Author's Note: Wow. In all honesty, I expected maybe like four people to read this. I'm ecstatic at all of the messages, reviews, favorites, views, and followers. I really didn't think I would feel the need to continue this story so quickly, but, I'm more than happy to keep going. That being said, I wrote the first three chapters something like over a year ago, hit a bit of writer's block, and haven't written a line since. So if this chapter feels a bit different or doesn't match the other chapters, it's because it's been so long since I tried to continue my idea. So I apologize. Again, thanks to everyone who reviewed or read the beginnings of this story.
Also wanted to mention that in this chapter that italics will be a flashback of sorts to the conversation Harry has with Dumbledore. As well I have not yet edited this chapter, so if you notice any big grammatical or spelling mistakes, please inform me. I don't mind a few mistakes here and there, but I don't want the words to be so convoluted with errors that it makes it an impossible read.
All the Reasons, All for You.
"Well Potter, it seems you just might have some miniscule ability after all. It took me almost ten seconds to break into your mind that time. How very…impressive."
Snape sneered down at the boy. How angry it made him, to watch the young fool stumble about, when Lily could have picked it up in less than a day. Here they were, a week into their training, and still he couldn't get a grip on Occlumency.
"Shut it, Snivellus. We both know you haven't taught him a damn thing, just opened up with a clear your mind then shoved a legillimens down his throat. Don't you remember he just had a run in with the darkest wizard of our age?"
"Careful, mutt. Back in the day you may have given me the slightest pause in a duel, but after thirteen years in Azkaban you're far too weak to insult me. Now sit down and let me do my job, however meaningless it will prove to be."
Harry was panting heavily, watching his Godfather and Snape argue back and forth. It was a bit tiring to hear them constantly berating each other, but he still had to admit, staying at the castle learning magic, however difficult, was still better than being back with the Dursley's. After listening to all Dumbledore had to tell him just over a week ago, Harry had decided it was time to step up his education. He asked if the Headmaster would train him over the summer, and during the upcoming school year. The professor, at first, declined, stating that Harry had to return to Privet Drive, so the blood wards could be replenished and keep him safe. Harry argued that keeping him locked up for another couple months wouldn't protect him anymore. Voldemort was back, true, but he wasn't going to attack the castle anytime soon, especially not with Dumbledore still around. So, Dumbledore relented, and said he could stay with him and Severus at the castle and they would teach him all they knew. At the mention of the Potion professor's name, Harry asked if he could bring his Godfather in on the training, as dealing with Snape was going to be a nightmare without any backup. The Headmaster agreed, but forbade Harry from telling him the exact wording of the prophecy and anything to do with the Horcruxes. Consequently, only Dumbledore, Snape, himself knew that he was destined to defeat Voldemort at the moment. Harry had told Hermione and Ron about the prophecy, but neglected to mention anything about Horcruxes for the moment. He didn't know how to break it to them.
The whole evening still seemed surreal to Harry. For the most part he immediately accepted what Dumbledore had revealed to him. But looking back, Harry couldn't help but feel like this was all some sort of fantasy novel, thrust by the very magic he loved so much into reality.
Harry was awestruck. He was supposedly the only one who could kill Voldemort, but to do that he had to find up to possibly seven little trinkets, hidden by what was no doubt the darkest magic conceived, to even have a chance? The very notion encased Harry's head in a whirlwind of lightheadedness. How was he going to accomplish all this? How was he going to stop his friends from dying at the hands of one of the most powerful wizards in the world? Ron, Luna, Neville, his quidditch mates, the boys from his dorm and the rest of the girls in his year, and most of all, Hermione…oh god, Hermione! She was still waiting outside!
"Sir, is it alright if I go tell Hermione to get some sleep? I'm sure she's been waiting all this time and I completely forgot to check on her."
"Of course, Harry. Did you still want to continue our discussion?"
"Yes, sir. I'll be right back."
