Woo, I'm back with another chapter. I definitely hadn't thought at the start that I would get to chapter fifty in such a short time.
Thank you so, so much everyone for leaving reviews, likes and follows.
Enjoy!
Chapter fifty – Secrets of the Heart
''Eventful day, wasn't it?''
Harry didn't open his eyes as he felt the bed dip when the Horcrux appeared. The day's rest had clearly done the young Dark Lord some good, he was far more corporeal today than usual. Harry had been thinking about everything that had happened within the last few hours, all the while trying to adjust the rolled-up mandrake leaf stuck beneath his tongue. It was thankfully small enough to keep speaking without any difficulty, but he'd found out that it made everything he drank taste weirdly grass-like.
''Not sure if I would call it that,'' he replied. ''Worrying, more likely.'' With everything that was going on already, the last thing he needed was more lessons with Dumbledore and Snape. The one bright spot was that these Occlumency lessons weren't given by the Headmaster personally. He would have rather fled Hogwarts than let Dumbledore in his head. Snape was only marginally better…
''I know what you mean. This Snape may be a Death Eater, there are still many things you know that my followers shouldn't.''
''How much did you see?'' Harry curiously asked.
''Of what he saw in your head? Nothing. I also won't unless I use Legilimency on you at the same time, which might reveal my presence if Snape is as well-apt at the skill as he seems to be. It creates quite the dilemma. Learning Occlumency is a great opportunity, and you can't say no to it if Dumbledore ordered it and might check on your progress. However, if you do not become proficient in it fast, you will reveal far too many of my secrets, perhaps even my presence. And in case of Snape reporting back to my older self… no, I can't have that. Did he see any memories that would link to me personally?''
''No, there were some flashes from before Hogwarts and my first years here, until the summer I met Voldemort. I suspect that he was very interested in those, I got the feeling that he saw far more memories about that than anything else. That was more than a year still before I met you.''
''It was all chronological?''
''Yeah, I think so. Isn't it supposed to be?'' He sat up now and looked at the Horcrux, whose eyes showed flecks of red that hinted at agitation.
''Everyone stores their memories differently, we can use to our advantage that you now know how your mind works. So, we have until Wednesday to build up your mental defences.''
''Snape said to empty my mind. I've been trying just now but thoughts keep popping up. I can just hear him already: 'Didn't try hard enough, did you Potter?'' He sighed deeply at that, whereas the Horcrux merely threw him an amused look.
''You already told me at the very start that he is a horrible teacher, I'm not surprised that he can't properly explain Occlumency,'' it started on a haughty tone that promised a lengthy explanation. Harry didn't even ask, only sitting even more upright to give the Horcrux his undivided attention. ''The only point where I agree fully with Snape is that magic is not an exact science. What he failed to see, however, is what this means for you as a student trying to learn something so subtle and fickle as mental protection using magic. You have to be allowed enough time and opportunities to find your own way, which he did not provide.
From his little speech before, I figured out the way that his mental blockades work: he associates each memory with a certain emotion. When he then empties his mind and cancels out all emotions, the memories become impossible to grasp. When someone would attempt Legilimency on him, they might notice the presence of thoughts and memories, but nothing can call those forward, they remain untouchable. This can only be broken by someone… well, someone like me, whose Legilimency tactics are designed to invoke chaos and pain in the mind to break the Occlumens' concentration that calms their emotions in the first place. Naturally, I doubt that this is his only tactic, he is most likely also able to cast someone out of his thoughts much like you did with him, and can insert false memories, but those are advanced steps that we can take after you have a basic defence.''
''Which you will teach me in… what, two days?''
''We don't have time the next days. No, it's best if you get it down tonight.''
Harry let out a disbelieving laugh at that, but the Horcrux' serious expression didn't change. ''I barely managed to expel him from my mind and that was after two hours! I'm dead tired now, you can't expect me to-'' he halted and leaned back slightly as the Horcrux raised a pale finger to Harry's lips.
''Oh, I'm sure you can with the right motivation,'' it spoke sinisterly. It moved fluidly, pressing the tips of its fingers against Harry's temples while staring directly into his eyes. ''I am not your teacher, I am not bound to any rules. I will tell you of possible methods to create the first basic barrier and you will follow my instructions to the letter. Fail to do so, and I will dig up the most excruciating memories I can possibly find. Oh yes, it's an added bonus that your protection against attacks doesn't work on me.''
Harry opened and closed his mouth, then just glared at the Horcrux. ''Before we try that, could you first use the mirror to talk to Voldemort about this? He might be interested in knowing that Snape is digging through my mind and possibly finds out about Horcruxes and all that. Maybe none of this will be necessary if your older self forbids Snape from continuing.''
The Horcrux withdrew and ran a hand through its neatly-styled hair. ''Perhaps,'' it murmured. ''Don't think this will keep me from teaching you Occlumency, but then we won't be in such a hurry.''
A rushing sound filled Harry's ears and he blinked a couple of times. Next he knew, the Horcrux sat on the other side of his bed and the two-way mirror of Barty lay on the blanket. ''He wasn't available,'' it informed him in an annoyed voice. ''Crouch answered the call and said that my older self was out. He also assured me however, that we shouldn't worry about Snape. It seems that your dear Potions Professor knew better than to snoop in your mind without permission and had the sense to also talk to my older self about it. Crouch didn't say much else about it.''
''I suppose I should have expected that,'' Harry grumbled. ''Snape is a very self-preserving bastard. I don't get why Voldemort would give him permission though!''
''It is unimportant now. Let's continue, we've lost enough time.''
Harry groaned and fell back into his pillow. ''You know, sometimes I wish I wasn't involved in this mess at all. Not even in 'I don't want to be someone famous'… Can I trade my general physical existence for something else so I don't have to put up with expectations anymore? Becoming a concept sounds nice.''
The Horcrux just stared at him. ''Is that really a philosophical discussion you want to have now?'' it asked, sounding a bit baffled. ''It is an interesting idea and technically, people could give up their physical forms to become something else entirely but-''
Harry chuckled. He sometimes forgot that his sense of humour didn't align much with Voldemort's. ''It was a joke, forget it. Well, I don't have a better plan than you teaching me Occlumency before Snape sucks my brain out, so go ahead.''
The Horcrux threw him one more strange look, as if it was concerned for Harry's mental state. Maybe it was. ''Good. There are three main methods that can be used in preventing a Legilimens from accessing your thoughts. First of all, we have the method I described before which Snape uses: making your thoughts impossible to touch. Secondly, you can conceal them: warp or blur the memories so much that a Legilimens can barely get any readable information from them. Thirdly, there is a full block, which I use myself. Instead of influencing the way you store or present your memories, it affects the mind in its entirety and builds an invisible wall around it. This does, however, require copious amounts of imagination, which I am unsure you possess. In either case, we'll try all three. If none fit you, we'll have to get creative.''
''Do I need my wand?''
