“On three,” Snape started dully, as if bored by the whole experience. “One, two, three. Legilimens.”

Darkness and confusion.  Memories flashed before Harry eyes like stills from a black and white film. His heart thudded under his chest. Where was he? What was he suppose to do again? Clear your mind! A harsh voice scolded him.

Clear his mind? How in the world was he suppose to do that when...Harry felt a familiar intrusion in his mind, something was pushing, trying to force its way in.  Harry tried to get to it, but it was too far away! He wouldn't reach it in time! It was strong too, even if he could get to it, there was little chance he could keep it out. He had to concentrate...but the force was pulling now, grabbing, taking the memories from him...and then...as simply as that...

Harry was five or six. Uncle Vernon just got a huge promotion at Gunnings and took the entire family out to dinner at an expensive restaurant. But since Harry wasn't considered part of the family, he was left alone in the cupboard with half of an old apple.

Harry fought to get the memory back, but before he could get to the intruder, it abandoned the memory and moved on. It was gone again, and so far away...searching again...it was looking for something. There!  It found it...it was another memory.  Harry hurried to lay claim. It had no right! These memories were private, they were his!

“Hurry up, boy! I have a very important reception this evening and that car better be spotless and sparkling by six o'clock or you can forget about supper!” Uncle Vernon bellowed as he pushed Harry into the garage none too gently, Harry tripped and fell, scraping his knee.

Harry tugged and pulled, trying to wrestle the memory back with all his vigour. But the intruder was too strong; he did not stand a chance. He fought to no avail; it seems that the harder he fought, the harder the force fought back.  He growled with frustration, feeling utterly helpless. Suddenly, the presence was gone and the memory hurled back at him...sending him head over heels.

“POTTER!” An angry voice snapped.

Harry's eyes tore open and as the room came to focus around him.  It took a second for his mind to realize where he was; he was Snape's office, he was learning Occlumency…or trying to anyway.  Harry was bent slightly over, and pressed the palm of his hand to his head, right above the temple.  His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he shook his head, trying hard to rid his mind of the memories that were forced to the surface.  Harry groaned as he caught his breathe. Great, he thought, they’d barely begun and he already had a headache.

00ooOoo00

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Severus shouted in anger, frustration seeping into him like smoke from the cracks around the door.

Harry flinched at the furious tone. “I...I...”

“Did you not read the book like I told you to?” Severus demanded. “If you are lying to me...”

“No!” Harry said breathlessly, shaking his head.  He wouldn't dare lie to Snape about something like that; after all, the professor could just force the truth from him via Legilimency. “I...I did, I swear. I read everything you asked me to!”

“Really? Then perhaps you can tell me why you continue to fail? Why are you not following the instructions? Can't you do what you are told for once?” Severus demanded in a frightening tone, temporarily ignoring Dumbledore’s request.  

This is an impossible task! Hopeless! How does that Dumbledore expect me to teach this denser than lead idiot? I gave Potter one more chance and he has only proved to be even more useless!

“I’m doing the best...” Harry began, but Severus did not let him finish.

“Clearly, you do not take these lessons seriously! How do you expect to learn anything if you do not try?” Severus fumed.

“I am trying. I just...I don’t know what to do. Why can’t you just tell me?” Harry pleaded, his emotions starting to simmer.

Severus ignored him as usual.  He grabbed Harry's bag and dumped the contents onto the floor, retrieving the Occlumency book and flipped speedily through its pages.

“Insolence. You were trying to take the memory back! You are nowhere near that level of study! The text clearly said to focus your energy on blocking me out!” Severus spoke angrily and shoved the open book into Harry's chest. Harry jumped and held the opened pages in his hands.

“Once I got hold of the memory, you should not have wasted your energy trying to get it back, you would never have succeeded.  Getting a memory that I have already obtained requires you to fight me for it, it requires you to go on the offensive.  And you, Potter, have barely grasped the meaning of defence, let along achieve it! Do not think so highly of yourself, you arrogant boy! You are not there yet!” He snapped and took a breather.

“There are multiple tactics one can employ to retrieve a stolen memory, none of which you are yet capable of.  For now concentrate on blocking and prevent me from getting the memory in the first place! Do I make myself clear?”

Harry bristled and glared at Snape.  What was he supposed to have done—simply gave in and let Snape view the memory?  No way!  He’d fight as long as he had fight left in him.

“Do I make myself clear, Potter?” Severus asked again and Harry nodded wordlessly.

Severus took a deep breath to calm himself and raised his wand.

