CHAPTER 26

It's too early for me to be awake right now, but sleeping is nearly impossible because I'm so irritated with my failure at Occlumency. Sure, it's only been a few days, but I expected to be slightly better at keeping Snape out of my mind while sleeping—after all, I've been practicing Occlumency in general for months, so this shouldn't be nearly as difficult as it is right now. I'm afraid even Snape is growing frustrated with me, and though it pains me to admit it, if he gives up on me, there will be no coming back from that. It will utterly destroy me.

And I'd go and tell him that, but our lessons aren't supposed to begin for almost another hour, which means I'm left sitting here growing more and more annoyed with myself as I try think of ways to improve before my next lesson despite knowing that dwelling on it is completely pointless. It's not like I can practice without someone using Legilimency against me, and I'm not about to ask anyone else to do that because that is just far too risky for my liking.

After a long while of just lying there, I give up trying to go back to sleep and, with a muffled groan, throw my legs over the side of my bed and make my way to the bathroom to take an extraordinarily long shower to kill some time before going to my lesson and failing miserably.

When at long last there are only fifteen minutes separating me and the lessons, I leave the Slytherin Dungeon and make my way to Snape's office, not caring about the spare time that still needs to be killed. Besides, if I can get a few extra minutes of practice in, perhaps I can improve faster. Each bit of practice helps, doesn't it?

I knock on Snape's door, and he almost immediately calls for me to enter. "You're here early," he says as I take a seat in front of him.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Well, you won't be sleeping during these lessons either." He shifts in his chair. "From what I've seen over the past few days, you are becoming less invested in our Occlumency lessons because of how badly you've been struggling, correct?" I exhale and look away from him. "I thought so." I clear my throat, not wanting to meet his eye and confront how he likely looks disappointed in me right now. "I believe it might be a good idea to continue with Occlumency while you're awake."

This finally causes me to look up at him, and I'm surprised to see that he doesn't look disgusted or disappointed with me.

"Don't get too excited. This evening, we will continue with your abysmal attempts to keep me from your mind while you sleep."

"So . . . this is kind of like a pity thing? You feel bad for me because I'm a failure—"

"No. I believe it's time to see if your normal Occlumency skills have improved from attempting the more advanced form."

I nod, kind of relieved at this change of plan. "All right. Yeah, I think I'm ready."

Snape aims his wand at me. "Keep me out of your mind. Legilimens."

I keep my gaze focused on Snape's eyes as something like a tentacle wraps itself around my head and begins to squeeze. Try as these tentacles might to burst my head like a grape, I continue watching Snape. His jaw clenches, and the spell tightens around my brain, pulling a pained gasp from my mouth and forcing me to close my eyes against the pain. I drop my head into my hands and try to breathe evenly. "Stop, stop," I grind out.

An invisible hand punches me in the face; then the pressure disappears. I take a breath but can't bring myself to look up at him yet. I keep my eyes shut tightly against the pounding in my skull. "The Dark Lord will try harder to penetrate your mind than I just did."

"That's . . . terrible."

"It'll hurt. That's why it's so important to learn to manipulate your thoughts. Eventually it becomes almost impossible to keep someone out of your mind, so it's best to be able to show them only what you want them to see rather than keep them out."

The pounding in my head dies just slightly enough to enable me to lift my head and look at him. "All right then. That sounds horrific."

"You won't have to worry about it if you can successfully manipulate your thoughts." He aims his wand at me again. "Show me only what you want to show me. Legilimens."

I'm thirteen years old, sitting in the woods, the sun setting somewhere behind me. I have long blonde hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail. A couple of feet away from me sits a cat, its eyes watching me closely. It's bony and dirty and kind of pathetic-looking, but it's small and cute at the same time, its tail just barely moving. Not taking my eyes off the cat, I reach into my bag and bring out some jerky and a bottle of water. I tear a bite off the jerky, then place a little bit on the ground in front of me. A pressure in the back of my head tries to find its way to another memory, and though my brain pounds against my skull, I do not let my mind stray from this one memory.

