I think I hadn't truly realized it was 23 chapters since the last time Harry was our POV. Well, he returns, along with longer chapters. Lots of things are going to happen.

Harry begins to learn Occlumency... and different memories emerge.

But again, some things never change.

HARRY XL

The morning of their first day of school after the winter holidays proved to be quite miserable for Harry. He dreaded his Occlumency lessons with Snape the moment he woke up. The fact he had Double Potions in the morning did not make things any better. Umbridge's presence in the Great Hall at breakfast only made it worse. And when they arrived at the Gryffindor table, Seamus and Dean stopped talking right away, Seamus ignoring Harry totally. He guessed they must be talking about his episode the night before he left Hogwarts two weeks ago.

"Hi, Harry," Dean said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he retorted, probably too hard.

Nothing could improve his mood since he woke up. Even his mother was absent from the staff table. She was probably late in her work, because of the threat Mr Weasley faced. She must be working in her office. He looked around, searching for a face whose sight would make him feel better, but Susan was nowhere to be seen either.

"We're going to end the day well," Hermione tried to say encouragingly. "Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Evans." Hermione now got the habit of calling her this way since she was a teacher.

"Hermione, which year are we in?" Ron asked.

"Our fifth," she replied, bemused.

"With our O.W.L.s approaching, do you really think a day can end well with any course? The only good way for a day to end is if we have Quidditch practice and we happen to have no homework to do afterwards in the evening." Ron then shook his head. "Would you mind helping me to organize? I need it to preserve my mental state."

Harry was surprised Ron was asking Hermione to help him plan his homework, rather than to ask for help to do his homework. Hermione looked slightly surprised as well, though pleased at the same time. It was true that Ron had a better mood. His father just got out of the hospital yesterday, fully healed.

"Don't forget to use your planner," Hermione proposed.

Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Hermione really didn't say the right thing. Referring to a shouting planner was not to make Ron feel enthused, as it was plain to see by his expression. Ron had clearly liked Harry's gift for Christmas way better than what Hermione had given to both he and Harry. The collection of famous Marvel comic books Harry gave to Ron may not have moving images, but it didn't shout at you when you didn't work right away.

"I apologize, Hermione," Harry told her, "but if I fall asleep in History of Magic and your planner complains about it, he goes straight to the garbage can."

Hermione seemed offended by this. Perhaps it was Harry who lacked tact this time.

"Ron, you just picked my toast," she complained.

"Eh?"

Ron had been looking towards the entrance of the Great Hall, where Ginny just walked in, hand in hand with Michael Corner. He showed his displeasure whenever the two were together.

"Ron, you have to accept that your sister is free to see whoever she wants," Hermione reminded him on a dark tone, snatching the toast from his hand.

"I accept it. I only wish they didn't show it that publicly," he complained.

"You didn't seem to care much about public display of affection when you dated Hannah."

Ron didn't seem to enjoy the reminder of his failed relationship anymore than Hermione enjoyed reminding him.

"Talking about Hufflepuff," Ron said, turning his attention to Harry, "have you decided whether you would tell Susan about your dreams?"

Harry shot an angry glare at Ron. He wasn't supposed to discuss this in Hermione's presence. At least, he got the intelligence to whisper.

"What?" Hermione said, surprised, staring at Ron then at Harry. "I thought we agreed on that."

"I didn't agree to anything, Hermione," Harry protested, whispering like his two friends. "You said what you thought, but I never agreed with you that Susan shouldn't know."

Hermione rolled her eyes in a clear sign of exasperation. "Harry! Dumbledore wants you to stop having those visions. And I don't think this is a good idea to let more people know that you have them."

"On that, I agree with Hermione," Ron said. "I mean, I don't know for you, but if I had those visions and a girlfriend, I wouldn't tell her. This would be a good plan to make her think I'm a freak."

