Apprentice Potter
Training Begins
By Draco664
Training begins
Though I'd hardly call them lessons, my apprenticeship began the next day with a rather more interesting session on Occlumancy. Since Snape had been my only teacher in that discipline so far, I literally had no idea there were other ways of teaching the skill, though I should have guessed there would be.
"You expend a great deal of energy when you raise your shields. Though resilient, a determined attacker could slip through." Zab lectured.
"Dumbledore couldn't slip past my defences at the hearing." I pointed out.
Zab nodded. "True, but I was referring to a more time-consuming method of attack. Remember, the majority of assaults which occlumancy defends against are discrete, and performed over a long time. Using the same amount of effort to defend against such an insidious attack would drain you beyond the point of exhaustion. We will discuss and practise that form of offensive magic another time. Right now, I'd like to refine your defensive-"
"What?" I blurted. "We're going to practise an attack?"
Zab raised his eyebrows. "I am not accustomed to being interrupted, young man." he said, his voice softer than the cover on last night's armchair, but carrying an unmistakable edge. "I will not tolerate the disrespect you seem to habitually show your instructors."
I blinked and swallowed, my face heating up. "I'm sorry. You just surprised me, that's all. I'll do my best to-"
"I am not interested in your apologies. Only your obedience."
Again, I swallowed, trying to move the lump of dread from my throat, and nodded.
"Good. As to the reason for your surprise, I do not expect anyone to be able to fend off an attack without at least a working knowledge of the intricacies involved in making that same attack on another. The current Ministry administration's ongoing disapproval of examining offensive magicks is misguided in the extreme."
I tilted my head to one side. "You are actually suggesting that I should learn the Dark Arts?"
Zab rolled his eyes. "Your exemplary score in your Defence OWL would seem to indicate that you already have more than just a passing familiarity with the Dark Arts."
"But I don't use them!"
"Really? Never?" Zab asked politely.
I ground my teeth together. "Well. Yes, I have used them." I admitted softly. "The Cruciatus curse." I clarified, more than a little apprehensive as to what his reaction would be.
Zab nodded, not the least perturbed. "To what effect?"
"Not much." I replied, thinking on just how quickly Bellatrix shrugged off my curse.
"Why do you think such a powerful curse had not much effect?"
I sighed, not wanting to remember the events at the Ministry. "I had only righteous anger, not hate, when I cast the spell."
"Ah. And what have you learned?"
I frowned, wondering what he was getting at. "That the curse needs hate to drive it properly." I offered.
Zab gave a little sigh of his own. "Specifically, yes, the Cruciatus is more potent when hate is used as an emotional amplifier, rather than righteous anger. But I was thinking of a more general lesson. On not just the Dark Arts either."
I shook my head slowly. "I'm sorry, I've missed it."
Zab nodded. "It will come to you. Of that I have no doubt. Now, explain to me what you understand to be the basics involved in defending the mind using Occlumancy."
~~~
Zab and I spent many hours over the next few days reviewing my knowledge and skill level with the various disciplines that made up the art of Occlumancy. His methods of teaching were similar to Snape only in that he made me practise the techniques before attacking me, but that was it.
Zab was gentle where Snape was blunt. Where Snape was repetitive, Zab changed tactics. Where Snape forced himself into my mind with the brutality of a rapist, Zab was subtle, insinuating his consciousness into my own time and time again. One technique was interesting in that he made no attempt to breach the walls I could erect around my mind. He seemed to lay his mind against my defences, and then remember things.
It sounds odd, but this method flickered tantalising images at the edge of my mind, just beyond the limits of my conscious, not unlike a dream you just couldn't quite remember on waking. It called to my curiosity, the same weakness Voldemort himself exploited over the year. I tended to find myself reaching out to the images, in an unconscious effort to work out exactly what they were. After the fifth time Zab easily breached my defences, we worked on a method of creating stronger mental walls, and practised ignoring things.
But the most amazing difference was that Zab expected me to use the very same techniques he was teaching me to defeat. Time after time, he would allow me to attempt to do the very thing he was doing to me.
It was quite fascinating how quickly I progressed when the teacher worked with me, rather than against me. By actually using the very same techniques to attempt to break into Zab's mind, I gained quite a few insights into how better to defend against him.
One thing that I didn't enjoy was Zab's other tests. He had Blaise fire harmless curses and hexes at me, ones that most second-years could easily defend against; spells that I thought I could defend against in my sleep. While my attention was focused on Blaise, Zab would again subtly try and break though to my mind.
