To his great surprise, Holly was two minutes early.
She knocked twice, then entered soaking wet, a trail of water dripping from the tip of the broom over her shoulder, a bag slung over her other arm. He stood still in the darkness, watching her blink and look around his office.
"Shut the door behind you, Miss Potter." He spoke from the darkness, his voice somewhat hoarse with disuse.
She jumped at the sound, turning quickly to close the heavy door behind her and making hundreds of potions and specimens jars containing many different forms of animals and plants, clink in unison.
When she moved closer, Severus could see her lips were bluish-white, her knee pads' clasps loosened a peg after practice and her close-fitting, sand-coloured flying breeches stained by grass. He noticed a large, muddy handprint on one buttock as she took off her waterlogged Quidditch cloak embroidered with large golden letters on the back. Her wild hair, matted flat to her head by the rain, was looking as neglected as ever. He could see she attempted to fix it up a bit, but there was no taming it without magic.
Holly was a fifth-year now, tall and thin, the top of her head almost reaching his shoulder. Her hand-knitted emerald jumper, with a yellow H on the front, was sitting so tight over her chest, Severus assumed that she must have gotten it for Christmas the year before the last. He could just imagine boys falling over their feet trying to get her to notice them now.
Lily was fifth year when we . . . separated.
If he had not removed his Worst Memory in preparation for this lesson, Severus would have known why he felt a seemingly random rush of hate for the late James Potter just then.
In reaction to the hateful glow brought by thinking of his own fifth year, annoyance shot up like a weed in the back of his mind. As always, she sought to remind him constantly of James. He also found himself wondering exactly whose handprint that was, imagining a strutting Gryffindor teen groping at her after Quidditch practice.
He rolled his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose, folding his arms tightly as he watched her kick her bag into the corner with the muddiest boots to have ever dared enter the Potion Master's office.
She turned back to face the room, her bright green eyes immediately finding the Pensieve at the far end of the room. Severus moved into the light and pointed silently at the chair opposite his desk.
Holly and Severus both sat down silently. He fixed his eyes unblinkingly upon her.
Holly's face was lit by the candelabra on his desk and she met his gaze briefly as she was now struggling out of her dragonhide flying gloves, tipping the water trapped inside onto the dungeon floor like a trickle of gnome piss.
Seeing his brows dropping ever lower in annoyance, Holly flashed Severus the special smile she seemed to reserve just for him – a kind of sheepish grin you would surely give someone you suspected could see your nastiest thoughts as if written on parchment.
She whipped out her wand from her tight, damp trousers and pointed at the pool of water that gathered beneath her chair.
"Evanesco." She said loudly.
The puddle vanished.
"If you are quite done, Miss Potter." Severus snapped, he could visualize his patience wearing thinner.
She sat up straighter and touched her wand to her brow in a light-hearted salute.
"This may not be an ordinary class, Miss Potter," said Severus, his eyes narrowing malevolently, "but I am still your teacher and you will, therefore, call me 'sir' or 'Professor' at all times."
"Yes . . . sir," said Holly.
"Well, you know why you are here," he said. "The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency."
"Right," said Holly.
As silence fell for a moment, a wicked rumbling groan resounded through his office. Her stomach seemed to be the origin.
"Skipping dinner for Quidditch practise?" he asked in a bored tone, lifting his brows questioningly.
She started shrugging in reply, and he cast a nonverbal Accio, sliding a box of Sugar Mice across his desk toward her with a long-fingered, pale hand.
"It was a gift," he offered as explanation, "and I don't like liquorice."
She hesitated.
"We haven't got all night, Potter. We still need to get a team of house-elves to clean down here after you're done with the dungeons."
She rolled her eyes and uncrossed her legs in a very unladylike manner, scooting forward to grab hold the box and tear inside the colourful wax paper wrappers. She broke eye contact to rummage around for a fat mouse with an acceptable layer of sugar dusting and met his eyes as she stuck it head-first into her mouth. Considering its size, he was surprised.
Is this a challenge?
Before long, Holly stuck another mouse in her mouth. She started shaking her wet hair loose and running it through with one claw-like hand, combing it with her fingers and wringing water from the lengths whilst chewing happily on the mouse.
He could smell her flowery shampoo, heavy with cinnamon and lemon that reminded him of something he couldn't put his finger on. She watched him through her lashes as she worked her hair back into a wet bun.
"Careful Potter, you know what they say about witches who sit like wizards –" his black eyes fell to her lap for a split second before meeting her eyes again. He regretted it instantly.
The material of her Quidditch breeches was stretched tightly over her sex, showing the outline of her mound beneath the seam of her trousers.