Harry looked away. He hadn't told Susan about his visions. He told her a few things about the Order during the first term, or at least he let her guess those things, but she wasn't as well informed as Ron and Hermione. Her aunt was a high official in the Ministry, after all. He felt like he had to keep a few things for himself. So after Mr Weasley's attack, he didn't tell the truth to Susan. Well, not the whole truth. He told her they were woken up in the middle of the night with the news that Ron's father was gravely injured, that he followed the Weasleys to London while they waited for news about their father, and that his mother had also secretly prepared to spend winter holidays in London with him. But he didn't tell her about where he actually spent the holidays (he couldn't anyway, because of the Fidelius Charm), and he didn't write about his visions either.

"That is not the issue," Hermione protested, outraged. "Only, Harry is not even supposed to have these visions. So the sooner he gets rid of them, the better. And the fewer know about this, the better it is too. We shouldn't embark someone else into this."

A part of Harry agreed with Hermione. He didn't want to get Susan involved further. He still felt responsible and guilty over the Dementors' attack. Not to mention the risk she could share the information with her aunt. Harry was ashamed of not trusting her, but this wasn't even one of the main reasons of his reticence. Because Ron was right, a part of him was also afraid of her reaction. How would she react if she learned that Harry had a mental link to the man responsible for the slaughter of nearly half her family? At the same time, he felt bad for not telling her the whole truth. Especially after the episode of the Black Lake and the Dementors in London, Harry felt he owed the truth to his girlfriend. But would she still be his girlfriend if he told her the whole truth?

"I won't tell her," Harry finally croaked. The decision was easy to take, but harder to accept.

"Good call," Ron said.

"That's the right decision," Hermione supported.

Despite his friends' support, Harry went through a horrible morning. Binns was as boring as ever in History of Magic, and the double Potions class they got after this was insufferable. He was relieved but also close to despair as they headed towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"Look at things from the bright side," Ron tried to cheer him up, though he didn't look in any better mood after two horrendous classes. "You don't have Divination."

They headed to the Gryffindor table, where they filled their plates with sandwiches. At least, Harry noticed that all students from their year looked in quite a sour mood. Their teachers only needed a single morning after two weeks of vacation to make them feel the weight of the O.W.L.s on their shoulders. There was a bright side though to this free period. Susan was at the Hufflepuff table, and she accompanied Harry to their class of Ancient Runes.

"How were your last days of vacation?" she asked him.

"Nice." Apart from Snape's announcement he would give him additional classes. "Ron's father left the hospital yesterday. He's fully healed." He didn't have time to write to Susan about this.

"This is good news," she said with a smile. Harry then noticed she looked very tired.

"Where were you this morning? I didn't see you at breakfast."

"I wasn't there. I woke up late. I barely slept last night."

"I'm sorry. What happened?"

"I had an argument with my parents right before I left." She looked pretty miserable saying this.

"What happened?" he asked again, concerned.

Susan looked at her watch. "I can't tell you. Not now. I wouldn't have enough time." She looked at him, forcing herself to smile. "If you want, I can tell you after the day is over."

This crushed Harry's mood. "I can't. I've got remedial Potions." He literally spat the last words.

"Remedial Potions?" Susan asked, astonished. If there had been one person he wished to tell the truth so she wouldn't think less of him, it was Susan. "Snape never gives any. Does he really want to make your life impossible?"

Harry couldn't refrain from laughing a little. He was glad that this was Susan's reaction. "Probably. Who knows?"

"How long do you think it will take?"

"No idea." He was sincere on this.

"You don't think he's going to hold you for the whole evening, don't you?"

"I hope not, but who knows with Snape? Hopefully, he'll get tired of me and let me go early."

They arrived in the classroom and sat next to each other.

"Come and see me once you're done with Snape," she asked him.

"Okay. I'll do what I can."

The lesson in Ancient Runes was tiring. Like always, the hands of all students were numb when they left the classroom. Then there was Defence Against the Dark Arts. The subject, already Harry's favorite since his third year and the one he excelled the most at, was a liberation of some kind at the end of the day. Unfortunately, he had to say goodbye to her mother's lesson too quickly. After dinner, he reluctantly headed for the dungeons.