It was one of the most difficult mental challenges I have ever attempted. The only other thing that could compare was the time in the graveyard after Voldemort had risen, when our wands were linked. The mental effort of forcing the golden beads away from me and towards Voldemort was just as mentally draining.
Blaise seemed to enjoy herself a bit too much during these sessions. Though she never tried to hurt me at all, she did find it amusing to catch me in a body bind or hit me with the jelly-legs jinx. I suppose it wouldn't be unlike someone watching a student deliberately trip over a judo expert. My scowl always sent her into gales of laughter, which in turn put a smile on Zab's face.
After what felt like the hundredth time I failed to keep Zab from my mind, I collapsed with a grunt into a heap on the ground, and wiped the sweat from my eyes. "I don't think I'm ready for this level of distraction, Master."
Zab nodded in agreement. "Indeed."
That put a frown on my face. I looked up at Blaise, only to note that she also looked a little confused. "Then why are we doing this?" I closed my eyes with a sigh. "I mean, then this just seems fruitless."
Zab strolled over to the side of the room and took a glass of water from the sideboard. Passing it to me, he said, "On the contrary, I believe it is indeed bearing fruit."
Blaise snorted. "Apples?"
Zab gave her what could only be described as 'a look'. "Thank you for your excellent and well thought-out input, young lady. Next time you have something of equal merit to add, do the world a favour and keep it to yourself."
Blaise just grinned back.
Zab turned back to me. "I think you've misunderstood the reason we are conducting these tests. Given that I had no expectation that you would even remotely get close to succeeding, why do you think I am allowing my Great-granddaughter to indulge her rather unladylike mischievous side?"
"Mischievous? Don't you mean malicious?" I retorted, directing my words with a grin at Blaise.
She gave me a pout.
"Possibly." Zab conceded, coming the closest he had ever done to answering one of my questions outright. "However, Blaise's psychological motivations aside, would you care to answer my question?"
I took a sip of the cool water while thinking deeply. After a few moments, I had still come up with nothing. "I suppose the obvious answer is to show me just how difficult Occlumancy is to use when you are focusing on something else." I looked up into Zab's eyes. "However, that is not the reason."
Zab nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Interesting. You are correct. While identifying the reason something is not occurring is not generally helpful, it can assist to logically deduce the reason something is occurring."
I licked my lips and frowned. "Perhaps it would help if you told me exactly what fruit my efforts were bearing."
"Probably."
I sighed at Zab's response. What was he trying to teach me? I thought back to when I told him about my training under Snape. My eyes snapped open wide. "You're trying to teach me how to use Occlumancy with a minimum of effort!" I blurted.
Zab smiled and nodded. "I told you earlier that you were expending far too much effort and energy on your mental defences. By putting you in a situation where you needed to focus on other dangers, you have been forced by necessity to use far less effort on Occlumancy."
Zab took my half finished glass of water. "Not an ideal method of breaking bad habits, but very effective. You either learn to use less power, or get hurt."
In our next session, to Blaise's dismay, instead of dividing my attention equally, I focused on evading her attacks, putting only what effort I could safely spare on my mental defences. While this meant that Zab was easily able to break through to start with, by the end of the week I was able to hold him at bay almost indefinitely while duelling.
In that first week, I found myself far better able to defend my mind against attacks, using only a fraction of the effort it used to take me.
~~~
Blaise and I grew more comfortable around each other over those first few days. Zab initially had me begin working early in the morning until mid-afternoon. Blaise and I would spend some time together as the summer sun silently drifted down to the horizon.
To my delight, Blaise turned out to be a better than average flier, and we spent many hours zooming around the quadrangle enclosed by the three wings of Zabini manor. Her cries of wonder at the capabilities of my Firebolt brought a smile to my face.
To Blaise's disgust, I had little to no interest in classic literary works. No matter how much she tried, I just couldn't get poetry. I couldn't write it, I couldn't understand it, I couldn't even make in enjoyable to her when I tried reading it.
That's not to say that we didn't get along. After the night spent in front of the fire, which (after we both woke up the next morning rather embarrassed) we didn't mention again, we spent quite a lot of time just talking. The tiny Slytherin witch was an amazingly complex character. The fact that she was still the only person in our year smaller than me was a bonus.
