A/N on 05-30-13: I'm in the process of changing all the single quotation marks into double ones. The next few chapters still have single quotation marks. I'll get to them soon, but I figured that time spend on writing would be better than time spend on the style of punctuation, as I hope you'll agree :).

Chapter 5

Total silence clung to the office for a long moment. Even the portraits on the walls stopped their fake snoring.

'He will take action to safeguard his other horcruxes.' Snape eventually spoke up.

Dumbledore nodded. 'Most likely he has done so already.'

'But that's…' Harry began.

'Disastrous.' Dumbledore finished his sentence. The Headmaster swiftly retook his seat behind the desk and Snape followed. Dumbledore's eyes locked on Harry's and he felt the full weight of his penetrating gaze. 'During your capture, while Voldemort analysed your magical signature, he may have strengthened the hold of his magic over you in order to gain excess to your thoughts.' Dumbledore spoke urgently. 'He cannot break the connection you two share, courtesy of unintentionally yielding a portion of his powers to you when you were a baby, but he may have reinforced it. That is why I must ask you to please allow me access to your mind, so that I can see what it is we are dealing with.'

Harry's blood ran icy. 'But then he must be watching right now!'

'Sit down Potter.'

Harry realised he had jumped out of his chair. He gazed down at Snape in horror. 'And you! You're doomed!'

Snape lips thinned at so much display of emotion. 'Calm yourself, Potter!' he spat. 'And Sit. Down.'

Harry felt all the energy leave him as he slumped back in his seat.

'If he had wanted to kill me he'd have done so already,' Snape drawled in a matter of fact tone, which conveyed he thought Harry exceptionally stupid not to have realised it.

'But you-'

Snape's eyes flashed in warning. 'You are not the center of the universe Potter, and as such the issue of my being in danger or not is not your concern!'

'Severus, please,' Dumbledore said. He looked back at Harry imploringly.

Harry clenched his teeth and met the Headmaster's gaze. 'Alright.'

He felt a gentle push and suddenly Dumbledore was in his mind, sifting through his memories. It was not hard to think of his visions now that a horrible dread filled him. Scenes came to life of powerful magic flowing from white fingers, of minions cowering before him and grotesque forms drenched in blood. After a minute or so the Headmaster gently extracted himself from Harry's thoughts. Dumbledore heaved a great sigh and retook his seat.

'I found no evidence of any additional strengthening of the bond in your mind, or any residual foreign magic.' He tapped the tips of his fingers together in a characteristic gesture.

Harry held his breath. 'You're sure…?'

'Yes Harry, I am very familiar with Voldemort's magical presence.' Harry's shoulders sagged and Dumbledore gave a reassuring smile. Addressing Snape as well he continued: 'So, the situation is not as disastrous as I feared. I considered it highly unlikely in any case. You see Harry, while he has access to your thoughts he likewise exposes himself to you, since the connection goes both ways. And that is very unlike Tom. The bad news here is that we don't know what has led him to check the Gaunt home and find the ring missing.'

The adults shared a look and Snape nodded to an unvoiced inquiry.

'But I can still experience his thoughts,' Harry put in.

'Yes, but only sporadically,' Dumbledore said. 'I suspect you are privy to them only a fraction of the time.'

Harry frowned. Why would Voldemort let him through at all? Unexpectedly Snape elaborated, ignoring Harry's presence all the while: 'The bond must have strengthened to such an extent that the Dark Lord is not capable of blocking when he is most… distressed. Only his ignorance of such a dangerous weakness can be an explanation for this being possible at all.'

Harry rubbed his forehead. Great, this Dark Lord broadcasting thing just kept getting better and better.

'Does this mean that when I feel strongly about something…'

'It seems a shame now, doesn't it Potter, that you couldn't be bothered to learn Occlumency when it was offered to you?' Snape smiled thinly.

Harry swallowed the dryness in his throat. Snape was right. Sirius. Your fault.

'I understand that now sir,' he said, and tried not to see Snape's smirk widen.

Dumbledore's gaze flickered between the two of them. 'Professor Snape is correct. Eventually he will know of this development when a profound emotions of yours slips through the shields. Which is why it is very important that your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape resume, Harry.' Dumbledore helpfully added.