When Harry walked into Snape's office, he was met by the unwelcoming sights of darkness, jars with animal bits and, oddly enough, a stone basin engraved with rune symbols, very bright. It was probably the only bright thing in the office.

"Shut the door behind you, Potter," Snape ordered him from the shadows. Harry obeyed. "You know why you are here. The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than at Potions."

Harry should have guessed it. Only a few seconds inside his office and Snape was already insulting him. But he promised his mother to work to master Occlumency. It was true that she used very good arguments. Harry just wished it wasn't Snape who taught him. But he would make an effort.

"I'll try," he said.

"Trying will not be sufficient," retorted Snape. "And although this is not an ordinary class, Potter, I am still your teacher. You will therefore call me sir or Professor at all times."

"Yes… sir," Harry said.

"Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen, with your mother present, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence."

"I know."

"Sir," Snape insisted.

"Yes, sir," Harry repeated, exasperated.

"It's better. Now, Occlumency is the opposite of Legilimency, which is the ability of extracting feelings and memories from another person's mind. It so happens that the Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency."

"Yes, I know." Harry was not dumb. And his mother told him a little about these two branches of magic and what Dumbledore feared Voldemort could do by entering his mind. "He can read minds."

Snape smiled without kindness. "You have no subtlety, Potter. You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker." Harry refrained himself from lashing at Snape. "Only Muggles talk of mind-reading. The mind is not a book."

He went on to explain to Harry, with a few more insults, how Legilimency was different, but to be honest, Harry didn't see the difference.

"Normally, the Dark Lord should not be able to know what you're thinking without establishing eye contact. But the usual rules do not seem to apply to you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord."

"And that's why I can see what he's doing when I'm sleeping?" Harry asked.

"It seems that when your mind is relaxed and vulnerable, you can share the thoughts and feelings of the Dark Lord. Your mother certainly already told you, but the Headmaster believes it is unadvisable for this to continue. He wishes that you learn how to close your mind to the Dark Lord, and he wishes that I teach you."

It was clear Snape had no joy in teaching Harry anymore than Harry had any joy in learning from him. But he had already discussed about it with his mother, and also with Ron and Hermione yesterday. He would have to try, or else Voldemort could enter his mind. And although Harry was glad he could see Mr Weasley's attack and warn Dumbledore about it, he didn't wish for Voldemort to enter his mind and see through his eyes the same way Harry did the opposite. Voldemort could already see all his movements in Hogwarts thanks to the Marauder's Map. Harry still cursed himself from time to time for giving it to Crouch Junior last year. It was already unsettling to know that Voldemort could spy on all his movements while he was at school, so the idea of him entering Harry's mind was even worse.

"Fine," Harry said. "So, what should I do? How do I learn to close my mind?"

Snape pulled his wand from his robes. Harry was afraid for a moment, but he didn't cast a spell on him. Instead, Snape raised it to his own head. A silver substance came out of his temple, and he put it back into the stone basin. The light coming from it seemed similar to whatever Snape was taking out of his head. He took away three silver bands from his mind or whatever it came from, and he made the basin levitate away, out of reach.

"Stand up and take out your wand, Potter," he ordered.

Harry stood up. Snape was pointing his wand at him now. What was going to happen? Did learning Occlumency mean that Snape would submit him to some kind of charm? Would they have to literally duel?

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," Snape further said. So they would duel? Harry was petrified. He didn't know what to do. Snape ignored his confusion and went on. "I am about to attempt to break into your mind." This time, Harry truly feared the worst. Was having Snape into his mind any better than Voldemort? "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. Brace yourself now."

Harry still didn't know what to do.

"Legilimens!"

In an instant, Harry was brought into a flurry of images from his past. Only, he didn't only see images from his past. He actually lived them.