00ooOoo00

Harry braised himself for another assault.  The book said to employ one of two strategies, Harry recalled; one, clear your mind of all emotion and two, focus your entire being on something and nothing else.  The Gryffindor tried to focus on a game of Quidditch, but as significant as Quidditch is to him, Harry could not prevent his mind from wandering…

Tears; Cho was crying.  It was his first kiss with Cho. Harry’s face burned as he watched helplessly as the scene played out vividly right in front of his eyes.  He had to do something—anything to stop Snape from viewing this very private and embarrassing memory. Harry saw himself leaning in forward for the kiss...their lips almost touching…and… Harry really tried remain stoic and unemotional, but he could not.  Snape always did go for the worst memories, the most private and embarrassing once, Harry thought bitterly.  If the memories were less emotional or neutral, he might actually stand a chance.  The teenager tried thinking of nothing....nothing but a vast white...but the white turned black...

Dementors---Harry hated Dementors.  Every time they were near, he would see his mother and hear her dying screams, pleading for his life.  Harry was riding the Hogwarts Express…the train jerked and came to a sudden stop…his friend Ron peered out the window…the air became ice cold… the next thing he knew a dark shadow was at the compartment door and someone screamed...“

Expecto Patronum!” Harry screamed, so horrifyingly engrossed in the memory that he cast the Patronus charm.  The instant relief he felt did not last long for when Harry opened his eyes a magnificent stag had burst from the tip of his wand and charged towards the only target in the room, Snape.  Oh shite!

Snape stumbled backwards several steps, instinctively casting the only protection against charging Patronus, another Patronus.  In half a heartbeat, Snape flicked his wand wordlessly and his own Patronus rushed forth, ready to defend its caster. 

Time seem to slow down for Harry, who stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of him.  He couldn’t believe what just happened.  What had he done!  He’d just sent his Patronus to attack Snape! What was going to happen now?  He had no idea how two Patronus fought, he’d neither seen or read about Patronuses fighting each other.  Whatever the case, the teenager was sure his Patronus was about to take a beating from Snape’s and then he’d have to personally face Snape’s wrath.  Great, now I’m gonna get it. Can this day get any worse?

The two Patronuses raced forward, closing the distance between their cast in the blink of an eye, ready to face down and…stopped.  Their brightness dimmed until one could make out their silhouette and then gradually, what they were.  Two silver steeds, a doe and a stag, stood face to face and gazed at one another in wonder.  A moment of silence passed as neither the steeds nor their casters moved or spoke. Then, the pale white doe cocked its head.  The stag, taller of the two, lowered its great head in a light bow, perhaps showing respect or just saying hello.  The stag once again stood tall, shimmered and dissolved into the air. The doe turned its head and looked at its caster then, it too vanished.

“POTTER!

00ooOoo00

 “POTTER!” Severus shouted, advancing on Harry like a man with a vendetta. “What was that?”

Harry cringed and gulped at the mutinous look on Severus’ face.

Severus came to a stop in front of Harry and leaned dangerously over the smaller boy. “A Patronus charm, Potter? Tell me, what does a Patronus charm have to do with Occlumency and clearing your mind?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Not good enough!”

Harry jumped.

A harsh breath escaped Severus’ lungs and he shook his head in exasperation.

“What am I going to do with you, Potter?”

Why isn’t he getting it? Snape did not recall Occlumency being so difficult to learn.  Perhaps if I took Potter’s wand... without his wand, Potter will be forced to rely solely on his mind…like I did.

“How many times do I have to tell you before it penetrates that think skull of yours? Do not let your emotions control you. Act, do not react!” Severus reprimanded.

Harry continued to stare at Severus’s shoes.

“It is impolite to stare at one’s shoes when they are speaking to you.”

Harry blushed and turned his head away. Severus sighed once more.

 “Stay focused, let go and remain calm. Remember, clear your mind and then try to repel me.  We will try this again, but first give me your wand.”

That made Harry look up. “What? Why?” He cried as his fingers tightened around his wand.

“Because without its security you will be forced to rely on your mind alone,” Severus explained impatiently and held his hand out. “Now give me your wand.”

Harry hesitated, but the look on Severus’ face left no place for argument. “Fine.” He complied and placed his precious wand in Severus’ open hand.  Severus took the wand and put it into his robe pocket.  Harry eyed Severus angrily, hating the man more and more.

“Ready on three.  One, two, three. Legilimence.”

00ooOoo00

Harry tried again to clear his mind, to focus on anything other than the bad events in his life.  But Snape was an expert at dragging his focus to those exact events.  It’s probably a hobby of his, Harry reckoned angrily.

'This is too easy', said Snape; 'you are not trying hard enough', said Snape; 'clear your mind', said Snape; 'CONCENTRATE', said Snape.  Well, it was very hard to concentrate with someone shouting bloody insults in your ear!  It went on and on and on. At the end of one hour, Harry was at his physical and emotional end.

