets," she said, distracting him with praise. "We just know you can help us."
Horace finally found his voice. "Are you mad? Don't you understand how dangerous what you are proposing to do is? Or how difficult it will be?"
The potions master shook his head. "It is insanity. You can't possibly hope to discover where that monster has hidden them or overcome the steps he would certainly have taken to protect them. It's impossible."
"Professor," said Harry firmly. "If we can't do it, then we have to make sure to tell somebody else, somebody like the Ministry or the Aurors. Do you really want your part in the making of Voldemort to become common knowledge?"
Slughorn looked torn between outrage, anger and fear - his involuntary jump as Harry said the most feared name in the world countering his initial reaction to Harry's words.
"If you helped us, and we were successful, imagine how much better it would look for you," said Hermione. "But if we fail, imagine what both sides would think of the part you have played so far. First telling Riddle how to become immortal, then telling Harry what you had done-"
"I did not such thing," protested Slughorn.
"-and finally refusing to help us by teaching us Occlumency. It will look bad to everyone. But if you help us, I am sure Harry would be willing to let everybody know how you were instrumental in our success."
"Or I could conveniently forget you had any part in it at all, if you prefer," suggested Harry.
Slughorn was still torn. Harry could see him weighing each possibility, and considered that the man might even be tempted to turn him over to Voldemort, if he could not be convinced to help them. More likely was that he might just disappear to never be found again.
"And I'll pay you of course, for the lessons," Harry added.
"Pay?" asked Slughorn, apparently thrown off balance by Harry's offer.
"Of course, Professor," said Hermione, smoothly taking Harry's queue. "We realise your time and tuition are valuable. We wouldn't imagine asking you to help us without recompense."
"Would two thousand Galleons to teach three or four of us be enough?" asked Harry. "Just for as long as it takes over the summer of course."
Slughorn's mouth moved for a second, making the shapes of 'two thousand galleons', but no noise came out. In truth, Harry had no idea how much money this was. He guessed he had that much left in what he had originally taken from his vault, but it was just that, a guess. The amount must have meant a bit to the professor, considering his reaction.
Eventually he snapped out of it and cleared his throat. "My dear boy, I couldn't possibly help you run off on such a dangerous and foolish crusade, but I can see no harm in helping you with some extra-curricular studies, for academic purposes of course."
Harry grinned. "That would be much appreciated, Professor."
They worked out the details, including where to have daily lessons. Harry did not want to take Slughorn to Grimmauld place, so they agreed to meet at the Muggle house where the professor was currently boarding, unsuspected and rent free of course.
They signalled for Ron to join them, and Slughorn took them there, for their first lesson.
"No point in waiting until tomorrow," he said, puffing himself up. "If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly, although this is going to take more than one or two lessons."
Harry stared at him in confusion, but Hermione just nodded, obviously understanding the comment.
-
The Muggle house he took them to had been decorated exactly the same as the house Harry had first met the professor in. 'Fussy old lady furniture' and a multitude of signed photos filled the modern looking building, making the inside as different from the outside as possible.
Clearing a space in the middle of the room and conjuring chairs for them, Slughorn fussed about preparing drinks and snacks (which Ron was immensely grateful for, having had to watch while the others had been eating) and then took a seat in front of them. The scene eerily reminded Harry of the setting just before Slughorn had told Riddle about Horcruxes.
"There are certain aspects of Occlumency that cannot be taught," the Professor said, swirling a large glass of drink in his hand. "I can teach you the theory, and what exercises you may perform to try and close off you mind from casual or even direct assault, but for every person it is different, and so I can only guide you."
For the next two hours Slughorn spoke to them about the art of Occlumency and answered their questions quite thoroughly. He covered aspects ranging from the simple idea of calming thoughts by a form of meditation, through to the ideal state where a person is able to build a completely false 'mind' for the attacker to see in place of the real mind and thoughts.
Harry forced himself to concentrate, finally having access to the teaching Snape had neglected. Hermione was sitting eagerly on the edge of her seat, furiously scribbling notes as she slipped back into her school persona without a slip. Ron appeared to have almost fallen asleep several times. Luckily Slughorn didn't notice, or ignored it if he had.