That wiped the smirk of Snape's face.

'I am not going to attempt to teach that brat Occlumency again, Headmaster.' Snape's eyes were spitting fire at the headmaster.

You didn't even try to make me learn, Harry wanted to say. But in the end it didn't matter because Harry hadn't tried either, had he, and that was what counted. Snape was a cruel git, and that was precisely why Harry was at fault: he should've known how hard it was going to be with this man, and studied harder because of it.

A silent conversation was taking place between Snape and Dumbledore. Snape finally glanced away.

'Very well,' Snape ground out, and Harry knew it had taken something out of the man. Probably that something was the thin, nearly nonexistent rapport that had once existed between them.

When Snape's eyes found his own he saw only hatred.

888

A day later Harry was sure he 'd been deluding himself: that is to say, he now knew for certain that no understanding, however small, had ever been present between him and the Potion's Master Who Hated Him From The Beginning And Would For All Time.

It had been decided that in the training sessions Harry would also practice his Occlumency skills. Now the sallow-skinned man was sitting at the opposite end of the lone table, in the giant Room of Requirement, watching Harry.

Harry'd been shuffling his feet and carding his hair, but that had done nothing to change the statue-like regard he was getting. He decided to imitate Snape and sat frozen, only blinking his eyes.

And still Snape stared.

It was getting creepy.

'Legilimens'.

Harry jumped at the sudden change in their silent tableaux and a moment later felt the slam of Snape's powerful will on his thoughts. He tried to think of nothing but he might as well have imagined rainbow-coloured butterflies to ward off the Legilimens in front of him. Snape was inside his mind, seemingly consuming what was on offer. Images were flying past but he couldn't register them. It felt like too much blood was flooding his brain and the arteries would explode. Then one memory was pushed to the front, of him listening to Trelawney's voice in Dumbledore's office and the destruction of the headmaster's possessions.

'No…' Harry groaned. The pressure lifted. His surroundings were back and he felt the press of cold ancient stone against his cheek. Slowly he managed to find his feet. His shaking hands grabbed the chair and he lowered himself into it, not daring to look up.

'Potter'.

'Yes?' His head lifted of its own volition. Snape seemed to have sunk into an even deeper state of anger, the whites of his eyes clearly visible from a distance.

Silence fell over the hall. Then Snape again said:

'Legilimens.'

Harry thought fiercely of not allowing him through this time, which had been how he'd managed to ward off Snape last year. It was no use. Now Sirius was put on display and Snape took his time examining Harry's conversations with his godfather. Harry's stomach churned hotly at all that Snape was purview to. An image of Sirius was telling him: 'D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?' Another one looked at him coolly. 'You're a lot less like your father than I thought. The risk would've been what made it fun for James.'

Afterwards he was aware of the wet feeling on his cheeks. He set his jaw and straightened in his seat.

'Tsk tsk, no need for crying Potter, these are happy memories,' Snape said, his eyes gleaming.

'Don't,' Harry pleaded, and hated himself. 'You've won, alright?' he croaked. Scraping his throat he tried again: 'I was irresponsible and it's my fault that Sirius is dead. I know, alright?'

'What do I care that you 'know', Potter? What does the wizarding world care?'

'They care nothing,' Harry bit out. 'They only want me to be their weapon.'

Snape nodded, pleased. 'Very good, Potter. You are their weapon-'

'And don't you think it's unwise that you know the Prophecy now?' Harry cut in.

'Don't talk back to me,' Snape said in a low voice. 'As I was saying, you are their weapon and are therefore trained for an optimal performance, or as close as we are likely to get with the material available.'

Snape let that disparaging comment sink in before continuing: 'There is a bit of a problem here. Since we both know you will never learn Occlumency, I am not going to waste any more time on it, -' Harry opened his mouth but Snape went on '-no matter what the Headmaster says, I expect you'll agree that the endeavour is useless?'

Harry clamped his mouth closed again.

'Well then, we will continue the training in the Dark Arts. You may of course peruse the library and any questions you have on the subject you may ask.' Snape raised an eyebrow. 'But since you haven't bothered before…'

Harry felt himself flush red and clenched his hands in his lap. 'What do you want from me?' he asked, exasperated.

