The wind twirled and danced invisible in the air but its power could be seen in what it affected around it. The leaves rustling on the trees, and branches swaying from side to side. The ripples and waves of the dark lake lapping softly against the shore. The sky was filled with soft fluffy clouds which swirled and twisted into numerous shapes. If one was to immerse oneself into nature, one would hear the variety of sounds and see the movement the wind caused around itself. It was nature’s song and dance. Graceful, elegant and strong. For something invisible, something which could only be felt by the stinging of cold rosy cheeks or the ruffling of their hair or seen as leaves swept by, it was powerful. It was a cold bitter day and snow still blanketed the area like glittering diamonds, but the wind had dominance this day.

One boy, who had just recently escaped the clutches of the one he liked to call “the embodiment of evil but on the good side” sat relaxed against his tree, wrapped up warmly this time, eyes closed; jet black hair unruly and utterly windswept and a serene expression gracing his small face. He was totally at home here after the last couple of days of stress, with his familiars surrounding him and back outside where he felt he belonged. He had finally gotten a used to his unique ability whereby he could see the living being that was Magic itself. And though he truly appreciated the glory and power of the mighty Hogwarts, in truth he preferred the subtle beauty that the outdoors had to offer. The subtle green glows of the forbidden forest, the blues of the lake and browns of the stone. It was a lot softer than the “in your face” power that Hogwarts steeped in.

His thoughts wandered back to the past few days. It had been hard. The result of his illness left him short of breath a lot of the time and any sort of upset could result in a panic attack and now, as well as the sudden assault of his new gift. Well everything was a lot to cope with and he found himself itching for his blade. He told himself he had this particular aspect of his life perfectly under control, but he knew he was deluding himself. He knew, from the simple fact that he couldn’t cope with things he previously would have brushed off without staining his sleeves red. He knew Madame Pomphrey and Snape would not have missed the vertical lines upon his arms whilst he was in the hospital wing, like they hadn’t missed the abuse when it was all but shoved in front of them he thought bitterly. The question was why and when. Why they hadn’t confronted him then and there and when would they, as he was without a doubt sure they would.

And then there was the ever enigma of Severus Snape. Was he being sincere in his harsh way, when he said he wanted to help? Could he trust him? What was he talking about, of course he couldn’t. He didn’t trust adults. Never! So what makes this different?

“The fact that you want to but you’re too scared. The fact that you’re sick and tired of going it alone. The fact that you finally want to spill all those secrets that have been eating away at you” a small voice at the back of his head stated. He shook his head vehemently in denial. No, he was fine just the way he was, wasn’t he. His hands automatically groped for the soft fur or feathers of his familiars, something which always managed to calm him when he was stressed. And as if sensing his upset, they all crowded around him offering him their comfort without hesitation. Funny how he could find such solace with animals, and not other people. Animals were uncomplicated, give them love and loyalty, care for them and they returned exactly what you gave. People where too complex and fickle and so for the moment he would stick with his familiars.

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A lone black figure could be seen shrouded by the shadows the trees and foliage provided nearby, eyes glinting like jewels within its depths. He was far from menacing, for dark did not necessarily mean evil. And yet he was still dangerous, not one to cross. However at this moment, he was lost in thought and his usual snarky façade had dropped. Concern dwelt in his eyes, as well as confusion and the source of his confusion was the small boy with emerald eyes so like his mothers, whom he was secretly looking out for.

He could not reconcile his previous notions and thoughts of the arrogant boy with whom he learnt the boy actually was, scared, lost and more than a little weary of his lot in life. He did not like being proven wrong, but Po-Harry always seemed to bring about motion and change.

One could see the effects the last couple of days had on upon him. He was still waif like and gaunt, and unnaturally pale. Some of the energy which he exuded naturally had gone and he looked somewhat ill. But one could also see little hints of recovery, whether it was the tinge of red creeping back into his cheeks, or his hair was slowly returning to its vibrant messy state. Or maybe it was even the small hint of a smile one could see lingering upon his face.