''No. I haven't the faintest why Snape told you to pick up your wand, it isn't necessary to perform Occlumency. Perhaps he wished to see if you would instinctively react physically rather than mentally?''
Harry shrugged at that, unable to answer any questions about the motivations that drove Snape to do anything. If he could read the surly man, he'd have made another fortune by predicting Snape's actions and selling that information to the Weasley Twins. ''Then let's do this.''
''Good. For the first method, I want you to take on a meditative stance as if you are preparing for a ritual. We'll do this on a small scale first. Take hold of a few specific memories and link them to some strong emotions. Then, let go of those emotions. Practise that a couple of times until you get a feeling for how to. Expand the idea to a larger scale. When I enter your mind, I want you to let go of the feeling that any memory I touch invokes in you. If I look at something that makes you angry, let go of that anger and the memory should slip from my grasp. It is all about control and reaction time. Too little focus, and I can easily invoke strong feelings again. Too slow, and I will have seen the full memory before you can take it away from me. Understood?''
''Vaguely,'' Harry spoke with uncertainty. ''I get theory, but how to put it into practise is still beyond me.''
''That's what practise is for.''
''It isn't much practise when I know failing will give you full access to my most private thoughts,'' he countered with a growl. ''What did you even mean with 'excruciating memories'?''
''Oh, I'm sure I'll find something. Even if your mind naturally works chronologically, a skilled Legilimens can find memories tied to specific emotions easily no matter where they are if not properly disguised or shielded. The most effective way for you to resist is for me to search for things you do not want me to see. From what I heard, Snape mostly saw memories tied to fear… but you are not ashamed of fear, are you Harry? You overcame many of your fears, you grew stronger. You wouldn't mind showing me that.''
''Just… let's get on with it,'' Harry said, starting to feel uncomfortable. He didn't really want to know upfront what memories the Horcrux would be searching for instead. It wasn't as if he'd have a choice. Breathing in deeply, Harry took a relaxed position to meditate. It came easily to him, although even in a meditative state, he could never fully expel his emotions. As told, he searched for some random memories, although he found that he didn't need to tie them to emotions, they already were. No matter which event of the past came to mind, he always felt something already. How was he supposed to 'let go' of those? He tried his best to try and feel neutral about transpired events, suppressing every flare of anger, fear or joy that he felt. He wasn't sure if it worked, but eventually signalled that he was ready to try.
''Look at me.''
Jerking up his head, he met the Horcrux's eyes, which were widened slightly and had turned back to dark green, illuminated by Harry's wand, which lay next to them. Voldemort really had had beautiful eyes before they'd turned red…
''Legilimens.''
Pain crashed down on him, and Harry had absolutely no chance of even attempting to take note of any emotions tied to the memories that flashed before his eyes as the Horcrux tore through his mind. Other than with Voldemort however, Harry at least saw whatever it was looking at. Not as much as with Snape, but he was aware of the memory itself instead of only being consumed by anguish. He saw himself, standing in anger in the Dursley's living room as Aunt Marge insulted his parents and was blown up as a result. It ended as abruptly as it had started, and Harry scrambled away a bit to put as much distance between them as possible - which was a difficult feat considering they both sat on a single bed.
''I thought you were going to train me in how to resist Snape!'' he spoke, a tad angry. ''This is completely different from the Legilimency he performs!''
''As I said, I was not in your mind at the same time as Snape was,'' the Horcrux stiffly spoke. ''His technique may differ from mine. However, the principle of defence remains the same, you should not make it dependent on the Legilimens who casts the spell on you. That would require developing multiple techniques, which would weaken each individual one. The same goes for Legilimency: I specialise in force, not precision or subtlety. Should I attempt to invade your mind more… gently, you would find it far easier to shake me off than is the case with Snape, as I am unused to it.''
Harry rubbed his forehead, the pain from before still lingered somewhat. He absolutely hated Legilimency, especially the way that Voldemort, and apparently his younger self too, did it. ''But like this, I'm not even properly in the memory, it's as if watching it from the outside. If that's the case, it's best to instantly teach me how to create a wall instead of trying multiple techniques. I can barely see the memory you're looking at through all the pain, and with Voldemort that's even worse. There's no way that I can get a hold of my own memories long enough to blur them or erase the emotions or whatever.''
''As I just said,'' it spoke, getting an impatient tone. ''You should not make it dependent on the Legilimens!''
Harry tried very hard to control himself and was rather proud for not punching the other's face in or shouting. He didn't know how to get it through the Horcrux's thick skull that in order to learn how to defend his mind, he evidently needed to find the best way to defend against the one he was practising with. He could only hope that it would also work on Snape, of course. There was no way that he could succeed in Occlumency techniques that depended on changing anything about his own memories if he was too busy combatting pain to notice which memories were being sifted through. ''Sometimes, you are a brilliant teacher,'' he said in exasperation. ''And sometimes you can be really thick.''
He regretted those words when the Horcrux lunged at him and a wand -his own holly wand, he noticed – was pressed against the hollow of his throat. ''Careful, Harry. I'm not doing any of this for fun, so I will use any methods necessary to make you comply.''
Taking a large risk in the hope of that the Horcrux wouldn't wish to lose teaching time on harming Harry, he swatted the wand away. Even the slight, shocked widening of the Horcrux's eyes at Harry's audacity was very satisfying. ''I was only trying to make it clear to you why I know it won't work the way you're asking of me right now!'' he countered, trying not to be intimidated. ''I want to learn this as quickly as possible too, so also take my feedback into account. Please, just try to teach me how to put up a wall first, if that doesn't work then I'll give up and move on to the other thing you mentioned or practice this one again. The fact that you use a barrier yourself, also does make me trust in it a bit more than the other approaches if I'm honest.''
The wand disappeared altogether, though the Horcrux still gave him a suspicious look with narrowed eyes. Not for the first time, Harry wished it would have allowed him to try and connect like he had to the other Horcruxes. He really wondered what it was feeling right now. Had Harry succeeded in appeasing the other a bit? Feeling confident, he added: ''Also, as you were so adamant about digging up memories I dislike as motivation, you might want to ease down on the pain a little bit. Can't motivate me if I barely notice what you're looking at.''
It hissed softly in displeasure. ''I'll agree to it at the start,'' it finally spoke. ''Only because you are so incompetent and need an easy learning curve.'' It was clearly meant as mockery, but Harry simply shrugged that off. He didn't have energy to waste on stupid power plays. If he could learn Occlumency like this, why take extra hurdles? ''Although the last memory I saw made me curious… Every single person I have seen the mind of had something to dig up… dirty secrets, uncomfortable moments… Yet using magic on a Muggle who insulted you was your most shameful memory?''
''I used to be ashamed of much,'' Harry admitted, relaxing a bit at the Horcrux's words. So it hadn't been able to find anything 'excruciating'? That was great to know. ''Of my own existence, of bothering my family… I grew out of that as soon as I realised how much they'd used me. Afterwards, I was only ever ashamed of small things. Having to lie to my friends for example, or losing control of my magic like you saw just now. None of it affects me a great deal though, I know some things are necessary or beyond my grasp.''
