The Stars Will Still Shine....

The next few days drifted past with Harry was content lazing away the time with his thoughts. Hermione still had a subscription to the Daily Prophet and it hadn't mentioned Voldemort. Sirius had written a few days after his visit. He was still fairly weak but gave some non-news about the Death Eaters: there had been no disappearances or attacks on Muggles. Sirius reckoned they were still licking their wounds after the battle at the Ministry. From the tone of his letter, he was sounding better than he had over the last year. Once his pardon came through, Harry hoped that he wouldn't be so prickly. Although, he admitted to himself, that he probably hadn't been the easiest person to get along with last year. Harry knew what it felt like to be locked up in a place that you hated and no-one allowing you to do anything or even telling you a thing in case you did something stupid.

A shout from the bottom of the stairs interrupted his thoughts. "Harry? HARRY!" As Harry came out of the guest room, Lia was halfway up the stairs. "Are you up for a picnic? It's such a lovely day and Stubbs Wood is rather nice at this time of year." Harry pushed aside his thoughts for another time, nodded and grinned. He pulled on his trainers and went downstairs. There was a whirl of activity in the kitchen and from the babble of conversation, Harry managed to work out that they were going to stop at Tesco's before going to Stubbs Wood. He helped to take plates and glasses in a basket out to the car with Lia, who only managed to nod her thanks as she was having a loud discussion with Mathew about whether they really needed three tubes of mustard. The Grangers definitely seemed to run on their own time.

Never before had Harry had been asked for his opinion on the shopping and have it actually listened to - even if it was only whether it was making a decision between plain or strawberry yoghurt. Just as Julliette was beginning to look a bit green about the edges Matthew pulled into the car park. They started to wander along the path and eventually, they found a spot overlooking the reservoir.

Halfway through a conversation with Matthew, where Matthew was sticking to his guns that cricket was far better than Quidditch, Harry suddenly felt a sharp stab of pain in his scar. Head spinning and no longer hearing anything anyone was saying, his stomach turned over and, turning, he retched. Vaguely aware that someone was talking at him but he could only concentrate on Voldemort, that he was furious with someone -Harry hadn't felt pain like this since the aftermath of the battle at the Ministry. He shook his head slightly to clear it as much to break the connection and looked up, only to see the Grangers looking at him anxiously. Hermione was the first to break the silence in a stammering voice. "Was it You-Know-Who?"

Harry nodded wearily. She continued, "You probably haven't been practising your Occlumency, have you? The minute we get home, you have to write to Professor Snape and apologise for whatever happened before. Sirius would tell you the same. Please, Harry." Harry made noises of agreement before Lia started fussing over him. He slept all the way back-if only to avoid all of the Granger women fussing over his health and how he clearly needed to eat more. He could just about cope when Hermione fussed - he wasn't sure he could manage two more of the same mould.

Harry could barely remember reaching the Granger household until he was marched to the dining table by Hermione and a quill and parchment was forced into his hands. "I don't care why your lessons stopped. Maybe Professor Snape thought you were ready but you quite clearly aren't. I've been reading all about Occlumency and you didn't have nearly enough lessons to have any hope of learning it properly." This was the closest Harry had ever heard Hermione criticise a teacher she had any respect for. And after the Marietta Edgecombe hex, he wasn't going to cross her. But he finally snapped. "Hermione! You hovering behind me is not helping. You don't have to read over my shoulder: I will show you before I send it. How about you go and make a cup of tea, hmmm?" Thankfully, Lia called from the kitchen for her to come and help with the unpacking. He looked up as she gave a little huff and gave a reassuring smile.

Professor Snape,

I apologise for disturbing you during the holidays. I also Furthermore, I apologise for the accident incident that occurred during my Remedial Potions lessons. It was possibly perhaps inconsiderate to take my anger out on you.

I am not my father and my relationship with you does not have anything to do with how my father and his friends treated you at school. Maybe we can reach a state of compromise.

Harry Potter

Harry carefully re-read the letter and no sooner than he put the placement down, Hermione, who had been hovering by the door, grabbed it and scanned it. She nodded, satisfied, and handed it back to Harry. "Do you want to use Ainia or is Hedwig about?" Harry paused and thought about it for a moment. "I'll use Ainia. Hedwig's too recognisable - I don't want anyone to be able to trace her."

The next few days passed and Harry grew increasingly anxious. Eventually, on the morning of the fourteenth, a regal looking eagle owl glided in through the kitchen window and landed in front of Harry on the dining table. After he had untied the letter and fed the owl a bit of toast as thanks, he flew off rather haughtily.

His stomach tightened and he knew the letter was from Snape. Who else would own an owl that could make a person feel about two inches high? He ripped open the letter and nearly had his elbow in the butter in the process.

Mr Potter,

After lengthy discussions with the Headmaster and completely contrary to my personal feelings, it has been decided that your lessons shall continue. It might be too much to expect a modicum of improvement since your last lesson. I'll be in touch with the timing of your first lesson when you return to the wizarding world.

As for your father and his followers - if only not to speak ill of the dead, the less said the better. They were arrogant enough to believe that rules would be bent for them as well.

Severus Snape

Harry had a funny feeling in his stomach and he couldn't work out whether it was good or not. He knew he needed these lessons but anticipating more time with Snape and hearing barbed comments about his father and Sirius made him feel ill. He hadn't been practising-he'd have to put some hard work in now. At least he didn't have detentions with Umbridge to worry about this year, he thought wryly.

He looked from his letter to see the inquiring expression on Hermione's face as she nursed her mug of tea. "He's giving me lessons again. But I'll need to practice before I see him again-if only to salvage some sense of pride. Do you have any books on Occlumency?" He couldn't help grinning as Hermione rattled off several titles he'd never heard of and hoped that she'd never change.

The rest of the day was spent packing with Harry hampered by Hermione coming in and saying things like, "You really ought to read this book. She does explain the theory rather well." Crookshanks had taken to coming in and sitting on his clothes every time Harry turned around. It didn't matter how many times he'd shooed that blasted thing out of the room Crookshanks just returned minutes later.

He finally finished his packing and settled down for bed. He had left a book out, one that had at least looked like it was written in English and not language that only academics could understand. He smoothed it open.

"Occlumency is the same branch of magic from which the Imperius curse is derived. Instead of forcing someone to do something against their will without their knowledge, they can feel you searching their mind for specific memories. Unlike Imperius, eye contact must be maintained.

Few can resist an Occulmens from searching their memories but there are ways of fighting it.

The first is to perform a jinx or hex on the caster and the second is to learn a form of Legilimency. The latter is more difficult as the wizard must have a strong hold on their emotions. To resist, they must first clear their mind of all emotion and once that has been achieved a mental wall can be placed around certain memories. Most find it easier to remove any memories that might prove troublesome and place them in a Pensieve.

Occlumency treads the fine line between the Light and Dark Arts. When consciously placed on an unwilling or unknowing person, the perpetrator is subject to deportment to Azkaban under Clause XXVIII, Paragraph MXI of the Act for the Misuse of Magic."