Harry Potter and the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not

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CHAPTER FOUR

OCCLUMENCY REVISITED

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The next morning at breakfast Professor McGonagall handed out their new N.E.W.T. level class schedules. Now that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sixth years, they were only required to take what classes they would specifically need for their careers and could drop any others. Unfortunately for Harry, Auror training required potion-making, which meant another two years of suffering under Snape's tutelage. As Ron wanted to be an Auror, too, they were both in the same boat.

"Oh, great," Ron exclaimed sullenly. "Double Potions first thing." Harry looked at his schedule. He had decided to drop History of Magic, Astronomy, and of course, Divination. Harry felt quite glad that he would never have to sit through Professor Binn's monotonous drone or Professor Trelawney's dire warnings of death and mutilation ever again. Harry felt he had enough on his plate just trying to get through his other classes.

Hermione on the other hand had been hesitant to drop any of her multitude of classes as she had not decided on a career path, yet. She finally decided to drop History of Magic and Astronomy, but carried on with everything else. Even though Care of Magical Creatures was not a N.E.W.T. requirement for Auror training, Harry and Ron had continued to take it for Hagrid's sake.

Hermione leaned closer to Ron examining his schedule. "Well, at least we've all got Hagrid this afternoon," she said, encouragingly.

Down in the dungeons, Snape was just as cold and ominous as ever. If he was surprised that Harry had passed into N.E.W.T. level, he was hiding it behind his flashing dark eyes. Snape had apparently decided to ignore Harry whenever possible, just as he had last year after catching Harry in the Pensieve. Harry had witnessed Snape being tormented by his father, James, that day, and Snape had thrown him bodily from his office. No matter what Snape might think of him, however, Harry despised Snape even more. Harry would never forgive Snape for not coming to his aid when he thought Voldemort had trapped Sirius last year.

Harry tried to work quietly, focusing on his potion ingredients rather than on Snape's ugly face, but he felt such strong surges of hatred every time Snape walked by that it was difficult. Ron and Hermione sat on either side of Harry, flanking him. They seemed to think that Harry was only safe around Snape if there was some kind of buffer. At the end of the class, however, Harry had somehow managed to keep his temper under wraps.

It was not until he, Ron, and Hermione were taking their potion samples up front that Harry had his first encounter with his other rival, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was leaning against one of the front tables with his cronies, muttering something in low tones. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione came closer, a look of absolute malice crossed Malfoy's pinched face.

"Potter," Malfoy hissed, almost spitting the word.

Harry looked up at Malfoy's white blond head. "Yeah," he said, almost casually.

"You're going to pay, Potter, not everyone around here thinks you're such a tragic little hero," Malfoy sneered menacingly, Crabbe and Goyle by his side. Harry wondered fleetingly whether Malfoy's confident swagger had returned because his father had escaped from Azkaban, but Harry wasn't about to ask him.

Ron and Hermione had stepped up on either side of Harry, their fists around their wands, but Harry wasn't the least bit intimidated by Malfoy anymore. As they all stood there, Harry simply gave Malfoy a derisive snort of contempt and brushed right past him. Malfoy seemed incensed and was in the process of drawing his wand when the bell rang and Snape started to announce the homework assignment from the back of the room. Apparently this interruption stifled Malfoy's nerve, and he angrily shoved his wand back into his robes as everyone started to get up and leave. Harry left the dungeon quickly without looking back at either Malfoy or Snape, and Ron and Hermione were forced to run to catch up to him.

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After lunch Harry, Ron, and Hermione traipsed across the grounds to Hagrid's cabin. They had barely seen Hagrid during the summer, and Harry was anxious to ask him what he'd been up to. As Harry spotted Hagrid next to his front door, he felt very glad to see him. Harry looked around. It seemed Malfoy and his cronies hadn't decided to pursue Care of Magical Creatures as a career path; they were thankfully nowhere in sight.

As the small N.E.W.T. class formed around Hagrid's cabin, Hagrid beamed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "Good ter see you three." They all three beamed right back at him.