It didn't look like the Horcrux was very happy with that answer, for he abruptly continued with: ''Creating a barrier it is then. You need not empty your mind for this, instead throwing up a blockade to make your mind impenetrable. The disadvantage is that you will need to keep it intact at any moment you suspect anyone could try to look into your mind. It will drain your energy and magic, especially at the start when creating it is not second nature to you yet.''
''That's fine. Better than anything I have now. Hey, does the necklace I have work similarly? It, too, just blocks attempts to look at my thoughts, right?''
''It does, but to a far lesser extent. You cannot rely on items forever. The first step is shielding visualisation: close your eyes and picture looking at yourself. As you do so, imagine a bubble forming around your head. It doesn't need to be a bubble per se, think of anything that you feel comfortable having as a protective barrier. Flames, smoke, fabric to name a few examples… Imagine it encasing your head entirely, forming a layer between you and the rest of the world.'' Harry had less trouble with it than he'd thought he would, picturing thick black smoke to wrap around his head. He drew inspiration from both the tendrils of smoke that the Horcrux used as a defensive mechanism, as well as the creeping black shadows that Voldemort created at times he was agitated.
''Now settle this shield, make it real by feeding it with magic from within. Remember, all magic does is to change the world around us, it can enhance mental energy just as easily as summoning physical objects out of nothing. Try to feel that spark of power deep within your chest, connect it to the image you just formed and tell it what you want. You control everything it does, Harry,'' the Horcrux spoke, spurring him on. ''Finally, mentally, so nonverbally and wandlessly, cast the spellOcclumens.''
The Gryffindor did as told, using the words as guidance to envision his next steps. He felt something, a warmth that spread through his entire body , going all the way up to the top of his head. He could see the smoke that whirled around his own mind, sparks of electricity shooting through it as he fed it his magic-
''Stop, stop!'' the other harshly commanded, and Harry abruptly opened his eyes. It didn't do much, he only saw smoke, which instantly started filling his lungs as he tried to speak. Panicking, Harry tried to search for his wand. As his concentration broke however, the barrier broke with it. The smoke that had filled the air between the closed bed hangings disappeared on its own. ''Too much!'' the Horcrux spoke, shaking its head. ''You made it too real. Good thing that I can use your wand and cast a shield charm, else we'd have woken up everyone in this room with that aggressive magic.''
Harry rubbed his eyes and kept coughing, his throat burned like hell… ''Maybe smoke wasn't such a good idea,'' he spoke with uncertainty.
''Nonsense, it worked miraculously well. Too well, but you'll just have to tone it down a tad. Your problem is that you tried making it too physical. It needs to stay a mental barrier. Try it again.'' If Harry didn't know better about how much of a bastard the Horcrux was, he'd almost have thought there to be a hint of approval in the other's voice. Surely imagination…
It took a few more times before Harry thought he got a grip of it, no smoke appearing in the room itself anymore. The Horcrux had advised him to imagine his mind as a physical place, so he'd created a mental image very reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room, fireplace and all. Once he had that, it was much easier to imagine the smoky barrier as encasing the walls of the room. At long last, the Horcrux indicated that it'd try to perform Legilimency again. He steeled himself for the moment, trying to visualise his shield with his eyes open now so he wouldn't be caught by surprise at the spell.
''Legilimens!''
He resisted for all of three seconds, after which he was so overwhelmed by surprise at actually succeeding, that the concentration slipped from his grasp. As a result, he was sucked up in the streams of his own memories, which he saw properly now that there was barely any pain as it had promised. Harry was thirteen, and desperately tried to cast the Patronus Charm to protect his Godfather. It wasn't enough, he wasn't strong enough. Anguish engulfed him as he realised his own failure, tears stung as black spots started to appear in his vision. He'd failed to protect Sirius…
''That's not true!'' Harry shouted. The smoke was useless on the walls now, so he gave it a new purpose, using it similarly to how the Horcrux always did, forming tendrils that ensnared the hostile presence in his mind, trying to capture it. ''I saved him in the end!'' The presence was too fast, escaping the lunging coils of smoke, diving into the next memory, where Harry was forced to follow.
Harry was fourteen and caught in a nightmare, a massive black dragon chasing him through a forest. Teeth blinked, claws ripped up the ground and trees all around. Fear shot up in his throat, until the moment where Voldemort arrived and reduced the beast to nothing. Harry was thankful, but beneath that, uncomfortable. The man he looked up to had just seen him running away from danger instead of facing it. Harry had needed protection from something as stupid as a dream…
''No! That's private!'' he yelled. He balled the smoke in his mind up to a tight ball and blasted it at the Horcrux.
''Effective,'' it said as they both returned to the normal world, away from entangled thoughts and wisps of dreams. Harry panted hard, feeling sweat running over his back. All muscles were aching, which was a very unpleasant and unexpected side effect, considering he was trying to practise his mental resistance. ''But not enough.''
Harry barely had time to put his shield back in place and enforce it with more magic when he was assaulted again.
''Private, hmm? What else do you consider private, Harry?'' The mental force pushed on the shield for much longer now, but then there was a flare of pain and the Horcrux broke through. Harry should have known that it wouldn't play fair.
Harry stared at younger version of the current Horcrux, the diary, watching as it spoke and observing how good he looked…. He was in the Quidditch changing rooms, looking away each time he found his gaze drifting to Oliver Wood's naked back as the Keeper showered… Voldemort leaned in, pushing a finger into Harry's mouth to heal the blisters after his mouth had been burned by that damned ritual, lingering a bit longer than necessary… Clouds of dark, delicious magic rushed over him for the first time after Voldemort's resurrection and he practically curled up against the man's still naked body… Harry had a great time dancing with Ginny at the Yule Ball, although the dancing felt all wrong, and he pushed the thought away of how much more pleasant it would be with someone of a different stature altogether…
He fought against this new turn of events in slight panic. What was the Horcrux even searching for? What was this? He struggled to break free again, to form another bullet of smoke to fire at the other, but his willpower failed. Emotions and feelings he'd pushed down for years were being ripped to the surface and examined, and as much as Harry wanted to stow it all away, he was also wondering where this was going.
Harry healed Voldemort's hands, staring at them in fascination, the skin was so soft, so beautiful… That same hand curled around his throat and two blazing red eyes were the only thing he could make out in Voldemort's bedroom, which he'd apparated straight into when imagining 'safety'… He downed the alcohol quickly at Lughnasadh after an onslaught of confusing feelings at seeing a peek of a perfect, exposed patch of leg… Harry dove into a memory of a memory, seeing Voldemort's encounter with Morfin Gaunt again, first thought on his mind how tall, dark and handsome Riddle looked.
