(A/N: My apologies on the number of chapters before Harry actually starts attending Hogwarts. This chapter covers the longest stretch in time, and I promise it won't be long before he starts mixing magic and martial arts.)
(Again, I am an ignorant foreigner, so Britpicking is very welcome.)
(One last note: Practically everything I wrote about Occlumency in this chapter is completely made up. Let me know if there are any conflicts with canon.)
HARRY POTTER and the ART of WING CHUN
3
the occlumens
For the next few months, Harry felt like he was living in a dream.
Wu Sifu bought him new glasses and clothes that were actually his size—clothes that he actually liked. (Harry found that he had a strange fondness for cable-knitted jumpers, even though it was still summer.) He was able to take lessons without the Granger's help—they only had to pay for two weeks. The chores that he was assigned he did gladly, as Wu Sifu usually did them with him them. And the best thing was that there was no Dudley.
Only a few days in living at the kwoon and it felt like home.
Wu Sifu seemed to be a touch embarrassed, as he didn't have an apartment or a house, but slept in a spacey backroom that connected to his office. Harry didn't mind at all. Compared to the cupboard beneath the stairs, sleeping in the backroom was like staying at a five-star hotel. Besides, the decor was very relaxing: It was almost like taking residence in the middle of a little zen garden.
When Harry's eighth birthday came about, Hermione gave him a very heavy book on the history, structure, and technical aspects of Wing Chun. Harry was touched that she had gotten him a gift at all, but the book's fount size was smaller than his thumbnail and he doubted that he would ever read it.
Wu Sifu took Harry out to dinner at a fast food restaurant and ice cream. (He proposed something more elaborate, but Harry didn't fancy spending a lot of money, and he'd always wanted to try having a whole burger to himself.) Later that night, Harry also received his very own Nintendo Entertainment System along with two games from Wu Sifu.
It was the best birthday he'd ever had.
As the school season began to roll about again, Harry began to realize that Wu Sifu was spending a great portion of his (again, scarce) free time in his office. He always seemed to be talking to someone, and at times, yelling at them, but that couldn't be; no one had come in the dojo. Whenever Harry tried sneaking into the study, the room was always empty and Wu Sifu was always sitting at his desk, reading some newspaper or another.
The week before school began, Wu Sifu took Harry to an innumerable quantity of stores for supply shopping. New backpack, new pencils, new lunchbox, new everything. Harry was beginning to feel guilty for making Wu Sifu spend so much money on him, but Wu Sifu waved away his every protest.
"Remember, Harry, I am your guardian now. You are my responsibility. Besides, I don't mind spoiling you. It's rather fun."
At Harry's resulting frown:
"Well, if it really makes you feel poorly, you can always pay me back later." Then Wu Sifu would give him a stern glance. "But you should in no way feel obligated to do so. Understood?"
Wu Sifu also transferred Harry to a different school, wanting him to be as far away from Dudley Dursley as possible. Harry almost protested at this; although he was by no means an expert, he knew he could easily defend himself from Dudley's clumsy grapples and wide, swinging blows. Wu Sifu only snorted.
"You think I'm worried about you, Harry? No. I'm worried for the Dursleys' boy. I'd rather you not have to suffer the temptation of socking him in the face. Merlin knows he needs it, but it might get you into trouble, and that wouldn't do."
Harry felt honored by this response, but he also noticed how Wu Sifu curiously used 'Merlin.' Merlin? Nobody really talked about him regularly—especially not Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who hated all things related to magic. Harry probably wouldn't have even heard of the name had his classmates not played so many video games and watched so much telly.
Three months passed in bliss. The new school was nice enough. No one cornered him in the bathrooms or shouted at him for violating the dress code (since Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia never thought it necessary to buy him the proper uniform). As it turned out, Hermione attended the same school. Harry found that she was quite unpopular, but he didn't care. He didn't want to be friends with people based on popularity anyway.
::-::
When the Christmas hols came, Wu Sifu brought Harry into his study, looking very serious.
"Harry," he began, "you are aware that kung fu is not limited to the body, yes?"
"Yes, Uncle Wu," Harry said (as his guardian was uncomfortable with his formal title). "The mind must also be trained for focus."
"Not just for focus, Harry," Wu Sifu said. "The mind is your most important tool. With your mind, you analyze your opponent's weaknesses. With your mind, you learn new tactics. And with your mind"—he whipped out a fist that stopped an inch away from Harry's nose—"you decide who is friend and who is foe."
