Harry, before he could put his plan into action, had what could only be described as a 'complication'—one of colossal proportions.

He had Occlumency with Snape. Or, as Harry preferred to call it, several hours of mental torture in which Snape forcefully invades his mind and mocks him throughout the entire process. But even in his own head, that sounded rather long, so he had to settle for the abbreviated version.

Occlumency with Snape. In his mind, it already seemed to doom his plan before it even began. But Hermione seemed convinced that he would manage.

"Harry, I'm sure it'll be fine. You have a certain talent for accomplishing the impossible, and you always perform your best under pressure. I trust that you'll manage this time as well." She had said encouragingly. Easy for her to say—she didn't have to deal with the bat of the dungeons rummaging through her head.

Not wanting to snap at his best friend, who meant well, he pressed his lips together and said nothing. But from the sympathetic look Ron shot him, Harry knew that at least he shared his concerns.

Sure, he had studied the theory, and yes, he had already managed to push Snape out of his mind when he had really needed to. But he wasn't sure if that would be enough.

He would try again what he had done last time.

Surely, the fact that he really didn't want to ruin everything was incentive enough.

And yet, as he descended into the dungeons, Harry couldn't help but wonder whether that would be enough.

A shiver of anticipation ran through him. Despite the fear tightening around his chest, he felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

It was with a racing heart that he stepped through the doorway to Snape's office that evening.

Only to find the man already there, waiting. Watching him like a hawk, wand in plain sight.

There was no pretence tonight. Snape wasn't sitting at his desk, correcting essays, or doing anything else as he had always done before.

He was simply there, staring at Harry, as if he already knew something was going on.

His expression was clear: I know you're up to something, and I will get to the bottom of it.

Shit.

For a brief moment, Harry glanced at the door—the urge to run was overwhelming.

But before he could even begin to formulate an escape plan, Snape's wand moved with a sharp flick, eliminating that possibility at once.

"Very well, Potter, we are here tonight to attempt, once again, to instil the subtle art of Occlumency into your thick skull. I remain unconvinced that you possess the skill or capability to master it, but given the delicate situation we find ourselves in, it is imperative that you learn."

Snape wasted no time with pleasantries, and Harry merely nodded, too tense to do anything else—or to snap back at the insult as he normally would.

He stood there, stock still, facing Snape head-on.

If he couldn't avoid this, then he would face it with his head held high—like a true Gryffindor.

He mentally prepared himself, gathering all his determination, and withdrew into himself, just as he had learned to do during his years with the Dursleys whenever something happened that he refused to let touch him.

He put everything he had into it, trying to recreate that same state, the same sensations, and when he was finally satisfied, he braced himself.

Taking a deep breath, he met Snape's gaze directly. The man was watching him, poised to strike, ready to pry into his mind and extract whatever information he sought.

There was a long, drawn-out moment in which emerald green met pitch black, and Harry barely noticed Snape's wand rising.

He barely registered the moment Snape's mind entered his own—because this time, Harry remained rooted in the damp dungeon room.

Harry was confused.

He knew Snape had cast Legilimens. He had felt something foreign crash against his consciousness. But where before he would have been swept away into a sea of memories, this time—nothing happened.

Had he actually managed to protect his mind?

Was this what Occlumency was supposed to feel like?

Lost in his own bewilderment, he almost missed the shift in Snape's expression—from passive to something approaching frustration.

Snape narrowed his eyes, his thin lips pressing into a barely perceptible frown. But Harry noticed.

His survival had always depended on recognising when an adult near him was angry. Knowing when Vernon was on the verge of losing control had helped keep him alive this long.

So, he had been trained to pick up on even the smallest shifts in an adult's expression—to anticipate when the explosion would come.

Snape was no different.

Only he was much harder to read than his lumbering uncle.

But over time, Harry had managed to understand him—at least enough to recognise when the man was at his limit.

Right now, the vein in his temple wasn't pulsing furiously, and his gaze hadn't yet shifted to 'Potter, I am about to reunite you with your dearly departed parents.'

So, for the moment, Harry was safe. Relatively speaking.

Though he could feel the tension in the air, and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

A brief moment of silence passed as Snape slowly lowered his wand, his dark eyes never leaving Harry's.

