"That's not precisely what clearing your mind entails," Snape explained. "I spent a while today, thinking about your comments regarding last year's lessons, and doing some research. It is true that I was impatient for you to learn. I felt it most imperative that you exclude the Dark Lord from your mind at the earliest possible instant, and so I rushed you." He stopped, looking pained. "You said after your operation that no-one but Lupin had ever tutored you, which of course is not true, as I had also. But that you could believe that gave me food for thought, Harry. Last year, I resented your presence being foisted on me. I had no . . . understanding of you, not then. I thought of you as James, in fact. Your abominable behaviour, not practicing, not respecting my privacy, did not help."
"Right," Harry agreed, his hands coming to a halt atop his thighs. "I never said I'd been the perfect student."
"But more fundamental, perhaps, is this," his professor continued, his gaze like storm clouds held at bay by force of will. "Occlumency for me came as naturally as breathing. I have an innate facility for it, which is just as well, considering how often I must be in the Dark Lord's presence. Frankly, I expected you to be the same."
"Because I could produce a Patronus at thirteen?"
"I suppose that might have played a part; I did know you were a strong wizard. But mainly, Harry, I expected so much of you because it is difficult for me to imagine Occlumency being any sort of a challenge. Potions are the same. They make inherent sense to me."
"Well, they don't to me, or to Neville, or to Dean, or to pretty much anyone in sixth year except Malfoy and Hermione, you know."
"I am beginning to see," Snape obscurely answered. "At any rate, as concerns Occlumency, I have today consulted some texts by leading authorities. Teaching texts, Harry. We will not begin as we did last year. I see now that I was demanding you fly before you had even learned to crawl."
"So how do I learn to crawl?"
"By trusting me," Snape simply answered. "To teach you, I will have to be in your mind."
Harry's tongue felt thick in his throat. "Legilimency, again?"
"No, not that. I will not wring memories from you as before. It is more a case of sharing thoughts and working toward a common goal. But Harry, I cannot do this for you unless you let me. Hence the need for trust."
"Do you have several hours?" Harry weakly joked, then added, "No, that was stupid. I don't think you're going to--"
"Invade your mind for the purpose of opening it to the Dark Lord?"
Harry winced. "Geez, Dumbledore does tell you everything, I guess. No, I don't think that any longer. I remember the headmaster saying he trusted you, and I remember thinking what utter rot that was, and how I'd rather fling myself into a cellar stuffed with Devil's Snare than trust the likes of you, but . . . yeah, okay. I've grown up since then, I guess."
"You have," Snape confirmed. Drawing forth his wand once more, he waved it in a swirling motion and conjured two glasses filled with an amber liquid and clinking cubes of ice. One glass bobbed its way through the air over to Harry, and settled in his hand. When Harry sniffed it, he wrinkled his nose.
"It's very fine whiskey," Snape insisted. "Single malt."
"Not firewhiskey?"
"That has magical properties, so for now, you'd better drink the Muggle kind." He lifted his glass. "Cheers."
Harry sipped at it, made a face, and sipped a little more. "What are we celebrating?"
"We are relaxing," Snape explained. "Relaxation is conducive to the rest of the process. So drink your whiskey, Harry."
"You say that in the same tone Mrs Weasley says, 'Drink your pumpkin juice.'"
"Well, she cares for you too, I should imagine," Snape gruffly commented.
Without looking at Harry, then, he tilted his head back and downed his entire drink.
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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:
Chapter Sixteen: Occlude Your Mind
~
Comments most appreciated,
Aspen
Chapter 16: Occlude Your Mind
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=16
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A Year Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Sixteen: Occlude Your Mind
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"I do believe that's quite enough whiskey for now," Snape announced, leaning forward to pluck Harry's glass from his fingers. "We want you relaxed, not falling down drunk."
Harry giggled a little bit. "I only had one and a haff. No, two."
Snape pointed his wand at the hearth and set the fire alight with a quick Incendio, then seated himself cross-legged on the floor near the flames, gesturing for Harry to join him. When Harry sat down facing him, Snape indicated with a whirling motion of his fingers that the boy should spin around and scoot back.
"Is this comfortable for your hip?"
Harry had a feeling it wasn't, really, but everything had such a pleasant haze to it, after the whiskey, that he really wasn't too aware of it. He yawned a bit. "S'all right."
"Good. Now, lean back. Rest your weight on your palms if you like. I need to touch your temples."
After Harry had done as he was told, he felt cool fingertips sifting through his hair to massage both sides of his scalp. The feel of it seemed to revive him from the lull of the whiskey. Imagining the picture the two of them must make, he couldn't help but giggle again.
"Hmm?"
"Um, I was just thinking it's a good thing you didn't try this technique last year," Harry admitted. "I'm sure I'd have tried to hex you, and things would have gone from bad to worse. Though, I don't see how they could have got any worse in the end, actually."
"You're thinking of the pensieve?"
"No," Harry admitted. He'd been thinking of Sirius. "Did you use the pensieve before you came?"
"No, Harry," Snape's voice came across, a lazy drawl as his fingers continued to massage Harry's temples. "This won't be like that battle last year, when I would snatch your memories and feared you might do the same to me. This will be . . . harmonious. Now, stay relaxed. Lean back more if you like; you won't knock me over."
Harry let a little more of his weight fall onto his palms.
"Good," Snape soothed. "We're going to work on clearing your mind, Harry. It doesn't mean to think of nothing, not the way you took it to mean. It means to focus on one thing until it fills your whole mind, until there is no thought left, just an image that consumes you utterly. When done well, you'll cease to be aware even of the image, so completely will it block all thought."
"Uh-huh," Harry mumbled. He was losing himself in sensation, in the steady drone of his teacher's voice, and past all that, it was hard to concentrate. He shook his head a bit, trying to clear it, and Snape's fingers tightened on his temples.
"You were doing fine before," he said. "Relax, again."
But Harry couldn't. "You're practically putting me to sleep," he complained. "And I won't be able to follow your instructions."
"Stop tensing. You're doing fine, I said." With a slight oath, Snape stretched his legs out on either side of the boy, and pulled him fast against his chest. "Feel my breathing," he urged. "Match yours to mine. This is like hypnosis, Harry, have you heard of that? You don't need to concentrate on keeping your mind clear. You need to let go of thought and let me guide you to an image."