As he walked to the Great Hall, Harry pretended not to notice the stares and whispers that surrounded him. News of what had happened in fifth year Potions spread like the flu.

How could it not? The memories that the Slytherin and Gryffindor class had witnessed contained the answers to questions that more then half the people in Hogwarts wondered about.

The discussions were not all bad, though. Harry had realized that when he had turned a corner heading towards Charms and found some third year Ravenclaws talking about how he “really did see and talk to You-Know-Who!”

The third years had scampered when they had seen Harry, Ron, and Hermione. After that encounter, Harry didn’t feel so bad. Now nobody can deny that Voldemort is back! He though triumphantly. Maybe the whispers and stares he was receiving weren’t for nothing, after all. If people got serious about Voldemort being back it will have been worth it.

Harry tried to explain his reasoning Ron and Hermione at lunch. ‘Tried’ being the key word.

“Yes, Harry that’s good and all, but I think that you should report Professor Snape,” Hermione said quietly after he explained. People around them were trying hard to hear their conversation.

Ron was nodding vigorously. “He showed your private memories to a class full of Slytherins! They could tell You-Know-Who what they learned,” Ron said and in anger he hit the table with a clenched fist making dishes rattle.

Harry rolled his eyes at his friends. “Oh please, what would the Slytherins tell Voldemort? None of those memories had anything that could be used against us,” Harry said patiently as he buttered a warm roll.

Harry inhaled the smell of the honey butter before biting in to the roll. This…is…Heaven. He thought before mentally laughing at himself. He was so giddy. Snape, it seemed, had forgiven him. Voldemort was suddenly real and not a figment of his imagination, and to top it off, he had hot, superb food.

Hermione leaned forward over the table.

“They may not know any vital information, but they are now aware of other things. Like how Sirius is an Animagus. If they had any doubt about it before, your memories just proved them right.”

Harry didn’t look concerned and Hermione frowned.

“They’re aware that you don’t always stay in Gryffindor Tower at night. That could prove dangerous,” Hermione said fiercely as she tried to make her friend see her point.

“Hermione, tons of students go out at night,” Harry said irritably. He was starting to get annoyed. Why can’t she just let me be happy for a while? He asked himself.

Hermione leaned closer so that only Harry and Ron could hear her.

“They know that you have been mistreated in the past by people that were supposed to love you.” Hermione’s words were so soft that for a moment Harry wasn’t sure they were real. “Think about what would happen if someone like Rita Skeeter got a hold on that!”

Harry’s fork dropped out of his now numb hand at Hermione’s words. It clattered loudly against his plate and drew more attention to the three friends.

“Snape violated your privacy!” Hermione continued quietly, ignoring Ron who trying to get her attention by staring at her. Harry barely heard what Hermione had said.

He felt a cold chill trailing down his skin. He knew he must have paled by the concerned looks on Ron and Hermione’s face.

“Harry?” Hermione asked. She stretched out her arm and touched Harry’s hand.

Harry drew his hand back quickly and looked away from her hurt expression. “I have to finish some homework,” he said quietly. The food didn’t look very appetizing anymore.

Harry got up from the table half way across the room he heard Hermione trying to get him to come back.

“Harry--wait,” she tried but Harry ignored her and disappeared through the doors.

………………………………...

Harry walked slowly toward his next class. Even though he had told Hermione that he had homework, the truth was that he had none. Harry hated lying to Hermione, but he just had to get away from her.

Hogwarts was a get away from the Dursleys, while he was at Hogwarts he didn’t want to talk about his hateful relatives or his life with them. Ron and Hermione never asked about them so Harry didn’t talk about them; in less it was in jest or in passing.

Today was the most Harry had talked about the Dursleys in his five years at Hogwarts, he had barely opened his mouth and had hated every minute of the short discussion.

Even though Harry walked slowly towards Transfiguration, he was still the first to get there. He sat down outside the closed doors to the classroom and put his book bag beside him. Harry let his thought drift to his upcoming Occlumency lessons.

It was a miracle that Snape was allowing him to have the lessons.

Harry wasn’t going to let Sirius die because of him. Harry smiled as he remembered that memory of his godfather in dog form. That morning had been one of the best in Harry’s life. He couldn’t remember any adult actually playing with him like Sirius had.

Harry settled more comfortably against the wall.

Harry turned his wandering thoughts back to the problem at hand. Would Snape act better or worse after seeing his memories?

Harry stood as he saw Ron and Hermione. Ron’s grin was a little wary, like he was unsure of Harry, and Hermione didn’t even look at him.