She crossed her legs on the chair again, making him wonder how strangled his expression must have been to motivate another change of position. She rested her elbows on the ankles of her muddy boots, sliding her hand sweetly under her chin.
"I only know you like to look, Professor." She blushed pink but kept his gaze, her eyes sparkling with juvenile delight.
This must be a joke.
"You flatter yourself, Princess. I prefer older witches." He set his face in a death mask, giving nought away.
She feigned a yawn and laughed. A light tinkling of bells he knew from boyhood. He wanted to smile.
Lily.
She shrugged again, "I don't mind. It's like a compliment. I trust you. Sir."
At a loss for words, he cleared his throat, the idea of a smile fading as quickly as it came. He opened his mouth to strike out but Holly interrupted his sarcastic retort.
"How'd you like my new glasses, Professor?" She asked quickly, pointing up her nose at the pair of thin, golden round frames, with a too-long fingernail.
She probably perceived his awkward silence as a good opportunity to change the topic.
The spectacles certainly were better than the worn pair she had before. He could see more of her face now that the frames were finer and the glass free of scratches.
"It seems to be within the prescribed school uniform regulations, your nails, however – show me your hands – "
She held out her hands with a huff.
He read I must not tell lies scarred into the back of one of her hands, but he decided to ask about it later.
"– must be clipped as to not exceed the fingertip, Miss Potter."
He looked sternly down at her, his arms still folded tightly over his chest, hands tucked under his arms.
Lily would not like to see how neglected her daughter is . . .
She nodded and shoved her hands under her armpits too, miming his body language and making him uncomfortably self-aware.
The corner of his mouth twitched impatiently and, with slow deliberation and unbroken eye contact, he loosened his stance again and laid his palms on the table.
"Now. Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen, is a branch of magic that seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence."
"And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?" Holly asks, looking him square in the eyes.
Severus looked back at her for a baffled moment and then said more contemptuously than he meant to; "Surely you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency —"
"What's that? Sir?"
"It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind —"
"He can read minds?" said Holly quickly, her worst fears seemed to be confirmed.
"You have no subtlety, Miss Potter," said Severus, his dark eyes glittering.
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"Only Muggles talk of 'mind reading.' The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter. Or at least, most minds are. . . ." He smirked.
"It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."
"So he could know what we're thinking right now, Sir?"
"The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them," Severus took a quick breath. "Time and space matter in magic, Miss Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency."
"Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?" Her voice was quieter now, leading him to conclude that she was, at least a little, afraid.
Severus eyed Holly, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so.
"The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Miss Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable — when you are asleep, for instance — you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord."
Holly started fidgeting with the sleeve of her jumper. She looked up at him with renewed confusion.
"But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop it?" she asked. "I don't like it much, but it's been useful, hasn't it? I mean." She struggled for a moment, "I saw that snake attack Mr Weasley and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save him, would he? Sir?"
Severus stared at the girl for a few moments, still tracing his mouth with his finger.
When he spoke again, it was slowly and deliberately, as he was weighing every word.
"It appears that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now, it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions and sharing his thoughts without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas —"
"The one with the snake and Mr Weasley?"
"Do not interrupt me, Potter," his voice held a dangerous tone.
"As I was saying . . . the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord's thoughts —"
"I saw inside the snake's head, not his!"
"I thought I just told you not to interrupt me, Potter?"
She had moved forward in her chair so that, seemingly without realizing it, she was perched on the very edge, tense as though poised for flight.
"How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?"
"Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" spat Severus, his blood pressure spiking.
There was a long, nasty silence.
They glared at each other across the Pensieve.
"Professor Dumbledore says his name," said Holly quietly.
"Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard," Severus muttered. "While he may feel secure enough to use the name, the rest of us . . ."
He rubbed his left forearm unconsciously on the spot where the Dark Mark is burned into his skin.
"I just wanted to know," Holly began again, forcing her voice back to politeness, "why —"
"You seem to have visited the snake's mind because that was where the Dark Lord was at that particular moment," snarled Severus. "He was probably possessing the snake at the time and so you dreamed you were inside it too."
"And Vol — he — realized I was there?"
"It seems so," Severus answered coolly.
"How do you know?" Holly voice filled with urgency. "Is this just Professor Dumbledore guessing, or —?"
"I told you," he said, rigid in his chair again, his eyes slits, "to call me 'sir.'"
"Yes, sir," said Holly impatiently, "but how do you know —?"
"It is enough that we know," said Severus repressively. "The important point is that the Dark Lord is now aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts and feelings. He has also deduced that the process is likely to work in reverse; that is to say, he has realized that he might be able to access your thoughts and feelings in return —"
"And he might try and make me do things?" asked Holly. "Sir?" she asked hurriedly.