'That is where you misunderstand me. I want nothing from you Potter, nothing,' Snape hissed. 'But apparently, we cannot all get what we want, can we.'

Snape stood at that and gestured Harry to the middle of the great platform. Harry followed him with his fingers clammy around his wand.

That session Snape rode Harry harder than ever. Over the course of training the curses and hexes had gotten nastier and nastier; since Harry's tuning – adjusting shield to curse – had not yet progressed at the same rate as the level of spells, many got through and found something to damage. Snape also changed his attack in unexpected ways, sometimes throwing in a lower-class hex, sometimes switching to charms or transfigurations, conjuring creatures and sharp objects. No time at all passed before Harry was exhausted, but the Potion's Master kept at it until he could barely get on his feet for the next spell. When Snape finally stopped Harry's breathing was heavy and black spots had entered his vision. Snape seemed not to have broken a sweat.

'Next time seventh and eight chapter of Emerging the Victor. Go,' was all he said.

888

The library had eight books eluding to the subject, and two that had the mind magics as the main focus. Hermione was flashing her Restricted Section pass in front of Madame Pince while Harry stared at the grotesque pictures in Magicks of the Mind.

When performing Occlumency, insanity was right around the corner, apparently.

'So Snape has agreed to teach you again? Hermione asked on the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

'Yeah. He said that I first had to read up on the subject before he'd try again though,' That was kind of the truth.

'Sounds like Snape. Maybe I can help with revising?'

'Thanks Hermione,' Harry smiled. With her help maybe he could still learn something at least. He tried hard to hold onto his hope: that when he'd learned all there was to learn he could ask him again, and then maybe the Potion's Master would concede to teaching him. Or maybe baby unicorns would decide to start frolicking around Snape, Harry thought, while Hermione recited the password for the common room.

'Oi mate!' Ron yelled when they emerged from the portrait hole. 'Where were you yesterday?'

Harry blinked up at his friend.

'We waited for half an hour! And then when you still didn't show we finally decided to train without you.'

Harry closed his eyes briefly. Quidditch practice. With all that had happened after his latest foray into Voldemort's mind he'd forgotten all about it, when, being the team captain, he himself had scheduled the practice for that morning.

'I'm sorry Ron.'

Ron nodded briskly. 'You're sorry. Well, sorry wasn't much use when we were waiting in the cold for our captain to show up!'

Conversation in the common room stumbled to a halt.

Hermione pulled at Ron's robes. 'Come on Ron, not here.' Grumbling all the while, Ron let himself be lead to their dormitory. He bounced on his bed and crossed his arms. 'Well?'

'Look Ron, something happened last night. I… had a vision again.' Ron gaped and Harry winced.

'You didn't wake me?'

'Well, it was kind of urgent-'

' So urgent you couldn't be bothered to tell me?' Ron said.

'Ron,' Harry tried for calm. 'I didn't tell Hermione either, I went straight to Dumbledore's office.'

'Of course. And did you two straighten it out?' Ron asked in a petulant voice.

'No we didn't. He knows, Ron. Voldemort knows about our plans for his horcruxes.'

Hermione gasped at that. 'No…,' she whispered.

Ron's face had slackened. 'Shit,' he said.

'Yeah,' Harry nodded. 'My thoughts exactly.' He lowered himself onto his bed opposite Ron's and folded his knees below him.

'Knows it from you?' Ron asked, gesturing to Harry's scar.

'No, and that's another problem. We don't know how he knows.'

Hermione perched on a window ledge between them. 'What will Dumbledore do now?'

'Well he's checked if Voldemort's in my mind right now,' (Ron's head jerked up at that) 'but he couldn't find any trace of him. Which is a huge comfort,' Harry chuckled darkly.

'So, Voldemort is going to get all his Horcruxes back, I guess?' Ron said.

'I think so.'

'What does Professor Dumbledore say Harry?' Hermione put in.

'He didn't say anything more about it. I guess he'll leave his personal speculations between him and Snape.' Harry said sourly.

'Well, Snape is in a good position to check it out of course.'