"How's your er... project in the forest going, Hagrid?" Hermione asked.

"Project? Oh yeah, project. Great, jus' great, loads better than las' year."

Harry, following Hermione's lead, began to wonder if Hagrid's busy summer had been due to Grawp, Hagrid's half-brother but full giant. But just as Harry opened his mouth to ask him something more specific, Hagrid left and said, "Jus' a mo' - better get goin'," as he ran into his cabin. When he emerged, something was perched upon his massive forearm. As Harry caught sight of the lovely scarlet and gold plumage, he cried out in surprise.

"Fawkes!"

"Yeah, Harry, today we'll be studyin' the phoenix," Hagrid said almost reverently, the corners of his dark beard crinkling upwards. Harry caught Ron's eye and grinned. Fawkes, as stunningly beautiful and majestic as he was, was downright tame compared with many of the magical creatures Hagrid had brought for them to study in the past. After a moment, Hagrid officially began the class. "Now, does anyone know wha' qualities make a phoenix special?"

Hermione's hand, as always, was first in the air - this time followed closely by Harry's.

"Go on then, Hermione," Hagrid said.

"The phoenix is known for its restorative song, its long life, and its feathers are used as magical cores in wand-making," Hermione spouted, sounding quite like the encyclopedia of knowledge that Harry and Ron already knew she was.

"Ten points ter Gryffindor," said Hagrid, with a grin. "Does anyone know wha' else the phoenix can do?" Hagrid asked, continuing.

"Well, they can also carry very heavy loads.... and I've seen Fawkes Apparate just about wherever he wants," Harry spoke up, thinking of when he had seen Fawkes in action. "Phoenix tears also have amazing healing powers," he finished.

"Well done, Harry, well done. Tha's another ten ter Gryffindor," Hagrid went on. "The phoenix is one o' the rarest and mos' unusual o' magical creatures. Fawkes here has bin known ter carry four people at once, an' his tears have healed everythin' from sprained ankles ter venomous bites. He's even rumored ter be over a thousan' years old, though no one else has bin aroun' long enough to confirm tha'. Fawkes belongs ter Professor Dumbledore an' he gave me special permission ter borrow him fer these advanced N.E.W.T. classes," Hagrid explained, setting Fawkes on a fence post. "Now why don' yeh all come up an' give him a pat."

As the class moved forward to pet Fawkes' always warm tail feathers, Hagrid motioned Harry to the side. "All righ' Harry?" he asked, looking into Harry's face carefully.

"Sure," Harry replied, rapidly changing the subject. "Say Hagrid, how is everything going with Grawp? Is that why you were hardly ever at er... I mean, is that why you were so busy this summer?" he asked, correcting himself, as Ron and Hermione came over to join them.

"Yeah, I couldn' stay away from the fores' too long, yeh know. But Grawpy's fine, Harry, jus' grand," Hagrid said, enthusiastically. Then lowering his voice, he added, "I've taken Buckbeak over ter his part o' the fores' - like a pet, see? They seem ter get on really well."

"Are you sure that that's wise, Hagrid?" Hermione asked in a rather distressed tone of voice.

"Oh, sure. Beaky loves bein' outside agin, and Grawpy's a lot calmer now. I think bein' together makes 'em happy," Hagrid answered. Harry noticed Hermione glancing at him furtively, but hearing about Buckbeak just now had actually made him feel better instead of worse. Harry looked specifically over at Hermione as he spoke.

"We're glad, Hagrid, really. Can Grawp speak English now? Does he understand what you tell him?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yeah, Harry, he's talkin' pretty good now. We've bin havin' lots o' conversations this whole summer."

"That's good," breathed Ron, giving Harry a relieved look. Last year Hagrid had asked the three of them to try to teach Grawp English, a terrifying feat none of them had really wanted to participate in.