I had actually given some thought to her question; who would have been my Slytherin Ron and Hermione? Though we were not anywhere near as close, I could easily imagine cultivating a strong friendship with Blaise over time. If the Sorting Hat had overruled my objection during my sorting, I may have wondered who would have been my Gryffindor Zabini.
Thinking about Ron and Hermione made me slightly ashamed at myself. And, for some reason, thinking of Hermione made me not a little embarrassed. Each night after the night in front of the fire I dreamed of that very same scene. It was not unpleasant, but the sensations of a warm, soft body pressed against mine did make me think certain things that I really shouldn't. Not only that, but a few times in my dream, I lowered my head to kiss the top of Blaise's raven locks, only to find that the hair was rather bushy, not dark and straight.
Quite uncomfortable, having dreams like that about someone who you always thought of as a sister.
Made even more so by the fact that Zab had forbidden me from sending Hedwig with messages to my friends, saying that she was far too conspicuous. Not for the first time I wondered just who learned from the other, Moody or Zab.
For a while, I did wonder at the lack of messages from my friends, though when I mentioned it to Blaise, she gave me a look suggesting that I was in mortal danger of dying of low-IQ-pressure, and told me that no delivery owl could get through the wards around the unplottable manor unless specifically allowed. Only if an owl was particularly loyal, or very bright, would it be able to make its way to Zab's home.
I already knew about Hedwig's loyalty, and her intelligence. After all, she had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron before I got there after the incident with Aunt Marge before my third year. She also had far more personality than many of the owls I had met. I had told Blaise of the incident involving Hedwig, a partially digested meal and my Aunt's hair, only to have my new friend pay even more attention to my owl as a reward than before.
In an effort to be accommodating, Zab allowed me to take a couple of days off to visit my friends, giving both Blaise and I an emergency portkey which would immediately take us to the pub at which he met Moody and I, and a packet of his special floo each.
We flooed to the unnamed pub, and from there on to the Burrow. I had no idea how I would be received, not to mention Blaise.
~~~
I tumbled gracelessly out of the fireplace, though I did manage to catch my balance and prevent myself breaking my nose. The Burrow was curiously quiet, though a few moments after my arrival the silence was shattered as the ghoul upstairs let loose a shriek.
Oh, wait. It was a weekday. The twins would have been at work. That was why it was so quiet.
"Who's there?" asked a familiar voice.
Mrs. Weasley exited the kitchen, wiping one of her hands on her apron; the other held a wand. She took one look at me and instantly zoomed forward to engulf me in a bone-crushing hug. I swear if you put a family member she hadn't seen for a while at the end of a running track, the woman would give any muggle Olympic sprinter a very nasty shock.
"Harry, pet! We've been so worried! Where have you been? What happened?" she asked in a continuous stream.
I didn't get a chance to respond before Blaise tumbled out of the fireplace. Given that my face was currently pressed firmly into Mrs. Weasley's rather significant bosom, I missed seeing her arrival. I did here the thump though, as Blaise landed face first on the floor, as stiff as Neville had been after Hermione cast a full-body bind at him.
Mrs. Weasley gave a gasp, and thrust me behind her. "Harry! Run!"
I coughed. "It's OK, Mrs. Weasley. This is Blaise Zabini."
The look of consternation on her face gave me pause. "Harry, what on earth are you doing consorting with her?"
I caught my breath at that. I'd never heard such bigoted talk from her. "How dare you?" I steamed, my affection for Ron's mother quickly overtaken by my indignation. "I can't believe that you of all people would think like that! She's a Slytherin, not a Death Eater!"
She had the grace to look abashed. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's just a bit of a shock, that's all. Albus has been beside himself with worry, and now it turns out that you've been with a Slytherin all this time."
I pulled out my wand to release Blaise, but caught myself in time. "Um, could you please let her go?" I asked coldly.
Mrs. Weasley looked uncertain for a second, but nodded and cast the counter-charm. "I'm sorry, my dear. We've had to upgrade the security on our floo. Anyone we haven't specifically invited coming through the fireplace will be caught in a body-bind."
Blaise picked herself up, with not a small amount of surliness. "That's fine." she said insincerely. "I was always looking forward to enjoying a fabled Weasley welcoming party."
"Blaise!" I warned.
"What?" she retorted. "Why on earth would such a measure be needed?"
Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. "Since my family has been targeted. We caught two Death Eaters in the fireplace the first night we returned to The Burrow."