"Again." His voice was low, cold. A command that wasn't to be disobeyed.

Harry swallowed thickly, his heart pounding in his chest from a mixture of adrenaline and sheer disbelief.

Had it worked? Really?

He barely dared to believe it.

But if it had worked once, then he could do it again.

Straightening up, the thought gave him renewed hope—along with a flicker of exhilaration.

This time, when he met Snape's gaze, it was with defiance, his chin slightly raised as he focused on recapturing that sensation—on reinforcing the barrier that had held against Snape before.

"Legilimens!"

This time, he felt the force behind the spell—stronger than before, like a wave threatening to crash over him.

For a moment, flashes of memories flickered at the edge of his consciousness—Hermione's laughter, Ron's worried face, Sirius's furious expression—

And then—

Nothing.

He repelled it.

It lasted mere moments. Only fragmented images.

But when he snapped back to himself, he realised he was panting slightly, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple.

He looked up, bracing for Snape's anger—but the man didn't look furious. Not more than usual, at least.

He looked… surprised.

But in the blink of an eye, the expression was gone, leaving Harry wondering if he had imagined it.

"Interesting." Snape murmured, his tone so neutral—so much like someone casually commenting on the weather—that Harry couldn't tell if it was a compliment or just an observation.

Harry didn't reply.

He doubted Snape meant it as a compliment—certainly not to him.

Snape stepped forward, wand still in hand.

"How convenient that you seem to have grasped the rudiments of Occlumency precisely when you have some harebrained scheme you wish to keep from me. I wonder if this is mere luck…"

Harry clenched his jaw, biting back the retort burning on his tongue.

Of course Snape knew he was up to something. The man rarely missed anything.

But Harry couldn't afford to lose control now.

"Again." Snape ordered.

And so, they continued.

Harry had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been minutes or hours because, every time Snape cast the spell, he was dragged into an invisible battle where the only battlefield was his mind.

But each time, it became easier. Each time, Harry felt something growing inside him—something he hadn't realised he possessed.

Discipline.

It wasn't just about shutting his mind or trying to force Snape out. It was control. Awareness. He was no longer being dragged helplessly into the current of his own memories—he was standing his ground.

And Snape knew it.

When the professor finally lowered his wand for the last time, Harry was exhausted. His legs felt unsteady, his mind drained, as if he had been running for miles without stopping.

Snape studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, with a sharp motion, he slid his wand back into his sleeve.

Harry was stunned.

He had half-expected Snape to keep going until he pried out something. He thought this would continue forever.

"Don't look so surprised, Potter." Snape sneered, his gaze still sharp but laced with something else—something Harry couldn't quite place.

"I am not so blind as to be unaware when it is time to stop. It is clear that I will not be uncovering the idiocy of your next foolish escapade tonight."

He sighed, as if the admission physically pained him.

"I will, however, acknowledge that when adequately motivated, you are capable of feats that I would not have believed possible, given your usual laziness and staggering lack of intelligence."

Harry frowned.

Somewhere beneath the layers of insults, there was—he was fairly certain—a compliment.

"Don't make that face, Potter." Snape's tone was sharper now, irritated. "And do not think for one moment that I will not find out what your feeble adolescent brain has concocted. Rest assured—there are other ways to uncover the truth."

A chill ran down Harry's spine.

But before Snape could continue with his threats—or, worse, act on them—they were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.

Snape's eyes flicked towards it, momentary confusion flashing across his face before he turned back to Harry, expression instantly hardening.

"Potter, go now!" he barked, with a clear warning glare in his eyes, which unmistakably said, 'Don't ruin this, or you'll pay the consequences.'

With a flick of his wand, he conjured a dozen dirty cauldrons, along with an equal number of clean ones on the other side.

He had almost forgotten that the entire student body thought he would be serving punishments until the end of the year.

He approached his workstation, his sickly and sweaty appearance making it easy for an outside observer to believe he had just endured hours of exhausting detention.

He focused on the manual task assigned to him, although with all the experience gained at the Dursleys, he managed to do it without paying much attention.

In fact, his ears were focused on the unexpected visitor.

Never, not even in a detention, had anyone interrupted.