>>>><<<<

As they sat down to dinner later discussing their first day of lessons, Dumbledore approached the Gryffindor table wearing deep burgundy robes. "Just wanted to remind you to stop by after dinner, Harry," Dumbledore said. "The password is 'Drooble's Best Blowing Gum,' by the way," he whispered, lowering his voice and smiling.

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered. But as Professor Dumbledore left, Harry's face fell. "Last year Occlumency always made me feel sick and shaky. I don't fancy going through all that again."

"Well, mate," Ron suggested, "maybe that was just because it was Snape."

"Maybe," Harry said, unconvinced.

Hermione looked as though she had wanted to argue with Ron when he'd mentioned Snape, but she had apparently if reluctantly decided to desist at the last moment. With an effort, she turned to Harry and advised, "Harry, if your scar hurts when you do Occlumency with Dumbledore, just tell him. Maybe there's a way to lessen the discomfort or something."

"Maybe," Harry said, again.

Harry wasn't really looking forward to this, but he felt it had to be done. He knew that this was an important step in fighting against Voldemort - not just now but in the future as well. When Harry arrived at Dumbledore's door, his headmaster was quick to answer.

"Ah, Harry, have a seat," Dumbledore began, smiling cordially at him as he let Harry in. He led Harry over to his desk and once they had both sat down, Dumbledore spoke. "First, I want to know what you've already learnt from Professor Snape."

"Well," Harry hesitated. Most of the time spent with Snape last year had ended up with Harry on the floor trying to recover as Snape viciously attacked his mind. Harry didn't want Dumbledore to think he wasn't up to this, however, so he tried to come up with a better answer. "He told me to empty my mind of thought and emotion," Harry answered him, a bit tentatively.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, "that is essential to a good Occlumens. What else?"

"Er..." Harry remembered Snape telling him to defend himself, but Snape had never given Harry any instruction in how to do it. "He said I should defend myself in any way I could think of."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, his face inscrutable. Then, "This is of the greatest significance, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking very seriously at him. "We are going to practice in a moment, but first you must know the proper steps. The first step is emptying your mind, but the next step is the most important. You must focus, Harry. Focus on your goal. Picture your mind as a tangible object you can physically see. Then in your mind's eye, picture yourself creating a shield, a barrier all the way around it. Make the shield sturdy, strong, impenetrable. Once you can do that, automatically and without thinking, I believe you should be able to thwart any external mental attacks."

Harry felt considerably better upon hearing this. Now that he actually knew what to do, he felt he had a better chance of success.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"I think so," Harry replied, trying to brace himself.

"Then raise your wand and stand, facing me," Dumbledore instructed, standing himself. "Now make your mind a blank slate, feel all your thoughts and emotions melting away. They are separate, apart," Dumbledore continued, in a soft voice. "Now build your barrier."

Harry pictured himself conjuring large heavy steel doors that went all the way around him.

"Now, when you hear the incantation, raise your wand and use your own strength of mind to protect yourself," Dumbledore explained. "When you are in this state, what you choose to do internally should manifest itself as a barrier. Your perceptions shall become your reality. Do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry responded, focusing his mind.

"I shall count to three, then utter the incantation. One... two... three... Legilimens!" Dumbledore said.

Harry felt the spell coming toward him, and he pictured it hitting the steel wall of doors he had placed around his mind, but the spell was too powerful. The next thing Harry saw was... Voldemort rising from the cauldron in the graveyard... then, Voldemort turning his wand on Ron and Hermione in his dream, the green light of death flying toward them... then - being wrapped again in the burning coils of a snakelike creature - their bodies were fused as Harry screamed in agony...

Harry looked up from the floor where he had fallen. Dumbledore was standing directly over him reaching for his arm.

"Are you hurt, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, sounding a bit worried, perhaps even fearful.

"Sorry," Harry said, gasping, his hand rubbing his scar as Dumbledore helped him into a cushioned chair. "I don't think I had my shield quite strong enough," Harry said shakily, trying to regain control. Harry gripped the arms of the chair to stop his hands from trembling. His scar was prickling painfully, but Harry was determined to succeed, to face his fear.