'Yeah, I suppose,' Harry grumbled. He was left out of the important discussions again. But maybe it was for the better. He was becoming a reliability, that much he could see for himself. He would listen to the adults this time. Not listening was getting people killed.

He felt a hand on his back and Hermione spoke softly next to him. 'Harry, we are here for you. The Order knows what they're facing this time, they're prepared for anything.'

'Very reassuring Herm,' Ron said. Hermione punched his arm.

Harry looked warily over at Ron but his frown was worried. If only they could be having their fight about Quidditch, Harry thought, instead of comforting each other over an upcoming war.

888

The Vernal Equinox Ball was rapidly approaching and Harry, trying on his dress robes in front of the full-length mirror in the dormitories, saw the length fell an inch short. Seamus rummaging in his trunk behind him, looked up and chuckled.

'Let me guess, Slughorns' party?'

Harry nodded. 'Well one inch isn't going to be noticed. You're going too?'

'Nah, I'm not invited. Let me see.' Seamus turned to inspect Harry's outfit. 'You always need to stay on top of fashion Harry, being the chosen one and all.'

Harry punched him on the arm. 'Cut that out, I'm not going to buy new ones'.

'Who said anything about buying? I got a whole collection here, just rotting away. Let's see,' Seamus began unceremoniously unloading his trunk, taking out all kinds of odds and ends in the process. 'Here you go, I've got you some lovely black ones-,' Seamus held up aristocratic-looking robes with a hundred buttons at the front, 'or mysterious dark-greens, goes great with your eyes, or this dashing blue one, certain to win the attention of the ladies-,' He stopped at Harry's questioning look.

'Me mom sends them every year, expects me to win a competition or something.' Seamus explained, shaking his head at the thought.

Harry decided to go along with the kind gesture. 'Okay… well the black one seems nice.'

Seamus held said garment up in front of Harry, then switched with the green one. 'Nah, you should take this one, goes great with yer eyes.'

Harry gave an eye roll at that. 'Hm. Hey, it's got snakes all over it! Does your mom thing you're a Slytherin or something?'

Seamus laughed. 'Well she thinks that's were the power is, so it doesn't hurt to suck up to it.'

'That's…'

'I know, I know,' Seamus gestured soothingly, 'just take it, alright?'

'Okay,' Harry looked from the dress robes to his friend. 'Thanks man.'

'No problemo, make the Slytherins panick a bit, hm?'

Harry threw the robes over his bedside. 'Sure, I'll throw in a bit of Parseltongue for the heck of it.'

Chuckling, they made their way down to the next class.

888

Friday afternoon. Spirits were soaring in anticipation of the Equinox Ball which would commence in a matter of hours. Or at least some spirits were: Harry took one look at Ron sitting down next to him in their last class of the day (Charms) and knew that his friends spirits were rather plunging into a nose-dive.

'You know it's just going to be some boring officials listening to their own voices,' Hermione whispered, sitting down next to Ron.

'And firewhiskey and delicious snacks and everyone all fancy-like,' Ron muttered back.

'Ron, I'll sneak out some food alright?' Harry put in. 'Last time we couldn't wait to get away, with all the Slytherins sucking up to Slughorn's buddies,'.

Ron looked like he hadn't heard. 'S'pose you're taking McLaggen again huh?'

Hermione frowned. 'Of course not! Look Ron, he was an a–'

'Everyone put their paper on the desk? Good, we'll be starting with colour-based charms today,' Flitwick was saying, and Hermione made a spurt to the front of the class with her copy.

'Ron-'

But Ron just shook his head. As Flitwick started the lecture Harry imagined he heard a grumble at his right with something along the lines of 'to think that I almost died in his office...'

Things were a little tense after that between Ron and Hermione. Nothing Harry hadn't seen before of course, and he decided to drop the issue for now.

888

'Harry, Harry, you made it!' Slughorn emerged from out of nowhere at his first steps from the entrance to shake his hand, reminding Harry of Lockhart as well as Slughorns' last Christmas party. With one arm around his back the sizable man led him through several smaller rooms to the main dancing area.