Harry nearly went cross-eyed staring at the fist before him. What was Wu Sifu trying to get at? Was Harry supposed to block the fist?
Before he could react, Wu Sifu had withdrawn his punch. "My point is that kung fu must not only defend your body, Harry, but also your mind. As you get older, you may encounter people who wish to attack your mind."
"Attack... my mind, Uncle Wu?" Harry asked curiously.
"Influence it. Change it. Destroy it."
Harry felt his flesh crawl at the description. "B-but... Uncle Wu, that sounds like magic," he said, and then slapped his hands over his mouth, remembering how that word was forbidden in his previous household.
But Wu Sifu only smiled peculiarly. "Who said magic didn't exist, Harry?" he said softly.
A load of images swamped over Harry's eyes—screaming, green light, pain—and something in him, something buried very deeply, began to come to light.
Harry squared his shoulders and looked his guardian right in the eye. "How do we start, Uncle Wu?"
Wu Sifu crossed his legs, assuming his regular meditative pose. "I welcome you, Harry Potter, to the secret art of Occlumency."
::-::
Harry's eighth Christmas was, in his opinion, the only true Christmas he'd ever had. Wu Sifu had a large plastic tree stored in an abandoned corner of his office, which they set up and decorated with nice-looking anythings that were lying around. (Harry wanted to invite Hermione, but she was out of town to have Christmas with relatives.)
Harry managed to use some of the money from his sock to buy Wu Sifu a tiny figurine of a Chinese lucky cat. It was sloppily wrapped, but Wu Sifu didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In return, Wu Sifu established a regular allowance for Harry, recurring monthly, and taught Harry the basics of budgeting. Harry also received another book from Hermione Granger, who had changed her tune to fiction books: Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game. It was a thrilling piece of work, one that quickly became much more well-read than Hermione's previous gift. (He wasn't exactly sure what Hermione liked, but sent her some sort of thick and heavy book he found at the library that looked like it would interest her. She replied immediately, gushing praises on his choice.)
Harry could not have related to the phrase 'Happy Christmas' more than he did then.
As the holidays drew to a close, Wu Sifu concentrated more and more on Occlumency. Harry found his first lessons to be more baffling than anything else, as he couldn't really see how people could 'attack his mind.' The very idea seemed nothing but surreal to him—but if Wu Sifu took it so seriously, Harry was determined to learn it.
"There are different techniques of learning Occlumency," Wu Sifu said during their second session. "My favorite combines the usual European technique with a few influences from the Far East."
"How does that work, Uncle Wu?" Harry asked.
"Because the mind is complex and multilayered, Harry, only those who are skilled can successfully read and influence thoughts and memories," Wu Sifu said. "The technique I am going to teach you uses seals—defenses placed strategically in difference locations in the mind." He gave a small smile. "The standard European technique involves one continuous shield that circumvents your entire mind. However, I consider this inefficient, as it is only one level of defense—and a weak one at that, since it has to protect your entire mind."
"So what do seals do?"
"I use two types of seals: strong blockades, and reflectors. A blockade is your standard shield. Over a low number of your mental layers, it is incredibly strong, but gets weaker the more layers you add to it."
"A defense that gets weaker the more it protects."
"Exactly."
"So what's a reflector?" Harry crossed his legs and leaned forward on his palms.
"A reflector is weak in the sense that it is easily broken. However, it's very effective against the average Legilimens, because when they—"
"Legilimens?"
Wu Sifu's brow furrowed. "Someone that can attack your mind. Sorry." He cleared his throat. "When a Legilimens attacks your mind, they send some of their presence into you. Think of it like a probe. Blockades can stop that probe, but reflectors are able to bounce them back into the Legilimens' mind."
Harry grinned. "Really?"
"Well... unfortunately, reflectors don't work on stronger Legilimens. They are trained enough to break through them. But they are very effective against the average Legilimens." Wu Sifu smiled. "I would advise using reflectors to protect the majority of your memories, while using blockades for particularly sensitive information—and also guarding your emotions."
"This sounds brilliant," Harry said eagerly. "How do I start?"
Wu Sifu crossed his legs. "Exercises. Meditation is key to building effective defenses. However," he said warningly, "it takes a great amount of time and effort to build your defenses. Reflectors can take up to five months to secure due to their complexity."
"That's okay," Harry said. "I've got time. There aren't any Legilimens after me right now, are there?"
Wu Sifu's gaze darkened, but then his usual calm mask fell over his face. "If there are, they shall have to get through me, first," he said amicably. "Now close your eyes, Harry. One deep breath. Then out. Good. Now imagine..."