Dumbledore, however, had stopped. He had turned away from Harry and was facing the window looking out onto the dark grounds.

"Harry.... Is that what happened last time.... with Professor Snape?" Dumbledore's voice sounded funny to Harry, odd and distant.

"Well, it didn't go exactly like that," Harry answered. "The memories weren't all of Voldemort before. And well..." he hesitated, shivering. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to admit this. "This time it was much more... painful. But I'll be okay, let's try again - "

Instead of continuing, however, Dumbledore turned to face Harry looking very concerned. "I know this is difficult, Harry, but I need to know. Did you feel pain just now not only in your scar, but also like you were truly wrapped in those coils again?" Obviously Dumbledore had seen what Harry had remembered.

"Yes," Harry replied, a feeling of dread coming over him.

"Just as I feared," Dumbledore said, mysteriously, almost to himself. After a moment's musing, however, Dumbledore's manner changed. Quite abruptly, he swept over to Harry and looked piercingly into his face. "Harry, have you had any more flashes of Voldemort since your nightmare back at headquarters?" Dumbledore asked, sharply.

"No sir," Harry said, taken aback, "I'd have told you!"

"Well, I believe we may well have just gotten his attention once more," Dumbledore said.

"But how?" Harry sputtered, he had thought Occlumency was supposed to help him, not make matters worse.

"As I have said before, Harry, you and Voldemort have a connection that may never be fully understood. Somehow he can still reach you, even though he should not be able to," Dumbledore stated.

Harry peered up at his headmaster, feeling a horrible sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Quickly, he was compelled to finally voice the question that he had been bottling up inside himself ever since he had heard the prophecy last year. "How am I supposed to defeat him then, Professor? If I can't even keep him out of my mind - what's going to happen when we face each other again?" Without intending to, Harry had let some of the terror he was feeling about that final confrontation color his voice.

Dumbledore was now looking stricken, old, and frailly human. Harry had only seen him look like this once before at the end of last year after they had come back from the Ministry, and with a horrible abruptness, Harry knew why. He'd suddenly realized that he was completely alone in this, that there was nothing anybody anywhere could possibly do to really help him. Harry had just realized that if Voldemort were to walk in here right now, he wouldn't be able to defeat him - he knew that his enemy would kill him without so much as a second thought.

But before Harry's thoughts could travel down that path of destructive despair again, Fawkes came flying out of an unseen corner of Dumbledore's office. As Harry and Dumbledore watched, Fawkes landed on Harry's shoulder and sang two long peaceful notes. Harry found that his dark feelings of despair then evaporated into nothing - even his headache was gone.

"Fawkes," Harry whispered, as he extended his hand towards him. Harry sat there staring into Fawkes' bright eyes for a long moment as Dumbledore stood gazing down at the two of them. The frail, stricken look was gone from Dumbledore's face now, and he readjusted the spectacles on his crooked nose before slowly sitting down across from Harry once more.

"We shall find a way, Harry," Dumbledore said, simply. "Let's try again tomorrow evening."

"Okay, Professor," Harry said, feeling calmer. As Harry got up to leave, however, Dumbledore's voice stopped him as he reached the door. Harry glanced over into his headmaster's light blue eyes and noticed that some of their original twinkle had returned.

"Harry, do not forget," Dumbledore said in a quietly firm voice. "It may prove to be very dark before the light of dawn, but the dawn will always arrive, just the same."

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The next day Harry, Ron, and Hermione had N.E.W.T. level charms in the morning with Advanced Transfiguration in the afternoon. The day had dawned bright and sunny that morning, and as the three of them headed towards the Charms classroom the corridors were thick with the sounds of animated chatter both from the students walking to class and from the portraits that lined the stone corridors. Professor Flitwick had kindly congratulated the class for advancing to the N.E.W.T. level upon their arrival in class.