Blaise blinked, and actually looked down at her feet in shame. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley."
The Weasley matriarch waved the apology away. "Don't be silly, my dear. I've had to calm quite a few ruffled feathers over the last few weeks. Minister Fudge was quite put out that I couldn't instantly remember the counter-charm."
Both Blaise and I laughed at that. "How long did it take you to remember it?" I asked.
"Oh, not long." She said vaguely, with a particularly self-satisfied smile. "Only a few minutes. Four or five at the most. Well, maybe ten."
"Mrs. Weasley? I thought you had no idea where the twins get their personality from." I laughed.
She blushed. "You should go and let Ron and Hermione know that you are safe. They have been beside themselves. I'll let Albus know."
"No!" I snapped.
"What?"
"I don't want Dumbledore knowing where I am, or what I've been doing. You can tell him afterwards that I was here if you like, but I never want to see him again." I growled.
Mrs. Weasley looked at me blankly. "But Harry, he needs to know."
"No, he doesn't." I said flatly. "I realise that my hope never to see him again might be optimistic, but if I can avoid him for the next few years, I'll be more than satisfied."
She gave me a small frown of disapproval, but nodded shortly. "Go on outside. Ron, Ginny and Hermione are out there, de-gnoming the garden."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. Come on Blaise, this way."
Blaise quickly caught up and walked at my side. "Thanks for sticking up for me back there."
I nodded, still bemused that Mrs. Weasley would be so uninviting. "Just be prepared for an even more unfriendly welcome. Ron will probably go off his nut at you."
Blaise rolled her eyes. "Why did I even think about escorting you here?"
"Oh, you're my escort now?"
"Of course, Potter. We can't have someone as incompetent as you blundering around the floo network without help." she finished, a small smirk floating on her lips.
As blasé as she sounded, Blaise still took my hand for comfort as we exited The Burrow. I looked around the garden and saw my friends in one corner. Ron and Hermione appeared to be having another argument; Ginny was sitting on an old wooden bench enjoying the fireworks.
"Crookshanks shouldn't have been there!" Ron spluttered, waving his arms around.
"I'm sure you will be able to point out the sign that prohibits cats from sitting anywhere near you." Hermione retorted.
"Don't be silly, Hermione. I just wouldn't have trod on his tail if he wasn't under my feet!"
"You should watch were you're putting you great big feet!"
I grinned at Blaise, who smirked back and gave a low chuckle. "She's right, Ron. You really do have big feet." I offered from behind Hermione.
"See! Even Harry agrees wi-" Hermione started, before standing stock still and silent for all of one and half seconds. She then turned and leapt at me, throwing her arms around my neck and held on so tight that I could hardly breathe.
"Harry James Potter, you great prat! Where have you been? Have you any idea how worried I've been? Are you all right?" She pulled back so she could look at me in the eye. "Did it not occur to you to let me know what happened?"
I managed to extract myself enough to breathe with little difficulty, only to notice that my arrival hadn't been greeted with smiles all round. Blaise was giving Hermione a sour look, Ron was giving Blaise a sour look, and Ginny was giving me a sour look.
"What?" I croaked at the red-headed witch, hoping that at least, since I was the one apparently at fault, that I could sort out at least one problem.
"You made life unbearable around here by disappearing, then you just turn up, a smile on your face, and interrupt the best entertainment I've had all summer." she said in a faux annoyed voice.
Ron and Hermione flushed in tandem, while Ginny's expression cleared, and she gave me a wink and a smile. "I'm glad you're safe, but why didn't you tell us where you were?" she asked. Without waiting for me to reply, the youngest Weasley came over and kissed me on the cheek, earning her a glare from Blaise and Hermione.
Glare's I'm quite sure she noticed. Her eyes flickered quickly over both Blaise and Hermione's expressions, before she looked back to me and gave me a winsome smile.
Awkward was hardly a fair description of the situation. Oddly, it was Ron who came to my rescue, though not in the way I was expecting.
"Get off him, 'Mione. Let him breathe."
Hermione blinked, then blushed rather prettily, and let me go.
Ron stepped forward and landed a light punch in my stomach. Just hard enough to knock the wind out of me.
"Oof!" I grunted, doubling over. "Thought you... wanted me... to be able to... breathe."
"What sort of friend are you?" Ron snapped. "You leave your home without telling anyone where you are going, and don't answer owls! What the hell were you thinking?" He grabbed my shoulders and hauled me upright, then grabbed me in a rough hug. "Bloody hell, Harry! We were worried about you!"