He saw the familiar blonde head peek from behind the door and almost relaxed.

With his luck, he had thought it would be plausible for Umbridge herself to knock on the door, take Harry for herself, and finish off Snape's 'detention.'

But as he had seen, she hadn't yet interfered with the man's control over detentions—perhaps due to the reputation those punishments had, making it clear that Snape had a firm grip.

The sense of relief that flooded him upon seeing the Slytherin also brought with it a feeling of irony.

He never would have thought he'd feel relieved to see Malfoy, of all people.

But things had changed, at least for now, they had a truce, and Harry didn't mind at all—he had far too many enemies, and he would gladly have done without one more.

Draco caught his gaze, and the concern in it almost made Harry drop the act.

He barely kept his composure and watched as the conversation unfolded, wanting it not to be whispered, but Harry was able to catch the gist.

Another student, a third-year Slytherin, had been tortured.

This was really going too far. He was more convinced than ever of the need to act on and implement the plan as soon as possible, and one look at Draco confirmed that he felt the same.

Snape was angry; Harry could feel it. His heart pounded knowing he was in the same room with an angry man, but he managed to control his nervousness.

The knowledge of this new information only strengthened his determination.

Snape, for the first time since the blonde had entered the room, turned his attention back to Harry.

"Potter, your detention for today is over. Get out," he said coldly.

For a moment, Harry was surprised to see that he was being let go from his 'detention,' but then he realised that with Madam Pomfrey out of the picture, Snape would be the only one with enough knowledge of magical healing and potions to treat anyone.

Indeed, Snape had already turned his attention to gathering supplies, leaving Harry alone with Malfoy, who was now glaring at him.

Harry understood what Draco felt right now; he shared it too, but the sense of helplessness would soon fade.

Soon, they would bring justice to all the students who had suffered under that woman's cruelty.

He nodded at Draco, instinctively knowing that he understood. In the look that passed between them, there was a silent promise.

Soon.

Soon, they would make things right.

Harry turned and quickly left Snape's office without looking back. He could still feel the anger coursing through his veins, mixed with the exhaustion from the long Occlumency session. But he couldn't afford to collapse now.

Hurrying through the deserted corridors towards Gryffindor Tower, his mind was racing.

He was astounded that Umbridge thought she could keep torturing students expecting no one to do anything. The situation had gotten out of hand.

He quickened his pace, feeling as if every moment he wasted was another moment in which that witch could hurt someone further in the sacred halls of Hogwarts.

After what felt like centuries, he finally found himself standing before the portrait of the Fat Lady. He wasted no time, muttering the password and slipping through the passage as soon as the portrait opened.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him, sitting by the fire. Hermione had a book in her lap, while Ron appeared to have dozed off with his head resting on the arm of the armchair.

As soon as Harry entered, Hermione looked up, her brow immediately furrowing with concern upon seeing him.

Now he knew his friend wasn't as certain as she had previously let on about the success of his mental shields.

Well, at least she had tried to lift his spirits, he thought tiredly.

"How did it go?" she asked, lowering her voice.

Harry sank into an armchair next to them, finally feeling the weight of exhaustion take over.

"Better than I thought," he admitted, running a tired hand through his hair. "Snape couldn't see anything."

Hermione looked pleasantly satisfied with this news.

"Wow, that's amazing, Harry!"

Ron jolted awake, his eyes wide. "What… really? You managed to stop him from getting in?"

Harry blushed slightly at his friend's praise and nodded at Ron. "I don't even know how I did it. It was… different from usual. But it worked."

He tried to explain further the feeling he'd experienced, but stopped when he realised, with frustration, that explaining it was impossible.

His thick-haired friend's face contorted, and she closed the book in her lap, now forgotten.

She gave him an intense look, the same expression she reserved for puzzles or complicated questions.

"It's possible you've found a method that works for you," she said, tapping her fingers on the cover of the book. "Maybe you unconsciously used a memory or emotion as a shield, something that allowed you to stay grounded in the present instead of being pulled into your memories."

Harry thought about it. He recalled the mechanism he had subconsciously activated while at the Dursleys, trying to discern exactly what he had done.

He wasn't sure, but at that moment, it didn't matter. What mattered was that it had worked.