"The most important thing to understand is that you must be in control of your thoughts," he said. "This is fundamental. The best way I have found that works is a form of memory organisation and storage called a memory mansion."
"This idea is to construct a building in your mind. In a moment I will give you each a potion. It is a mild sedative and hallucinogenic that I keep handy for, er, other purposes. I will also caste a mild compulsion spell to aid you, do not fight it. You will close your eyes and imagine every aspect of the place you build. See the materials it is built of, think of all the places within, be they rooms or cupboards. You will learn to store memories into these rooms, with each room or place being associated with a particular memory, or type of memory, so make sure there is a reason for every room."
Harry was hesitant at taking the potion and Hermione seemed to also be a bit worried, as she immediately questioned the Professor.
"It is just a little juice from the Mexican Slumber tree mixed with a bit of Canadian Walking Cactus and few other bits and pieces," he answered. "I have found it most useful for relaxing the mind and allowing the imagination to become somewhat flexible. In the past, it has proven to be an invaluable aide in mental exercises, although considered unorthodox by many, and a sign of weakness of the spirit to a few."
"Think of it as a tool to hasten your training," he said, holding out a cup. "After all, you don't really have months just to master the first steps, do you?"
They each took a small sip, drinking the translucent blue mixture that strangely didn't really have any taste, but felt slightly 'rough' as it went down; a bit like strong alcohol.
Harry obediently closed his eyes, after noticing that Ron's eyes were already closed (although possibly not because the professor had suggested it, but because Ron was catching another nap). The whispered spell caste by Slughorn was too quiet for Harry to hear the incantation, but he felt its gentle effects working into his mind, and he had to fight the instinct to immediately throw it off.
"Hermione, my dear, what do you see?" asked Slughorn.
"A Library," she answered softly, not surprising Harry in the least and earning a quiet snort from Ron, although it could have been a snore.
"Excellent! Can you see the shelves? Are they numbered and lettered and all separated into subjects, ready for you to put memories into their places? Yes? Excellent work, but I would expect nothing less from you."
"Ronald," he said next, sounding slightly dubious. "What has your mind built then?"
"A Quidditch stadium," answered Ron, making Harry smile. "There are rows and rows of seats, with lots of sections, just like the world cup."
"Excellent, my boy! Excellent indeed." Slughorn seemed genuinely surprised and pleased.
"And finally, Harry. What has your ample imagination supplied you with, eh?"
Harry's vision had blurred as the potion seeped into his blood and the spell worked on him. Wild patterns of colour danced behind his closed lids, slowly forming into recognisable shapes. It took a moment for him to understand what it was he was looking at, but soon enough there was no doubt.
"Hogwarts," he said, his voicing catching with emotion. "I can see Hogwarts."
-
They returned to Slughorn every day for large portions of the daylight hours, and spent their nights in a potion induced mediative state, sorting and organising their memories before filing them into the new frame of reference. Surprisingly, Ron found the exercise the easiest to achieve, and also seemed to be getting the most out of the training, while Hermione struggled. Harry fell somewhere in the middle, finding the task difficult, but not impossible, and discovering how much better he was able to find and recall memories once he had filed them away.
"It is because you already have such an excellently organised mind, child," Slughorn explained to a slightly put out Hermione. "Whereas Ronald has gotten along well enough with the usual chaos and confusion most people live with, you have to overcome an established, methodical system that has served you so amazingly well. It is nothing to be ashamed or disappointed about – quite the contrary really."
For Harry, the vast majority of his memories were already somehow tied into the building his subconscious had made for the memory mansion.
Nothing from Privet drive was of particular importance, so he tended to file it all into a series of dungeon cells. Each of the branches of magic already had their areas within the castle, making it easier for him to split them into separate classrooms depending on the category. Even his day to day memories of his friends were associated with some part of the castle, usually Gryffindor tower.
The crash course was almost overwhelming though. Never before had Harry or the others been so immersed in a single area of study, to the exclusion of everything else.