Blaise scratched her head theatrically. "Potter, is this how your friends always greet you? Attempted strangulation, body blows, hugs and kisses? No wonder you have trouble opening up to new people."
I grunted with a scowl, still trying to get my breath back.
"What are you doing here, Zabini?" growled Ron with a sneer.
"I'm Potter's escort. I admit I'm doing a pretty poor job so far, since he's half dead after only ten seconds at the mercy of you, his friends." she replied easily, her tone light.
"Escort, Harry?" asked Hermione, confused.
I shook my head, and held Ron's shoulders at arms length. "Ron, it's good to see you." I smiled, then drove my knee rather satisfyingly into his thigh. "There. Now, we're even."
The red head yelped and let me go. "Hey! I only hit you because you didn't answer our letters!" he said, clutching at his thigh.
"You never wrote to me last summer." I reminded him.
"Really, Harry, that's hardly fair. Dumbledore forbade us to write to you." said Ginny easily, her eyes on her brother, her eyes betraying her obvious enjoyment at Ron's discomfort.
"Then did it occur to any of you that I was under the same restrictions?" I snapped, my patience nearing its end.
That brought them up short. Hermione especially looked quite embarrassed at not thinking of that scenario. Blaise gave them a superior smile. "I guess the Sorting Hat was right not to put any of you lot into Ravenclaw."
"Shut up, Zabini."
"Enough, Ron." I said, holding up a hand. "Blaise has helped me adjust to a difficult situation over the last few days. I'd appreciate it if you would treat her with respect, if not hospitality." I looked around at all my friends. "All of you."
Hermione grabbed a fistful of the front of my shirt. "Harry. Where. Have. You. Been?" asked Hermione, punctuating her words by shaking me in time, her tone leaving no room discussion.
I sighed and sat down on the rickety bench. Hermione let me go; it was either that or fall onto my lap. "I can't tell you, Hermione."
"Why not?"
I shrugged at Blaise, an identical smile playing on both our lips. "Well, I suppose a technical reason would be, because I don't exactly know."
Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I don't know where the place I have been staying is. I couldn't find it on a map."
"Oh." said Hermione, temporarily speechless.
"Oh, that was nice" whispered Blaise.
"What was nice?" snapped Ginny. I recognised the early signs of a shortening Weasley temper. Not that any Weasley apart from their father had anything but a short temper.
Blaise answered for me. "The place is unplottable, so you can't find it on a map anyway, even if you knew where it was."
"Well, are you back now? Where are you going to stay?" Ron asked. "We could put another bed in my room again."
I shook my head sadly. "Sorry guys, but I'm going back tonight. I suppose you'd say that Blaise and I are only on day release."
"You're staying together?" Hermione gasped, an odd tone in her voice.
"You sound worried at the prospect, Granger." noted Blaise with a smirk.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at my Slytherin friend. "Ron, take Harry and Ginny inside, would you?" she asked sweetly, not taking her eyes off Blaise.
Ron's eyes widened, but he recognised the steel in her voice. "Um, sure. Come on you two." he said. He hauled me to my feet and half propelled me towards The Burrow.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Dunno." replied Ron helpfully.
Ginny laced her arm though mine. "Come on. I'll tell you in a minute."
I glanced back at Blaise and shrugged, before being led away. "Tell me! What's going on?" I demanded of Ginny once we were out of earshot.
"You really don't have a sensitive bone in your body do you?" Ginny snapped. "What happened to your sense of responsibility?"
"Sorry." I snarled back, my tone indicating that I was anything but. "I must have lost it somewhere."
Ginny put her fists on her hips and turned to face me directly. "Don't take that tone with me. It may have escaped your notice, but there are some people in the world who care about what happens to you."
"You think I don't know that?" I blurted. "You almost got killed following me to the Ministry! You care about me enough that you risked everything to follow me on a fool's crusade!"
"Then why didn't you tell us where you were going?
"Because I was told not to! You're all fond of that excuse!"
Both Ginny and Ron assumed identical hurt expressions. I closed my eyes and sagged. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I know you wanted to write to me last summer, but damn it, I wanted to write to you over the last few days!"
Ginny pressed her lips together into a straight line. "Fine, but how to spoke to Dumbledore is not excusable! He saved us, if you care to remember."
I frowned. "What? Who told you how I spoke to that idiot?"