Hermione smiled carefully at him and Harry returned it with a cheery grin. He didn’t hug his friends often but he knew that Hermione didn’t feel uncomfortable by the way she hugged Harry back. They let go of each other before entering the Transfiguration classroom to see Ron grinning at them.

Harry tried to pay attention to the lesson, but his mind had other ideas. So many questions were bouncing around his head so that it made it impossible to think.

“….Animagus forms tomorrow,” Professor McGonagall was saying. Harry head shot up with sudden interest.

“What did she say about Animagus forms?” Harry whispered to Hermione. The glare that Hermione sent his way left Harry feeling properly scolded.

Even though Hermione was obviously mad at Harry for not paying attention, she couldn’t resist the chance to tell him something he didn’t know. “That’s what we will be studying tomorrow,” she whispered. “But you’re not going to remember any of it if you don’t learn how to pay attention.” McGonagall’s sharp ears picked up Hermione’s whisper.

“Miss Granger,” she said sternly, “don’t make me take points.”

With a pink blush Hermione nodded and bent her head back over her book. Harry did the same as McGonagall turned away. Maybe he could still learn something before the lesson was over besides how to make Hermione mad.

…………………………

Harry was eating later that evening in the Great Hall. Hermione was talking excitedly about a book she had read. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry behind Hermione’s back. Harry turned his face away to hide his grin. The head table caught his eye. McGonagall was talking crossly to Dumbledore. She waved her arms around in animated, angry motions to emphasize her point. Dumbledore didn’t seem affected by McGonagall’s anger and calmly talked back to her.

Harry noticed that Snape wasn’t at the table and he wondered if McGonagall’s conversation involved him.

“Wonder what that’s about,” Ron said and Harry turned to see him watching the head table also. Hermione was now talking to Ginny and didn’t notice.

“I don’t know,” Harry said glumly, “but I wish I did.” McGonagall abruptly got up from the table and walked stiffly out the door behind the teacher’s table. Harry and Ron disappointedly went back to their dinner.

……………………….

At ten minutes to eight, Harry got ready to head down towards the dungeons. Ron bid him goodbye with a grimace on his face and a grim “Good luck, mate.”

“Just don’t lose your temper Harry,” were Hermione’s unhelpful words. He exited the common room and made his way down the hall. Harry didn’t look back; the temptation of running and hiding under his bed would overwhelm him if he did.

And so, like a lamb walking to the slaughter, he descended into the dungeons. Harry knew he was being ridiculous. Snape wouldn’t kill him. Torture him without mercy maybe, but not kill him.

Harry had already practiced clearing his mind earlier. He had snuck away from Hermione and Ron to escape to his bed. With his privacy curtains drawn he had sat cross-legged on his bed and practiced hard.

Harry wasn’t sure if it had worked, but he had felt better afterwards just because he had tried. But now that it was time to test himself, Harry wasn’t sure he was ready. Harry reached Snape’s office sooner then he wanted to. The dark wooden door looked more foreboding then usual to Harry as he stood there nervously.

“I don’t have all night, Potter!” Harry jumped at the snide voice that came from the other side of the door. While the thick wood slightly muffled Snape’s voice, it certainly didn’t diminish any of the sharpness.

Not wanting to push Snape to anger prematurely, Harry opened the door. Snape didn’t even look up from the papers he was grading as Harry walked through the door. After quietly shutting the door Harry came to stand just a few feet in front of the Potions Master.

“Have you even practiced clearing your mind, Potter?” Snape asked sharply as he covered some poor soul’s asignment with red ink.

“I only tried once in the last few days sir,” Harry said truthfully. Snape’s quill seemed to still for a fraction of a second, it was so quick that Harry wasn’t sure if he had seen it.

Snape placed the quill beside the mountain-sized pile of papers and leaned back in his seat. Snape crossed his arms. The action made him look even sterner then usual and more intimidating. Harry hated feeling Snape’s dark gaze; it was almost like it could see right through him, but Harry met his eyes squarly.

“The potion you took this morning wasn’t the Cautus Monumentum.” The unexpected sentence left Harry feeling slightly lost.

“What?” he asked before remembering himself and adding, “Sir.”

Harry didn’t like the way Snape kept staring at him. He let his eyes slide away to focus right over the Professors shoulder.

“You did not prepare the Cautus Monumentum potion, nor did you drink it,” Snape said patiently.

When Harry didn’t say anything Snape continued.

“I’m surprised Miss Granger didn’t catch it, being the know-it-all that she is.”

Harry didn’t even think about defending his friend; too many questions were buzzing in his head. “What is it that I drank then sir?” Harry asked warily.