Without doing anything himself, Harry was flung back to reality, staring at the Horcrux in horror as soon as he opened his eyes again, which he'd screwed shut in pain. It had a disturbing glint in its eyes and before Harry could say anything, it started laughing hysterically. Unable to bear it, Harry ripped open the bed curtains and fled to the bathroom, trying to block out the sound. He didn't care about waking up his roommates anymore, he felt too sick and ashamed right now to think of anything else. All the little pieces he'd try to deny over the years now clicked together. How had he been so blind? So obtuse?
''You didn't know?'' the Horcrux taunted him, materialising out of thin air.
''Shut up, SHUT UP!'' Harry screamed, curling up in a ball of misery.
The bathroom door crashed open, and a panicked Ron ran in, crouching down. '''Harry? Harry, what's wrong? Merlin, you gave us all the fright of our lives! Hey, what happened?''
Harry couldn't speak anymore, shaking his head furiously and wiping away tears as they formed. His friend sat next to him in awkward silence. Behind them, Harry could hear the voices of Seamus and Neville, though he didn't listen to what they were saying. It took him long to calm down again, very long, and it spoke for Ron's character that he didn't just leave. Harry didn't think he'd have had the patience. ''Sorry for the noise,'' he finally said, taking a few deep breaths, ''I don't know what to say. I… I had a nightmare and… I realised something about myself.'' He had to force those words out. Leaving them unspoken would have been so much easier at this moment, but Harry knew that if he wouldn't put them out in the open, he'd just push it away again and pretend all was well.
''Hey, come on, let me help you back to bed, this floor is really cold and uncomfortable,'' Ron spoke, clearly trying to light up the mood a bit. Harry complied, refusing to meet the eyes of his dormmates, not wanting to know the level of their annoyance over being woken up in the middle of the night. Because he was so busy not looking anywhere, Harry didn't realise where the Horcrux had moved to until he sat down on his own bed.
Two arms came up from behind, holding him in a steel grip before he had a chance to react. Ron was still trying to talk to him, but Harry's brain was trying to catch up to the Horcrux's words that were being whispered into his ear at the same moment: ''That was an insensitive reaction of me, Harry. Let me make it up to you.''
''No,'' Harry rasped out, breaking free and standing up again, interrupting his poor friend mid-sentence. ''I… I mean…'' he stammered as he finally took in the expressions of the others. Seamus looked rather angry, Dean had his eyebrows raised, and Neville was fussing over his plant, maybe in an attempt to avoid having to partake in the situation. Harry wished he also had a plant to cuddle right now. It would make things a lot easier than having to deal with people. ''Thank you. Really, but you're all missing sleep because of me. Sorry for the ruckus, I'll be fine. Just need… some time. Time and rest. Ron, can we talk about this later?''
''Of course, mate, but you're sure this has nothing to do with dark magic? Or You-Know-Who?''
Harry, who hadn't realised that that had been the topic before and could understand Ron's concern even better now, furiously shook his head. ''No, nothing,'' he adamantly stated, his voice sounding oddly high at the lie. He looked back to his bed, where the Horcrux was staring at him unblinkingly. ''Maybe I'll go out for a bit. Clear my head,'' he decided. Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed his invisibility cloak from the corner of his trunk that it was always stored in, then stormed down the stairs and out of the portrait hole.
''You can't run from me,'' The blasted Horcrux appeared again, the locket flaring up burning hot against Harry's skin.
''Yeah well, I can't really talk to you with everyone watching, okay? It would be very suspicious if I started renewing the silencing charms on my bed before everyone's definitely asleep again, and who knows when that'll be! I've wasted enough of tonight. I'm tired, and a mess, and… and… That really was damned insensitive of you,'' he finished lamely, anger fading away. Not having planned on going anywhere in particular, Harry sat down at the edge of the corridor, pulling the cloak tight around his body, uncovering only his head. - there were no portraits in this particular part of the castle that could see his disembodied head - Merlin, how he wished Barty was here now. Someone he could talk to who would understand what was going on. Someone who wasn't Voldemort, or a piece of the man.
The Horcrux stared down on him, green eyes looking slightly golden in the light of the wall torch nearby. Even that couldn't disguise the fact that there was nothing positive in its gaze. Merely a cold unfeelingness. ''So start talking now,'' it said.
Harry folded his arms over his own knees and plopped his head down on them. ''This isn't something that can be solved in a civil, logical conversation,'' he warned.
''Just get a grip on your emotions then!''
''I don't want to,'' he countered. ''Just because you deem logic to be the only proper way to view this world doesn't mean I have to abide by that. I feel things and it's good like that. I just have to… sort it out a bit now.'' Perhaps the Horcrux finally understood, or perhaps it was smart enough to interpret Harry's pleading look as a sign to stay silent now. In either case, it nodded curtly and sat down on the opposite wall of the rather narrow corridor, leaving about five feet between them.
It still wasn't quite enough, but after throwing the cloak over his head again, Harry couldn't see the Horcrux clearly through the fabric. That solution would have to do for now. Usually, dealing with bad situations involved locking himself up in a cupboard or room for days. He didn't have that time now, unfortunately.
Where to even start… All those memories, the little moments that he'd tried to ignore or interpreted incorrectly, now forced their way to the surface all at once, determined to be noticed. He recalled the conversation he'd had with Hermione before the Yule Ball. Well, he had an answer now… or did he? He was attracted to guys, that was something he could say with certainty after seeing all memories packed together like this. The realisation still felt off, as if it was a far-away idea. He'd been quite content on staying away from naming himself anything until he would have fallen in love with a person of either gender.
He felt that he didn't actually mind the fact that he felt attracted to guys so much as that all of his life. Maybe about a year ago, he would have because of all the negativity from the Dursleys about 'that sort of people' and the casual mocking remarks about gay people in the boy's dorms in 'good fun'. Now, he was bit older and after not only finding out that the Dark Lord himself liked men, but also reading all of Regulus' experiences and feelings, he was much more comfortable with the notion.
However… he'd imagined falling head over heels with that one perfect person when the moment came. This… this had nothing to do with love. He was attracted, sure… was that enough? It felt so bleak, especially knowing that the one he felt most attraction to -discounting brief peaks in Quidditch showers- was the one man he couldn't imagine ever being with. No matter Harry's feelings, Voldemort…
- He took a deep breath as he admitted once and for all to himself that yes, he had feelings for Voldemort –
Voldemort was an impossibility when it came to confessing, for so many more reasons than he could even count now. The man's aversion to attachment; the way their bond was vastly unequal, both having a teacher-student and a Lord-follower relationship; the massive age gap; the fact that nothing in the world would make Harry able to forget that this man still had the blood of Harry's parents and countless other innocents on his hands. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.
How messed up was it that despite all that, Harry only felt an aching in his chest when he tried to list all these logical reasons why it couldn't be, yearning that it wasn't so?
If only he'd never understood. Pushing each and every strange flare of emotion away had been a protection mechanism, he realised. Even subconsciously, he knew that Voldemort and he could never be, not in the way he wanted. To the Dark Lord, there were only two things in the world that mattered: himself and his task. There was nothing left for other people.