Eventually they progressed to the point where Slughorn declared they were ready to start having the Legilimens spell cast on them. This was the part the Harry was dreading the most. Snape's rampaging through his memories had conditioned Harry to an automatic fear of the spell, despite Slughorn's reassurances and training.
"Legilimens!" the professor said softly, once again plunging Harry into an uncontrolled series of memories.
Dudley beating a boy who had talked to Harry at school while somebody else held Harry back, Vernon yelling how useless Harry was because he couldn't reach the roof of the car to clean it, Snape berating Harry for not knowing what he would get if he added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood-
The familiar blackness of unconsciousness receded as Harry found himself lying on the floor with Ron leaning over him.
"Ge'oorf," he managed to say, pushing the worried looking man away.
Ron smiled and helped him sit up. "He's all right."
Harry saw Slughorn looking shocked and quite a bit paler than normal, and then he noticed Hermione standing to the side with her wand drawn and pointing at the worried professor.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"You seem to have had a rather bad reaction to the spell," Slughorn said, nervously casting a glance at Hermione.
"Happens everytime," Harry said. "Snape knocked me down a dozen times a night."
Hermione still looked wary, but lowered her wand. "Sorry, Professor," she said. "I guess I over reacted."
"Quite all right, me dear, and perfectly understandable. I can assure you, it was not the reaction I was expecting either," said Slughorn.
"Harry," the Professor said turning his attention back to Harry. "I have never met anybody whose mind could be so easily violated. This is not something that should happen normally, or I would have warned you. I am so sorry, my boy."
Harry shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness of the spell.
"Snape," he said. "He's done something to me, made it easier for Voldemort to get in."
Slughorn looked positively confused and slightly terrified at Harry's words. "Get in?" he asked.
"In my fifth year, when Dumbledore told Snape to train me, he just used to attack me and tell me to resist. I got worse as time went by, and Voldemort was able to send false visions to me," explained Harry. "Completely messed up my History of Magic O.W.L."
"Like you had a Puffskein's chance in hell of passing that anyway," laughed Ron.
Slughorn somehow managed to look even more upset at the thought of Harry getting visions from Voldemort, but hurriedly chose to move on, casting the spell on both Ron and Hermione. The two managed to get some control of their memories, pushing Slughorn out after only a few seconds.
"Of course, this is crudest of attacks," said the Professor. "Subtlety is the sign of a true master Legilimens, and it is often possible for the victim to never know his thoughts have been exposed, but by showing you what to look for, you will, in time, be able to keep in control and instantly recognise any intrusion for what it is."
"Now, Harry. We are going to have to try it again, but this time I will keep the spell to a bare minium and only look for recent memories. Try and concentrate on one particular memory, something to distract me."
Harry brought his thoughts to a state of calm, just as he had been taught. He no longer needed the potion for this step, although it had not helped the first time Slughorn had cast the spell. Concentrating on what he had eaten from breakfast that morning, Harry signalled he was ready.
"Legilimens!"
Instantly he felt his thoughts begin to twist out of his control. Fighting to keep them on his meal that morning, other images began to jump in and replace it. The cup sitting full of a smoking acid - the locket gleaming brightly as they removed it, unscathed, from its cleansing acid bath - the targets in the range at Grimmauld place getting obliterated as he worked off his frustration - Ginny as he had last seen her.
"Stop!" he cried, falling to the ground again but not losing consciousness.
Ron helped him up and pressed a cup into his hands. Harry gratefully drank the cool water as sat back down in the chair.
"That was markedly better," said Slughorn, looking rather excited. "But I have to ask you, Harry. Where did you see such fine replicas of the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff and the Locket of Salazar Slytherin?"
Hermione gasped and Ron hissed, both reaching for their wands as Harry's cup crashed to the floor and his own wand joined those of his friends.
"How do you know what they were?" Ron asked the startled professor, voicing the question all three were thinking.
Slughorn nearly toppled over as, for the second time that day, he was threatened.
"You had better answer, Professor," Hermione said. "We have spent a lot of time researching those artefacts and information is very scarce to come by."
"Almost as scarce as information about Horcruxes," Harry said meaningfully.
Slughorn's eyes, already large with fright, suddenly became truly enormous as Harry's words sunk in.