Harry exited Dumbledore's study and ran down the spiral staircase, almost falling over a body that lay across the floor at the bottom. Catching himself, he looked down to find Hermione sprawled out over the stone steps. He smiled, she looked so much more peaceful now than she did earlier. No frantic eyes, no jittery fingers or sweaty palms. She was beautiful. Harry wasn't too awfully gifted with words, so beautiful was the best he could think of. But that was enough for him. He wanted nothing more than to reach out his hands and caress her cheeks, to fold the hair hanging limply in front of her face behind her ear, to grab hold of the nape of her neck, lean in and kiss her lips. They looked so soft, almost fragile from years of her biting them when she was nervous or extremely excited about something. Harry sighed. He didn't know what to do about his growing feelings for his best friend, and she just kept on pushing herself closer and closer to him. He didn't know how or why, but Hermione had this way of etching her mark all over the walls he had placed around his emotions. She kept leaving her namesake in his thoughts, slowly crumbling the barriers he was trying so hard to reinforce, not knowing what would happen if someone finally crossed that threshold. Harry almost laughed. Thinking back he couldn't believe he didn't realize how much Hermione shaped his everyday routine.
Thoughts like, "If I don't study for this test, Hermione will be disappointed," or "Damn, I didn't finish my potions homework, she's really gonna ream into me for this one," or "I could probably dive for the snitch right now, but I'm real close to the ground, and if I crash into the field…I don't even want to know what her reaction will be."
That last one brought Harry up short. Hurt. Hermione was always worried about Harry getting hurt. That's why she was so adamant about tutoring him this year for the tournament. But what about her? Of course Harry didn't want to see Hermione injured or in pain, but what had he ever truly done to prevent that? Yeah, he rescued her from a troll, and more than a few dozen dementors last year in the forest, but didn't he put her in danger in the first place? Second year she was petrified, simply because she tried her hardest to clear his name, to solve the mystery. If he was smarter, or worked a little harder, maybe she wouldn't have been alone in her efforts. And the big event in third year…Harry still felt bad about instantly siding with Ron's outlandish statements. By Merlin, he was dense. All those time she put herself at the forefront of the hazards in his life, Harry was mostly next to her, backing her up, but he never really tried to keep her safe. Harry glanced back down, his worry increasing with his continued thoughts about the safety of his closest companion, and decided he would never allow that to happen again. Of course she would always be in danger while Voldemort was out there, but he vowed that he would never again slack off when it came to protecting her. He was going to get stronger. He was going to discover this "power he knows not" that Voldemort was so apparently afraid of. But mostly, he was going to focus. He was not going to let his feelings for Hermione cloud his course. Being so in tune with his own thoughts, he hadn't realized he had slowly begun stroking Hermione's cheek, causing her to rouse from her slumber.
"mmm…Harry?" Hermione softly slurred out his name, groggy from her uneasy rest on the stairs.
Harry's face instantly started to boil, how was he going to explain such a…romantic gesture? Couple that with his uneasiness about the coming days, Harry's disposition became wracked with anguish. Hermione casually reached up and grasped his hand, and Harry, realizing he still hadn't responded to her, felt the fear within him intensify two-fold, not knowing how to react.
Hermione, noticing Harry's stress, was wide awake now. She leaned forward quickly, still holding Harry's hand in hers. "Harry, what is it? Is it what Professor Dumbledore told you? You looked scared, Harry. Did it have something to do with Voldemort? Or is it your injuries? Oh my gosh, Harry! You're not still in pain, are you? Wait, of course you are, silly me. What a stupid question. Harry you must tell me! Harry…I…why are you laughing?!"
Harry couldn't help it. As soon as Hermione started her rant, he was brought back from his musings. Listening to her worry over him, his heart swelled. Harry knew, in that moment, what he had decided was the right thing to do. And that it was Hermione who gave him the clarity to see it was no surprise. So he laughed. Laughed at how simple everything seemed now. Laughed at how great he felt at the moment, at how wonderful a person Hermione truly was.
"Harry I mean it! Stop laughing at me! Is this all a joke to you?" Hermione still looked pretty miffed.
At seeing her face, Harry settled down a bit. Still giggling Harry said, "Sorry 'Mione. I'm not laughing at you, I'm just ecstatic that you worry so much about me. And you made me think that what Dumbledore told me will not only be possible, but will be a certainty. Thank you, 'Mione."
"…'Mione?" To anyone else, Hermione might have looked pissed, but Harry knew she was just teasing.