Snape looked away from Harry’s face to the papers on his desk. “A mild memory potion,” he said. “Not near as resilient as the Cautus Monumentum.”

Harry nodded without understanding. Snape seemed to know that Harry didn’t really understand, for his eyes narrowed as they came back up to study him.

“So,” Harry started nervously, “you were testing me?” Snape once again moved his eyes away from Harry’s.

“Yes,” he stated shortly. Harry couldn’t take the silence that folowed.

“Well, did I pass?” He asked rather impatiently. But at Snape’s sharp look and scowl he added a hasty “sir.”

Snape stood and Harry leaned back into his chair. The tall man came to stand in front of his desk just a few feet away from Harry.

“You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t,” he snapped out. Harry knew that but he had wanted to hear it from Snape.

Snape leaned forward and Harry found himself almost feeling scared of the menacing man. “I will try to teach you the art of Occlumency one last time,” he snarled.

“If you are not obedient and respectful, and if you do not apply yourself….” he trailed of and his soft tone suggested unimaginable horror. Harry found himself nodding vigorously at the tone and had to stop himself. “I will no longer waste my time trying to get this art into your thick skull.”

Harry didn’t move at the insult. He had too much at stake to go and lose his temper.

“If you do not show an improvement within the first week, then the next time you will see this room will be for detention.”

“Yes sir,” Harry said in understanding.

Snape straightened and drew his wand from his sleeve. Harry got up from the chair and did the same.

“Clear your mind, Potter,” Snape said. Harry gritted his teeth as he tried to concentrate. It had taken him minutes by himself just to get the feeling of composure. How was he supposed to feel calm when Snape was going to throw the stupid spell at him in any second?

“Are you ready, Potter?” Snape asked impatiently.

Harry wasn’t, but to say no might drive Snape to the edge so he nodded and momentarily closed his eyes while hurriedly trying to calm himself. Snape slowly pointed his wand at Harry.

A basilisk was lunging at Harry while Tom Riddle watched…Harry was telling a disbelieving Cedric about the first task…Ron was grabbing Harry’s arm, looking slightly green as he read the words that were carved into the skin of Harry’s hand. Harry tried to push Snape out of his head and but the memories kept playing.

He was six and Uncle Vernon was yelling at him….Draco Malfoy was taunting him on the train….He was catching the snitch and the whole of Gryffindor house was cheering.

Snape pulled out of his head and Harry found himself kneeling on hard stone. Hurriedly Harry got of the floor feeling Snape’s eyes on him the entire time.

“How do you clear your mind Potter?” Snape asked without a sneer on his face. Harry looked up at him with surprise. That’s it? No, ‘That was dreaful, you’re not worth the time I spend on you’? Just ‘How do you clear your mind?’

“I’m waiting,” Snape bit out.

“I try to--um--clear my mind of all emotion,” Harry stuttered. He had no idea how to do it. All he knew was that he was supposed to do it.

“I see,” Snape said quietly. Harry gulped and felt heat rise in his face when he realized it was audible.

Snape spun on his foot and with a sharp command to stay put, he left the room.

Snape came back in the room, driving all thoughts away from Harry’s mind with his appearance. Snape held out two books stiffly to Harry, his face once again emotionless. Harry took the books curiously with an inquiring look at his professor.

“I want you the first six chapters read in each book before your next lesson,” Snape said.

Harry nodded as he read the titles. There was Organizing the Mind by Miranda Marlfox and Occlumency: a Beginner’s Guide by Ewan d’Lacey.

“I’ll know if you have read them or not, Potter,” Snape growled and Harry looked up.

“Yes sir,” he said seriously. Snape studied him before spinning around to go sit at his desk. Harry watched as Snape pulled the pile of homework towards him. Recognizing his dismissal, Harry happily fled the office.

Harry looked at the books in his arms and wondered if they would help him. Harry hadn’t ever thought about looking for books on the subject of Occlumency. Curiosity overpowered Harry and he stopped walking as he flipped open one of the two books to a random page.

“Please--no,” Harry muttered in horror as he tried to decipher the words covering the page. It almost looked like it was written in a different language. The typeface was miniscule and the words used were like none Harry had ever seen. It was obviously written by either a master of Occlumency or somebody who had no idea what they were talking about.

Harry sighed and shut the book with disgust. He didn’t dare look in the other book--there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that it was written to same way. Harry resumed his walk, his feet fairly dragging on the stone.

The sense of accomplishment he had felt earlier was completely gone. How was he supposed to learn Occlumency from somebody who hated him? Harry sighed again as the door to the common room came into sight. Now he would have to deal with Ron and Hermione and answer all there questions.