"We are going to be starting out this term with the highly useful 'locomotion charm' that allows the witch or wizard using it to move people across a short distance, such as the distance from one side of this room to the other." Professor Flitwick announced, in his squeaky voice. "Some of you have already achieved this, perhaps accidentally," he continued, looking at Harry's friend and fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, who grinned sheepishly. Neville had once sent Professor Flitwick across the room instead of the cushion he was bewitching. "But now we will attempt to control who moves and where they actually move to." A spattering of giggles punctuated the classroom.

Professor Flitwick had everyone pair up to practice. Ron and Hermione paired up next to Harry and Neville. Before last year, Harry might not have wanted to partner Neville while spell-casting. But after the D.A. meetings and the confrontation in the Ministry of Magic, Neville had demonstrated that he was now a much more competent and confident wizard then he had once been. Harry had spent his time almost exclusively in the company of Ron and Hermione since returning to Hogwarts, so he hadn't really had the chance to speak to Neville much, yet.

"How have you been, Harry?" Neville asked, as they got ready to practice.

"Okay, Neville. How was your summer?" Harry asked.

"Not bad, actually. I passed most of my O.W.L.s, so Gran was really pleased," Neville said, smiling. Neville seemed much taller than he had last year, and the overall pudginess of his frame seemed to have lessened so that he looked more mature and self-assured than Harry could ever remember seeing him. Harry smiled back at him as he continued. "See what I've got, Harry," Neville said excitedly, as he brandished an obviously brand new wand. "It's mahogany and phoenix feather, thirteen inches long."

"Yeah, Neville, that's a nice one," Harry said. Harry remembered that a Death Eater had broken Neville's old wand in the Ministry of Magic in June. The Death Eater had also managed to break Neville's nose, though thanks to Madam Pomfrey, you couldn't even tell now. "Er... what did your Gran say when she found out that your dad's old wand got broken?" Harry then asked, hesitantly. Neville's grandmother was a very formidable and somewhat frightening witch. Harry could well imagine her reaction. Neville frowned slightly.

"Well, she was upset at first, but once I'd explained everything she said she was quite proud of me," Neville said, in an almost disbelieving tone, as if he hardly dared believe that he could actually make somebody proud. "She's not angry at me at all, now."

Harry faced Neville as they got ready to try the new spell. Harry went first. "Locomotor-Corpus," he said the incantation. Neville's feet left the floor, and he went sailing smoothly across the length of the room. Next it was Neville's turn. Harry was impressed; Neville swiftly sent him across the room on his first try, as well.

"Well done, well done," Professor Flitwick cried from a nearby stack of books.

"Yeah, that was great, Neville," Harry said, clapping him on the back. Neville beamed at Harry brightly; he was beginning to look like he might just levitate without using magic at all.

Harry was feeling fairly upbeat as he, Ron, and Hermione sat down to lunch. Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor resident ghost, was sitting at the other end of the table speaking animatedly to a group of first and second years. Harry couldn't hear what he was saying, but when he flipped his almost completely severed head over the ruff of his collar, several of the surrounding students screamed. Harry grinned to himself, Nick sure did know how to make an impression. The weather was still bright and warm as the birds chirped happily outside, and they all ate with gusto. They had Advanced Transfiguration that afternoon. As the three of them entered the classroom, Professor McGonagall gave Harry a kind smile before assuming her regular stern teaching manner.

"This year," she began, "we will began learning about human transfiguration. It is extremely difficult, therefore, only the most dedicated and serious-minded witches and wizards will be able to succeed," McGonagall explained. "Transfiguring a person into something else is always a challenge, but for those of you who are facing certain labor-intensive careers, such as Healer or Auror, this skill is essential." The rest of the class was spent reading the theory as Professor McGonagall explained their first example in a series of complicated diagrams on the blackboard.

After Transfiguration Harry, Ron, and Hermione went down to dinner. Hermione was almost quaking with excitement. "Human transfiguration is going to be such a wonderfully interesting challenge," she said fervently, and Harry threw a quick glance at Ron. Hermione's fanaticism over school had been a standing joke between them for years, and when Ron then rolled his eyes at Harry melodramatically, Harry snorted rather loudly into his pumpkin juice. Harry tried to hide his amusement by taking a large bite of potatoes, but Hermione had already noticed, and she glared at Ron reproachfully.

