Author's Note: I am extremely sorry if I've made you wait for so long. I was a bit overwhelmed by your wonderful comments and I was fighting with myself whether or not I could make a decent chapter for you all to enjoy. Anyway, here's chapter four! Happy reading! :D

Chapter 4 – Fangirl

During Harry's second day at Snogwarts, he had a bit of trouble finding the correct classrooms. His first two classes were easy to find since he had Hairology with Zaynmione, and Care of Magical creatures with Liamold. However, his third class, Occlumency, was trickier to find on his own. Harry could hear the halls growing quieter as students strolling from all directions finally settled into their classrooms.

Harry cursed to himself quietly. "I'm late!"

"Are you lost, Mister Styler?" a friendly voice called from behind him. It was the headmistress, Professor Flackerdore.

"Erm…a bit…yeah," Harry finally admitted. He usually refused anyone's help and liked to figure things out for himself. But for some reason, in Professor Flackerdore's presence, he didn't mind acting a little vulnerable. "I have Occlu-"

"Occlumency," she emphasized on the 'men' part. "Well, lucky for you, you have that class with me."

"W-With you?" Harry stuttered.

"Yes, I am teaching that subject," she nodded. Professor Flackerdore then revealed one of her legs through a slit in her dress. She quickly covered it up once she saw Harry gazing at her upper thigh and carried on as if it were completely unintentional. "Is there a problem?" she cleared her throat and straightened herself.

"Um…" Harry forced himself to look up into her eyes instead of wandering off anywhere else. "N-No."

"Good," said Professor Flackerdore as the corners of her mouth twisted into a smile. She turned around, leaving the sound of her heels tapping against the floor throughout the empty hallway. "Please, follow me."

Harry gulped and clumsily tucked the piece of parchment containing his schedule into his pants pocket.

Professor Flackerdore led him up an elevating spiral staircase which brought them up into her office. Harry found empty chairs in front of her desk and carelessly plopped himself in one of the seats.

"So, where's everyone else?" Harry looked around the room. There was no sign of any other student. Only lifelike portraits that seemed to move and talk hung around her office. They appeared to be images of boy bands. One of the images portrayed a trio of curly haired boys in skinny jeans.

"The Jonas Brethrens," said Professor Flackerdore once she noticed Harry eyeing her posters. She put one hand on her chest and grinned proudly.

Harry then looked over to the next portrait.

"Ah, the Backstreet Blokes!" she clapped excitedly. "Oh, and 'N Pysch!"

She moved on to an image of four lads with bowl cuts.

"The Beedles," she laughed at herself. "As you can see, I am a bit of a boy band fanatic."

Harry just sat there and gave her a blank stare. You could almost hear the crickets chirping that came with the awkward silence.

"I can't wait for the next band that captures my young heart," she cleared her throat. "Anyway, where were we?"

"Occlumency," Harry reminded. "Am I honestly the only student taking this course?"

"There is something I haven't told you." Professor Flackerdore made a dramatic turn and lowered her face in front of his. "You are in grave danger, Mister Styler."

Harry was glued to his seat, prepared to listen.

"Last night," she began as she continued circling her desk. "We were contacted."

"By who?"

"You-Know-Lou," she whispered. "We don't know how he hacked into our communicating system…but never mind that, he's brilliant!"

"Well, what did he say? Did it concern me?"

"Harry, he threatened to kill you," she gripped his shoulders with her hands. "But I promise, as long as you are in Snogwarts, he won't touch a single curl on your pretty little head."

"Okay," was all Harry could say.

"We fear he might try to take control over your mind, brainwash you even. Ever since that incident when you last saw him, that moment he shot his wand towards you, a part of him sort of penetrated you. Bizarre, I know."

"He's inside me?" Harry crinkled his forehead.

"Bits and pieces, yes." Professor Flackerdore ruffled his curls. "So, it is possible you might have inherited some of his traits."

Harry had never felt more disgusted in his life. Just the thought of You-Know-Lou inside of him made his skin crawl. The man that murdered his own parents was a part of him.

"Shall we begin the lesson?" Professor Flackerdore brought him back to the present.

He nodded his head.

"I will now try to enter your mind," she raised her wand. "And you must do everything in your power to resist. Close off your emotions and prevent me from seeing anything you don't want to be seen."