Or was there? Harry's thoughts went to Regulus' diaries again. Something must have happened. Even if it hadn't ended happily, it really had looked as if Voldemort had truly started to care for Sirius' younger brother.
''Are you done brooding yet?'' the Horcrux spoke, sounding highly annoyed. Harry withdrew the cloak from his head again and looked at the other.
''I'm fifteen, I'm never done brooding,'' he replied defensively. He turned a bit more serious when it raised a single eyebrow. ''Hey, when did you figure it out? That you, you know... are gay.'' He cringed a bit at stating it so bluntly.
''And why would you assume that I am?'' it asked in a slightly guarded tone.
''I know a thing or two about Voldemort, and unless your preferences suddenly changed, I'd assume them to be the same as his.''
The Horcrux took a moment to reply after studying Harry. ''I'm bisexual when it comes to attraction. However, as I never actually felt love or had a desire to start something permanent, it was easier to only date men. They're not so scornful as most women are when dropped. Especially not the ones who wanted to hide their nature.''
''So you never had a relationship?''
''That isn't what I said. But my main purpose was never the relationship itself. There was always something else that I wanted from the people I gave my attention to. You would be surprised by how quickly people surrender everything they own and are to another who dotes on them.''
Harry didn't know well how to respond. He didn't agree to using people like that, yet couldn't really blame Voldemort for not being able to feel love. Odd, in his previous stream of thoughts, he hadn't considered the Horcrux at all. It was also Voldemort in a way, and many of the obstacles he'd come up with didn't exist between them. The Horcrux was only a couple years older than he was, the power struggle went back-and forth instead of being completely in the Horcrux' hands and this version had never even seen Harry's parents.
In a twisted way, the words from before also encouraged him. If the Horcrux couldn't feel, and didn't care too much about things like emotions in relationships, surely it wouldn't mind… Slowly, Harry rose to his feet and stumbled forwards, eyes fixated on the Horcrux.
The young version of Voldemort… a piece of his soul. It held completely still as Harry crouched down in front of it and carefully placed his hands on the other's cheeks. It felt strange. While the Horcrux was rather solid, the edges still faded and Harry had to be careful not to touch the patches of skin that weren't entirely there. Having witnessed many memories of the Dark Lord now, Harry could really see how exactly this so handsome face had changed into Voldemort's serpentine one. They still had the same cheekbones, the same penetrating stare, the same deep dip at the temples.
''Voldemort,'' he whispered, lips an inch away from the other's. He let himself be drawn closer, a hand found its way into his messy black hair. They both held still then, two expectant gazes meeting.
''Harry, is this what you want?'' the Horcrux asked. The Gryffindor frowned. There was something about the question, no, the tone of voice, that threw him off. He tried to tell himself that it was nothing. This might be his only chance to settle all the new, confusing feelings that were whirling madly in his head. He needed comfort, for someone to tell him it was alright. He inched forwards until their lips met.
It felt wrong.
As soon as he'd touched those cold lips, Harry shot up again, staring at the Horcrux. There was nothing that he'd been expecting. No feeling of bliss, not even happiness. Only an uncomfortable coiling in his stomach. Harry swallowed heavily as his heart dropped. He'd succeeded completely in his attempts to painstakingly separate the Horcrux from Voldemort. It wasn't the same, and he felt dirty for even trying to somehow trick his own feelings by using the Horcrux. It wasn't fair, certainly not to the young Dark Lord who was merely giving him a stony look right now. It hadn't moved at all, hadn't even tried to reciprocate the awkward kiss. Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not right now.
''I'm sorry,'' he rasped, standing up and scrambling to get over to 'his' wall again. ''I shouldn't have.''
''I thought so,'' it bitterly spoke, getting to its feet as well. ''Your heart is reserved only for my older self, isn't it? Don't feel so bad about it, Harry. From what you've told me, I'm sure he can do more with your feelings than I ever could. I have no need for anything besides magic and life.'' Harry didn't answer, only wrapping his arms and cloak tighter around himself. ''Return to bed, Harry. Your barrier should be good enough to keep Snape out after a few more attempts. You need rest now. And so do I.'' It cocked its head, lips curling into an attractive smirk. ''A tip, though. Next time you kiss someone, don't do it with a Mandrake leaf in your mouth unless the other person likes grass or dark green tea. I'm not one of those people, I can assure you.''
It disappeared into thin air before Harry's eyes, returning to the locket. He walked back to the Gryffindor dorms alone, in silence and shame.
That night, Harry was very grateful for the Sleeping Draughts the Horcrux always made him take. He doubted he could have slept a wink if not for the potions, plus he really did not want to find himself in a dream with Voldemort for once. It was a good thing that there were a few months left at the very least until he'd have to face the man again. Until then, he had enough time to get over his own impossible feelings, surely…
The following day, after far too little rest, he made a decision that took all of his willpower: whatever he'd found out about himself was unimportant right now. He was done thinking about flaws and setbacks as he'd done all of his life. There was a horrible teacher in the school that he wanted to be rid of, Dumbledore kept breathing down his neck, he had to take his O.W.L.s this year, he tried to become an Animagus and wanted to start leading a Défense club. And those were only his main focus points among a hundred pieces of homework to complete and books to read. There was far too much on his plate to be thrown of right now by his discovery of being attracted to guys. It could wait for quieter times.
The Great Hall was abuzz at breakfast, which wasn't too strange considering it housed several hundred students, but the amount of noise was unusual for this early in morning. Most talking was commonly done at lunch or dinner, so Harry instantly asked Hermione what had everyone so excited once he sat down. Ron plopped down next to him a few seconds later to him, all muddy from Quidditch training, whereas Hermione had taken a seat opposite them.
''There's been news,'' she spoke, a tad grimly, and then looked over to the teacher's table. Umbridge was talking adamantly and with a beet-red face to Professor McGonagall, who seemed to have mastered not only the art of turning into a cat, but into a statue as well with how stony-faced she was. ''Our dear Professor doesn't like it. Here, try to not read it very openly, she's literally ripped the Prophet out of people's hands and burned it.'' Hermione's tone showed exactly how disapproving she was of burning anything that had written words on it.
Harry tried to inconspicuously take the Prophet she reached him under the table and read it while it lay in his lap so it wouldn't be so obvious what he was doing.
Hand of Magic reveals itself.
Only two months after the first words being spoken about the illegal slave trade in mainland Europe by Ms Fleur Delacour, Triwizard Tournament Champion, the underground operations are slowing to a halt. Before official authorities came to an agreement on a course of action, a vigilante group hunted down and dismantled many auction circles, freeing hundreds of Beings and Beasts from the bonds of slavery. This group, whom we learned identifies itself as 'The Hand of Magic' refused to speak to either the press or Ministries, and even failed to comply to a summons from the International Confederation of Wizards. That is, until today, when a spokesperson from the Hand of Magic -whose identity is being protected - came forward and contacted the press to spread a message and explain his group's actions.