Harry smirked. "Yeah. I like it. I don't know where it came from, just spur of the moment. But the more I think about it, the more it fits. 'Mione."
"Well, I can't say I hate it, much better than Herms or Hermy." Hermione couldn't help but feel her body warm to the thought of Harry calling her that. It seemed private. Special. Just for them when they were alone.
Harry looked down at their hands, still locked together. Sighing to himself, and running his free hand through his hair, he decided to end the moment by sending her to bed. "Hey Hermione I just came down to send you off to bed. I'm not done talking to the Headmaster yet, but I didn't want you to wait out here all night. Go back to the dorms and get some sleep."
"Are you sure, Harry? I don't mind, you know."
"I know, but there's no sense in missing sleep when I can always tell you about it later. I'll be in hospital wing most likely, I'm still sore and in some pain, and I'd definitely like to not dream tonight. Hopefully Madam Pomfrey can part with some Dreamless Sleep potion."
"Alright, Harry. I'll make sure to come find you when I wake up. And you can tell me all about your conversation with Dumbledore." Hermione stood up with Harry, still clinging onto his hand. Feeling brave, she leaned forward and gently brushed her lips against his cheek. She half expected Harry to freeze up again, but he didn't. If her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, she could have sworn she felt him lean into the chaste kiss. Looking up, she noticed Harry was smiling. A brighter smile than she could ever remember, and she felt herself flush. "Well, goodnight Harry." Feeling satisfied with her actions, she raced off to her dorm.
With Hermione absent, Harry felt a great weight fall upon his shoulders, as if just having her near him lifted all the troubles of the lunacy that was his life. Sighing, Harry trudged back up the spiral staircase to continue his conversation with the Headmaster.
Still feeling the burden of the world, Harry entered Dumbledore's office and gave him a rather solemn greeting. Picking up on Harry's newfound indifference, Dumbledore asked what was on Harry's mind.
"I'm sorry, sir. Just a lot on my mind. Prophecies, horcuxes, crazed mad-men after me, my friends reactions to all this." The more Harry spoke, the more he seemed to sink into depression.
"That's perfectly understandable, Harry. Many of those reasons are exactly why I wanted to keep you hidden away from all this, be that right or wrong. However, I am curious, are there any of your friends in particular that you are worrying about?" Dumbledore ended his sentiment with his trademark twinkling of his eyes, and Harry was once again struck with the notion that his favorite mentor knew exactly what was on his mind.
"Well…yes, sir. Hermione, sir. I'm not…I don't…How do I keep her safe, Professor? How can I make sure she survives all this? I know I can't just ask her to stay away from the magical world, and I can't ask her to not participate in the fight, she's too stubborn. So what do I do? She means so much to me, so much so that I can't even figure out what exactly it is I'm feeling. I just know that I…I can't lose her, Headmaster."
Dumbledore's heart seemed to swell and constrict all at once. On the one hand, he was glad his favorite, but if ever asked he would of course deny such an allegation, pupil had found such a wonderful friend to cherish. On the other, Dumbledore knew exactly what Harry was going through. After all, Dumbledore was a young lad at one point, and contrary to popular belief, did have a love life growing up.
"Well Harry, if I may add my own perceptions on the matter, I believe you're on the precipice of love, m'boy. I invite you to embrace these feelings, to indulge in the matters of the heart. True connections such as the one you share with Ms. Granger are rare, Harry. I advise you not to let it slip through your fingers."
"But sir, you said Voldemort believes in the prophecy, that he marked me as his equal, and will in all likelihood continue to hunt me down until he finally kills me. How can I subject her to that? I just can't do that, sir. I want to protect her. Not invite her to be in even more danger. I want to know how to make her safe, to make everyone safe." Harry could feel his determination rising, as if hearing Dumbledore encourage him to push his relationship with Hermione was fueling his obstinacy to deny his desires.
"I implore you not to reject your emotions, Harry." Dumbledore could see Harry recoil a bit in belligerence, not wanting to give in to his heart. "You've already spoke of how Ms. Granger won't turn her back on you, so what is stopping you from letting yourself be loved, Harry?" A lot of what surrounded Dumbledore was mere supposition, but what did hold true was the fact that above all else, Dumbledore believed in love. It could be a powerful ally, one that Harry could very well need in the upcoming war.
