Painful Days
A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.
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November 1, 1995 Hogwarts
Harry had never seen the school so silent as it was in the hours between the end of the battle and when the bulk of the students left for home. Outside of the sounds of feet slapping stone and the odd, muffled whimper or cry, Hogwarts was eerily silent. a traumatized Filch was the only one who seemed to have any energy, working with an almost blindly focused determination to clean up the mess, like he thought he had to do it all himself, despite there being more than any one man could handle. The house elves, grieving and despondent, were everywhere, working to fix what damage they could.
In the end, none of the Slytherins had sought sanctuary, and Harry honestly couldn't decide whether he was grateful or worried. At any rate, it was something to obsess over rather than the fact that so many had died. Harry found it odd that he felt relieved that the last words between himself and Dumbledore hadn't been angry ones. Things between them had been far, far from settled, but at least they'd not been openly at war with each other right then.
Just a few minutes after noon, Hogwarts was hauntingly empty. Only the injured in the infirmary, the relatively uninjured teachers and Order members and the New Marauders remained. The eerie silence lasted for all of an hour before what felt like the entirety of the Auror's corps showed up, led by none other than Amelia Bones herself.
The rest of the day was spent with the aurors crawling over every inch of the castle and grounds, seeking every weak spot in the wards and every possible entry point. Remus, Sirius and the twins were in the thick of it, as they were the most familiar with the castle and grounds of those that were mobile, not to mention they had and knew how to operate the map. The Board showed up about dinnertime, and confirmed McGonagall as Headmistress. McGonagall, determined (much to Pomphrey's disgust and frustration) to be mobile and getting things done had commandeered a chair and enchanted it to move so she could get about, as her leg was nowhere near able to support her.
Augusta and Septimus arrived the next morning, looking grim and angry. The Wizengamot was, apparently, up in arms about the attack (rather understandably, Harry thought). That some dozen members (most of them lesser ones, but Malfoy was particularly notable for his absence, the slimy snake) had failed to show up just made it worse. It would seem that open war had once again been declared, though it would seem that Voldemort was busy celebrating his triumph for the moment. Either that or content to let be for a few days for whatever capricious reason.
November 4, 1995 Hogwarts
By the morning of Dumbledore's funeral, all the access points to Hogwarts had been plugged and warded to a fare thee well. People started arriving at dawn, in a steady stream. By one in the afternoon, the time for the service, Harry was willing to entertain the notion that the entire law-abiding British magical community was on Hogwarts' grounds. The funeral itself was ... beyond irritating for Harry, because while a great many people's grief seemed quite genuine, for some folks it seemed to have become a 'who knew the most about Dumbledore' competition, which was rather grating. Especially when Harry's feelings about the man were so unsettled. He spent as much time as he could get away with with Remus, who was not obligated to make rounds of the various high society folk who'd come to the funeral like poor Sirius was. Harry did not envy Sirius at all. He also did not envy a few of the more objectionable attendees, as he was fairly sure he caught Sirius hexing at least one of them on the sly.
The worst part about the whole thing was Voldemort's gloating. He was gleefully triumphant and reveling in the demise of the only wizard other than Harry to ever stand against him and live to tell the tale. The triumphant Death Eaters seemed to be having something of a party, if the glimpses Harry caught were anything to go by. The only good news was that Voldemort didn't even seem to have noticed, yet, that Severus wasn't present for the fun. Or, at least, there was no clear 'where the hell is Snape' thoughts coming through.
November 5-11, 1995 Hogwarts
The next week was ... odd, to say the least. The Order, the professor and the elves spent a lot of time repairing the battle damage done to the interior of the school. The New Marauders concentrated on their wandwork in the Room of Requirement, taking their mixed emotions out on hapless dummies. Well, most of them did. By the third day, Harry was pretty much a wreck, thanks to the visions and thoughts from good old Voldie. Finally, thoroughly desperate, he sought out Snape in his dungeon lair. Snape did not look best pleased to have Harry in his office, but he didn't snap and snarl, which was a relief.
"Sir, I need to talk to you." Harry said. He only hoped Snape could (and would) help. "About occlumency. Moody's been teaching me, but ... " He sighed. "I don't know what's going on, if I'm not doing something right or just not good enough at it yet or what, but it's really, really not working. Not even close to it."
Snape eyed him for a long moment, then finally motioned Harry to the chair in front of his desk. "You are hoping I have an answer where Alastor will not."
Harry didn't even bother to deny it as he sat down. "You were first choice to teach me." Harry couldn't quite bring himself to say Dumbledore's name. He was still trying to sort out how he felt about the man, and his loss was more than slightly raw yet. "But the way we tend to get on, I figured someone else would be a better choice."
"Quite." Snape agreed. He might be willing to tolerate the boy, but teaching occlumency required something more than grudging tolerance. "Prepare yourself."
There was little need for Harry to do so, as he'd kept the barriers he'd built up pretty much from the word go in an effort (futile as it had so far been) to block out Voldemort.
Snape brandished his wand. "Legilimens!"
He fully expected to tear through the brat's defenses like they were tissue paper, but he was in for a surprise. He fetched up against what were, given the short amount of time Harry had been practicing and the multitude of other things the boy'd been spending time on, quite respectable barriers. Oh, they wouldn't stand up to a concerted attack for more than a minute or two, but they were more than enough to stop a casual perusal or hurried probe, and Severus could perceive no weak spots or gaps in the shields. He broke off.