That was a question that would be answered later. Right now, there were more important things to discuss.

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "We need to reconsider our timeline. Malfoy came to inform Snape that another student has been tortured."

Ron stiffened, and Hermione visibly shuddered.

"Who?" she asked in a whisper.

"A third-year Slytherin. I don't know his name."

The silence that followed between them was heavy with seriousness. Hermione bit her lip, while Ron clenched his fists.

"We have to put an end to this," Ron said angrily, his voice harder than usual.

"I agree," Hermione said solemnly.

They exchanged a look of mutual understanding.

The time for talking was over, the preparations had been completed—it was time to set the plan in motion.

Hermione pulled something from her pocket, and Harry realised it was the communication device they had used for the DA.

It had been useful for organising and communicating with the members of the group, and now it would serve to implement the plan.

They had distributed the coins to every prefect of each house. He remembered the surprise on Malfoy's face when he realised how ingenious a Gryffindor could be—though, of course, he never admitted it.

Hermione rolled the coin between her fingers for a moment before offering it to him decisively.

"You should be the one to do it, Harry," she said, her voice firm, her eyes sparkling. "If we've come this far, it's thanks to you. It's only right that you be the one to start it."

Harry watched the coin gleam in the firelight.

Not an instant of hesitation in his mind.

With a decisive nod, he took the coin from Hermione's hand.

'Tomorrow,' he wrote, the brief and concise message, one that would not be misunderstood and would mark the beginning of a new era.

The coin warmed in his hand once the message was sent, and he looked up to see his friends staring at him with determination.

When the coin cooled between his fingers, he stood up, knowing he had more allies to notify.

"Dobby," he called. In the silence of the common room, a soft pop echoed through the room.

Involving the house-elves had been risky, but necessary.

House-elves, in fact, were incredibly powerful creatures.

He had seen firsthand how easily Dobby could perform magic that adult wizards found difficult.,or even impossible.

One example was that they were the only ones capable of Apparating inside the grounds of Hogwarts.

The only downside was that they were bound by very strict rules, especially their loyalty to their masters.

And here lay the key. The house-elves of Hogwarts served the school, but more than anything, they were tied to the Headmaster. And who did they recognise as the true Headmaster? Dumbledore. Not Umbridge.

It was a line of thinking he was convinced of, but also risky. In fact, if he was wrong, and their loyalty was even in the slightest part to Umbridge, their plan would be doomed from the start.

Harry and his friends had discussed the risk and knew it was high, but they were all in agreement, and the role of the house-elves in the plan was essential, so they didn't have much choice.

He remembered how Ron wasn't worried about it.

"Dobby would take a knife in the stomach for you, mate," Ron had said lightly, without even thinking. "We can definitely trust him."

He also remembered Hermione's look, her lips pressed into a thin line, the way she had held back in the conversation. He knew she didn't like the idea of involving the house-elves, of using them in some way, but she hadn't said anything. And if Hermione hadn't protested, it meant she had already weighed the situation and realised it was for the best.

In the end, her concerns proved unfounded; the house-elves hadn't been a problem.

Dobby had assured them that the inhabitants of the kitchens were outraged by Umbridge, that they knew about the cruel punishments she inflicted on students, and what she had done to McGonagall.

And if there was one thing the house-elves of Hogwarts couldn't tolerate, it was someone who hurt someone they respected.

So now ,when he saw the elf hopping with joy when he announced it was time to deal with Umbridge, he couldn't help but chuckle at the scene.

That night, when he lay on his bed, he felt lighter than ever.

Not only had he managed to avoid being caught by Snape, but he had also organised a plan he was sure of.

For once, he felt prepared, not like all the other adventures he had been a part of. This time, it wouldn't be luck; there was strategy, planning, and cunning.

Tomorrow would be a day to remember. Ron was convinced that this revolution was unprecedented and that would be remembered in history books.

Harry didn't care about that. He didn't care about being in Hogwarts Through the Ages and boring future generations, forced to listen to Binns' monotonous explanation of their heroic actions.

What mattered to him was getting rid of Umbridge, and that would happen at any cost.

No matter what happened, tomorrow Hogwarts would shine again, he told himself.

Hello everyone here i'am with a new chapter! Let me know what you think !