"Because she'll be in more danger if she is!" Harry surprised himself with his ferocity, but he didn't let it slow him down. "Even if by some miracle she wanted to be with me, I could never allow it! She would be Voldemort's number one target to get to me. And it would work, Professor. If she was captured, if she was tortured…I'd give myself up in seconds to set her free. Damn the prophecy, if Hermione lives, it's worth it!" Harry finished his speech in a rush, panting from the volume of his voice, barely taking notice of his surroundings. In his anger, he seemed to have lost control of his magic, and set all the objects upon Dumbledore's desk into a whirlwind, sending them crashing into the walls of books that adorned the edges of the room. Realizing what he had done, Harry immediately began to apologize. "I…I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to…I shouldn't lose my temper like that. It won't happen again."
Dumbledore only smiled. "Relax, m'boy. I'm more enthused that you have deep feelings for Ms. Granger than upset about some silly trinkets an old man has collected. However, I don't want you to give up hope, Harry. I would much rather you pursue these newly formed emotions than hide them away, but you seem rather determined to lock them up. I do have another question, though. How do you propose to hide them? Surely Ms. Granger will notice such a drastic change in your character."
Harry's face fell at that. "I'm not sure, yet. I'll think of something, though. I do want to ask something of you, sir."
"Of course, Harry. I'm all ears. Or rather, I'm mostly beard, but don't tell anyone I admitted to it." Dumbledore voiced, still in that same sagely tone.
Harry felt himself perk up a bit at his Headmaster's attempt at a joke. "You said you wanted to train me, to make sure I can defend myself and be strong enough to fight back against Lord Voldemort. I was just wondering sir, what will the training be?"
"An excellent question, Harry. After a bit of thinking whilst you were catering to our favorite resident witch, I believe I came up with what I hope you'll consider to be an acceptable palate of additional education. Firstly, at the start of the new school year, I'd like to visit Professor Snape's office after your main courses to learn a branch of magic called Occlumency." Dumbledore noticed the considerable dip in Harry's attention when he mentioned Severus. "Occlumency is the art of blocking your mind toward mental attacks and probing from Legilimency, its counter-twin. Effectively, you can more adeptly control your emotions and clear your mind so as to focus more efficiently on the task at hand. There is no one more qualified than Professor Snape in this magical art, Harry. He was been under false-employment with Voldemort, as we discussed, for a very long time. His skill at handling the most proficient Legilimens of the era will no doubt prove useful in teaching you to hone this much needed talent."
Harry sighed, "I know Snape-
"Professor Snape, Harry."
"But that's my point, sir." Harry continued. "He isn't a professor. No one apart from Hermione can follow his lectures, if you consider putting notes on a board lecturing. Even the Slytherins who receive extra help from him can't barely keep up in his classes. How can someone be a professor if they don't teach? I know he's brilliant at potions, Hermione tells me all the time that Snape truly does know what he's doing, but he's rubbish at explaining anything, sir."
Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, relenting at once again hearing this tale from a student. "Professor Snape is…we'll say a very socially inept character. I have known for a long time of his inadequacies at relating to the student populace, but he still manages to produce a good amount of N.E.W.T.'s in his profession. I know it will be difficult for you, Harry, but try to give Professor Snape a chance. If you try your hardest, you might be surprised how much you could learn from him."
"I'll give it my best, Professor. But I honestly don't expect the same effort from him. But that's not what I originally wanted to say. If I am to begin training, I want to start now. I don't want to go back to the Dursley's. I'd like to stay here at the castle and work through the summer and into the next school year. I know what you said about the blood-wards, but honestly Professor, I don't believe Voldemort is going to attack the school. Not while you're still around to defend it."
The Headmaster was a bit shocked at this. He knew Harry's life at the Dursley's wasn't the greatest, but he didn't expect Harry to actually want to begin right away, especially after the ordeal he just went through. Time and time again, this young man was the most pleasant of surprises to Dumbledore.