That cat continues watching me curiously. "Are you hungry?" I ask it, motioning to the food I've placed on the ground for it.

I take another bite of the jerky, then a sip of water, before shoving it all back into my bag. I climb to my feet and watch the cat for another moment before wandering off. I glance back over my shoulder and see the bony cat eating the small bite of food I left for it. I smile broadly to myself and continue on my way.

I force Snape from my mind and gasp for breath. "You've improved." The pride in his voice actually brings a smile to my face. For a moment, it almost seems like he's going to return the smile, but instead he says, "Show me a false memory. Make it believable. Legilimens."

Snape and I are sitting in Spinner's End, me on the sofa and him in his armchair. "You know what I think would be a good addition to your household, Professor?"

He lowers his newspaper just enough to look over the top of it and see me. "I don't believe I asked."

"No, I know. I just think it might do you good to have a cat. Or a kitten. Something to look after, you know? It might give you a sense of purpose or something."

"Am I not looking after you?"

"Yeah, but a cat would love you unconditionally. I feel like pets do that."

He lifts the paper back up.

"It could sit on your lap while you read your morning paper."

"Stop talking, Rodgers, or I shall have to use the Langlock curse on you once again."

Snape actually looks quite pleased with me when I push him from my mind, but I can only look at him for a moment before closing my eyes and pressing the heels of my hands against them. "Well done, Rodgers. The pain will pass." After another second or so, it does, and I look back at him. "And as for the cat," he says as he leans back in his chair and places his wand on his desk, "it would likely tire of me."

A laugh escapes me, and for a moment it seems like he's going to laugh with me, but instead he just kind of smiles. Now that he's brought it to my mind, it's surprising even to me that I haven't grown tired of him yet. "You were right, Professor. Practicing Occlumency while sleeping made this a lot easier."

"Don't be too pleased with yourself. I didn't try as hard as I could have, and this evening you will be attempting to manipulate your thoughts while you sleep."

That was unnecessary to say. "Are we done for now then?"

He nods. "You're free to go to breakfast."

I almost ask if he would like to walk with me but decide against, then stand and make my way to the door. "Thank you, Professor."

My friends and the first-years are already seated when I arrive in the Great Hall for breakfast, and I take a seat beside Julia. "We thought you might be skipping out on breakfast," Astoria says.

"I decided I was hungry." Daphne narrows her eyes at me but doesn't say anything. I suspect she knows I'm lying, however, considering we live in the same dormitory.

"What've you got planned for you day off?" Grant asks me.

I shrug. "Homework, most likely. I have some essays I need to finish up."

"Oh, good, let me join you," Daphne says. "I'm not going to finish my essays if I don't have someone doing work, too, to give me motivation." Astoria grins to herself but doesn't say anything, instead drinking her juice, and I watch her for a moment before giving up trying to figure out what's so funny.

Around that time, the owls arrive, and one that I recognize to be a Hogwarts owl drops a small note on my plate. This isn't from Fred or Zoe. They each got my letter yesterday and are unlikely to have replied already. I pick up the note and smile—McGonagall has summoned me to her office after lunch for my Conjuration lessons. This is the greatest news I could have possibly received today. Not only have I grown better at Occlumency but also I am now allowed to start my lessons with McGonagall again.

"Good news?" Ella asks me.

"Yes."

I don't elaborate, instead choosing to let all of them chat together over their breakfasts. Today will likely go by slowly now that I have something so great to look forward to.

The first-years scramble away as soon as they finish eating, trying to get to class at least somewhat early, as does Astoria. "Would you like to come do homework with us, Grant?"

"Ugh, no, I have plans that do not include homework today," he says.

Daphne and I say goodbye to him and start toward the library. "So, these private lessons," she says to me as we take seats across from each other and fan out our essays, "what're they for?"

"Like I said before, they're private," I say with a grin, unrolling my Transfiguration essay.