"Adequate, Mr. Potter, considering you've had a bare six months to construct them." Severus contemplated Harry's complaint. "You say your shields are not working against the Dark Lord?"
"Not at all." Harry said with a sigh.
"Are the visions you perceive accompanied by headaches?" Snape forbore to ask about nausea, as considering it was the Dark Lord's mind involved, the boy would likely be nauseated by what he was seeing, and unable to tell if the nausea was from the mental attack or the events witnessed.
"No sir. At least, not since the first week or so of summer." Harry said. "And it's weird, because ever since I started the occlumency, what I've seen and heard seems ... sharper, clearer. More detailed. Like the occlumency is making the visions easier to watch instead of blocking them. And I know for a fact he doesn't realize I'm listening in ... the 'information leak' has been driving him insane, but he's never once twigged that the leak is him."
Snape frowned. "Whatever is occuring, Potter, it is not a form of long-distance mental attack. Once you possessed even the most rudimentary of shields, any successful bypass of them would register as a headache ... the stronger your shields, the greater the headache."
That made Harry frown. "Damn. So what the heck's going on?"
"That, I do not know." Severus admitted. "However, there may be a solution to the problem. Occlumency is a mental defense. Alastor has taught you the basic shields meant to repel external assault. It is possible for some Seers to use Occlumency to block off visions, and the same process might give you control of when you peruse the information on offer. Failing that, there are potions that suppress prophetic visions to allow particularly gifted Seers some peace. One of them might suit."
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "I'm willing to try pretty much anything at this point. It's not always as bad as it's been the last few days, but it's been like this in the past and if I can avoid the whole 'wasted wreck for lack of sleep' thing, I'll be thrilled. I can't afford to be that worn down when there's so much trouble brewing."
Snape gave a sharp nod. "I shall brew the potions. Fortunately, none of them require a great deal of time to prepare, so they will be ready late tomorrow. With luck, one of them will work and give you the time you will need to erect the modified barriers." He gave Harry a long look. "You do realize that I will be required to instruct you?"
Harry sighed. "Yeah, I kind of figured that out." He was just going to have to hope they could keep from trying to kill one another. "I can manage if you can."
Snape glowered, but nodded. "Very well. Come back tomorrow evening, and I will administer the first potion."
"Right, see you then."
Harry was quite pleased to discover the first potion made the visions fuzzy, like they'd been before he'd started learning occlumency. It didn't stop them, but it gave him hope that a stronger potion might. Snape clearly agreed, because next morning he dosed Harry with the strongest vision-blocker.
And for the first time since Voldemort rose, Harry had a day alone in his own head. No visions, thoughts or feelings from snake-face. He spent most of the time sleeping.
HPHPHP
The Ministry
Amelia, Augusta, Septimus and Sirius were far from idle in the Wizengamot. They were rattling every cage in reach and then some. The Aurors were authorized to use 'any means necessary' to stop the Death Eaters. Their budget was quadrupled, wages increased and incentives offered for new hires, and armor (considered a waste of galleons by Fudge and Crouch) purchased for every one of them. Workshops were offered, so that the average citizen could brush up on (or learn) shielding, offensive spells and wards. Lethal force was permitted in the defense of home and family, and every Warder in the Ministry's employ was sent to set wards on Muggleborn houses, all of which had been, up to this point, left undefended.
The handful of conservatives who had not run to Voldemort in the wake of the attack on Hogwarts screamed bloody murder, but they were too few to stop the raft of decrees and laws Amelia and Augusta and company were ramming through. Though, they stopped screaming after a few days, because it became painfully clear that Voldemort was on the march.
Voldemort and the Death Eaters might have spent a few days partying and celebrating their victory, but all too soon they'd got down to business again. There were a dozen attacks spread over three days, leaving some forty dead, most of them innocent muggle bystanders.
Three muggleborn families lost their homes, and at least one family member each, though thanks to the Hogwarts house-elves, they'd not been completely helpless, even with most of the Order out of commission. The elves had evidently taken the attack on the school and the death of the Headmaster, two teachers and four students as a mortal insult, and were quite willing to knock the Death Eaters into the next millennium even without being asked to.
November 12, 1995 Hogwarts.
Of course, the potion was really only a temporary fix ... while he was taking it, he would not see what Voldemort was up to, period. If he could manage to build the modified Occlumency barriers, he'd be able to peek in at need, and given that Harry had gotten a great deal of vital information from Voldemort, he was understandably unwilling to shut the visions down entirely. That he'd be spending more time with Snape was the only fly in the ointment.
It was not the most pleasant of days. Snape somehow managed to keep his snapping and snarling to a minimum, and Harry did his best to do as Snape asked as they started on the modified barriers, but it was a very tense and uncomfortable lesson. Harry could only imagine how much worse it would have been trying to learn the fundamentals from the man. Talk about a disaster in the making. Fortunately, it would be much, much faster going than the several months it had taken to create his occlumency barriers. Harry was quite pleased to see measurable progress at the end of the session. With any luck, he'd have rudimentary shields up inside of a week, and from there it would only be a matter of strengthening them and tailoring them to his purposes.
The bright spot in a long day spent in Snape's company was Hagrid's return. He was weak and shaky and still recovering, but he was back. He moved, temporarily, into a long-abandoned classroom that had been refitted as a room for him, since he was in no shape to traipse from his hut to the school and back all the time, and no one was comfortable with the idea of him just staying in his hut while he was still recovering. He'd be moving back to his hut before school restarted, of course, but in the meantime, Harry rather enjoyed having Hagrid living in the castle.