This part of the castle seemed to have turned into a garden overnight: white rose tangles were twirling around the large support pillars and flowers of all colours graced the small round side tables. People were bowed over in conversation with their forearms on the deep blue tablecloth. Most were holding glasses of what looked like champagne.

Apparently fitting his newly borrowed dress robes had made him late: the party was in full swing, with couples chancing elaborate moves on the gleaming dark wooden floor. The crowd consisted of mostly upper years of all houses. The adults stood in clusters on the other side of the ballroom floor. Slughorn deftly guided him through the crowd on the sidelines towards the back where wizards and witches in expansive dress robes were mingling. Harry looked around for a friendly face (fortunately no partners were obligatory this time) but Hermione and Ginny where nowhere in sight.

'So Harry,' Slughorn began, shoving a glass of punch into his hand, 'Our soon-to-be Auror eh?' he winked. 'I have some people here I'd like you to meet.' He stirred Harry towards a group of mostly wizards who were looking around rather than drinking or talking. 'You already know Kingsley of course,' Shacklebolt nodded to Harry, who nodded back. 'Gramzar Rospam, who leads one of the Auror teams' Slughorn went on, gesturing to a man of Indian-like descent.

'An honour to meet you Mr. Potter,' Rospam said in a low tone as Harry shook his hand.

'And here we have Armando Moore,' Slughorn rambled out another Auror position. Harry took the next hand on offer and that was when it happened: a feeling of aversion swept over him so strong it was akin to hate. Harry gazed up into the face of a black-haired men with sunken cheeks who looked like he hadn't eaten well in months. The hand enclosing his held fast. Harry tried not to give anything away of the horrible feeling that the man was giving off.

'Mr. Potter, a pleasure,' the man said in an airy tone.

'Thank you,' Harry managed, trying to pull his hand back without anyone noticing. But the wizard folded his other hand over Harry's and smiled, indifferent. 'Please tell me if this is too forward,' he began, taking a step closer while Slughorn was engaged in conversation behind them. 'But the relationship between Albus Dumbledore and you has always fascinated me. Would you care to share, what exactly is the essence of the bond between you?'

'Ehm,' an indefinable panic was taking up residence in Harry's stomach and he tried to extricate his hand again, a little firmer this time. Moore tightened his hold and Harry cried out, managing to turn it into a strange high cough. The man's eyes which were studying his intently, suddenly widened – nearly unnoticeable but for the small distance between them.

'You were saying?' Moore went on, all the while cutting of circulation under his overlarge sleeves.

'I-, I'm-, sir could you please stop squeezing my hand?' The edge of his vision showed him that they had somehow managed to stray away from the crowd.

A strange little smile skirted over the wizard's face. 'I've also wondered about your relationship with that other powerful wizard,' he whispered, sounding a little out of breath.

This was a Death Eater, Harry was certain. It wasn't what he was saying that made him sure, but the sickly feeling against his skin, which had gotten stronger the moment Moore's left hand moved over Harry's. The underside of the man's left upper arm felt cold against Harry's fingertips - the exact same spot where the Dark Mark would be…

The man's nostrils flared and he removed his hand, clenching the left one into a fist against his side.

Moore's eyes held incredulity as he said: 'See you around, Mr. Potter.'

He turned and walked away in a brisk pace. Harry stared after him. It was almost like… like he had done something to the man to stop the conversation. Like Harry had activated the Dark Mark.

His heart was trampling against his ribcage. No. That couldn't be it, right? Harry contemplated the scene from seconds ago: the sudden tightening of the muscles, the unconscious urge to conceal the arm...

He'd seen that reaction before. When Voldemort called through the Dark Mark. The screams would turn especially shrill when the spidery fingers touched the skull symbol - the Mark would become visible and then slowly start to blacken…

'Harry? You all right?'

'Hm?' Ginny stood next to him in a sparkling yellow dress, looking lovely out of place in a sea of blue and black. 'Yeah, sure.'

Ginny followed his gaze. 'Who is that man?'

'Armando Moore. You know him?'

Ginny shook her head. 'Come on, Slytherins are coming this way.' She tugged on his dress robes.

A cold feeling rushed his chest as realisation struck, making him stumble a pace. A Death Eater. There was a Death Eater in the Auror Department.

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