'Our world has been in constant imbalance over the centuries. Wars, fluctuations in population, policies against certain types of magic… All that has contributed to the slow decline of our society, and mages squabble amongst ourselves to climb to the top, often overlooking one important fact: to have magic survive, we must unite. All who have been given magic should have the opportunity to use their given birth-right, including magical beast and beings. We have taken it upon ourselves to right these wrongs in the absence of a Lord of Magic here in Europe.'
The spokesperson refused to go into detail about further plans after eradicating creature slavery, only indicating they are far from done yet. The Ministries of Magic in various countries have issued a reward for anyone who can provide solid information on members of the 'Hand of Magic' as they are regarded as criminals due to their violent attacks and executions of assumed slavers.
Harry folded up the Prophet and handed it back to Hermione under the table. ''Sounds like they're doing good work,'' he said. By the way her eyes shone, it was clear that she wanted to discuss it. ''I'm glad that at least someone took action after Fleur told Mr Noctua what was going on.'' It felt strange to talk about Voldemort's pseudonym so casually after yesterday, but he couldn't let his friends know anything was up. Ron thankfully hadn't yet touched the topic of his 'nightmare' yet.
''They're not going about it the right way though. Why didn't they just publicise the names of those presumed guilty? There were public executions!''
''They're trying to help creatures, who probably won't be very happy if their former 'masters', all wizards and witches, are judged by a system that has systematically favoured magicians throughout history. Some names were made public, at the start, and what were the results? There have been very few trials and most ended in fines or a couple years in prison at most. The public opinion has not changed enough yet for the Ministry to stick out their necks and risk the gold of exactly those politicians or 'philanthropists' who are being accused.''
''I also think they deserve what they got,'' Ron threw in.
''So you agree to what this Hand of Magic is doing?'' Hermione asked in disapproval, looking at the both of them.
Harry nodded. ''Mostly. As soon as someone thinks it is okay to buy a sentient being as a slave to own, they deserve punishment, and I know that won't happen if there wouldn't be organisations like this that go around and enforce it. The governments stayed silent for the longest time, probably in the hopes of being able to ignore the whole issue altogether. Only when people took matters in their own hands, were they forced to react, make statements, arrest suspects etcetera.''
''Punishment yes… Death?'' Neville threw in, who had been silently listening to their conversation. ''It sounds so extreme. Sure, buying creatures and treating them like pets is bad but…''
''It's not just the owning, they didn't find a single creature that hadn't been mistreated. Even those who were physically relatively unscathed, have emotional scars. Separation from friends and family, isolation, hunger and cold from obedience training and so on. Some of them were used for force-breeding, by Merlin! It doesn't get any sicker than that. Anyone who condones that shouldn't ever be allowed in society again. Personally, I'd be for a life-sentence in Azkaban, but death might arguably be more effective and humane than being swarmed by dementors for the rest of one's life.''
''I don't know what to think about it…'' Hermione sighed. ''You're right in that it's better than nothing. I just wish it had attracted a less violent group. To me, it sounds as if this Hand of Magic is just using this as a publicity boost for their own image, to then push a more questionable agenda. They use the slogan 'to have magic survive, we must unite', in a positive way to explain why they are freeing creatures, right? What happens if they get people to agree to that idea and later use it to create an us versus them between a united magical population and Muggles instead? It sounds to me like only magic matters to them, and we've heard that before from the mouths of two Dark Lords in the past hundred years. 'Magic is Might' isn't so different from what they're shouting now, is it?''
''At least they don't seem to believe in You-Know-Who's return,'' Ron commented. ''If they claim to be acting to fill the gap of an absent Lord of Magic.''
''Not sure if that's positive or negative to be honest.''
''How so?''
Hermione lowered her voice and looked them in the eyes. ''It might mean that we have two groups of exclusory magicians roaming about.''
Harry couldn't really add more to her theory, which he obviously knew was incorrect. The knowledge that it was just one very large group would probably not have eased her mind anyway. The article did give him some food for thought: it was obvious that Voldemort very much wanted to distance himself from this, at least for now. The Hand of Magic had a very generalised name and operated in all of Europe instead of focusing on Britain. Moreover, they didn't only deny ties with Voldemort, they denied believing in the Dark Lord's return overall. They also didn't use any symbols or colours that could link to Voldemort either as far as Harry was aware. Even Dumbledore, who admittedly did often have a good guess of what was going on behind the scenes, wouldn't be able to come up with a solid enough theory that would link Voldemort to this apart from them having roughly the same base ideas about magic.
Not that the entire issue with the slave trade seemed to be much on Dumbledore's mind… He was far too obsessed with Voldemort's past for that now. Yesterday, Harry had been called to the man's office again, and been shown two memories: one of Caractacus Burke buying Slytherin's Locket from Merope and then Morfin Gaunt's memory of meeting Tom Riddle, when Voldemort stole the Peverell Ring before killing his father and grandparents in the Riddle House.
Harry was rather uneasy about how much Dumbledore circled closer and closer around the items that became Voldemort's Horcruxes. The Dark Lord had said that Dumbledore most likely suspected something after being able to examine the diary, but to have the Headmaster digging up so much more information about them was worrying. How much longer before Dumbledore would realise why Harry had such a strong connection to the Dark Lord?
At least there hadn't been any further moral talk, which he was grateful for. Each time Dumbledore tried to appease to Harry's sense of 'goodness', it only served as another reminder that the man didn't even trust him enough to speak of the Prophecy. One of these days, Harry feared that he would flip out and start shouting accusations.
He honestly didn't know what was better: Dumbledore focusing on Voldemort's past while clearly solidifying his theory about Horcruxes, or focusing on the current events and possibly seeing a connection with Voldemort's presumed inactivity and the actions of the Hand of Magic. It was like having to choose between Dragon Pox and Scrofungulus…
''Come on, we've got to go to class,'' Ron groaned, standing up and swinging his bag over his shoulder. ''At least it's just Charms. Did you get the Locomotion Charm down yet?''
Harry shook his head. ''Not completely. I manage to make items hover without a problem, but moving it in the right direction without making it crash into something at full force is difficult. I keep overpowering the spell.''
''You two just need a bit more practise,'' Hermione chimed in. ''Speaking of which, Scourgify,'' she spoke, pointing her wand at Ron's muddy robes and making a textbook-like smooth S-motion with steady hand. ''I doubt professor Flitwick would appreciate you bringing Quidditch practise into the classroom. Let's go.''
As soon as they were out of the Great Hall, Harry asked: ''Hey, why was Umbridge actually so mad about the article? I mean, they even seemed to condemn the actions of this vigilante group. It sounded as if they were on the Ministry's side.''
''Only because they have to if they don't want to get boycotted. It was already a scandal that they wrote about this issue in the first place without the Ministry's permission. There's usually heavy censure going on behind the scenes, I doubt Fudge and many Wizengamot members were happy with this can of worms being opened. As Umbridge hates Half-humans as she calls them, she is obviously against an organisation that strives for more rights and freedom for Creatures and Beings. As far as I could pick up, she is mostly angry about the fact that the identity of the spokesperson is being protected by the press that was in contact with this person. The Ministry basically put a 'wanted' sign on any people belonging to the Hand of Magic, yet the prophet is protecting them… You were right to trust this person who contacted you and Fleur. The press has changed much since Skeeter's disappearance. Was there ever news of where she went?''