"He might," he said, trying to sound cold and unconcerned.
"Which brings us back to Occlumency."
Severus pulled out his wand from an inside pocket of his robes, making Holly tense in her chair, but he merely raised it to his temple and placed its tip into the roots of his hair again. When he withdrew it, a silvery substance came away, stretching from temple to wand like a thick gossamer strand. It broke as he pulled the wand away and fell gracefully into the Pensieve, where it swirled into the silvery-white that was neither gas nor liquid. Twice more Severus raised the wand to his temple and deposited the silvery substance into the stone basin.
Without any explanation, he picked up the Pensieve carefully, removing it from between them. After placing it on a shelf to the side, he returned to face Holly, his wand held at the ready.
"Stand up and take out your wand, Miss Potter."
Holly got to her feet, clearly feeling nervous. They faced each other over the desk.
"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," Severus could not deny that he was feeling a bit of excitement at the prospect of looking into her mind.
He focused on controlling his breathing.
"And what are you going to do?" Holly asked, eyeing Severus's wand apprehensively.
"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," his voice was soft, but not gentle.
"We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this."
For a moment they just stared at each other.
"Brace yourself, now. . . Legilimens!"
Severus struck before Holly was ready, he watched through her eyes as the office vanished, image after image racing through her mind like a flickering film . . .
She was a little girl of four or five, watching a fat boy riding a new red bicycle, and her heart was bursting with jealousy. . . She was about nine, and a bulldog was chasing her up a tree and there was a family of muggles laughing below on the lawn. . . She was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling her she would do well in Slytherin. . . She was in his classroom, Slytherins giggling and pointing at her after Severus mockingly called her a celebrity and christening her 'Princess Potter' in her first potions class. . . Granger was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick bushy hair. . . A hundred dementors were closing in on Holly beside the dark lake. . . A boy with dark hair was drawing nearer to her under a bushel of mistletoe. . . He felt her shy away from his invasion as soon as the boy came up and he prompted for more, testing her resistance. Severus recognized him as Chang, a Ravenclaw peer.
No! yelled a voice in Holly's head, as the memory of Chang drew closer. She let out a yelp as she fell to the floor, one of her knees had collided painfully with the leg of Severus's desk.
She was looking up at him where he had lowered his wand and was now rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark.
"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" His eyes were cold and his face pensive.
"No," Holly could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. She got up quickly, trying to hold her composure.
"I thought not," said Severus contemptuously. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."
"Did you see everything I saw?" Holly asked, sounding unsure whether she wanted to hear the answer or not.
"Flashes of it," said Severus, his lip curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"
"My Aunt Marge," Holly muttered, hatred shining in her green eyes.
He didn't care that she hated him now, this lesson was for her own good.
"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," he was already raising his wand again. He wasn't sure if she understood this as the compliment it was meant as.
"You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."
"I'm trying," said Holly angrily, "but you're not telling me how!"
"Manners, Miss Potter," said Severus dangerously.
"Now, I want you to close your eyes."
Holly threw him an exasperated look before doing as she was told. She did not seem to like the idea of standing with her eyes shut while her opponent faced her, carrying a wand.
Good girl.
"Clear your mind and let go of all emotion." He said after a moment of her obedience. Her fists shook and she bit her lip.
But Holly's frustration at Severus's attack continued to befuddle her brain.
"You're not doing it, Miss Potter. You will need more discipline than this. Focus, now. . ."
Holly frowned, clearly trying to empty her mind, but it isn't as easy for her as it was for him.
"Let's go again, on the count of three . . . one — two — three — Legilimens!"
A great black dragon was rearing in front of her. . . Lily and her James was waving at her out of an enchanted mirror. . . Cedric Diggory was lying on the ground with blank eyes staring. . .
"NOOOOOOO!" She was on her knees again, her face buried in her hands.
"Get up!" Severus said sharply, "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"
Holly stood up again, her face ashen.
Severus also felt paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Holly was.
"I — am — making — an — effort," she said through clenched teeth.
"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!"
"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment," Holly snarled.
"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" Severus knew it was harsh, but it was true.
"Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Holly!"
"I am not weak," Severus had never heard Holly's voice like that. She was trembling with rage.
"Then prove it! Master yourself!" he spat.
"Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now!
Legilimens!"
He saw a man hammering a letterbox shut. . . . A hundred dementors were drifting across the lake in the grounds toward her. . . . She was laying on an altar covered with runes in a white linen dress. She was running along a windowless passage with Arthur Weasley. . . They were drawing nearer to the plain black door at the end of the corridor. . . Holly expected to go through it . . . but Weasley led her off to the left, down a flight of stone steps. . . .
