Dubhán goes to bed just as he has the other few nights, but he doesn't transform. Instead he waits for the house to go quiet, and he sneaks out of his room, Zee at his side, wand in hand.

"Take me to the Library," he says softly to the dog, which begins walking purposefully ahead of him. Dubhán follows. Once more he is impressed with the wolf-dogs intelligence when he opens the door and is greeted with rows upon rows of books.

He uses a version of the 'point-me' spell to find the section containing Occlumency books. There aren't many books, three to be exact, but Dubhán pulls them all down and takes them quietly back to his room. Zee follows him, his head swiveling this way and that, watching.

When they are back in the bedroom, Dubhán pats the dog's head and tells him he's a good boy. Zee just stays sitting and Dubhán finally has to tell him he has no bones; the dog slinks away to sleep on the bed.

He lays the books out on his desk, handling them gently. His whole body is shaking in anticipation. He has to understand, here and now, if this is actually a viable option.

There are three books, varying in thickness and newness. Dubhán picks up the newest looking one, which also happens to be the thinnest. 'The Beginner's Guide to Shielding the Mind'.

'There are wizards and witches, utilizing the art of Legilimency, who can view your thoughts as simply as if you had put them into a Penseive and given them permission to look. The sister art to Legilimency is Occlumency and it is the act of shielding against such an intrusion.'

Dubhán reads long into the night until his eyes are cold. He manages, with his last ounce of wakefulness, to tuck the books into a desk drawer, flop onto the bed, and sleep. Tonight, no nightmares plague him.

"Dubhán, it's time for breakfast." He turns over in his sleep, his eyes scrunching shut. It was her voice. He must be dreaming. "Dubhán, sweetheart, please wake up. I know you don't want me to come in there, but I've got to get to work and Harry is busy." What was he dreaming about this time? Why was his dream-Mum talking about leaving for work? That's never what she said. She was supposed to walk over to his bed and give him a kiss and try and tickle him. He scrunches up his face some more. But what had she called him? Dubhán? She never called him that name… He shoots bolt upright in bed and clambers out of it, stumbling over to the door.

She's standing there, smiling. He's still wearing his pajamas.

"Hey, sweetheart. You've got to get dressed and eat. Emma's visiting Sirius today and I'm off to work and you're going with Harry today."

"Where am I going?" He asks softly. She winks secretly.

"I can't tell you that," she says, a smile spreading across her face. He looks suspiciously up at her and almost begs not to go back to the Healer, since that's the only thing he can think they'd need to hide from him, in order for him not to fight back.

Such begging, however, would be beyond weak and so he nods and turns around to get dressed. He doesn't close the door on her – he doesn't intend to get completely naked, and beside, he suspects she wouldn't like one of her own doors being shut in her face. He hadn't been allowed to shut the door on Voldemort, after all.

He pulls off his shirt and while his head is trapped beneath it still, hears her gasp. He pulls it quickly over his head and turns around to see what is the matter. She has a hand on her lips.

"That was more than your bite mark!" She says furiously, and her feet carry her quickly to his side. For a moment she seems to forget his aversion to being touched and lays a hand on his shoulder to turn him around again.

His back is littered with scars. Some, she admits, are clearly bite marks, just like she'd expect from Geoffrey's description of his group transformations. But among the random drag marks are ones that are clearly from torture curses, looking like the swoosh of a wands motion brought through the air. She feels sick and begins sobbing. Somehow, she had hoped that Voldemort would spare him of such brutality.

He turns around slowly and looks up at her. He's trying to speak to her, but she's in too much shock. He leads her to his bed. He's looking at her, wondering what is wrong. She wants to reach out to him and draw him into a hug, but knows it would only make him feel worse. She clutches to herself instead and turns her head down, hiding it in her hands. She doesn't notice when he races out of the room and down to the kitchen to get Harry.

"Alex, hun?" Harry says softly. He makes her stand and she sobs onto his shoulder, clinging to him. Behind her she sees that Dubhán has put a shirt on, although his bottoms are still pajamas. "What's wrong, baby?" He asks, concern drenching his words.

"He – Harry. He – scars - back!" She can't seem to open up her mouth or her lungs long enough to say the proper words and Harry only frowns at her even more. Dubhán, however, finally realizing it had been him to cause this, is backing up into the corner. He seems dazed. Emma is at the door.

"Emma sweetheart, go get Daddy a calming draught. One of the yucky ones." She scampers off to do as she's told and returns a moment later with the vial. Harry hands it to Alex. "Drink this, then maybe we can understand what went wrong."

She does, wincing at the familiar taste. She glances at Emma significantly and Harry walks her out of the room and into her own room. A moment later, he returns and she's calm enough to speak clearly. She looks over at Dubhán, who has pushed himself into a corner and is staring at her fearfully. For a moment she thinks of holding onto the information for him. Of dismissively telling Harry it had been nothing, or she'd simply seen him asleep and gotten all choked up, but she knows that isn't healthy for any of them. They're all in this together. They'll all hurting and healing and raging along side each other.

"Harry…he beat him. His back, it's littered with curse marks… " Harry's eyes blaze alive with rage, which he quickly covers before he turns around to Dubhán. He doesn't say anything at all - he simply gets up and walks out of the room. Dubhán begins quaking. She gives him a teary smile. He sinks to his knees and closes his eyes. She wonders if Harry is the hallway cursing silently under a charm, but then he walks back and she realizes he'd gone to get a child's dose of calming draught. He hands it wordlessly to Dubhán, who knocks it back quickly.

No one speaks for a long time. Alex feels a pang of guilt at what Emma must be feeling alone in her room and looks longingly towards the door.

"I called Sirius early," Harry says simply and Alex sighs in relief. So the little girl isn't alone in her room, she's with Sirius, who right now is probably doing some stupid magical trick or stacking fifty scoops of ice cream into a cone in an attempt to distract her. She nods. The clock downstairs signals it is now eight in the morning. Alex should already be at work. Hearing the sound, Harry shakes his head. "I wrote a note and sent it through the floo. You have an hour." She sits down again, nodding. Harry may forget things normally, but he always rises to the occasion when it matters most.

Now Harry turns towards Dubhán, still huddled in the corner, although looking a great deal calmer. "Dubhán…"

"He couldn't very well use the Cruciatus Curse, could he?" Dubhán whispers, his voice hoarse.

"Was there a reason?" Harry grounds out, forcing his voice to sound calm and level. The sort of voice you use with someone you know is about to break.

"I tried to escape…" he says weakly. "Another time…I tried…I tried to end it." He looks up at Harry. "I lied…I was never a coward…I just got caught and then…then I was a coward because…I was always afraid of being caught."

Okay, here is chapter 17. I'm not sure I'm in love with this chapter, but I'm trying to work past a bit of writer's block that's sprung up at the idea of having to write Occlumency lessons. Did I do an okay job? I wanted to get something out on Christmas. :) I wish I had more inspiration for the Occlumency books. I think I will probably have some more in a week and will come back and update more of what he read, but right now it will only frustrate me.

Next chapter: Hogwarts!

On another note. I know lots of people must like this story (I am being added to favorites and alerts), but why don't you guys review? I know writing isn't measured by reviews, but a little ego boost would be swell as I begin to feel some writer's block around me… you know? More than 30 of your read the last chapter, one person reviewed.

Please review? PLEASE!