"Be that way then, Rodgers."

"I will, Greengrass."

We're silent for just a few minutes before she sighs and says, "Merlin, I feel like we're studying for the O.W.L.s again."

"Give it a year, and we'll be studying for the N.E.W.T.s."

"I hate you, why would you say that?"

"Because it's true?" She just groans and goes back to her essay. "Don't act like you didn't already realize it."

I've just finished my Transfiguration essay and have started on the DADA essay when Daphne begins packing up her things. "You don't have to leave, do you?"

"I'd skip Muggle Studies if you asked," she says with a smile. "You just gotta ask."

"I'm not going to be a bad influence on you. What would I say if the first-years found out?"

"You lie to them, of course." She slings her bag onto her back. "I'll see you later, Charlotte."

She's just left my table when Theodore Nott appears from around the bookshelves and takes Daphne's vacant seat. "You know," he says quietly, staring directly at me with a look that actually kind of concerns me, a look that seems smug almost, "if I hadn't heard it directly from my father, I wouldn't have believed it myself."

"What do you mean?"

"You put on a very good show. You act as if you've never actually been around Death Eaters, that you don't know the horrors out there. Though, I'm guessing part of the reason you leave the common room almost every night has something to do with it. Private lessons, is it? What are they really? Is Snape prepping you for when you have to meet the Dark Lord once and for all? My father has been trying to prepare me for a while now, but I'm not as eager as Malfoy seems to be about the situation. Personally, I just wanted to graduate from Hogwarts and join the Ministry doing some average job making decent money and staying under the radar entirely. That's the dream. But no, they want me to follow their path."

"What're you on about?"

"You're never really prepared for something like that though, are you? Looking into the eyes of evil?" He leans forward in his seat, almost so far that his chest is flat on the table, his head resting on his fist as he looks up at me. "From what I hear, Malfoy was more than prepared, and I suppose I can't let him outdo me, can I?"

"Listen, Nott—"

"Call me 'Theodore.' We'll soon be forced onto a first-name basis, won't we? When they have me join the Death Eaters? You, me, and Draco. Crabbe and Goyle will likely be there as well, but who cares about them, yeah? They're not as rich as Malfoy and I are, and they're not—well, you. And we both know who you are, don't we?"

"Theodore, I don't know what you're talking about," I say, keeping my voice as even as I can. Does he know I'm a Lestrange? Does his father know I'm a Lestrange?

He looks around and lowers his voice. "Your importance to the Dark Lord." My eyes widen slightly, my breath catching in my throat. This is almost worse than him knowing I'm a Lestrange. "I don't know what you're to do, of course, but my father"—the right side of his mouth turns up in a smile—"he said that you were important to the Dark Lord and that I should introduce myself at some point. I'll keep everything to myself, you know. But if Crabbe and Goyle—or Malfoy, for that matter—keep bothering you, I guess it couldn't hurt to offer my help, could it?" He winks at me. "Besides, I feel like you and I have a lot more in common than most people realize." Then stands to leave but stops at the edge of my table, turns back, and speaks again, this time so quietly it seems that he might not actually be speaking at all, "Have you heard from the Muggle-born recently? I heard the two of you were . . . close last year." Then he leaves, my eyes trailing after him.

I try to go back to my homework after that but find myself unable to. Someone else here knows I'm important to the Dark Lord? That doesn't sit well with me. And what was that comment about Zoe? What does that have to do with anything? Does he know I'm still in contact with her, and if he does, does he pose a threat to her?

For the rest of the day, I cannot get my conversation with Theodore Nott out of my mind. It rattles around in there even as I make my way to my Conjuration lessons with McGonagall. I'll need to speak with Snape at some point about it, of course, but I don't really want to. Facing the fact that there are other children of Death Eaters here in the castle with me who know I'm important to Voldemort makes me uncomfortable.

I knock on McGonagall's office door and enter when she gives me permission. "Hello, Professor."