Just as Harry had expected they would; Ron and Hermione started questioning him as soon as he entered the room.

“How did it go?” Hermione asked carefully from her seat on the couch as Harry sat across from her. Harry drew closer away from the prying ears and shrugged. “It was all right,” he said miserably. Hermione and Ron stared at him.

“You don’t seem very pleased,” Hermione said doubtfully and Ron nodded.

“What did the greasy git do this time?” he asked Harry with narrowed eyes.

“Nothing,” Harry muttered to his disbelieving friends. “What are those?” Hermione asked as she eyed the books still in Harry’s arms.

“Occlumency books Snape’s making me read,” Harry said as he handed them to her. Hermione flipped one open and her eyes lighted with intrest.

“Occlumency looks fasinating,” she said as her eyes raked hungrily over the page. Harry turned away grumpily and Ron rolled his eyes before moving back to his game of one-man chess.

“Well you go learn Occlumency, then. You can teach me, because I’m lost!” Harry said angrily.

Hermione looked at him with sympathy. “You want me to try and help you?”

Harry frowned. “No, I’ll do it myself,” he mumbled. Hermione doesn’t think I can do it by myself, he thought dejectedly.

But as he gathered his books he saw a hurt look on Hermione’s face. Harry sighed. “Thanks, Hermione, but I want to learn it myself,” he said.

Hermione still looked hurt so he added, “If I have any problems, can I come to you?” The change was immediate. Hermione brightened noticeably and Harry saw that Ron was grinning behind his hand.

“Of course you can, Harry,” Hermione said happily, a bright smile on her face.

“Great,” Harry said back with a smile of his own. “I’m going to study upstairs where it’s quieter.” Harry glanced at Fred and George, who sat in the corner of the room testing their inventions on themselves.

“See you later, mate,” Ron said as Harry left.

Upstairs a moment later, Harry settled himself on his bed. Pulling the hanging closed to make sure nothing distracted him, he sat crossed legged in the middle of the bed.

After getting comfortable, Harry decided to read the one he hadn’t opened earlier. Maybe it wouldn’t be as difficult to read.

Pulling Organizing the Mind closer to himself, Harry began to read the book, starting with the author’s note.

Harry stopped reading having already decided that he liked this book. If the author note was anything to go by, it might even be fun learning Occlumency. The author seemed likable and so far Harry understood what she meant.

Harry moved onto the first chapter feeling much better then he had before.

Harry closed his eyes and banged his head against the book. I go and think that maybe I had gotten away from it and look what happens, Harry thought ironically.

Not wanting to give up so soon, Harry turned back to the book.

Harry leaned back on his pillow thoughtfully. Where did he feel safe? Hogwarts, Harry thought momentarily before tossing that idea away. I’m not safe here, Voldemort, death eater wannabes around every corner. On that note Harry continued to search for a suitable secure place.

Five minutes later, Harry was starting to get frustrated. Everything he had thought of was shot down a moment later. Harry didn’t even say anything to Ron and Neville when they bid him good night awhile later.

Soon Harry was the only one not asleep and just listening to Ron snore was making him sleepy. I’ll figure it out tomorrow, Harry thought with a long yawn.

He didn’t even bother getting undressed and just put the books on his bedside table along with his glasses. If I don’t learn something from these books Snape’s going to quit on me, Harry remembered as he crawled under the covers.

Despite his troubled thoughts, Harry was asleep within a few minutes.

…………………………..

Harry sat up in bed with a gasp for breath. I’ve got to tell Dumbledore, he thought drowsily.

His hair was plastered to his forhead as sweat ran down his face. Harry struggled to kick the covers off and grab his glasses, which he could only see because of a beam of moonlight. In his haste, he fell off the bed. I really need to stop doing that, he though as he picked himself and put his glasses on.

He looked around. All his roommates were, amazingly, still asleep. Harry grabbed his wand from under his pillow and pulled the curtains back around his bed. Harry knew that If Ron found his bed empty in the middle of the night, he would cause an unnecessary panic.

Glad that he hadn’t changed before getting into bed, Harry headed for the door. Harry turned back around to grab the Marauder’s Map and his Invisibility Cloak. It wouldn’t be good if he ran into Filch or Umbridge. Throwing the cloak around his shoulders, Harry left.

Down the stairs, through ans empty common room and past the sleeping Fat Lady Harry went silently.

Unfolding the Marauder’s Map Harry found his way clear, except for Mrs. Norris in the corridor on front of Dumbledore’s office.

She was walking slowly down the corridor a few corridors away from the office when Harry came across her. Yellow eyes gazed in Harry’s direction curiously and she stood up, ready to fetch her owner. It was then that Harry lost the small battle between his fifteen-year-old self and the child still in him.