Only then did they stop.

“Hmm,” Snape grimaced and continued icily. “Mediocre. You should know that I do not settle for mediocrity, Mr. Potter.”

Harry lay on the stone floor, his breaths coming in laboured gasps. Snape's criticism only made things worse. Harry closed his eyes, clenched his teeth together and tried to take deep, calming breaths.  It was all he could not to shout back with an angry retort.

“But I suppose it is...adequate for now,” Snape added flatly, making Harry glance up and gawk with an open mouth. 

“Well, don't just lay there, get up!” the potions master snapped as he grabbed a hold of Harry's arm and helped the exhausted teenager to his feet. Snape looked at the young wizard distastefully. “What is it you about me that is so fascinating that you find the need to stare?” Harry looked away promptly, blushing.

Snape rolled his eyes, “Some water?” He asked, leading Harry to a chair at his desk.

Harry frowned at Snape as if the man had grew another head and nodded meekly.

 “Sit,” Snape said as he pushed Harry into the chair, and went to fetch a glass. Harry sank down on the chair, hunched over and wiped the sweat from his forehead.  Boy was he glad that was over, he felt like he’d just wrote a four hour long Transfiguration exam while climbing Mount Everest in heavy fog. His head ached terribly for the exertion and it would take awhile for his heart to stop beating so wildly against his chest

 “Thank you,” Harry said gratefully when his professor returned with a glass of water and handed it to him.  The teenager took several gulps and drank his fill before putting the glass down. 

“Here.”

Harry looked up. Snape was holding a vial of potion in front of him.  The boy frowned.

“It will ease the headache which you no doubt have,” Snape said coolly.

Harry thanked him and drank the potion, making a face as the disgusting substance slid down his throat.

“Blegh.”

Snape smirked as he took the now empty vial from Harry.

“He couldn’t have given it to me before I drank all the water?” Harry muttered under his breath.

Snape, having heard said, “Why would I do that?”

Harry scowled, still trying to get the taste out of his mouth. “So I can get the taste out of my mouth git!” He couldn’t resist muttering.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “My point exactly.”

Harry stole a glance at the potions master, who had sat down in his armchair opposite. 

What does Snape want with him now, Harry wondered.  Was he still angry about the Patronus charm?  He didn’t seem so. Snape had never offered him a glass of water and a pain reliever after their lessons.  Usually, the potions master was only too eager boot him out of the room and deducting several points as he did so. 

Even more confusing, had Snape just complimented him? Snape never even came close to anything non-sarcastic to say to him, let alone a real and genuine compliment. Mediocre but adequate.  Trust Snape to put insult and compliment into the single sentence, the sarcastic git!  But coming from that man adequate meant the same as ‘outstanding’ or ‘excellent’.

Harry doubt he would get anything more than ‘adequate’ as a compliment out of Snape.  But why bother complimenting him at all?  Snape was not a generous man, especially when it came to giving credit to Gryffindors.  Harry could not recall the last time his potions professor had said something positive about him.  Snape had not been totally indecent this week and it was bizarre. Harry dreaded what was to come; surely Snape had nothing more good to say. Plus, Snape’s strange behaviour made him unpredictable. 

That’s all he needs now, Harry thought sarcastically.

 The young Gryffindor took a deep breath and waited for his professor to start berating him.

00oOo00

Severus shook his head as Harry collapsed onto the stone floor gasping. Potter looked exhausted.  Good, that means he’s at least trying.  He had to admit that there was a slight improvement over the previous week.  They were finally getting somewhere, slowly but surely.

“Mediocre.  You should know that I do not settle for mediocrity, Mr. Potter” Severus chastised and watched closely as Harry gritted his teeth and tried to contain his temper. Not bad, Potter. You’re learning. “But I suppose it is…adequate for now.”

When Harry looked up, Severus had on his usual cool mask of indifference, as if nothing had happened.

“Well, don’t just lay there, get up!” Severus snapped, but took Harry by the arm to drag him to his feet.”

He then offered Harry water, some headache reliever and watched as Harry downed both. Not that he cared. He simply needs the boy to concentrate, and Potter had a hard time doing that at the best of times.

“Chapter four discusses some complicated elements. The concepts are not as difficult as intricate,” Severus began.  As part of this new strategy of teaching Harry Occlumency, he would explain some of the more difficult concepts.  Severus did not like this arrangement at all as it required him to spend even more time in the company of his least favourite pupil.  But what’s one more hour when the evening had already gone to waste?  With any luck, Harry will have a rudimentary understanding of Occlumency by the end of the year.  Not that he held much hope.

Time is short. You better start to learn, Potter, for your own sake if no one else’s.

