Chapter 15

"Clear your mind Harry, that's the only way for us to start." Kingsley said with the remaining of his patience.

"I swear Kingsley, if you say that another time, I will start shooting spells." Harry warned him, his own patience even shorter than the older man's.

They were sitting in the living room of Moody's house. Just like Harry expected, there weren't any wizards in the proximity of the house. The protective wards and spells have been forcefully torn away, leaving a silent and moody husk behind. They had no way of knowing if anyone came to check it, therefore it was decided that their stay would be as short as possible.

The Lupin couple has went away in hopes of finding a more permanent lodging for the four of them. Harry and Kingsley decided to take the opportunity to start the teen's occlumency lessons. The young wizard he needed to control the mental link between himself and Voldemort.

Despite the fact that they were sitting in a rather warm room and it was Kingsley instructing him, Harry still felt as if he was back in the office of the greasy git. It didn't help that the auror opened their session with asking Harry to clear his mind, assuming that the professor was able to at least teach him that.

Of course, all Harry could remember from Snape's lessons was shouting and the mental pain that he suffered through later at night. He came to dub them as the 'brain-gutter' sessions, since he felt as if his head had been rearranged on the inside after spending time with Snape.

Kingsley led him through some basic breathing exercises that slowly but surely calmed Harry's nerves. The idea of someone poking in his head has never been attractive even before he started, but knowing that it could be Voldemort forced the teenager to push his apprehension back.

Under the careful guidance of the auror, the young wizard carefully reached inside of him to find his mind. The whole experience seemed alien to him, as if humans were not supposed to be able to do that.

"The first time is going to feel very wrong, but it gets better the more you dedicate yourself into it, like flying." Kingsley tried to assure him with what he hoped a relevant analysis.

But he felt natural on a broom from the very start. Harry wanted to argue but he knew that it wasn't going to help him in any way. It was better to just relax and let it happen, that's how most of the magic worked. With that thought in mind, Harry's posture slackened considerably as he sank into his chair without a sound. It washed over him, with an intensity that he was unaware of at first.

Opening his eyes, he realised that they were tightly shut. It was the oddest feeling; Harry could feel his eye-lids covering his eyes, but at the same time he could see clearly. He was so caught onto the weird feeling that his new surroundings didn't register until a few minutes later.

He was standing in his old cupboard.

Normally, Harry would've panicked, but he supposedly died a few hours ago. Reappearing in his old 'room' wasn't much of a stretch on the impossibility spectrum anymore.

His wand was gone as well. That fact worried the teenager more, but he knew that it had to be tied to his relocation.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opened the door of the cupboard and stepped outside. Instead of the dreadful house of his relatives, he was hit by a much stranger sight, or rather lack of it.

The ground was black, the sky was black; everything around him was just darkness. Harry turned around to see that his cupboard was quite literally torn from the interior of its house, standing, or floating in the absolute blackness. Shaking his head, Harry caught sight of something on the other side of the cupboard. Peeking around it, he could see a dully coloured castle around a kilometre away, standing proudly in the portrait of darkness around it.

It was illuminated by an alien green glow, to which source Harry found by turning towards it. On one of the walls of his cupboard, there was a blob of... something. An abomination was the first word that came into Harry's mind; it felt wrong, it didn't belong. The odd blob was stuck on the wall, being held by forces that were incomprehensible for Harry. Its texture was like melted wax, not being able to take a permanent form.

That was when he found himself on the floor of the living room, a very strong urge to vomit gripping him from the inside. Kingsley's hand was on his shoulder in support, but he didn't help the teen to get up, not that Harry really wanted to. His vision swam in a nauseating movement from the sudden transition. He had to stay on his knees for a while, his eyes tightly shut against the turbulences in his stomach, but it finally settled down.

"What in the world was that?" Harry gasped out, turning towards the completely calm auror.

"You voluntarily accessed your inner-mind for the first time, it's never too comfortable, but it does get better. You must've seen your memory bank, in whatever form it has taken." Kingsley explained slowly, letting the new information sink in. At Harry's confused expression, he continued. "That's where all of your memories are stored, just because normally you can't remember everything doesn't mean that your mind doesn't. The next step is to build defences around it. If your assaulter is able to reach the bank, they can use anything that you have inside of it against you."

"Is that why there was a castle there as well?" The young wizard asked, remembering the odd sight.

Kingsley responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, these were the outer defences of my own mind, though there is much more waiting on the inside."

"It seemed so far away from my own mind."

"Distance is very different on the mental plane. The ratio grows the farther you are from your target. A skilled Legilimens is able to travel that distance in mere seconds, but you won't learn that until later on. It is centered around the strength of a person's will."

"Wouldn't a muggle be technically able to learn occlumency then?"

"Yes, but only occlumency. Legilimency requires magical energy to transport the consciousness of the caster, which is why it is such a dangerous art. A careless wizard can be trapped inside of his target's mind, unable to return to his own body, leaving an unresponsive husk behind"

"Wouldn't occlumency help against dementors then?"

"What?"

Harry didn't know where that thought came from. His emersion into the new magic caused him to blurt out before thinking. Feeling his cheeks warm up, the teenager rushed to explain.

"Well, aren't dementors supposed to suck out your soul? So wouldn't the soul be a person's consciousness, in theory? It really sounds like the two do the same, or at least leave the person in the same state... and... yeah." He finished lamely, unable to express this burst of hypothesis properly.

