A/N: Hey guys! so sorry it has taken so long to update but i've had problems editing this one. I'll try update more regularly from now on, please be patient. Thx

Chapter 5

He didn't know what to do with himself, he was too fidgety to do homework and there wasn't enough time to go anywhere else. His lesson with Snape was in less than twenty minutes. He was beginning to get jumpy, starting at bangs from some fist years playing Exploding Snap. He wished he had gone to the library with his friends, at least then he would have something to do.

He flopped down on his bed, trying to clear his mind, he had been doing so all day in class. So far as he could tell, it wasn't working. Hermione had been chiding him all day about just spacing out and not concentrating but Harry was worried about how he was going to stop Snape seeing certain memories. The Potions Master had not seen them last year but then he didn't know why. Luck was his guess.

He decided it was time to go down to the dungeons, stepped out the portrait and made his way down the stairs. Walking past the owlery, he felt a pang of loss. Hedwig was gone, the only one he felt, who had really understood him. She had always been there after, after… No, don't think about it. Now wasn't the time.

Quickly he passed the passages of classrooms and neared the entrance hall. Stopping in the shadows just to one side he took a gulp of potion- not a lot in case it made him relax too much. Slowly he descended the dungeon stairs and walked along to the classroom door. Gathering himself, trying to control his dread and anxiety, he knocked.

'Enter'

He did so, keeping a little distance from the desk his teacher sat at. Snape looked up appraisingly at him. Harry hated that look; it felt like the professor was trying to see straight through him. His nervousness was returning with a vengeance.

'Sit and we shall begin.'

Once seated Harry looked up, his composure only just in tact. He really didn't know how he was going to get through it, if not even five minutes in he felt like this.

'We are going to try a different approach from last time Potter, as that undoubtedly failed.' This came with an unfathomable look. 'But it isn't going to work unless there is a bigger attempt on your part. Occlumency requires practice and dedication and will not be achieved with sub-standard efforts.' The last part he said in a menacing tone. Harry agreed wholeheartedly, it was his failure at this last year that had lead to Sirius' death; he was going to do this. The guilt pressed heavily on him.

'Yes sir.' He never met the professors' eyes.

'Right. I want you to imagine a wall'

'A wall, sir?' He looked up, surprised.

'It is not a very hard concept Potter'

'What sort?'

'What ever you wish, imagine it in detail; clear all other thoughts from your mind.'

Harry was trying to do so, but part of him would not lose track of everything and concentrate. He was constantly aware of the Potions Master.

'Let go Potter' Harry was not about to just 'let go', he couldn't.

'You're not doing it, Potter' How did the evil git know?

'I'm trying' Harry muttered, on receiving a look from Snape quickly added 'sir'

'Try harder, again.' What did he expect of him? He could not just drop all his defences in an attempt to build new ones, in the presence of a man. Particularly this man. Bad things happened when he dropped his guard.

After a few more attempts Harry still hadn't managed it. He couldn't do what the man was asking and it was making him uneasy.

'Now Potter, I want you to imagine the wall around your mind and memories. Make it like a barrier between you and an intruder. Clear your emotions and focus on your wall.' Harry was trying, but he knew what was coming next and that distracted him even more as he carefully watched Snape. Apparently the former death eater noticed.

'Potter I assure you I am not going to jump you, now focus.' His voice was irritated, which only furthered Harry's agitation.

'Ready yourself, Legilimens.'

Harry gasped as the spell crashed against his thin mental shield.

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Snape carefully tempered down the spell just before it hit the boy, making it weaker. There was no way the boy would block his full power, he had been surprised he had managed it at all last year. But then again he had not exactly been trying his hardest to educate the boy in the art. That had partly led to that fiasco at the Ministry of Magic. Anyhow the child was not about to do it in his present state of mind, he refused to let himself go completely.

He felt a jolt as the spell hit the barrier in Potter's mind, felt the child franticly trying to maintain it, but Snape pushed on a little harder, curious to see what memories were there.

A small child running from a bulldog; looking down in bewilderment from the top of a building he hadn't been on a moment before; conversing in Parselmouth to a large Boa Constrictor; the thrill of riding a broomstick for the first time; Cedric Diggory's lifeless body lying discarded on the ground, a dark stone room…

'Gaaaaah' Potter yelled: he was kneeling on the ground, clutching his head, his glasses askew.

Severus had easily dodged whichever defensive spell the child had, no doubt obliviously, used to get him out of his head. What had that last bit of memory been?

He wanted to find out.

'Get up Potter and we shall try again.'

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He got to his feet. It was rather typical that Snape would find that memory first time, it had been all he could do to keep the man out of it. And judging by the look Snape had on his face it wasn't going to stay that way for long.

