Another glimmer of pride, and Harry could not help but stand straighter under the ghost's regard. "Yes."
"It was Dumbledore, right?"
The Baron inclined his head minutely.
"But, why wouldn't the Headmaster want me to know he sent it?" Harry bundled up the cloak and tucked it into his trunk so he wouldn't be tempted to leave the dorms, even when he knew Snape would be angry if he did it. Tucking the slippery material under his spare socks, so it wouldn't be seen easily by anyone who happened to open his trunk, Harry peered over his shoulder at the ghost, who had moved farther into the room and was inspecting his box of frogs, which was already almost half empty. "Or is it that he didn't want me to know that my father left it with him?"
"The latter," the ghost said again.
"Weird," Harry muttered, and wondered why Dumbledore might want to keep such a secret. For just a moment, he had the odd thought that Dumbledore would rather have kept the cloak and not given it up, but then had been required to, by someone . . . or something. An oath, perhaps? He shook his head, pushing thoughts like that aside. No matter what life the Headmaster may have condemned Harry to with the Dursleys, he did not strike Harry as a common thief, to steal from the dead. Frowning still, Harry sat on his bed again, pulling the book by Keating into his lap. "What do you think he meant by, 'Use it well'? He told me to use the cloak well, in the note he left with it."
"I cannot answer that question for you," the Bloody Baron said in an oddly strained voice. "He wishes you to discover that for yourself as well."
"Yeah, and get myself strung up by the toes by my Head of House." Harry shivered and leaned back against his pillows. "No, thanks."
The Bloody Baron floated to the bedside and looked at the book in Harry's hands. "A gift from Severus Snape?"
Unable to hold in a grin, Harry nodded. "Yeah. For Christmas. We have our first Occlumency lesson tomorrow. I figured to read the first chapter tonight; he said it would help."
"I am sure it will."
"Do you know anything about Occlumency?"
The ghost looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head slowly. "Not through personal experience."
"But you know people who've learned it?" Harry pushed.
"Besides your Professor Snape?" the Baron asked with a raised brow.
"Well, yeah." Harry turned to the table of contents and read through it again, then opened to the introduction and started reading.
It had been quiet for long enough that Harry had nearly forgotten that the Bloody Baron was in his room, never mind that he had asked a question. Thus, he was surprised enough to startle when the ghost said, in a low, weighty tone, "I do, child. Both Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle learned the magic necessary to protect their minds against intrusion, but more importantly, they both mastered the magic that allows them to enter others' minds, to prey upon your mind, to seek the truth in your thoughts and to mine your memories for information."
As he spoke, the ghost had floated closer to Harry's bed, and then straight into it, so his glowing body was actually split by the bed. A shimmering mist surrounded the Baron, and in the suddenly freezing air, hoarfrost rippled out from the ghost's translucent to form feathery patterns across the bedclothes. Crystals of ice sparkled in the cloth. The Baron's haunted silver eyes were mere inches away from Harry's now, and were so filled with torment and horror that Harry's heart lurched in his chest.
"T-tom Riddle?" Harry whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from the Baron's terrible gaze, unable, almost, to breathe. His throat stung with cold, and goose bumps had risen on his arms. Shivering hard, he hugged his arms around his middle.
The ghost's mouth was so close, Harry could have counted his teeth, and he would swear he could feel the Baron's frigid breath on his cheeks as the ghost intoned, "Tom Riddle is one of the greatest wizards of all time, Harry Potter, and one of the most terrible. A Slytherin of great cunning and cruelty, and even greater ambition. He would cheat death, if he could, and destroy any who got in his way."
"Voldemort," Harry guessed, knowing he was right.
The ghost's eyes bored into him. "You must guard your mind against him, and against the dreams he awakens inside you. You must."
Harry clutched the book on Occlumency to his chest and forced himself to draw a lungful of painfully freezing air. "I will. I swear."
A bright flash of light made Harry squeeze his eyes shut, and when he opened them a moment later, the Bloody Baron was gone. Usually the Baron floated away, through a door or wall, although every once in a while, he would do a slow fade into nothingness. Harry had never before seen him disappear instantly like that. Even worse, though, was the realization that the Baron was obviously nervous about something, perhaps even afraid of Voldemort . . . or rather, Tom Riddle. Considering Voldemort had murdered at least two people -- and probably lots more, to hear Draco's occasional stories -- he was obviously dangerous and probably a psychopath. But that did not explain why a ghost would fear him.
With trembling hands, Harry opened his book again and studied intensely for several hours before falling asleep.
TBC . . .
2nd A/N: I am so sorry it was so long between chapters. Three months? What is that? Sheesh. But my thanks to everyone who reads and/or reviews! Thanks, too, for those who have wished me well for my health. I'd like to be doing better than I am, but all good things in time, I suppose.
The next couple chapters will cover the first Occlumency lesson, plus the discovery of a particular mirror.
*Chapter 42*: Chapter 42
Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 42
By jharad17
Disclaimer: None of this is mine!
Warnings: language
--
Previously on Better Be Slytherin:
Harry clutched the book on Occlumency to his chest and forced himself to draw a lungful of painfully freezing air. "I will. I swear."
A bright flash of light made Harry squeeze his eyes shut, and when he opened them a moment later, the Bloody Baron was gone.
HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS
An explosive BOOM rocked Severus' chambers, but before he had a chance to rise from his chair and investigate, the concurrent flash of light nearly blinded him. He blinked hard once, then once more. When he could see again, the Bloody Baron was hovering directly in front of him, silver blood pouring from his chest, and looking nervous . . . which, for anyone else, was the equivalent of panicked.
"What is going on here?" Severus demanded, drawing himself up and tightening the belt on his dressing gown as if it were armor. Never let it be said he lost his composure in a crisis.
"I have just left Harry Potter," the ghost intoned, as if that were enough of an answer. In a way, it was.
Severus gave his end table a significant look, where a vase of dried flowers and a wine glass had both fallen over due to the ghost's concussive entrance. "You left his room intact, I imagine."
"I would have to check to make certain. . . ." Severus was half way to the door, before the ghost finished with, "But I have no reason to believe otherwise."
"Despite the manner of your arrival in my chambers."
"Indeed." The ghost was gradually becoming less . . . frazzled. He peered at the side table then gave Severus an apologetic look.
Severus waved him off, then used his wand to banish the mess and turned back to his chair. "Tell me what happened."
"Harry Potter made a Wizard's Oath."
In the process of sitting back down by the fire, Severus froze. "He what?" His question came out strangled. How could the boy have done something so stupid? And since dinner? Fists clenched, he strode to the door, ready to wrangle a moment's peace from The Boy Who Would Not Leave Bloody Well Alone if he had to put him in a Body Bind to do it.