::-::
The school year passed with little trouble. Harry was able to pull out top marks, somehow—fourth in his class. (Hermione Granger was, of course, first.) He grew stronger, faster, tougher... and his Occlumency was improving.
The first weeks were very difficult. Occlumency was a subtle art, and Harry had a hard time even consciously accessing his mind to "see the maze," as Wu Sifu put it. It was two weeks before he could even feel some slight presence when Wu Sifu sent a test probe. (To his credit, he only viewed memories that they shared—Christmas, and Harry's eighth birthday.)
As summer approached, however, Harry felt his mind getting stronger. When he closed his eyes, he could visualize the pathways of his mind—and he could even start constructing blockades, which were the simpler of the two seals. He chose to first protect the memory of green light, the possible memory of his parents' death: For some reason, that seemed like very important information, even though it was only half-complete.
For the first time in his life, Harry began to forget about the Dursleys.
He forgot about Petunia's screeching, about Vernon's roaring, about Dudley's bullying... In fact, some days he even forgot that they existed at all. The only time he remembered was when Wu Sifu brought him along on a grocery trip and they ran into the Dursleys at the same store. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon tried to ignore them, while Dudley tried to give Harry some verbal abuse—verbal abuse that was no longer effective, now that he was with Wu Sifu. Harry almost wished that Dudley had tried to pull a punch. He was aching for revenge after practicing Wing Chun for nearly a year.
As the summer rolled by, Harry found himself immersed in three things: practicing martial arts, practicing Occlumency, and spending time with Hermione Granger, his only true friend. Hermione, however, was not the brightest child in Little Whinging for nothing, and was called away to some sort of fancy academic summer camp on full scholarship for all of August.
For Harry's ninth birthday, Wu Sifu prepared a delicious dinner of herb-roasted chicken with rice. He also bought a creamy, refreshing beverage that reminded Harry of butterscotch. (But he never told Harry what exactly it was.)
This time, Hermione did not purchase a book, but a portable and durable drawstring sack for him to keep his money in. She also sent a few pounds to "contribute to your collection." Knowing that she had been coveting the just-released volume of Leonardo Da Vinci: The Compleat Works of the Exemplary Rennaissance Man, Harry decided to bust his budget a little and send that to her on her own birthday—September 19. Her reaction to his gift made the purchase more than worth it. (Even if he had gotten rather strange looks at the bookstore.)
The new school year heralded nothing more for Harry but an increase of training. Wu Sifu seemed to note his growing enthusiasm for Occlumency and Wing Chun, and consequently pushed him to the limit. Harry was moved to the advanced class at the kwoon, where he found himself at a severe disadvantage due to his youth and lack of height. During this time, he realized that he couldn't rely on straight blocks, but was much faster and more agile than any of the other students in his class. At his request, Wu Sifu began sprinkling in some aikido into their training; Harry found that redirection was his best bet on blocking, especially when it came to kicks.
Their Occlumency sessions also grew in intensity. Harry could now feel Wu Sifu's presence in his mind as solidly as if it were tangible. He also found that his blockades were able to keep Wu Sifu away—to an extent. Obviously, Wu Sifu wasn't trying to break them, but Harry still felt a small sense of accomplishment. Harry also started to construct his first reflectors.
This Christmas was just as wonderful this year as it had been the last. They had the Grangers over for a delicious Christmas potluck; Harry ate until he felt like he could burst. Wu Sifu got Harry a book on the different techniques of Occlumency, which Harry found incredibly fascinating. (He planned on implementing some of these techniques secretly and surprise Wu Sifu during one of their sessions.) Hermione went back to buying him books—this one was an entire textbook on French, just because he had demonstrated some slight interest in the courses they offered at school. She refused to receive a gift in return, saying that the Da Vinci tome was a present good enough for two holidays. So did Wu Sifu, who said that children didn't usually buy presents for their guardian. (Harry didn't listen and got him some pretty rocks for their zen-room.)
Harry finished this school year with top marks as well. He found that the Occlumency exercises helped him to retain information better—especially when he began implementing memory seals, which were a specialized kind of seal described in the book Wu Sifu got him.
According to his book, the mind stored memories with one hundred percent accuracy. Anything consciously seen and heard was saved perfectly in the brain. However, the average human was unable to access and visualize these memories accurately, as they didn't have a handle on the presence of their own mind. Occlumens and Legilimens had a far easier time accessing these memories, since they were accustomed to seeing the layers of minds, foreign or familiar. In addition, special seals could be placed around these memories to not only protect them, but to prevent any changes accidentally made by their owner.