He was six, kicking balls into a football net… He was eleven, visiting a zoo where a snake talked to him… He was eight, running along a track… He was ten, flying at high speed under the gaze of his mother who yelled at him to go slower… He was twelve, in the infirmary, laughing with everyone about Smurfs… He was nine, reading a Spider-Man comic… He was thirteen, playing Exploding Snap… He was five, in a bath, completely without…

The office rematerialized. Snape had an expression of disgust plain on his face. "You made no effort," he declared.

"You didn't give me time to prepare. You didn't even tell me what I should do," Harry protested.

"You forgot to call me sir."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, making no effort to hide the scorn in his voice.

"Although it was a poor attempt, for you let me go quite deep, there are a few things you managed to keep hidden."

"Wait. Did you see everything I saw?"

"Flashes of it. Believe me, the Dark Lord would have seen much more. Now, close your eyes."

Harry did as Snape told him, though he didn't like closing his eyes with Snape pointing a wand at him. "Clear your mind, Potter. Let go of all emotion…"

It was easy to say. How could he let go of his emotions when Snape was standing in front of him, looking at every opportunity to mock him, and furthermore pointing his wand at Harry?

"Let go of your emotions!" Snape further ordered. It wasn't on this tone that he would encourage Harry to succeed. Harry still tried to empty his mind. He tried to remember when he resisted the Imperius Curse. He hadn't been the only one. Even Susan somehow managed to succeed. There had to be a way to do it again.

"One… Two… Three… Legilimens!"

The countdown ruined every attempt Harry had made to close his mind.

He was eleven, with the Sorting Hat on his head… He was several years younger, in the cemetery of Godric's Hollow, talking with a little girl with short red hair… Dobby was giving him Gillyweed for the Second Task… He was plunging into an icy lake… He was standing on a beach in summer… He was playing Quidditch against Revanclaw, Cho always blocking him… He was in the boy's washroom, watching Parvati vomiting… He was back home, in London, and he was kissing Parvati…

No, you're not watching this!

Harry felt a sharp pain and woke up lying on the floor. He had collided against Snape's desk, hence the reason for his pain. Snape, on his side, was rubbing his arm.

"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" he asked, obviously containing his anger.

"No," Harry replied, standing up.

"I thought not. You let me go too far again, although you could obviously prepare, this time. You lost time and energy shouting. You should repel me with your brain. This way, you wouldn't need to use your wand."

Harry rubbed his head. How much did Snape see this time? He wasn't entirely sure, but the memory he had of Parvati… They had gone quite far in this particular memory. He hoped that he stopped it in time, before Snape could see too much.

"I'm trying, but you're not telling me how… sir," Harry added at the end.

"Clear your mind and let go of all emotion," Snape ordered.

"And how do I do it?"

"If you need further instructions, then the Dark Lord will find you to be an easy prey. Close your eyes and your mind, now. That's an order!"

Harry was boiling inside. He closed his eyes.

"Legilimens!"

Again, he had no time to prepare… He was sitting in front of the Wizengamot, in a chair with chains… He was watching Peter Pettigrew, chained to that same chair… He was in the Great Hall again, with the Sorting Hat on his head… He heard the words the Sorting Hat uttered years ago.

Not Slytherin? Are you sure? You have many talents. You could be great. I can see it in your mind. And Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness. No doubt about that…

He was sitting in Dumbledore's office, a sword in front of him.

It is not our abilities that show what we truly are. It is our choices.

He was in the middle of a labyrinth, facing Cedric, his leg badly injured, the Triwizard Cup not far away.

You should have gotten more points on the second task. You stayed behind to get all the hostages. I should have done that.

He was tied down and gagged in the middle of a cemetery, with Moody towering over him.

I must admit… I'm kind of proud of you, Potter. I know. This is disgusting. That I would be proud of Harry Potter?! But I am. I taught you for a whole year. I got to see who you were. And first, I wasn't impressed at all. I simply couldn't get how you managed to defeat my master. But then I saw something. Something many people probably don't see under your scar and your fame. A talent. Power. A potential like we only meet in very few wizards. You resisted an Unforgivable Curse. You were the best student in my class. In all my classes, in fact. You could produce a Patronus. You have a will like I rarely saw in my life. This is what got you through the Triwizard Tournament despite not wanting to participate to it. This is what allowed you to win this Tournament. Despite all the efforts you did to hinder yourself, you won. There's even a part of myself that can't stop to think that… you could have won the Tournament without my help.