Ron gasped at my response, Ginny just narrowed her eyes. "I peaked through the keyhole and listened in one night when the Headmaster visited our parents. He showed them his pensieve, with you ranting and raving at him."
"Did you actually hear what I said to him?"
Ginny shook her head. "The twins were in the room with me, babbling about some photos of Snape or something. I kept trying to get them to shut up, but you know how hard that is."
I nodded, the memory of the twins taking photos of Snape dispelling my anger. "Were they trying to show you the pictures?"
Ginny shrugged. "Maybe. I just ignored them."
I gave a low chuckle. "Next time, look at what they are trying to show you. I guarantee you'll have a good laugh."
Ron tilted his head to one side. "You mean those made up photos of Snape they have?"
I raised my eyebrows. "Snape unconscious and bleeding from the nose and ears?"
Ron nodded. "They're the ones."
"They're not made up."
Ron blinked. "They're not?"
"Nope."
"How do you know?"
I smirked. "Because I knocked him out and left him like that."
Ron blinked, and sat down. "You?"
I nodded.
Ginny looked at me with an expression bordering on awe. Ron leapt to his feet and grabbed my shoulders, hoisting me into the air easily. "Way to go, Harry!" he whooped.
"Put me down, you prat!" I laughed at Ron's antics. Ginny was smiling too, and I couldn't help but notice just how impishly cute she was when she smiled. I'd not seen her smile often enough.
Ron dropped me, and I almost overbalanced. I reached out and pointed at Ginny. "You were going to tell me what was going on between Hermione and Blaise." I said.
She shrugged. "I'm not sure you're intelligent enough to understand." she sniffed in an offhand manner.
I looked to Ron for support, but just got a blank shrug for my trouble. Huffing a little, I turned back to Ginny and said, "Try me."
Ginny's smile grew broader. "You're such a boy!" Can't you tell when two girls are interested in you?"
I blinked. "Hermione doesn't like me that way." I said blankly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Potter, I had the biggest crush in existence on you for years, and you didn't even notice. Everyone made jokes about it, and you had no idea. I hardly think you've got the best track record of figuring out things like that."
I narrowed my own eyes at her, feeling the familiar bubbling rage grow. "It must be nice, being able to recognise when someone likes you. You'll have to forgive me, since I never received any affection at all until I went to Hogwarts."
Ginny blinked, and her face softened. "I'm sorry, Harry. But-"
"But what?" I snapped, interrupting her. "I've seen how your parents treat you! You're mother would have fought off a dozen dementors to get to you after Ron and I brought you out of the Chamber of Secrets! You've been totally loved all your life, I'm not surprised you can recognise it in an instant, Ginny! I sure as hell can't!"
Ron grabbed my shoulder, and it took all my willpower not to strike his hand away. "Easy, mate. She said she was sorry."
I blinked, realising that my breathing was deep and ragged, as though I'd just been through one of Oliver's insane training sessions. Ginny's eyes were wide with surprise, and perhaps a flicker of fear.
"What's happened to you?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
I snarled back at her. "I'm sick and tired of the wizarding world, Gin. I'm sick and tired of people blaming me for not knowing something, or punishing me for telling the truth. I'm sick of being seen as a hero when it is convenient, and a scapegoat when it isn't. I can't handle it any more." I snapped, all the while, my mind screaming at me that I shouldn't be saying this to her.
Ron gently squeezed my shoulder as a warning, but it wasn't necessary. I raised my hands and sighed. "I'm sorry Ginny. To you too, Ron. I had no right to take this out on you. You guys have been there for me when I needed you."
Ron cleared his throat. "Not always, I haven't. But I'll be there from now on."
I frowned and turned to face him. "What brought that on?"
Ron sighed and rolled back his sleaves. Raised red and purple welts criss-crossed his forearms. "Every day, I have to use six different salves and potions to cope with the pain. I have nightmares each night, about the Ministry. What's unexpected is that I've seen the same events from different people's perspective."
"Perspective?"
Ron nodded. "I've felt the curse that hit Hermione, the Cruciatus on Neville, and the, well, what happened to you. I've seen the world tilt and turn from Moody's blue eye as he was knocked out, and even felt the power and control that Dumbledore has when he cast spell after spell at the Death Eaters." Ron took a deep breath, and looked to Ginny for support. "Sometimes, I've even dreamed that I was the Death Eaters, casting those curses that I felt at the other end. I've lived that night from everyone's point of view, even..."