"They are the real items? He used them? He used them, as Hor-, Hor-, Horcruxes?" the Professor stumbled.
"Tell us what you know about them, Professor," said Harry. "And tell us how you know."
Slughorn eyed the wands warily, sweat appearing on his brow. "Perhaps we should all just calm down, shall we."
"Just start talking," said Ron, managing to sound quite threatening.
"It is an old story," said Slughorn, perspiring even more. "I once read it in Hogwarts, A History in my youth-"
"Nonsense," said Hermione. "I know that book backwards and there is nothing about them in there."
"Please, dear girl," said Slughorn looking pleadingly into her eyes. "It was in my youth, and it was a very old copy, even at that time - ancient you might say." He gave a nervous laugh, then hurriedly continued when nobody joined him. "There were four objects, meant to have been interred with the Founders at their gravesite, in Hogwarts-"
"There is no graveyard at Hogwarts," said Ron. "There's only Dumbledore's tomb."
"Please children, I am merely relating the story…"
Harry indicated with his wand to proceed, still not daring to say anything as his heart beat wildly in his chest. Slughorn cleared his throat and regained a bit of his composure, as he began in what Harry recognised as his lecturing voice.
"It was said each of the Founders chose a special personal object and poured much power into them, sealing inside the very same spirit that can be felt inside the walls of Hogwarts, which they had enchanted in the same way. On their respective deaths, the objects were supposed to be placed with them in their resting places, but only Godric's sword actually remained at the school, ready to be summoned when something extremely dangerous threatened the castle. You may have seen it in the Headmaster's office in a glass case behind his desk-"
Harry couldn't help himself and snorted a short laugh at the comment, but Slughorn continued his story.
"Slytherin took his locket with him when he broke from the others, refusing to abide by the original bargain he had made when building the school-"
"Big surprise that one," said Ron, earning a glare from Hermione. Slughorn barely noticed.
"Both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's families chose to take the heirlooms for safe keeping, since they were vessels of great power. Nobody knows what happened to them for sure."
"What was the fourth object," Hermione asked. Harry could see her mind working away furiously. "Ravenclaw's what was it?"
"A staff. The Staff of Knowledge. The Sword of the Just, the Cup of Wisdom, the Locket of Cunning, and the Staff of Knowledge, those were the objects, long dismissed as mere myth."
"Collectively, they were called the Hallows of Hogwarts."
-
The trio, especially Hermione, spent more time interrogating the Professor, who tried to be helpful as he realised just how serious they were. Finally when they had as many answers as they were likely to get, Hermione stepped forward, wand again outstretched.
"I am sorry, Professor," she said. "But I know you would prefer it this way."
"Obliviate!"
-
"Well then," said Slughorn shaking the confused and dazed look from his eyes. "I guess that is enough for today, since I seem to be dozing off a bit myself. Same time tomorrow?"
"Actually I think we might be a bit busy tomorrow," said Harry. "How about we pick this up in two days time?"
"Very well, but be sure to practice controlling your thoughts, and keep filing away your memories, especially you Harry. We may need to do something a bit more drastic to get over the damage you seem to have suffered," said Slughorn, seemingly completely unaware of the conversation they had been having.
"That was brilliant, Hermione," said Ron as they returned to Grimmauld place. "When did you get the time to learn how to do that?"
"Thank you, Ron. We need to concentrate on finding out as much as we can about the Staff, now that we know specifically what we are looking for."
Harry tuned out the conversation. Slughorn's revelations had been exciting, and a major breakthrough in their hunt, but he couldn't turn his back on the fact he was almost completely defenceless when it came to somebody using Legilimency on him.
"I am going out for a while," he said leaving the room and heading for the library.
"Off to see Ginny again?" asked Ron, with a broad smile on his face.
He had become much more relaxed about Harry's relationship with the youngest Weasley, especially after Hermione 'read him the riot act' after one ill thought out comment.
"Yeah," smiled Harry.
When he Apparated, it was with the blood ritual book from the secret library under his shirt.
"Ginny," he said, luckily finding the redhead at the D.A. Base. "I need your help. I need you to help me do a ritual."