Through the bars of a bed, he watched his mother lying on the floor of a chamber, covered by blood and cuts. A tall figure in dark pointed his wand at her.

I only said I wouldn't kill you, not that I wouldn't hurt you so much you would wish you were dead. Crucio!

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

He heard a loud crash, and Harry found himself on his knees, back in Snape's office… with Snape lying in a heap of broken jars and shelves. Before Harry could react and as he started to wonder if he was the one who cast a spell that threw Snape against the wall, all the objects flew away and Snape stood up, furious.

"You're allowing me access to the worst memories you fear! Handing me weapons!"

He grabbed Harry by the collar and tackled him against the wall. Harry suffocated for a moment as Snape stared at him, his face contorted by rage. Then Snape abruptly let him go. Harry fell hard on the floor, coughing.

"You are weak!" Snape shouted at him. "Fools who wear their hearts on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily… You stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"

Harry was too weak to retort right now. Between the suffocating and the image of his mother being tortured he just witnessed, there was nothing he could do or say for the time being.

"Tonight's lesson is over," Snape said softly, with the same darkness as always. "I'll see you again at the same hour on Wednesday. We will continue to work then. In the meantime, you will rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep. Empty it and make it blank and calm," he ordered. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry replied, his voice hoarse.

"And be warned, Potter," Snape went on, hard. "I shall know if you have not practiced. Now go!"

Harry left without being prayed for. To be honest, Harry didn't care much about what just happened with Snape. He didn't care for his inability to close his mind. He didn't even care that Snape got to see glimpses of his memories. He only cared about the one last memory he saw, and that was why he wanted to get away as far away from Snape as quickly as possible. With Dementors, he only heard voices. Now, he saw clear as day what had happened on that night his father died. He witnessed consciously, for the first time, how his mother was tortured while Voldemort was preparing to kill him.

Harry headed for the library. He walked mechanically. His legs carried him unconsciously as he kept thinking about everything he saw. His mother never gave him details on what happened that night. Harry never really tried to get them from her either. He saw how traumatic this was for her. But sometimes, he still wondered what exactly went on. Now he had a better idea.

The library was full of fifth and seventh-year students working late. Harry noticed Ron and Hermione in a corner. Neither of them looked up when he walked in. They were probably too deep into their homework, and it was just as well. Harry didn't want to spend time with them right now. He wished to be alone.

Harry found an isolated corner where there seemed to be no one else. He got a piece of parchment to start his homework in History of Magic. But he didn't have his mind available for work. It was all consumed by what he just saw. He knew Snape was horrible, but to the point that he would put Harry through hardships similar to what Dementors did… Not to mention that he felt like his head was about to split, probably a result of what Snape did tonight.

"Harry."

He closed his eyes. He knew this voice, and although he was always glad to hear it, now wasn't the time.

"Is everything all right?" Susan asked him as she sat next to him. He finally opened his eyes and looked at her. From her reaction, he guessed he must look horrible. "You look like you've seen a Dementor."

This wasn't to make him feel any better, bringing him back to the Dementors' attack in London. "Snape," he uttered.

"It was that bad?" Susan asked.

"Worse."

Susan seemed to be at a loss of words for a while. She had not attached her hair tonight, unlike this afternoon.

"He wants me to see him again Wednesday," he muttered.

Susan looked more than afraid. "Harry… If he really makes your life unbearable, perhaps you should talk to Professor McGonagall and tell her. She could help you, surely."

"McGonagall won't help me," he replied on a dark tone.

"If Snape is mistreating you, yes, she will. She may respect her colleagues, but I don't see her or Dumbledore tolerating…"

"It's Dumbledore who ordered Snape to give me those lessons!" Harry snapped.