Harry slowly closed his eyes, waiting for whatever it was she was going to do to him.

"LEGILIMENS!" she shouted as her wand triggered Harry's mind.

Harry gasped as he felt another presence in his head. Visions and flashbacks of random memories came rushing back to life, being pried opened with his control. All he could do was watch helplessly.

"Concentrate, Mister Styler!" Professor Flackerdore instructed. "Shut me out! Feel nothing!"

Aunt Pantaloonia fussing over his presence in her home, Hogrid holding his hand, and the first time he laid eyes on the castle of Snogwarts. All of these images were no longer private. Professor Flackerdore could see them all now too. Harry quickly shook his head once he realized she could envision everything he could visualize also. Once he could see his mind heading towards the memory of his eye wandering up and down her exposed leg, he forced himself to think of his disgusting hairy cousin, Grudley, and cringed at the thought.

"I think that's enough for the day," said the headmistress as she lowered her wand. "We're making good progress. The way you instantly changed your train of thought in order to prevent me from seeing something you didn't want me to see, good thinking."

"You noticed that?" asked Harry, feeling his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"I thought I saw my… never mind that," she chuckled. "A lot of students fancy me, it's alright!"

Harry blushed and quickly headed off to his next class.

"Harry! Harry! Over here!" Zaynmione waved her hand once she caught a glimpse of him entering the room. She was standing on a three-tiered choral riser with dozens of other students around her.

"No," Liamold argued. "Stand next to me!"

Harry turned his head back and forth, literally panicking over which friend he should listen to. He didn't want to hurt any of their feelings, so he decided to stand next to a random student.

"Hello, class!" a man wearing a striped robe revealed himself and stood before them. "You can call me Professor Tommo."

Zaynmione's hand immediately shot up. "I'm sorry, but it says here in my schedule that Professor Hummingbird is supposed to be teaching this course." She pointed at the piece of parchment in her hands while the other students rolled their eyes.

"She's sick," Professor Tommo simply replied. "Apparently, she couldn't get out of bed this morning, let alone croak a word. Practically a vegetable!"

Zaynmione raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but she remained silent.

"For our first class together, I thought it would be fun to start off with one of my favourite songs," said Professor Tommo. "It's called, 'Torn'. Anyone familiar with it?"

All of the students shook their heads, including Harry.

"Well, if you would all look at the sheet music in front of you," the professor instructed as he snapped his fingers and made the sheets appear out of thin air. "Then we can all begin. It's alright if your voice isn't perfect, we're all learning here." He shimmied his way down to a bench and began playing the piano. He then raised one of his hands and motioned for his students to start singing.

"I thought I saw a girl brought to life…" everyone chimed. "She was warm, she came around … she was dignified."

For the first few bars, Harry was lip-syncing. Although the boy loved to sing, nobody had ever told him he was any good. If anything, his aunt and uncle would usually tell him to shut up. But throughout all of the bullying his own family put him through, ironically enough, he found comfort in singing. He loved every moment he spent in the shower, singing his heart out as if he was having his own concert. He would even hum quietly in his room in the cupboard under the stairs when he thought everyone else would be asleep. Harry could feel the music in his soul, but he wasn't too sure about sharing his gift with the rest of the world if they would be as judgemental as his relatives.

"You don't seem to know or seem to care what your heart is for…" the rest of the class belted out.

Harry looked around the room, seeing passionate faces giving their all until he could no longer take it. His entire body was aching to sing.

"THERE'S NOTHING LEFT, I USED TO CRY. MY CONVERSATION HAS RUN DRY," Harry finally sang. It felt good to release his voice. "THAT'S WHAT'S GOING OOOON! NOTHING'S FINE, I'M TOOOOOOOOORN!" Indeed, he could feel some eyes staring at him, but he simply didn't care. He just loved what he was doing and lost himself in the music.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Professor Tommo ordered.

Harry immediately shut his mouth.

"You!" the professor stepped towards him.

"Me?" Harry croaked.

"Yes, you," Professor Tommo nodded his head. "I could hear you the most."

"Um, sorry," Harry assumed he was in trouble as he lowered his head in shame. "Was I too loud?"

"No, you silly boy," the professor shook his head and chuckled. "That was extraordinary!"