Harry found these particularly useful when learning new material in school.
It wasn't cheating, he told himself. Just a method of memorization. But he made sure not to mention his methods to Hermione Granger. She probably wouldn't hold the same opinion as him.
As Harry's tenth birthday approached, he began to hope that perhaps he wouldn't have to do anything with the Dursleys ever again. He hadn't seen them in a whole year—only heard about them, vaguely, from the local newspaper when it had an article on Grunnings once. Dudley didn't have the courage to approach the kwoon, and neither did any of his gang. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't even try to check on him, which he found relieving more than anything else.
Maybe the Dursleys were out of his life for good.
But Harry began to notice something peculiar: Wu Sifu was, once again, spending an extraordinary amount of time in his office. This time, he was yelling for sure—and he didn't even seem keen on hiding it. Harry caught his name a few times, but whenever he crept toward the door, the shouting would suddenly stop—and not naturally at the end of a sentence, but in the middle of a word, like all sound had been blocked from the room. But this would only confuse Harry: No one was in the kwoon, and Wu Sifu's office was far from soundproof.
Harry should have known that these signs pointed to change.
Change that, this time, he didn't want.
::-::
It was the 23rd of June. Two years ago, Harry would have remembered (quite keenly) that it was Dudley's birthday. Now, the arrival of his aunt and uncle on the kwoon's doorstep was the only thing that reminded him.
Wu Sifu did not look happy to see them, but neither did he look surprised. He gave a long, long sigh, as if he'd been expecting their arrival, though he'd tried so very hard to fight against their coming, he no longer had the ability or the strength to continue that fight.
He invited them in and brewed some tea. Harry briefly wondered if he could poison it without them noticing, but then thought that would be an awful waste of tea. In the end, it didn't matter. Petunia and Vernon Dursley sat stiffly on the couch and didn't even touch their cups.
"What is your order of business?" Wu Sifu asked. He said this placidly, but there was a dark shadow under his eyes that seemed to frighten the Dursleys.
Petunia lifted her chin, but her hands were shaking. "We are here to take Harry home," she said, her voice rising an octave on Harry's name.
"Absolutely not," Wu Sifu said, and stood up. "Please leave the kwoon at once."
That response made Harry's heart jerk a little. He had never been more certain that he had finally found his place in life—a place where he was wanted, where, sometimes, he was needed, a place where he loved to be and would love to be his entire life.
At the kwoon.
Vernon Dursley's face turned purple-red. "You can't argue with us," he said, spittle flying from his lips. "We're his guardians."
"So am I. And I am arguing with you right now."
"Besides, I'm already at home," Harry piped up. Two years with Wu Sifu had given him confidence, wisdom, and a rather extensive knowledge of how to defend himself. He disliked the Dursleys, but he wasn't afraid of them.
Petunia shot Harry a withering glare that he met with equal ferocity.
"We can get our lawyers involved," Vernon continued, the muscles in his neck bulging. "You already know that the law is on our side, Long!"
"That doesn't mean you're in the right," Wu Sifu said. He opened the door of his office. "Go ahead. Get your lawyers. But I warn you now, Petunia and Vernon. Even if I am to lose..." His eyebrows furrowed into a terrifying glare. "I will not go down without a fight."
(This chapter has mainly been comprised of set-up. A bit dull to read, I realize, but it has to be done. Besides, we've got some fun parts coming up.)
(My sincere thanks to each and every one of you who have alerted, favorited, and reviewed.)
C: The Grangers don't live in Little Whinging.
A: Canonically speaking, no, they don't, at least not to my knowledge. This, however, is an alternate universe, and it seemed beneficial to the movement of the storyline for them to live in Little Whinging this story.
Q: Why is Hermione so disrespectful? Why aren't her parents doing anything about it?
Hermione's bossiness and bluntness is one of her biggest character flaws in canon. I have exaggerated this trait a bit in this story in hopes that it will provide for opportune character development as the story continues. As for her parents, well, I'm not trying to make them perfect. Parents make mistakes, parents can be too indulging or too strict, and parents are by no means perfect. There is also a wide range of parenting techniques. Perhaps a tight leash didn't work for Hermione. Perhaps her parents simply are learning as they go; Hermione is, I believe, their only child.
(Again, if you have any questions, critiques, or other comments, please shoot me a review. If you feel uncomfortable with having your question posted in this section, just let me know and I will answer you privately.)