He shrugged. ''Hear something about her moving to the States or something. No clue if that is true, those are only some rumours flying around.''
''Who knows,'' Ron chimed in. ''Good riddance is all I have to say. I'll never forgive her for that nasty article that she wrote about Harry!''
Quickly forgetting all thoughts about Rita Skeeter, they went about the rest of their day.
Time flew by again, filled as it was with lessons and an ever-growing pile of homework. Harry had been afraid that the Horcrux wouldn't show itself again after that kiss, but at the first sign of Harry struggling with the class material, it had been there, giving instructions in its usual cool tone. The Gryffindor couldn't deny a spark of joy at its appearance.
''You're forgetting something…'' it said. Harry had been sitting in the library with his friends, bent over a heap of opened books in a frantic attempt to find an interesting enough magical fungus for an upcoming Herbology project.
Harry hummed absentmindedly. It was his usual sign of 'I heard you but can't speak because of other people'.
''It's Wednesday, almost 7 'o clock in the evening. Snape reminded you this morning about the time of your Occlumency lesson. Do try to keep up with your schedule Harry, I do not enjoy being a personal alarm clock.''
''Oh fuck!'' he swore loudly. Almost instantly, Madam Pince came flying around the corner to berate him about the use of 'such language' in her library, and a couple of younger students giggled behind their hands. He ignored all of them while wildly packing his bag. ''Detention with Snape,'' he said, grimacing. His friends gave him a pitying look. He hadn't told them yet about what he was actually doing, still hoping that, if he performed well tonight, Snape would be forced to drop the lessons already.
''Ten points from Gryffindor for being late,'' Snape barked as Harry threw open the door of the potion master's office. ''And another five for not knocking.''
Harry gave a curt, mocking bow. ''Thank you very much, I'll tell Draco that I give him those fifteen points as a Christmas present,'' he spoke quippingly. Behind him, the Horcrux tried to suppress a chuckle, but Harry had already heard it and threw a smug look over his shoulder.
XxX
No sooner than Potter entered, a headache was already forming. ''Get in here,'' he hissed, slamming the door shut behind the bumbling Gryffindor with a flick of his wand. ''I don't have all evening to listen to your poor attempts at humour. Wipe that smirk off your face, Potter, if you will do as poorly today as you did the day before yesterday, you won't be laughing long.''
''I practised,'' the boy said with a slight pout. Severus frowned. If it wasn't for the boy's hair and skin colour, his face would have looked a lot like Lily's. Inwardly, he sighed, berating himself. He should keep a distance, professionalism. He'd tried to heed Lily's warning and not only see Potter as the boy's father's mirror image. It would be counterproductive to instead see Lily in him now.
''I'll hope for you that you did,'' he answered. Potter was already taking off the necklace that shielded his surface thoughts, playing it on the same shelf as last time. ''Legilimens,'' he sharply spoke as soon as the boy turned around and their gazes met. Although he could see that Potter reacted fast, he didn't expect any resistance, the boy didn't even hold his wand yet.
It was thus a shock when his own mind slammed into a thick, coiling and electrifying barrier of dark smoke that didn't budge in the slightest at his first attempts. Each time Severus tried to push against it, he received shocks of mental energy that deterred him. He probably could break through with force if he wanted to, he deduced after a few more moments. The barrier wasn't as thick as it had initially felt after examining it for a while. The longer he pushed, the weaker it became, draining Potter's energy fast. He had to make a decision: retreat to give feedback, or move on now he still had the advantage.
The part of him that had been a teacher for over a decade - a side he hardly listened to – said one thing. His inner Slytherin won. It was an absolutely insane and terrifying miracle that Potter, who'd barely been able to throw him out twice in several hours only two days ago, suddenly had mastered the Art of Occlumency to such an extent that even Severus had a hard time entering the boy's mind. If he left now, he might not get another chance to explore Potter's mind at all anymore. Keeping the knowledge in mind that he couldn't actively hurt his student because of that damned shield spell he'd been told about, Severus carefully looked for any weak spots, ignoring the strain on his own magic as it suffered heavily due to the barriers. Once he'd found one, he intensified the Legilimency spell just a tad with a flare of magic. It was enough.
Potter's mind had changed entirely, which was both fascinating and off-putting. Instead of jumping straight into a stream of memories, he found a rough mindscape. Albeit it had clearly been made by an amateur, the fact that Potter had been able to create a space in his mind in such little time was impressive. There was absolutely no way that the boy could make him believe to have done this all alone. Had this all been a test for Severus, set up by the Dark Lord, perhaps? Had he taught the boy Occlumency before after all?
He discarded the thought. Potter would never have let him see all of those childhood memories if it could have been prevented last time. Speaking of which, when he looked around and inspected the space further, he concluded that he might not see any of those anymore. Whatever had happened in this short time, Potter's mind was in utter disarray. Books were scattered everywhere through the room, a sign of a chaotic mind. He reached out for the first one that caught his eye, something that looked like a diary with ink bleeding from its heart.
''Don't!'' Severus whirled around and was met with Potter. He thought it was, at least. Mental images of oneself were always rather different from the real self. The boy was a lot smaller and thinner than usually, and the lightning scar was much larger. A rather realistic picture of a lightning flash with various branches reached across the entire right cheek, almost down to the boy's chin.
''Then stop me,'' he replied calmly. Potter predictably lunged for the book he'd been looking at, so instead he grabbed one off another table, of which the cover showed a picture of a stained-glass window that he recognised from somewhere. As soon as he opened it, he was in familiar territory again.
… The orange hue in the study at Malfoy Manor shifted as Voldemort dropped his shields for Harry, blissful magic crashing down on him. Arms caught him as he clung onto the man's robes… 'I'm not fucking addicted to you!' he yelled as he scrambled back from the embrace…
A tendril of dark smoke shot out and attacked Severus, who withdrew from the memory. He easily found another tunnel without returning to the room with books. Clearly, Potter didn't know how to properly set up a mindscape yet. He gave into his own curiosity. It was a promising start that the memory he'd seen had been about the Dark Lord. That was exactly what he wanted to find out some more information about.
… Harry practically flew down the stairs when he recognised Voldemort's voice. He'd come to the Dursleys of all places, personally, just to pick Harry up? He watched in satisfaction and happiness as the man intimidated his family…
Severus sped up his pace. It appeared that the Dark Lord was somehow tied into Potter's distress, as all surface memories were about the man. He was followed by Potter's magic, but it wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough. Severus dug his own mind deep into his student's. If this was the last glimpse he'd be able to get, he'd use the time well. The Dark Lord hadn't ordered him to teach Potter Occlumency for nothing so suddenly, and this was most definitely a clear indication that there was a good reason behind it.