He sighed as he saw the dark thoughts pass over the boy’s face. The child wore his emotions on his sleeve, clear for all to see and yet they choose not to, hence the situation they were now in, the price for their ignorance. He sighed heavily as he watched his familiars hurry to comfort the child, and even nature itself seemed to bend towards him, doing their part in helping him yet again. This was more that could be said about them. And the moment of darkness passed. He sighed once more, something he felt he would be doing a lot more around this child and he slithered off, knowing Harry was in good hands. Hopefully Occlumency would have the double effect of helping the child’s nightmares and control his new power. They would see tonight.

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Harry hesitated, hand raised to knock upon the heavy wooden door. He was still apprehensive and wary of the potions master, and he wanted nothing more than to succumb to his instincts and just run. But another deep breath later and he knocked before he could chicken out, as the muggles say.

With a creak to rival even the scariest horrors, the door scraped open into darkness, a sole candle lighting the Potion’s Masters Office. This coincided perfectly with Harry would expect of the dungeons master. Dark and intimidating, without the cobwebs and coffins and yet oddly comforting. He was used to the dark and often found comfort and safety within its depths. He took a step inside the door, which swung shut automatically.

Within the next minute the Potion’s Master had stepped into the room from a back office and all the candles flared up, leaving Harry blinking erratically trying to get rid of his night vision. Once the spots had left his eyes, he caught sight of the room, which was actually pretty neutral in the light. Shades of brown and cream were dominant.

Snape gestured to the chair in front of him, “Sit Harry.”

Harry did so quietly, if a little wary of what was going to happen.

“Let me just explain a small bit about Occlumency as I know I never explained it properly to you last year.” With a nod of Harry’s head, he continued, “Occlumency is probably one of the highest and even hardest arts you may learn. It is an art of subtlety, strength and is highly susceptible to your emotions. Good emotions, feelings, memories etc. will strengthen it, whilst the opposite also holds true for the negative. It is essentially a defence mechanism for your mind, though in a very personal way. Each person’s defence is different. Some may use a manipulation of an element, a wall of fire, a desert, a barren plain, fog and such. Others may go for the more defence orientated, such as a force field around their mind, a fortress in which they barricade their mind, and so on. Any questions?”

Snape sat as relaxed as Harry had ever seen him, face devoid of emotions, purely set within the “good” teacher mode. It was actually more shocking to him to find that Snape could be a good teacher He was also slightly irritated that he hadn't explained this the year before. It would have made learning it a lot easier, even if the fault lay with both parties as to why he failed.

“Umm, yeah. So I understand the concept you just explained to me.” Snape raised a sleek eyebrow in mild disbelief at the word “concept” and Harry immediately got defensive. “Hey, I do have quite good vocabulary and may I remind you, you don’t know me at all.” Snape nodded, and Harry thought he saw a flicker of amusement in the black depths of his obsidian eyes. “Umm anyway, so I do understand what you’ve explained so far. What I don’t understand is how it would apply for me and seeing the magic around me.”

Snape nodded in understanding. “Essentially, Occlumency is explained as a shield around the mind. In reality however, it is a technique which provides you with great control over your mind. It is with this control that you can learn to protect your mind, misdirect intruders, organise your memories and even provide yourself with a greater focus for your studies. With this control you will become more in tune with your body through various forms of meditations and so you’ll also be able to focus on your new power and turn it on and off, as it were, at will. Is that clear?” Snape clarified.

“Yes Sir.”

“Right, let’s get started. First I want you to relax, take deep breaths and close your eyes.”

Harry immediately tensed. He didn’t know if he trusted Snape enough yet to close his eyes in his presence. He clutched the arms of the chair tightly, his whole body in defence mode. He couldn’t relax.

