Harry Potter and The Fate We Make
Chapter 16: Orders and Occlumency
A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Underlined is parseltongue
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July 20, 1995
Harry woke a touch more quietly this time, in that he at least managed to get out of bed without nearly braining himself or breaking an ankle. "Crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP!" He snarled, pacing around the room, fighting the urge to rub his scar as the pain faded. There was, really, not much he could do. Snape would either make it back to Hogwarts or not ... Harry had no idea where that meeting had taken place, other than a large, gloomy room. Worse, it was Snape. Harry was quite sure that any attempts at helping that man on his part would be rather violently rejected, even if Harry could come up with something to do. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, yanking on it a bit in frustration.
"Why am I seeing this stuff?" He asked the room at large. "First the attack on that street, now this. It makes no sense!" He huffed in aggravation and flung himself back onto the bed so hard he bounced. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment and sighed. "Guess this means another chat with Dumbledore." He muttered.
Eventually, he collapsed again into a far more uneasy sleep, and woke in a grumpy mood later in the morning to find the house invaded en masse by the Order. Evidently, Snape had made it back to Hogwarts and kicked over the hornet's nest, though Harry didn't see Snape himself right away. At least, not until he managed to get into the kitchen for some breakfast. He found Snape there, sitting in a chair in the corner with a cup of tea at his elbow. Despite the enmity between them, Harry couldn't help but feel bad for the man. As pale as he normally was, this morning Snape was positively bloodless, and he was sitting painfully rigidly, as if he was trying to stop himself from sagging or trembling by main force. At a complete loss as to what (if anything) to say, Harry opted for simply grabbing some food and sitting at the table, well away from Snape. Snape, for his part, seemed content to ignore Harry's existence rather than engage in a verbal attack.
The moment Harry heard Dumbledore's voice, he headed out of the kitchen, and forcibly dragged Dumbledore aside, though clearly Dumbledore wasn't entirely unwilling to be dragged, as Harry wasn't fool enough to think he could force the Headmaster to do something against his will.
"Sir ... I saw what happened last night." Harry kept his voice down. "To Snape, I mean."
Dumbledore looked very grave. "I see. I have attempted to do some research since the last time, but unfortunately, curse scars such as yours are quite rare, and information is exceedingly scarce. The only thing I have been able to come up with that might help is Occlumency, a mind art that allows you to defend your mind. I shall have to ask Professor Snape ... "
At that point, Harry interrupted. "No. Not Snape. We can barely manage to be in the same room without insults flying. There's no way we'd manage to deal with each other civilly long enough for him to teach me Occlumency." At least he managed to say that without making it sound like Snape was wholly to fault, which Dumbledore would take issue with, despite the truth of it. Harry hadn't gotten grumpy with Snape until after Snape had got nasty with him. And while Harry was willing to at least try to let bygones be bygones, he sincerely doubted that Snape would be so inclined, which would make the whole thing an exercise in futility. "Surely someone else in the Order knows how to do it? Like Moody? As paranoid as he is, I really can't imagine him not knowing how to keep people out of his mind." And while Harry was entirely convinced that Moody was nuts, they got along worlds better than Harry and Snape ever had.
Dumbledore sighed, but admitted, if only to himself, that Harry had a point. Two, actually. "I shall speak with Alastor, then."
By the time they got to the dining room and the meeting, Snape had managed to get there. The meeting was mostly a quiet affair. Since there was absolutely nothing Voldemort could do about the house elf warning system, Snape was given the information and allowed to pass it on. Hopefully, knowing that the muggleborns were being watched, and the Order could arrive within seconds of the Death Eaters no matter which of them they chose to target would keep Voldemort from attacking them, at least for a little while.
It was a widely grinning Remus, though, who brought their attention to the morning paper. "Seems the Lady Longbottom and Lord Weasley had entirely too much fun rattling the hornet's nest yesterday." He said as he tossed a copy onto the table.
INNOCENTS IN AZKABAN?
The title screamed, splashed across the entire front of the paper. There was a picture of Azkaban along one side of the writing. Harry snatched it up before anyone else managed to. Moody, a few seats down, grinned at him. "Well, lad, read it for us." He demanded. Harry grinned, and did so.
"This is the question that was raised at the start of the summer Wizengamot session, by none other than the esteemed Lady Longbottom. In a stirring address, she called the Wizengamot at large to task for their, in her own words 'slipshod manner in which the law has been upheld by this august body."
In particular, she brought forward the lack of funds for the DMLE, and then, in a revelation that rocked the Wizengamot, revealed that at least one man, Hogwart's own Rubeus Hagrid, had been imprisoned without trial for a crime it was later proven that he did not commit. That he, in fact, had been proclaimed guilty without benefit of a trial for this same crime once before, resulting in the snapping of the man's wand.