“Grab a quill and parchment.  I will be speaking, and you will be taking notes. Listen carefully, Potter,” he warned. “Should, later on, you question me on a matter that I've already explained, I will be very displeased.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry muttered. He gets up from the chair and walks back to the middle of the room where his things still laid scattered on the floor. Hastily, the Gryffindor jammed everything back into his bag, all except a quill and a spare bit of parchment.  He sat back down and waited for Severus to continue.

Without further delay, the potions master began his lecture.

“The art of Occlumency requires three things; a disciplined mind, endurance, and above all, controlled emotions.  And that, Mr. Potter, is where you hit the proverbial brick wall. This is a difficult discipline that requires time, perseverance and patience,” Severus stressed, his tone chipped and sarcastic. “All of which you seem to lack.”

“Unlike potions, Occlumency is not exact science. There are no measurements in Occlumency, no numbers or calculations, no formulas or chemistry. And, unlike potions or even transfiguration, Occulmency is abstract, as opposed to other more concrete disciplines.  It all depends on how well you control your mind, your thoughts, your very being. And control, Potter, is one the very thing you seem to lack.  I cannot stress how important this fact is; emotional stability is the basis of Occlumency, before you can master your mind, you must overcome your emotions.  Master yourself, control your anger, discipline...are you listening to me Potter?” Severus snapped and banged his hand loudly on the desk.  If there ever was a time he needed Potter to listen, it was now!

Harry jumped in his chair and took his eyes away from the spot on the desk he had been staring at. “Yes, sir.”

“Why don’t I see any notes, Mr. Potter?”

“Um...I just...”

“Did not believe anything I’ve said is worth noting?” Severus pinned Harry with a look, daring him to contradict.

Harry wavered under the potion master’s intense glare. “No, sir,” he answered.

“I’ve just explained to you the basic definition of Occlumency and why you are so horrendous at it.  Do you not think that is important?  How do you suppose you will advance if you do not even know the definition of Occlumency?”

“I was listening,” Harry insisted. Okay, so he wasn’t paying that much attention, but all this was in the book anyway.

“And you suppose you can remember all this for the next week?  And the week after that?”

Harry huffed. “All you said was how Occlumency is all about control and stuff.”

“And stuff, Potter?” Severus copied, clearly insulted by Harry’s pish posh attitude towards such a fine art. How dare Potter refer to Occlumency as ‘stuff’!

“A Master Occulmence dominates his own emotions and mind to a capacity you are unlikely to achieve.  But the need for emotional control is essential no matter what level your discipline. Must I spell it out for you, Potter?  Everything about Occlumency is about the mind.  You will go nowhere without first...”

 “I know, I know. Control my emotions, master myself, discipline my mind.”

“Then why do you not do it?”

“I know, okay!  I just...”

“You have no clue just how little you know, I will not stand for your cocky attitude. You have much to learn.”

“I am not cocky!”

“Enough, I do not have time for this chatter.  Put that quill of yours to use, Potter.  When I told you to take notes, I meant for you to make them through. You should be hanging on my every word, not staring at the desk like a fool!”

Severus spent the next forty minutes demonstrating his utter grasp of the discipline to Harry, showing him where he needed improvement and answered any questions with miraculous tolerance.  It seems that he has took Dumbledore's words to heart, albeit reluctantly.

“You will to continue with chapter four, begin and complete chapter five for next week,” Severus instructed authoritatively. “I am also assigning you two twelve inch essays.” Harry barely managed to suppress his groan. “The first should discuss the importance of a disciplined mind in Occlumency, as well as the necessity of control over your subconscious. The second will be on ways to achieve this control and authority over your emotions. I want them on my desk at exactly seven o'clock, Monday evening, not a minute later, Potter.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered as he put away his lengthy and detailed albeit messy notes.

“Good.  Additionally, starting tonight, you will document your meditation,” Severus ordered and Harry couldn't help but grumble this time.

“Do not ever whine in my presence, Potter!” Severus snapped; he detested whining. “This is for your own good.  It does not need to be long, only a short paragraph.  Record your meditation process and what you are able to achieve. Describe your method and the level of calm and peace you are able to achieve. It need not be formal, simply right down what you feel. Do not forget; rid yourself of every emotion before you sleep!”

Harry nodded.

“Your performance next week will depend greatly on whether you have practiced, studied and understood the work. If you actually listened and recorded adequate notes, study the material and have written two respectable essays, then I should be able to see an improvement next week.” Severus looked at Harry to see if he was taking any of this in. Surprisingly, he found Harry looking back at him so he continued. “I expect to see an improvement, Mr. Potter.  Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

Severus nodded curtly. “If you absolutely must ask questions, see me after class and we shall make an appointment according to my schedule. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Harry answered listlessly.

And let you ridicule me and take points, no thanks.