After a bit more of a discussion on the topic, Dumbledore began to see the sense in letting Harry stay. Not only could they begin sooner, but they would multiple opportunities to extend the training. He reminded himself to convince Severus later about staying at the castle for the summer. Soon they were onto the next topics of what Harry's preparations would be.
"Occlumency will be your beginning Harry, as it is most vital to your survival at the current moment. After you have mastered that, we have a long list to work upon. I would like you to study Arithmancy and Ancient Runes intensely, as they will become a large part of your future training. I know you enjoy your freedom with Divination and spending time with Hagrid in Care of Magical Creatures, but I'd like to ask you to drop those classes and take up the previously mentioned courses to take their place. I won't explain just why at the moment, as it would take many hours to fully disclose, but please note the importance of the subjects. I noticed during the tournament you began delving into silent spell-casting, something I was quite proud of, if I may say so, so will we cover that and wandless magic as well. Not everyone can perform with the use of a conduit, but you've shown potential, as you've showcased in destroying most of my desk," Dumbledore gave a small chuckle while Harry simply looked embarrassed, "and casting without the use of a wand is extremely beneficial. Of course, you'll be learning a repertoire of new spells and defenses, such as apparition, just like you've been learning all year for the tournament, and I'll personally be gifting you with knowledge of every trick I have up my sleeve in terms of dueling and fighting your opponents, as will Professor Snape. And lastly, we'll need to set up a physical regime to fit into our training efforts. Being in top physical form will be a major prerequisite for what I hope you'll be able to achieve, Harry."
After hearing Dumbledore briefly describe the plans for his training, Harry felt positively giddy with excitement at the prospect of learning for the first time since he discovered he was a wizard. In Harry's first year, he soaked up all of his classes with enthusiasm, ecstatic at the idea that he could perform magic. After learning just how much work it was being a wizard, that enthusiasm quickly died down. It almost felt like a chore after the first few weeks of studies, but that excitement had returned in full force. The last thing he wanted to ask was if Sirius could join them during the summer at the castle, even if only to help deal with the sulking Snape. Harry couldn't wait until tomorrow when he could tell Hermione and the others all the things he was going to learn.
"As interesting as your reminiscing is Potter, I must confess I thought you more disciplined than this. Not that I believe you had much to begin with." Snape was leering at Harry from across the room, looking disgusted with his current predicament.
Harry was wrought from his musings. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Typical. Did you even realize you were under the effects of a Legilimens spell?" Snape's voice drawled out, increasing in sarcasm with every syllable.
"You were in my head? You never even-"
"Of course I was. And although you might think you are Merlin's gift on Earth, you have much to learn about the art that is spellcasting. Whether what I teach actually sinks in, well, that remains to be seen. Silent magic can be devastating at its worst and deadly even with a meager understanding. Yet another concept you have yet to grasp."
"Fuck off, Snivellus!" Sirius once again jumped at a chance to harp on about Snape, but thankfully Harry agreed for once. "I'm sick of this. Come on, Harry. We've been at this for hours, and obviously Snape here has no intention of revealing any of his wealth of wisdom., let's take a break. I'll show you some of the beginner steps for mastering Occlumency."
"Right behind you, Sirius. I could use some food, to be honest. I'm starving." Harry responded with a bit more plea in his voice than he intended, but at the moment his only care was to get as far away from Snape as possible.
"Do as you wish, Potter. Just know that if you truly want to accomplish a mastery of Occlumency, you will need my expertise." With that, Snape swiftly drifted out of the room, black cloak billowing behind him.
"You know, I truly do hate that barmy bat, but I gotta say, I really need to learn how he gets his cloak to flow behind him like that. It really is awesome looking." Sirius said with a laugh.
Harry wanted to smile at the joke, but couldn't help but wonder why he was so loathed by his Potions Professor. He decided to ask his Godfather. "Hey Sirius, I have a question."
"And I may or may not be inclined to answer," Sirius smiled at his own hard-headedness, "but go ahead and shoot, cub."
"Why does Snape hate me so much?" Harry really wanted to know this. Most of his own dislike for the man stemmed from the latter's extreme distaste for him. "I mean, I know he apparently didn't like my dad, but he can't hate me that much simply because I look like him. I don't remember my dad at all, am I that much like him?"