… Drops of blood fell into a cauldron and Harry watched as Voldemort regained his form, unable to tear his eyes away from the newly formed, very naked body… They sat in the drawing room of Riddle manor on one of those many evenings where they'd run out of topics to talk about and read in silence instead. Magic and emotions filled the air, and Harry kept getting distracted by it, leaning ever closer to the Dark Lord until he realised he was almost curled into the other. Hastily, he avoided an amused gaze and buried his face in the book again…
A tendril grabbed hold of him and dragged him away from the memory. Severus turned and fled down another tunnel to avoid a large ball of crackling mental energy that was hurled his way. In a way, Potter had made it harder for himself to keep people out who were able to break through the initial barrier, by not regulating anything but the walls and that centre space. Still, he wouldn't be able to keep this up long anymore either. He needed to find clues, definite certainty of what was going on. He knew it had to do something to the Dark Lord, so he concentrated with all of his might to find memories within the past days that could have something to do with it. Images whirled past as he tried to avoid Potter's defensive mechanism.
… Harry stared down at Voldemort's pale face as the man slept peacefully next to him – not distressing enough to cause such a shift and far too early.
… Voldemort berated him about feeling unworthy in preparation of the shadow ritual – Still too early and not at Hogwarts besides that.
… Harry stared up at green-and red flecked eyes, feeling an absolute mess after the conclusions he's just come to - There, there was something!
Severus paused at the memory, looking at the two participants. One was Potter. And the other one… something was familiar about the young man, and he tried to let the memory fill in the gaps of his own knowledge.
… Harry stumbled forwards, hands resting on the other's cheeks. 'Voldemort,' he whispered, lips barely an inch away. He let himself be drawn closer, a hand found its way into messy black locks. They both held still, two expectant gazes meeting.
''No! Get OUT!'' Severus was flung away with more force than he ever thought Potter could possess, back into his own body. The memory was torn apart, but not before he'd seen Potter press his lips against the other. Remnants of information from what he had seen were still burned in him mind.
Voldemort. Soul-piece. Horcrux.
He sucked in deep breaths of air, the wind had been knocked out of him as the blast of magic from the boy had been so strong that it had shoved his body away too, into the wall. Fear shot in his throat as he caught sight of Potter. His student looked absolutely dishevelled, bright green eyes filled with wildness. A wand was pointed straight at Snape's heart.
He raised his hands carefully, there was no telling how far Potter would go in this state. ''Put down your wand,'' he ordered softly. ''Potter, put it away.''
''You had no right,'' the boy exclaimed, a tremble to his voice.
''I had every right. I am teaching you-''
''You could have retreated!'' Potter barked back, to which Severus stayed silent. It was true, there had been no value for the boy in staying so persistently. Doing so had purely been out of self-interest. He'd be damned if he was about to tell Potter that, and thought quickly what the best course of action would be to deescalate the situation.
''Who was that man?'' he demanded to know, suppressing a thin smile as Potter lost much of his aggression.
''You… don't know?'' The confusion was valid, Potter had clearly whispered the Dark Lord's name. Legilimency was fickle though, and it wasn't completely unbelievable to pretend he had only seen a brief glimpse of it instead of the whole scene.
Severus raised his eyebrows and did his best to act convincingly. ''He did not look like any student here at Hogwarts. As one of your teachers, I surely shouldn't need to remind you that smuggling in outsiders is strictly forbidden without permission.''
Potter tensed up, eyes shooting towards a spot on his right and back again. Severus narrowed his eyes slightly. Was something there? He thought there was a flickering in the air, a disturbance… Severus tried to control his breathing as he realised that this piece of soul might actually be here in the room right now.
''He is a student at Durmstrang. Was. We met last year during the Tournament through Viktor. I've never heard about visitors needing permission, Sir.''
The Potion Master let out a displeasing sound. ''Be sure that it doesn't happen again, or I will absolutely drain the Gryffindor house points if you invite strangers within these castle walls again. Especially if they're from Durmstrang, do you want Dumbledore to become even more suspicious?''
Potter didn't answer, instead walking over to the shelf to quickly put his necklace back on. ''I don't want to talk about it. You told me to learn Occlumency as quickly as possible so we could end these lessons fast. How do you deem my progress?''
''Adequate for now,'' he stiffly replied, to which Potter merely gave him a disbelieving look.
''I threw up a shield within a split second as you tried to catch me off-guard!''
''And then, it took you ages to throw me out once I had broken that barrier. Your enemies won't retreat easily at the first sign of resistance either, you stupid boy! That I granted you that leeway during our first lesson does not mean that I will do that again. You'll return here on Saturday.''
''It's Hogsmeade weekend!''
''Saturday, same time,'' he bit. ''Don't you talk back to me!''
''Fine!'' With one more foul look, Potter stormed out of the door, and Severus finally allowed his hands to tremble as he sat down in his office chair. From the drawer of his desk, he withdrew a calming potion. He had wanted to show it as the 'example potion' to his third-years tomorrow, but he needed it far more right now. They would just have to do preparations instead.
Right now, classes were the furthest thing on his mind. He needed to break down everything he'd seen with logic to wrap his head about it.
The Dark Lord had a Horcrux, that was the primal point of his focus now. For whatever the Dark Lord's intentions had been in ordering him to teach Potter Occlumency, Severus didn't think for a second that he would survive if his Lord found out that Severus knew the method behind the man's immortality. It was a secret that he would now have to bear without telling a single soul about it, lest it could be followed back to him. Thank Merlin that he had been able to fool Potter into believing that he was be unaware of who and what the young man had been. It was also a relief that information about Horcruxes was scarce enough that he could pretend to never have heard of them despite his interest in the Dark Arts. He now cursed the curiosity of his past self who had snuck into the Restricted Section to read references about the darkest magic he'd been able to find before Dumbledore had taken those books off the shelves.
Something else he had a hard time accepting as the truth was that the Horcrux was in the hands of an instable fifteen-year-old. Did the Dark Lord really trust Potter to such an extent as to hand over his soul? And if not, had the boy stolen it? Believing that a dunderhead like Potter had just run into the Horcrux of the most dangerous man alive by accident was preposterous, after all.
Severus buried his face in his hands and moaned in despair as that last flash of memory shot through his head again. Potter had kissed it, knowing full well that it was the Dark Lord. He stored that information somewhere far away in his own mind, so he wouldn't be forced to look at it again. Well, at least he now knew what was so wrong with Potter nowadays, and why the boy had suddenly shot from average to excelling in all of his classes. If he worked together with the Horcrux, he had access to a wealth of knowledge not many people would ever have.
The only dilemma now was… how was he going to tell the Dark Lord that he'd found something strange in Potter's mind without revealing anything that could make him lose his own head?
Ahh, it felt so good to finally come to the point where Harry stopped being so dense about his own feelings. Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did :P
There just don't seem to be very positive ways to realise you're gay (speaking from experience), but I do kind of feel for Harry
Please Read and Review!
xx Gemerope