Instead of mocking him like Harry expected, the auror considered his words before answering.

"Occlumency has many uses, it doesn't limit itself to the defence of mind. I wouldn't be surprised if it could prevent the dementor kiss, but I do strongly recommend against experimenting with that." He said with a pointed look.

Harry nodded absently, already closing his eyes to try out the new territory again, but Kingsley interrupted before he could even start.

"Don't overwork yourself Harry. Occlumency is going to take a lot out of you at first. Get some rest while I check if I can restart the defensive wards of the house."

The teenager made a face, but nodded reluctantly, slumping into his chair as the auror left the room. He waited for a few moments before chancing a look behind him, once he was satisfied, his eyes shut tight on their own accord.

XXXXXXX

Her strides were sure and firm, thumping faintly against the metal floor. People in uniforms passed by her, but no one attempted to start a conversation seeing the purposeful look in her eyes. Everyone knew not to get into the way of Lieutenant Durand when she was on a mission, unless one desired to face painful death. Her green eyes didn't even bother to acknowledge their attention, not deeming it worthy.

She reached an impressive door, nodding towards the suited man sitting behind a desk near it. He smiled at her warmly.

"The Commander is already waiting for you, Rachel, go right ahead." He said before clicking on his desk, activating a buzzer that signalled her entry. She shot him an annoyed look, but he ignored her, knowing perfectly well that she didn't like the use of her first name.

"Thank you, George." It was a minor victory, but the Lieutenant pretended not to notice the smirk on his face as she opened the door.

"Durand."

"Sir."

She gave off a sharp salute despite the fact that he wasn't facing in her direction. The tall man was in front of a huge bookcase that decorated the whole wall of the room. His fingers fluttered absently on the many spines, but Durand knew better than to believe the façade. She was in his office when he drew a handgun from the bookcase out on a suspicious visitor, even when it turned out to be an extremely lost French diplomat.

"I hope that you are here to deliver some good news for a change. We are currently not being held in a favourable light with our inability to act." Frustration was clearly audible in his voice, and the Lieutenant could relate. Being assigned to deal with a secret world that was in current crisis wasn't an easy task, especially when facing pressure from their frantic superiors. The task force that has been composed to infiltrate into the magical world and terminate the threat has been facing disappointments on all fronts; despite being on the case for a couple of months, they've yet to find a way into one of the magical centres in England.

She didn't think that her report could completely count as good news, but Durand knew better than let unprofessional hesitation to get in the way.

"We've finally captured one of these... Death Eaters. He tried his best to escape using his teleportation abilities, but the tracker that we placed on him seemed to have worked in a way that we didn't expect." That caught his attention, the Commander turned away from his bookcase to face her.

The tracker was a standard procedure when trying to locate stubborn criminals. After being so close to capturing a wizard just to have him disappearing in thin air, someone in the team suggested trying to exhaust their target by tracking them. They expected a long chase across the whole country, but something peculiar happened when the wizard attempted to teleport. The tracker reacted violently on his body, it stopped transmitting its signal yet at the same time it changed the repeating outcome. Instead of disappearing, the Death Eater collapsed after a few moments, and later examinations showed that he was struck by an almost lethal amount of electrical discharge.

The Commander sat down by then, contemplating the new information with a frown.

"Was it an isolated incident?"

"No sir, we kept the tracker on him during the interrogation. He tried to teleport many times, each time resulting in another paralysing strike. It took longer than we expected, but he finally gave up on using his magic." Before he could open his mouth, she quickly added, "I've assigned our best scientists to see if they could replicate that reaction in some type of a weapon."

The Commander nodded in satisfaction, clearly happy with her own improvised orders.

There came a hesitation that he detected.

"And what did you find out from him?" He prompted, looking at her in slight suspicion.

"I'll forward you the whole report, he couldn't stop talking once we made him start. Nevertheless, we are certain that we can now manage to enter their world. We simply need to work out the details of disguise and precautions." The Lieutenant reported in her official voice, but he could see that she was trying to delay something.

"That's great news. It's our first break since starting this mission. And yet, there's something else, isn't there Lieutenant?"

She sighed, knowing that he was on to her. There was no point in trying to hide it anymore.

"Do you remember Harry Potter?" Durand finally asked, trying not to look at the Commander but failing thanks to her sense of duty.

"The hero kid that supposedly defeated the terrorist head while he was only one year old? Yes, I remember our esteemed minister talking about him. Apparently, he's on the run right now, though I hardly see how he could change from a hero to the most wanted man in the magical world. As you recall, we've sent many groups to attempt to find him, he must be in a big need of allies right now. What about him?"

"According to our prisoner, he's dead." She chose the deadpan approach, not allowing her voice to gain any emotional quality to it.

He sat heavily on the chair behind his desk with a sigh, rubbing his forehead slowly.

"How?"

"Bounty hunters. It was apparently on the headlines of their newspapers a few days ago. There hasn't been any protest against the claim yet."

Durand couldn't grasp how a society that supposedly revered this boy before were now happy to celebrate his death.

The Commander finally spoke, his voice heavy with strain of responsibility.

"Then we are to assume that we will not be able to find any allies in that world. Trust no one and do not hesitate to dispose of anyone while there; for all purposes, we are entering enemy territory the moment we set foot on magical soil."

"Yes sir."