Snape immediately sensed his charges discomfort. “Po-Harry I know you don’t trust easily, if at all. But I assure you I will do you no harm intentionally ever. As a sign of faith I’ll place my wand by you on the desk." He did so with exaggerated motions, keeping his movements slow as Harry followed his hand’s path with shrewd eyes. “I know it mightn’t afford you much comfort knowing there are other ways to hurt you without a wand,” Harry flinched at the reminder, “but I will swear upon my magic if I have to, that I will not intentionally harm you.” He lifted his hands in a show of defence, slow and deliberately.

Harry had to think. He really didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t ready to trust anyone yet. But he needed to learn this. Ever since he entered the castle today, his eyes had become increasingly unfocused with the sheer intensity of the magic around. He spent most of the day on his bed in the dorm with his eyes closed. No one noticed, no one ever did these days. But he still didn’t want to spend his days shut up in his dorm any longer just because he couldn’t handle the power given to him. These thoughts flew around and around his head in circles. He was becoming distressed. Subconsciously he began to scratch quite intensely at his wrists.

Snape was concerned at how upset the boy had become and alarmed when he began to shred at his wrists quite automatically and without noticing he was even doing it. Gently and slowly he stretched out a hand and placed it softly upon the boy’s own to calm him. Despite this Harry flinched horribly and jerked from his grasp and then he realised what he was doing and reddened, embarrassed.

“Sorry Sir.” He said meekly. Snape merely nodded, not showing how disturbed he was at how meek the boy had become. He knew that they would have to talk about his self-harming, but he needed to establish some sort of trust first. And so he reluctantly let it go.

Harry was embarrassed that he let his guard down. He had been so careful over the years and now with everything he lost focus and let it overwhelm him. He ran a hand nervously through his hair, messing it up even more so than before if possible. Another less harmful nervous habit he had adopted.

“Harry, I am willing to take an Oath.” Snape reiterated. “Occlumency is based on trust. Something we need to develop. The only other option is to bring some other master in the subject in to teach you, but it would more than likely be someone you won’t know.”

Harry settled down slightly with a few deep breaths. He lifted his head determinedly, fire in his eyes, mask once again set. “No, that’s not necessary. I would prefer to keep this under wraps as much as possible and perhaps have the element of surprise for any enemies.”

Snape nodded, “That is wise. Are you willing to lend me a measure of your trust?” Snape was almost pleading. He wanted this to work, to give the boy a chance. To help him. To atone for his previous grieviances against the boy.

Another deep breath and Harry nodded slowly, but held up a hand to cut Snape off, “I will give my trust, without an Oath as I know how fickle these can be. However, do anything to abuse it, and I swear I’m gone from this hypocritical world. Understood?”

Snape agreed quickly, relieved to be given a chance and even more so without using an oath. He couldn’t keep up with the boy, however. He was ever changing. One minute he was meek, shy and obedient and on another level he was then assertive and unwilling to be pulled down again. It was giving him whip lash trying to read him.

“Ok, we’ll begin.” Snape started, “ I want you to close your eyes, relax and take deep breaths. Relax all your muscles, starting from your toes and working your way up…”

As Snape talked him through, Harry forced himself to relax and follow his instructions, once he had calmed himself, it became quite easy to forget that the voice belonged to Snape, to forget that Snape was even there. It was just a disembodied voice instructing him.

“…Once you have relaxed, feel how each muscle is as it is relaxed, feel the blood circulate through your body, feel the magic alive within you…”

At that, Harry felt a spark within him. Something energetic and buzzing, shooting from limb to limb, with no pattern at all. It was random and …colourful? With his eyes closed, deeply immersed in his meditative state, he followed the blurs of colours buzzing within his body. Deep purple, silver and gold, with hints of others. In fact once they reached places like his fingers and toes they fizzled outwards from his body before racing off again in another direction. It was magical. It was…..magic! Of course, this was his magic, the source of powers.