"Evening, Rodgers." I walk over and take a seat in front of her desk. "I trust you've been working on Conjuration over the holiday?"

"Yes, of course. I learned the Water-Making Spell, actually."

"Excellent." She Conjures up a bowl and places it on her desk. "Would you care to demonstrate?"

I bring out my wand. "Aguamenti." The water spews out of my wand and fills the bowl.

McGonagall nods her head in approval. "Very well done." My chest swells with pride, and I smile at her. "Have you been working on Conjuring anything else?"

"I can still Conjure the quill like I could last year." I demonstrate, the feeling of accomplishment spreading through me. "But other than that, I've been struggling. It's been a few failures after another."

"You'll learn. Now that you can successfully use the Bird-Conjuring Spell and the Water-Making Spell, you can move onto Conjuring inanimate objects. Why don't you start with something slightly bigger than a quill? You can work your way up to larger objects."

I grin at her and take a breath. "All right."

For the next ten minutes, I fail at Conjuring a goblet, and McGonagall goes back to doing something on her desk. I don't try to find out what she's doing because it's likely just professor work of little interest to me right now.

She's fully engrossed in her work when I finally Conjure the goblet, and I stare at it for a moment, admiring my success. "Professor," I say quietly, not willing to remove my eyes from the goblet lest it disappear.

She looks up, and I hear her make a noise. "Congratulations, Rodgers." Finally, I tear my gaze from the goblet and meet her eye. "As I said, you'll learn."

A smile comes to my face, my lips stretching wider than I thought they could. "I don't know how to thank you, Professor."

"You can thank me by continuing to practice."

"I think I can do that."

For almost the next hour, I continue to work on Conjuration, listening to her advice on what I'm doing wrong and constantly making adjustments as needed. I can Conjure a goblet at will now and a miniature chair almost half of the time. Which is progress compared to where I was last year.

Though I'm thrilled with my advancements in Conjuration, I know that stepping foot into Snape's office again for Occlumency lessons is going to ruin this joyful feeling in my chest. So I wait outside his office door for a long moment, letting myself prepare for my letdown. I suppose I could go back to the common room and pretend to have forgotten about these lessons, but deep down I know I could never do that because learning Occlumency is the only way to get into the Order, meaning there's really no choice.

With that in mind, I push open his office door and step inside. He glances at me but doesn't comment about how I've just burst into his office. "Evening, Professor," I say, taking a seat.

"Evening." He continues writing something on a piece of parchment, and I keep to myself. Whatever he's doing is important or else he would've set it aside like he normally does upon my arrival for lessons, so I wait patiently, just giving myself the chance to brace myself a tiny bit more for my failure. At long last he sets aside his quill, rolls up the parchment, and says, "You're ready then?"

"What'll happen if I don't succeed at this, Professor? Other than the Order, of course. I mean, will Vol—the Dark Lord—actually try to penetrate my mind while I'm asleep? Does he trust me that little?"

"If you give him any reason to believe you're untrustworthy, yes."

"And if I never get the hang of it?"

"You'll be fine," he assures me. "You've already accomplished a great deal, which means you'll learn this eventually."

"I don't have much time."

"You might not have much time before you try to join the Order, but you certainly have enough time before the Dark Lord—before your duty."

I swallow and look away from him. "Let's go ahead and get started then, yeah?"

He raises his wand at me. "All I want you to do right now is keep me out of your mind."

I'm sitting in the common room with my friends.

I'm lying in the bed at Spinner's End, the blankets pulled up to my chin.

I'm sitting on the counter beside Bellatrix as she makes eggs.

Try as I might to keep him out of my mind, each time I attempt to force him out, he only ends up in another memory.

I'm sitting on the shower floor, covered in the muck from swamp outside Umbridge's office.

I'm sobbing into Zoe's arms.

Zoe and I are sitting on her sofa, my head on her shoulder.

I wrap my arms around George from behind, thinking he's Fred.