Sirius sighed, and motioned for Harry to follow him out the door. "Let's head down to the kitchens Harry, I'll tell you what I think on the way."
Sirius and his Godson set off down the hallway to the staircase, heading towards the kitchen. Harry walked next to the aging Marauder, head slightly cocked to listen to Sirius' story.
"Before I begin, I want you to know that although my thoughts are based upon real events, it's simply my opinion on the matter. I truly have no idea why the slimy git hates you as he does." Sirius began speaking, the jolly tone of his voice betraying the true, gritty weight behind his words. "When I first came to Hogwarts, I met a young boy on the train. We sat in the same compartment the whole way, talking and telling jokes and sharing in our excitement at the thought of going to Hogwarts. We became fast friends, and remained so for a very, very long time. Can you guess who that boy was?"
"My dad?" Harry wondered, figuring Sirius was just asking to amuse him.
Sirius chuckled, his body shaking slightly with his infectious laugh. "Of course that's the obvious answer. But no, I didn't meet your father until after the sorting. No, the boy I met was none other than Severus."
Harry was shocked. "How in the world could you be friends with him?! He became a Death Eater!"
"It was a different time, Harry. And Snape wasn't always the sour, moping little man he is now. He wasn't exactly outgoing, of course, but he surely had some good aspects about him. Intelligent, hardworking, ambitious. All good attributes to have, especially for someone like me who was never the homework type. I may have failed my first few years if it weren't for his help." Sirius continued with his tale, almost smiling remember the good memories. "After we were sorted into our houses, we still hung out all the time. First night I spent in the dorms with your dad I knew I found a true brother-in-arms, and Remus tagged along with Peter for most of our adventures, but Snape was around about half the time. In the very beginning, your dad and Snape were actually pretty good friends."
Harry's jaw dropped at that one. "Surely, you can't be serious?!"*
"I am Sirius. And don't call me Shirley."* Sirius winked at Harry out of the corner of his eye, causing Harry's mouth to expand even more than humanly possible. This was absolutely ridiculous. His dad and the resident snake supreme were friends?
Re-gathering his wits, Harry responded, "So what happened? If my dad and Snape were okay with each other, what happened?"
"What happens with any two men who are friends? A woman." At this, Sirius gave his first over-bearing sigh of the conversation. "Your mother, Lily. As we got older, obviously we became interested in girls, unsurprising, especially looking back at how rambunctious we were. Lily and Snape already knew each other before coming to Hogwarts, so they were closer than even James and I."
"Wait, wait, wait. My mom was friends with Snape, too?"
"Yep, 'fraid so, pup. Close friends. In our third year, James confessed to me he was really starting to fall for Lily. Also unsurprising. I think we all were a little in love with her. I wish you could have known her, Harry. You would have loved her. She was such a beautiful person. Strong. Steady. More will-power than even the most narcissistic misogynist on a power-trip. Brilliant. But mostly what drew people to her was her passion for being compassionate. She never pre-judged anyone. She always reserved her decisions about others until after they expressed who they were. She had her flaws, of course, although they were few and far between. Lily was stubborn to a fault, and boy did she have a fiery temper. I don't think any one of us had a shot in hell at beating her in a duel when she was angry. A truly, once in a lifetime type of woman, your mother was."
Harry couldn't help but be aware of how much his was reminded of Hermione. Brilliant, beautiful, stubborn. His beautiful bookworm. Knowing that his mother and best friend shared so much in common brought a smile to Harry's face, only to be swept away instantly by a creeping intrusion into his thoughts.
"Wait. Sirius you said it was a woman who put a stop to my dad's and Snape's friendship. Are you saying…?"
"Again, 'fraid so. Shortly after your dad confessed his feelings for your mother to me, he had decided he was going to ask the great Lily Evans out on a date to Hogsmeade. When he did, he found out that he was too late, Severus already asked. And for the next four years, your mother dated Severus Snape."
Harry felt like he was going to faint from the absurdity of that statement.
*This line is from the movie Airplane!. I absolutely thought it was hilarious, and decided to throw it in as a bit of gag. I've read a lot of "I am Sirius" jokes but never one with a reference to this line, and figured why not, let's throw it in there.