Susan was speechless. Harry regretted saying the words immediately. He wasn't supposed to tell. And Mrs Pince may have heard him and come to chase them both out of the library.

"Dumbledore… asked Snape to give you remedial lessons in Potions?" Susan asked, bewildered. For a moment, Harry feared the worst. "He's really crazy!"

This caught him off guard. Of all the reactions he feared, this wasn't one of them. He thought Susan would suspect something, but instead… She believed that Dumbledore actually instructed remedial Potions for Harry…

All stood still for a moment…

Then Harry uncontrollably burst into laughs. Susan looked even more dumbfounded by his reaction. And in an instant, Mrs Pince was on them.

"No laughter in the library!" she ordered.

Harry forced himself to stop laughing. Despite this, it took a lot of efforts from Susan to get Mrs Pince's attention away from him, and to convince the librarian to let them work in the library. She finally left, and by then, Harry almost managed to manage his laughter. The absurdity of the comment had made him forget for a moment the memory that occupied his mind. Susan rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"I don't see what is funny in all that," Susan said, way serious. "If this was really all Dumbledore's idea, then he's really…"

"No, please, don't say it again," Harry stopped her, refraining to laugh. "Or else, we will have to deal with Mrs Pince again. And maybe you're right…" Harry muffled another laugh. "Maybe Dumbledore is really crazy."

Susan sighed. "I wished I could find things as funny as you do."

Harry stopped another laugh. This one was very difficult to stop, for he no longer felt things were funny. Instead, he felt jubilating, happier than he had been in a very long time, as if something wonderful had happened. And it was accompanied by a searing pain through his scar, so searing that he felt like his head would split in two. He brought both his hands to his forehead.

"Harry? Harry?"

As fast as it had arrived, it left. He was back in the library. For a moment, he had the impression that he was somewhere else. Susan was looking at him, more distressed this time.

"I'm okay. I'm sorry. I feel tired. Can we begin to work? I have homework in every subject, as always."

He tried to divert the subject, but Susan wouldn't let him free with this. "That was your scar, isn't it?"

Although Harry didn't tell Susan everything, she knew enough to be aware of Harry's scar posing problems from time to time. "Yes," he recognized. "I think I'm just tired."

He was trying to minimize the problem, but it was obvious it didn't work.

"Harry, I'm really worried. Maybe you should go and rest."

"No. I need to work." He couldn't waste an evening not working. He thought how ironically Hermione would be proud of him right now. "We've got too much to do."

"True. What do they all have, burying us under homework?" Susan muttered in complaint. "Still, what did Snape do to you?"

"Nothing," he replied. "I'm only tired. You don't want to take additional lessons with Snape, believe me."

Susan sighed. "On that, I have no trouble believing you. Okay, let's get to work."

Susan didn't seem satisfied with Harry's explanation for his scar, but she seemed to reluctantly accept to change subject. Harry was afraid it wasn't the last time he heard of it.

They spent the next hours in their homework. He had the impression that the last lesson that wasn't accompanied by homework was the first class his mother gave them, on the first day of the schoolyear. Though there had also been McGonagall right before their Quidditch game against Slytherin. Neither of them broached the subject of Snape's lessons or Harry's scar again. A sort of uneasy normalcy settled between the two as parchments on History of Magic, essays on Potions, translations in Ancient Runes and exercises in Defence Against the Dark Arts followed each other on the table they shared alone. It wasn't helped by the fact Harry's scar kept itching and he fought to not rub it. He also felt tired from Snape's successes at entering his mind. Susan also looked at him worryingly from time to time.

At around nine o'clock, they had no choice but to leave the library. Harry's head was really hurting.

"You should go to bed right away," Susan said before they departed.

"Good advice. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Have a good night."

They kissed before they parted ways, heading towards their respective common rooms.

"So, how did it go with Snape?" Ron asked after Harry reached him and Hermione heading for the Gryffindor Tower.

"Horrible," Harry replied.