“Bark bark!” he yelled as he threw the cloak off himself in a flurry of motion. Harry’s eyes widened as Mrs. Norris jumped one, two, then three feet high. With her tail bigger then imaginable and the hair on her back raised she spat and hissed at Harry.

Harry burst out in laughter as the cat ran away. Returning to his mission, Harry took off once again for Dumbledores office, scolding himself for stopping in the first place.

He stopped in front of the two gargoyles and was about to name off all the candy he knew of when they parted to allow him entrance. Harry blinked before remembering himself and jumping up the stairs two at a time.

Harry didn’t even knock before entering Dumbledore’s office. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that his professor knew who was coming to see him. Harry had known Dumbledore long enough to know never to underestimate his old professor. For the same reason Harry also didn’t even think it odd that Dumbledore was up at this unnatural hour as he saw him sitting behind his desk. With a teacup in his hand and a relaxed position he began to speak.

Harry couldn’t help the hurt he felt when Dumbledore didn’t look at him as he spoke.

“Harry,” he said quietly as he stared into the cup in his wrinkled hands. “What brings you hear at this late hour?”

The urgency that Harry had felt earlier was almost subdued by Dumbledore’s calm tone.

“Voldemort’s going to attack Hogwarts,” Harry blurted out.

Dumbledore stilled and a voice behind Harry made him jump.

“I told you to clear your mind,” Snape snarled as he came out of the shadows. It was only then that Harry noticed the other teacup on Dumbledore’s desk. How did I miss that? Harry wondered.

“I tried,” Harry protested his voice just a little higher then usual.

Snape moved forward menacingly fists clenched at his sides. Harry stumbled backwards untill he hit the wall.

“Obviously you didn’t try hard enough,” he said sarcastically his face right in front of Harry.

“Severus.” The tired voice didn’t sound like Dumbledore, but that’s where it came from. And as Snape moved back reluctantly Harry really looked at Dumbledore. He looked old. Harry knew that Dumbledore was old, but he didn’t really look it when he was smiling and his eyes were twinkling. Harry also noticed that Fawkes was gone; it seemed that he had taken all the cheer out of Dumbledore’s office with him.

“Was it a vision?” Dumbledore asked patiently as he watched Snape, who was staring with narrowed eyes at Harry.

Harry focused on Dumbledore’s cup of tea to avoid Snape’s eyes.

“Yes,” Harry said, “Voldemort’s found a way into the castle. He’ll attack in a few days.”

Snape looked away from Harry for a second just to glance a Dumbledore. Harry felt that Snape and Dumbledore knew something if the silent conversation going on between them was anything to go by.

“But,” Harry continued in a quieter voice, “there was something else.”

Dumbledore shifted like he was going to turn and look at Harry but he stopped himself.

“While a large protion of the Death Eaters attack Hogwarts, Voldemort’s going to the Ministry of Magic.”

Snape jerked and Harry’s eyes snapped over to him.

“Why is Voldemort going there?” Harry asked slowly. Neithier of the men answered and Harry felt his frustration bubbling. He hated it when people ignored him. And he needed to know this kind of stuff; it was part of his life. “Is that where the weapon is hidden?”

Dumbledore stood up from his chair startling Harry.

“Thank you for informing me of this Harry,” he said briskly, “but Professor Snape and I will take it from here.”

Harry knew a dismissal when he saw one, but he wanted answers.

“What are you going to do about this?” Harry asked.

“Potter,” Snape said warningly but Harry stood his ground.

He was about to argue his right to know when Dumbledore held up his hand.

“I will inform the Order of this new information, and I will of course tell you anything you need to know, Harry, about our plans, but right now I suggest that you get some sleep.”

Harry couldn’t argue so he nodded and left the room feeling Snape’s eyes on him the whole time. The door shut behind him with a quick snap that made Harry wince.

He entered the common room through a grumpy Fat Lady. “This generation has no consideration for others,” she grumbled. With bleary eyes, he made his way up to his room. He could see Ron’s leg hanging over his bed through is hangings and wished that were him sleeping.

Harry realized just how early it was and groaned quietly. He hadn’t learned hardly anything in Occlumency, Snape was mad at him--again, and to top it off, he was about to drop dead from sleepiness.

But Harry discovered later that his discouraging thoughts kept him awake no matter how tired he felt. But--there was something else that kept him awake and Harry did not know what it was.

He got up out of bed to take a shower; hoping it would clear his mind. Today will be better, he thought in a vain attempt to cheer himself up.

How wrong he was.