"I KNOW! I KNOW!" She was on all fours again on Severus Snape's office floor, her scar standing out against her pale skin, but the voice that had just issued from her mouth was triumphant.
She pushed herself up again to find Severus staring at her, his wand still in the air. Severus had lifted the spell before Holly had even tried to fight back, he was perplexed by the unnaturally clear image he saw of her on an altar and equally by the memory of what looked like the corridor in the Department of Mysteries.
Impossible.
"What happened then, Holly?" he asked, eyeing her intently.
"I saw — I remembered," Holly's panting filled the room, clearly, she was distracted. "I've just realized . . ."
"Realized what?" His voice was still sharp.
Holly did not answer at once, instead, she rubbed her forehead before her eyes found Severus again.
"What's in the Department of Mysteries?" She asked.
"What did you say?" Severus asked quietly and saw Holly watching him closely for a reaction. His suspicions were confirmed, but he could not stop his nostrils flaring or his eyes widening.
"I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, sir?" Holly said, looking satisfied.
Indeed. The Dark Lord is in her mind already, what is His plan?
"And why," said Severus slowly, "would you ask such a thing?"
"Because," said Holly, still watching him, "that corridor I've just seen — I've been dreaming about it for months — I've just recognized it — it leads to the Department of Mysteries . . . and I think Voldemort wants something from —"
"I have told you not to say the Dark Lord's name!" He spat as if burned by something hot.
She's been dreaming under His influence for months already! He wants the prophecy, of course, but there's more to it.
They glared at each other, his mind racing.
Something's off.
Holly's scar clearly hurt again, because she moved a hand up to cover her forehead like a wound. When he spoke again he tried hard to not sound as though he was acting cool and unconcerned.
"There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Miss Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you, do I make myself plain?"
"Yes," Holly said, still rubbing her scar.
Liar.
She was still sitting on his office floor. Severus stepped closer, offering her a hand.
She took it without thinking and he felt his Dark Mark suddenly burn like a Summon as soon as she touched his hand.
He pulled her onto her feet quickly and drew his hand away with a frown, looking down at her.
"Sir?" She had noticed his discomfort as he clutched his forearm, confused. The sensation had gone as soon as she let go of him.
Only the Dark Lord has the power to summon Death Eaters . . .
"It's nothing." He said, trying to be gentle but failing. Severus stuffed his affected hand in a pocket.
But a summoning burns much longer . . . What on earth was going on here?
"And the altar?" He asked, weighing his disordered questions and going with the one that bothered him the most.
"What altar?" She replied, genuinely mystified.
He narrowed his eyes, boring into her mind for truth.
"Just now." He hissed impatiently. "You . . . don't remember?"
She shook her head, looking at him like he'd gone a bit mad. Hundreds of little red flags sprouted and started waving frantically all over his brain.
"I want you back here same time on Wednesday, and we will continue work then."
"Okay," piped Holly.
"You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep — empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?"
"Yes," but she barely seemed to be listening. Her face was white as a sheet and she looked a bit feverish. Her scar seemed to be more noticeable than usual.
"And be warned, Holly . . . I shall know if you have not practised. . ." He trailed off, watching her closely.
"Right," Holly mumbled.
"I have something for you," he said, picking up a book from his desk. He held it out to her and said:
"Homework."
She took the book with pursed lips and turned it around to read the weathered title, her hands shivering.
Occlumency and Legilimency for the Novice by Nicolaus Borage.
Holly opened the first pages automatically, quickly finding what she was looking for.
"Severus T. Snape." She glanced up at him. "What's the T for, sir?"
He opened his mouth and closed it again.
"Try asking me again Wednesday, Princess."
"I'll start guessing." She smiled despite looking like she just got off a week-long voyage at sea. The ghost of a smile hovered over his lips.
"You are welcome to take the Sugar Mice with you." he turned away, desperate to meditate on what he had learned and equally annoyed at her habit of disarming him with a well-timed smile.
After picking up her schoolbag, broom and other possessions, Holly opened the door.
He could feel, and hear, her pausing to look back at him.
His back was still to her, while he scooped his own thoughts out of the Pensieve with the tip of his wand and replaced them carefully inside his head.
"Goodnight, sir." She said to his back.
Holly left without another word, closing the door carefully behind her.
A/N Dearest friends, I'd like to apologize for the tardy update. These last two chapters were half-written and waiting in limbo until some kind-hearted reviewers came along and softened my heart into putting them up . . .
P.S. I think girls work harder in school (compared to most boys) so that's part of my reasoning for a more studious Holly.
Let me know your thoughts and a big THANK YOU to everyone who took time to write a comment, follow and favourite!