He went on to tell them how the lesson actually took place. It was liberating to tell them what actually happened, instead of hiding the truth away from Susan. Though he didn't tell them everything either. For example, he didn't tell them all the memories that resurfaced. He never mentioned the one where his mother was tortured by Voldemort under his eyes when he was a baby. And he also didn't mention the memory concerning Parvati.

Harry had to admit that a part of him was wondering why he didn't see any memory concerning Susan while he was with Snape. He had flashbacks of Cho, and even about Parvati, but not about Susan. He found himself truly hoping that Snape didn't see too much of the memory with Parvati. No one was aware, not even Ron and Hermione, and especially not Susan, but if they learned details about the short relationship Harry had with Parvati… how far he went with the Gryffindor girl of his year… Harry preferred to not imagine how various people such as his mother, his friends or his girlfriend would react.

Anyway, this was a secondary matter, and Ron and Hermione didn't seem to realize he wasn't telling them entirely everything. Instead, they were outraged when Harry told them about the moment Snape almost strangled him.

"He really went nuts this time!" Ron almost shouted.

"Harry, you should tell Dumbledore. You cannot let Snape try to kill you," Hermione said.

"Dumbledore has other things to worry about," Harry replied flatly.

"What do you mean, other things to worry about?"

"He's the one who decided it was Snape who would teach me Occlumency. So I doubt he would put an end to this after only one single lesson."

"But he wouldn't let Snape strangle you."

"That's not important, anyway, there's something else I have to tell you. My scar hurt while I was in the library. It hurt really bad."

He told them what he felt when it happened, providing all possible details. His two friends looked very worried at the news. But it was Hermione's reaction that stood out the most.

"But… Harry… you're not supposed to… your Occlumency lessons are meant to close your mind and avoid this kind of thing," she said on an outraged tone.

"What?" Harry rebuked, outraged as well. "You believe I purposefully felt that? That I wanted this to happen?"

Hermione looked ashamed immediately. "No… I mean… That's not what I meant… I just meant… Snape's lessons were supposed to help… I thought that kind of things wouldn't happen…"

"Well, to be honest, Snape's first lesson exhausted me. I didn't feel like my mind was particularly stronger after that, quite the opposite," Harry retorted angrily.

"Well, I expect anyone would feel shaky if they had their mind attacked over and over again," Hermione said, not without sympathy, but right now Harry wasn't in a state to care much about it.

"Do you think Snape could purposefully weaken Harry's mind?" Ron proposed. "To make it easier for You-Know-Who to enter?"

"Snape is on our side, Ron," Hermione opposed.

"Well, he's not giving that impression. Only one lesson, and Harry is getting vibes of You-Know-Who's feelings maybe an hour later. Not to mention the strangling how Harry looks pale."

"Maybe he needs time. Occlumency is a complicated branch of Magic. We cannot expect it to work on the first attempt."

"Well," Harry intervened, in a sour mood, "if the second and third lessons with Snape go the same way as today, Voldemort will have no mind to pierce because I'll be dead. Anyway, I'm wondering why Voldemort felt so happy tonight."

The rest of the journey to Gryffindor Tower was spent speculating on that subject. Harry went to bed right away when he arrived, ignoring the tests Fred and George seemed to be conducting with an invisibility hat. Harry was so exhausted from his Occlumency lesson with Snape that he fell asleep the moment he collapsed in his bed, without the opportunity to further reflect on Voldemort's happiness, and even less to exercise like Snape ordered. At least, his sleep was dreamless this time.

Harry learned why Voldemort was so happy in the morning, as he was approaching the Great Hall for breakfast. It was Susan who almost jumped at him, terrorized, before he even set foot in the Great Hall.

"Hey, have you heard the news?" she asked them, nearly panicking.

"No," Harry, Ron and Hermione replied together.

She handed them a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Eleven large photos were spread on the front page.

Lily being alive failed to change Fudge's mind. The massive escape still happens.

The following chapters will show more details about this mass breakout.

Please review.

Next chapter: Severus