If it can happen once, this reporter wonders just how many times it has happened. This same question clearly occurred to the Lady Longbottom, as she asked the Wizengamot to examine the cases of all inmates to ensure that proper legal procedure had been followed. Lady Longbottom and Lord Weasley were chosen to lead the committee that was then formed to look into the matter."
Harry was jubilant. Step one of Augusta's plan had, clearly, gone off without a hitch. That this plan had the power to give justice to two people Harry was deeply fond of just made him all the happier. The only thing keeping him from bouncing in his seat like an overeager five year old was Snape's presence.
The article caused a lot of chatter among the Order members. Some were worried that the committee would end up giving truly guilty people a shot at getting free, but no one could argue to the necessity of it. Both Hagrid and Sirius had fallen afoul of people not following the law ... there was no telling how many other people had fallen victim. It was far and away time for their voices to be heard. The only thing that troubled Harry, and deeply, was the fact it was necessary at all. Surely Dumbledore, with all his titles, power, and influence, could have ensured that the right thing was done? Had it really been so impossible a task? The implications of the question troubled him, and right now, he just wanted to be gleeful that steps were being taken to right wrongs.
"Hagrid's going to be tickled pink about this." Harry finally said, ignoring the other person who'd be pleased if his name was cleared in the interest of not being treated to a Snape snark. Still, he grinned broadly in Sirius' direction. Sirius, for his part, looked torn between delight and not wanting to get his hopes up.
The meeting broke up a few minutes later. Dumbledore pulled Moody aside and spoke to him quietly, and the Weasley kids and Tonks headed for Diagon Alley and wand shopping. A few minutes later, Moody stumped over.
"Dumbledore says you need to learn Occlumency. I'll be here tomorrow at ten." And then he stumped off again, Dumbledore at his heels, leaving the house to just Harry, Remus, Sirius, the elder Weasleys, Ron and Hermione
Harry decided to use the relatively quiet time to attempt to mediate on his animagus form, and headed for his room. He didn't get much of anywhere, unfortunately, before the Weasleys returned, all three of them bouncing like they'd gone insane (or in the case of the twins, more insane) and brandishing their new wands at everyone with great glee. It was quickly and unanimously decided to head for the dueling room to practice.
The results were ... stunning. They decided to do some simpler spells, aiming at dummies. Good thing too. The first Expelliarmus that Fred shot at one of the dummies not only knocked the 'wand' out of its hand, but blasted the dummy backwards a good twenty feet and into the far wall.
"Whoah." Fred was staring at his wand like he thought it was going to reach up and bite him. "That was ... "
"Yeah." Harry agreed, staring at the mangled and broken dummy. The others were nodding in agreement. "Right. Somehow, I think you guys better start at the beginning."
The next hour was pure chaos. Even Wingardium Leviosa was going wrong, slamming the feathers into the ceiling or walls like it was a guided missile. By the time they called it quits, Ron was frowning.
"I didn't have this much trouble with my new wand." He commented.
"Yeah, mate, but you really only had your old wand for a year. It was busted all of second, remember?" Harry pointed out. "Fred and George had their old wands for six years. Ginny's had hers for three."
Ron made a face. "Yeah, guess that would make a difference, wouldn't it?"
They trooped into the kitchen for dinner, then immediately returned to the dueling room. By the time they called it a night, Ginny seemed to be getting a handle on tossing spells with her new wand, and the twins were, while not back in control, at least doing a bit less damage.
And again that night, Harry dreamed.
It was the same room, but this time, only an unmasked Pettigrew was in attendance. One long, bony hand stroked Nagini's head.
"So, Wormtail. The old fool it seems is not quite so much a fool as he would have us believe. He protects the mudbloods. Quite ingeniously, I will admit. So one target is denied us for now. Yet I wonder, Wormtail ... can the old fool protect everyone? A change of targets is required, Wormtail. I shall have to ponder where best to strike next."
"T-t-there are o-other mudb-bloods, my lord." Pettigrew offered.
"Do you think I am unaware of this?" The yew wand lifted threateningly, and Pettigrew flung himself at Voldemort's feet, gibbering for mercy. The wand lowered, unused. "The matter is not who to attack. It is when and how. These things must be done with a certain amount of style, Wormtail, in order to be remembered."
Master, I am hungry.
The long hand gave Nagini's head an extra pat. "Nagini is hungry, Wormtail. Fetch her something ... juicy."
Pettigrew scrambled to his feet with alacrity and fled. Voldemort's stroking of Nagini never faltered.
"He is a fool, a coward, and a weakling, but he does have his uses." Voldemort mused aloud.
He smells of prey
"You may not eat him. For now. But if he fails to be of use, he will make a fine meal for you."
Nagini hissed in pleasure, and when Pettigrew returned, dragging the freshly-dead body of a young woman, Nagini snapped playfully at him.
"Now now, Nagini. Manners." Voldemort scolded, but he sounded amused. Wormtail just cringed and got as far away from Nagini and her 'dinner' as he dared.