“…Keep your breathing steady and even, keep all those feelings within you and now let them go, slowly, one by one.”

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At what seemed an age Harry opened his eyes to find Snape correcting essays at his desk. He glanced at the clock above the mantle and he barely held back a squeak of shock. It had been two hours since he had come to the Potions Masters office.

Snape suddenly looked up and put his quill down. “Ah you’re out.” He caught Harry still staring at the clock, mouth agape with surprise. He almost chuckled with amusement. “Hmm, that’s perfectly normal. You’ve been in a trance for about an hour and half. So how do you feel?”

Harry collected himself and went to reply with his usual ‘fine’, but something stopped him mid-word and he frowned slightly as he tried to gauge the question. “I feel…I feel like…like I’m buzzing. Energetic.” He was confused, shouldn’t he feel tired or well just something else?

“Yes that’s how you should feel. Tell me what did you experience, so I know how far we’ve gotten.” He inquired, his long face resting upon his clasped hands.

“Well I completely and utterly relaxed, more than I have ever done so before. My muscles were completely limp. I felt calm and focused. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins and the magic darting in my bod-“

Snape shot up, suddenly alert. “Magic you say?” Harry nodded. “And you felt it?”

“And saw it Sir. Wonderful colours, shooting here and there behind my lids.”

Snape seemed almost in awe. “Saw it? Well Harry, I must say you have progressed more than I gave you credit for in the first lesson. I only expected you to get as far as feeling the blood rushing through your veins, and even then that was a might. Well done child.”

Harry felt himself fill up with a weird emotion; it was like he was floating in the clouds. It was pride. He was proud of what he achieved. And he was proud that a hard taskmaster such as Snape had acknowledged it.

“I want you to practice up as far as feeling the blood rush through your veins before going to bed every night. If you go any further, you’ll keep yourself awake with the buzz you’ll get from your magic. And again well done. You can head back to your dormitory.” And with a wave of his hand he dismissed him.

“Thank you, sir.” With a small grateful nod he closed the heavy door. Snape slumped down in his chair. Merlin above, he really shouldn’t have gotten as far as he had. It took wizards up to 3 weeks just to achieve that state. No one had ever done it in less than that. His body must already be in tune with magic. He was more powerful than he thought. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, releasing his pent up tension vigorously. He was glad Harry had given him a chance and that it had worked out well. Even better than he had hoped.

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“Harry.”

A whisper trailed across his subconscious. He was standing in a mysterious room of what looked like Hogwarts. There were antique bookshelves, filled with hundreds of books along one wall. An armoury, filled with hundreds of different weapons. A potions lab was in another corner, one that would send Snape green with envy. And then there was what looked like a section dedicated wholly to the study of plants and animals. In all it was a homely room with a roaring fire, exuding comfort and warmth. Above the mantle was what looked like four portraits? He edged closer, trying to capture any sort of detail to give him a hint of where he was.

“Haaaaarrrrryyyyy!”

He shot out of his bed, disturbing his familiars, the whisper still lingering in his ears. What a strange dream. It wasn’t menacing, quite the opposite. But the more he thought of it, the more the details seem to clarify, which was strange. He shook his head, as if to dispel the fluff between his ears. He quietly climbed out of bed, reassuring his disgruntled familiars, who quickly fell back to sleep. He crept over to the wide windowsill, pulling himself upon it, opening the window to feel the cool fresh wind. He stared out upon the grounds.

It was very early morning. The moon shone with a silver glow, bathing all in its path in a beautiful hue. He stared up at the sky, dwelling upon his strange dream, letting the stars guide his mind. He followed patterns in the sky with his eyes, longing to reach out and just fly away from all his troubles. The wind swirled again through his window and seemed to caress his cheeks. He shivered and he ached for freedom it represented. To fly in the wind and to catch its currents and take him to wherever it may. Away from his troubles, away from the war, away from his relatives, and away from his dream…..or was it a dream?