Nervously he looked at the door, if all was shot he could run. He imagined the wall, a high grey slate affair, much like the ones used in prisons, as that's what his mind felt like.

'On three Potter, one – two – three - Legilimens'

The spell hit him, stronger than before, pushing its way through his defences and flitting through his memories, as it hit his latest vision it slowed, as if to watch. Harry didn't know Snape could do this, furiously he tried to get the man out as the memory started to play out.

He felt the presence in his mind being forced outward, he pushed harder, battling against an unseen foe. The presence withdrew and his mind was freed. He realised he was on the floor again. Slowly he got up, trembling slightly. Snape would not be happy. He stared at his feet.

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The Potion Master looked at the child in front of him, vaguely amused that Potter seemed to think he was going to punish him. True, he didn't like people, well actually, loathed people knowing about his affairs, particularly those ones, but Potter looked like he was about to bolt.

'Well Potter, it seems you can do it with the right motivation.' His voice was cuttingly sarcastic. The boy was pale, shaking slightly, he was unsure if it was from the mental strain or the fear or reprimand. Probably both. Potter had been jittery all evening, Snape wondered if he was hiding something.

'Once more.' He was sure the boy would be unable to shield a secret after the prolonged exertion. Especially as he was becoming more distracted and unfocused.

He entered his student's mind, easily overcoming the barrier. Memories flooded round him, carefully he pushed deeper, ignoring Potter's feeble resistance. Searching he found what he was looking for. There was a blackness there, a fog almost, obscuring something. Curiously he moved to it. He felt a tug, a desperate attempt from the boy to free himself. Snape relented, he had found what he wanted. Untangling himself, he released Potter's mind, coming into the present.

Potter was struggling to his feet but as he finally managed to stand, the Potions Master could see it wasn't going to last long.

Quickly he strode round the desk...

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Harry staggered, he was on the verge of unconsciousness. He hadn't managed to keep Snape out but then something had happened… he had somehow protected his memories. He was so tired… he swayed, and suddenly Snape moved forward, toward him. Harry tried to move away but before he knew it, darkness engulfed him.

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Severus caught the boy as he collapsed. The child was rather light. He cursed himself: he had pushed him too hard for his current abilities. But Potter had been doing occlumency, only on certain memories as well, that was extremely difficult.

He deposited the limp body on one of the chairs in the classroom and quickly went to his private stores for a potion to give the boy. He selected two and went back. Pushing the boy's head back and opening his mouth, the Potions Master poured the fluid in and put his hand over Potter's mouth and nose. Using his other hand he pressed on either side of the youth's trachea. He found that it was the most effective way to force down liquids.

The boy coughed and spluttered, getting his bearing. On seeing him, Potter jumped, wrenching back and away from him.

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Harry looked round wildly, what was going on? One minute they were battling it out in his mind the next he had Snape leaning over him, far too close, an empty vial in one hand and a full one in the other.

'Here, drink this.' Snape was not being as sardonic as usual.

He looked at the potion. He did not want to drink it, he had a massive headache and the rest of him hurt something terrible. He was sure he could feel blood running down his back. What he needed was his own brew, which was in his pocket and he needed to get out.

'It's not poison, Potter' Snape said sharply.

'What is it, sir?' He wished the man would back up slightly and give him some space.

'Just a mental boosting potion'

Harry didn't think taking it was optional. Taking a deep breath, he knocked back the contents of the small glass container. It was not pleasant tasting.

'Next week your lesson will be on Tuesday, same time. You may go.'

Harry didn't need to be told twice, he was out of the classroom in record time. He made his way along to the fifth floor bathrooms, medicating himself as he went.

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Severus watched the boy race out the classroom. He was still pale but there was nothing Snape could give him for that after the other two, they would not act well with anything else.

He glanced down, something catching eye; he was startled to find his hand stained red. The blood was not his own, he had no cuts. That meant it was Potter's.

More pieces in the puzzle.

He was determined to get to the bottom of this in their next lesson.

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Harry locked the door, it was late and he wasn't likely to be disturbed but it paid to be cautious. He started striping off his robes and shirt, until he was bare from the waist up. He looked over his shoulder and into the mirror behind him. His back wasn't a pretty sight.

Ignoring all the other abrasions and damage, he focused his attention on a large laceration in the small of his back. This one refused to heal, it continually opened. Grabbing some toilet paper he tried to staunch the little rivers of blood. It was difficult, doing it behind him. Once done, he awkwardly pointed at it with his wand, muttering the appropriate cleaning spell. Harry studied it carefully.

It was deep and ragged, in an awkward position and unhealthy looking. He was worried it was getting infected. Tomorrow he would try to look up a healing spell.

Conjuring some gauze and a bit of tape, the sort used in muggle hospitals, he fixed up the injury as best he could and headed back to his dorm, cleaning his robes as he went.