I sit outside the Burrow, a Quidditch match taking place above me. I'm working on the Water-Making Spell. Snape appears in front of me and crouches down before me. "Charlotte—"

"I know!" my dream-self snaps before continuing with the spell. "I'm aware that I'm failing."

"Charlotte—"

"Protego!"

I'm too heavy-handed with the spell and am unfortunately drawn into Snape's memories.

Snape screams in pain, his body writhing under Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse. Something vindictive and angry shines in Voldemort's eyes. A chill slides down my spine as I look upon Voldemort's face—I've never seen him that angry before. Snape continues screaming, but he does not beg for mercy.

Snape throws me from his mind, and I just sit there, watching him. When had that happened? When had Voldemort tortured him like that? He didn't look young enough in that memory for it to have been before Voldemort fell over a decade ago. He looked—well, almost like he does right now. I swallow down the guilt in my chest, struggling to breathe properly as I consider what I just saw. "Did that—when did that happen?" He does not answer me, and the prospect of asking my next question horrifies me, a terrible feeling roiling in my gut as I force myself to inhale deeply. "Professor, was that—was that because I ran off over the holiday? Did he"—my voice cracks, forcing me to clear my throat—"did he torture you because of me?"

A surprised expression crosses his face before disappearing. "No."

Overwhelmed with relief, I let out a sigh and close my eyes against threatening tears. Why does that matter so much to me? "When did it happen? Why did he do that to you? I thought—I thought he trusted you."

"It doesn't matter. We're still working on your Occlumency." He raises his wand. "Show me only the memory you want me to see."

I'm with Zoe, sitting on the shower floor with our backs against the wall and our knees up, the murk from the swamp caked onto me, my arms wrapped around her legs, my head resting on her knees. "It's all right," she says kindly, rubbing my shoulder. "Whatever you did—"

"It's so bad," I cry.

"No, no, I'm sure it's not—"

"She could lock me away in Azkaban!"

She shushes me and rests her head atop mine.

I try to shove him out of my memories, but I can't get him out. He latches harder to this one, and it feels like someone has gripped by brain in an iron hand.

"I'm sure she deserved whatever you—"

"She didn't," I whisper.

"It's Umbridge. She deserves worse."

I almost laugh.

Again, Snape appears in front of us, the water from the shower passing right through him as if he were a ghost. "Charlotte, you have to force me out," he says kindly. "Without using the Shield Charm."

"I don't know any other way," I say to him while Zoe tries to comfort me.

Snape pulls me back out of my sleep. He watches me, and the disappointment on his face strikes straight to my chest. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"Does Miss Accrington know? Does she know what you did to Umbridge? How many people have you told besides myself and Professor McGonagall?"

"How did you know I told her?"

"She spoke with Professor Dumbledore, who spoke with me." I frown at him. "He does not believe you are a danger to the students." He glances away from me. "As for you joining the Order"—he looks back at me—"he's asked me to keep an eye on you, to see if you were—"

"He thinks I might not be able to join the Order because of what I did to her?" I swallow the lump in my throat. "It makes sense, I guess."

"That's not what I said. He has me keeping an eye on you to see if you'll be able to handle joining the Order. I don't think you would use that particular curse for no reason."

"I shouldn't have used it at all." Snape doesn't comment, and I take this moment to say, "Professor, I had a . . . strange interaction with Theodore Nott earlier."

His eyebrows shoot up, and he listens with rapt attention as I explain to him everything that transpired between Theodore and me, except for the part about Zoe. When I finish trying to explain what happened, he waits in silence for a few moments before saying, "I wouldn't be too concerned. As his father is a Death Eater, he likely knows about you. At least he claims not to know what you are supposed to do."

"So I shouldn't be worried?"

"I don't believe so. But I'll keep an eye on the situation." I don't know if I believe him.

We go back to Occlumency, and I spend the next hour failing to keep Snape out of my mind while I sleep, and by the time I leave, he's so frustrated that he can hardly look at me. And that almost feels worse than my failure.