Icy fingers clutched my heart, and I just knew what he was trying to say. "Sirius?"
Ron just nodded. "He was so frightened that something was going to happen to you. But he was excited at the same time. It was the first time he had been out of the house for months, and he was just too, I don't know, eager.
I lowered my eyes, feeling tears form in the corners.
"I've only woke once, absolutely terrified though." Ron continued. "It is when I possess you, and taunt Dumbledore, trying to get him to kill you."
I gasped in shock. "You- you've dreamed you're... Voldemort?"
Ron flinched, but nodded. "He's scared of you, Harry. There is something about you that absolutely terrifies him. He really needed to know what was in that prophecy, and now that it's gone, he's really uncertain." Ron coughed and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I've also dreamed I was you, Harry. I felt everything you did. And I sure as hell don't deserve the sort of friendship you feel for me."
"What?"
"Do you remember our forth year?"
I grimaced. "You mean the time you didn't believe me about not putting my name in that bloody goblet?"
"Yeah." said Ron, clearly embarrassed. "I was so sure that it was you who wasn't being a friend. Like you wouldn't tell me how you put your name in. But during the dream where I was you, I learned just how you feel about all of us. I'm telling you now, you will never have to stand alone. I'll be beside you every bloody step of the way."
"How touching."
All three of us turned to see Blaise in the doorway, a lightly mocking expression on her face.
"Piss off, Zabini. Like you'd ever know what loyalty was," snapped Ron.
Blaise shrugged, completely unperturbed. "Whatever. Just thought I'd give you a head's up, Potter."
"What is it?"
"Dumbledore's here."
"Shit!" I spat, jumping to my feet. "Where is he?"
Blaise gave a snort, but I got a sense she was trying to pretend she wasn't impressed. "Trying to get past Granger. I'll have to give that girl credit, she can distract people on a mission like I've never seen."
"Why's she doing that?" asked Ron, clearly surprised.
Blaise gave him the same look she gave me when I expressed surprise at something she considered blatantly obvious. "So we can get the hell out of here without him seeing us."
I sighed, and nodded. "Sorry, you guys, but we've got to go."
Ron nodded, but Ginny still looked uncertain. "Why don't you just talk to him now, Harry?" she asked.
"Because there is nothing he can say that will make me change my mind." I replied simply.
Blaise stood up straight and led the way back to the living room, only to discover that Dumbledore had beaten us there.
"Ah, Harry. It is good to see that you are safe. And Miss Zabini? This is a rather interesting development."
The old fart was casually standing in front of the fire, but his stance betrayed his determination. "Yeah, well, we were just leaving." I said evenly, not looking into his eyes. Instinctively, I just knew this was going to end badly. Deep in my gut, a volcano of anger and hatred opened.
"Miss Zabini is of course welcome to depart if she wishes, but I'm afraid that I must insist that you return to your relatives for the duration of the summer."
"Insist away. I've already told you that I don't give a crap what you think anymore."
The vague expression of kindly bemusement that he normally wore was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a steely determination that would quite frankly have scared me, had I not been keeping my rage in check.
"It is for your own protection that you will return there, Harry."
My protection? I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, and my hands started twitching. "You'll have to forgive me for not trusting your definition of the word 'protection'. You seem to use a different meaning than everyone else in the world."
Once more in his presence, I felt him try to push himself into my mind. Keeping my face expressionless, I gently pushed up my shields.
"Despite your anger and frustrations, you do know that I am right."
"You were only right about one thing, and one thing only." I spat back.
"And what might that be?" he asked, curiosity tinting his steel tones.
"That I wasn't anywhere near as angry at you as I should have been."
The explosion of force that struck my mind was almost blinding. I grunted in surprise, but managed to keep the bastard out of my mind. "Find what you were looking for?" I snarled.
Dumbledore blinked. "Your Occlumancy skills have improved greatly. Who has been teaching you?"
That was the last straw. "Someone who would makes both you and Snape look like incompetent idiots when it comes to teaching." I snapped, and stopped restraining my anger. From the gasps of surprise from those in the room, I'd say physical manifestations of my anger were quite apparent.
His normally twinkling eyes narrowed; his aura almost visible, and certainly palpable. "Do not think that you can pit your skills against mine, Harry. As powerful as you are, you are still no match for me."
The lesson Zab was trying to teach me clicked in my mind.
"Shall we see?"