"Oh honestly, Ron, you should be thrilled to learn this. This is a very important use of magic. It might even help you to become an Auror," she said, presumptuously. Ron now had his mouth too full of chicken to give a proper response, so Hermione turned to Harry instead. "You never told us how Occlumency went with Dumbledore last night, Harry."

Harry had been about to take another drink of juice, but he instead set the goblet back down on the table. He really hadn't had much time today to think about what had happened last night, or to consider how he was going to keep it from happening again tonight. Harry glanced up at the staff table. Dumbledore was getting up to leave. Harry swallowed loudly; Hermione and Ron were both looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, you know.... it went okay," Harry said, avoiding their eyes. Hermione frowned at him as if she knew he was being untruthful, but Ron said, "Well, I knew it would go better with Dumbledore. Snape's such a stupid git," he added, lowering his voice.

Almost as though he had heard Ron, Snape cast a look in their direction. As Harry met his eyes, Snape shot him a look of pure poison and Harry felt his temper rise. Snape was now getting to his feet - he was leaving the staff table as well. Hermione gave Ron a severe look. "You know Snape is on our side, Ron," but when she saw Harry's furious expression, Hermione added in an undertone, "I'm not saying that I like him, or that he isn't just plain spiteful at times, it's just...."

"I hate him," Harry interjected with such vehemence that Hermione was taken aback. Even Ron looked a little surprised. Harry still blamed Snape for ignoring his plea in Umbridge's office, even though Dumbledore had said Snape had notified the Order immediately about what was going on. Harry looked at his watch and hastily got up from the table.

"I've got to go," he said, shortly. Harry turned abruptly and completely ignored Ron and Hermione's wide-eyed expressions as he left the Great Hall heading for Dumbledore's office again.

Upon getting off the moving spiral staircase, Harry was so busy thinking of horrible things to do to Snape that he almost forgot to knock. When he went to reach for the griffin-shaped knocker, however, he realized that Dumbledore was talking to someone inside. Harry hesitated, listening.

"Honestly, Headmaster," said a menacing, calculated voice, "Potter is still just a boy, even if he fancies himself as more than that. Do you really think he stands a chance against the Dark Lord?" It was Snape.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, warningly. "Harry Potter is our only hope as you well know, and he is in terrible danger. Harry has proven himself capable of facing that danger already, but Voldemort is now trying to attack him from within. I must help him - we all must."

Harry waited a moment then rapped loudly on the door. Everything fell silent inside. When Snape saw Harry he narrowed his dark eyes at him menacingly once more.

"Harry, please come in," Dumbledore ushered him in. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," said Harry, trying to stifle his sudden feelings of resentment at what he had just heard. Snape was staring at him with every sign of great loathing. Harry stared right back.

"If you are finished, Severus," Dumbledore said, pointedly.

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape slinked out of the room.

Harry's hands had balled up into fists without his realizing it. When Dumbledore asked him if he was ready, Harry took a deep breath and tried to relax again. As Dumbledore then told him to empty his mind of all thought and emotion, Harry nodded, but he was finding that hard to do at the moment. Harry didn't want to disappoint Dumbledore, though, so he tried to ignore the bitter feelings welling up inside of him.

"Ready," Dumbledore said, "One... two... three... Legilimens!"

Harry was still too angry to concentrate on building his barrier properly. Next thing he knew.... he was looking down at his hands, his fingers were long and white like pale spiders.... then, he was telling the snake Nagini that she could eat Harry Potter, his voice coming out in a strange hiss.... then, he was a huge snake viciously biting into a sleepy Mr. Weasley, blood gushed past his fangs as Ron's dad screamed in pain...

Harry opened his stinging eyes and saw Dumbledore floating above him once more.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, as if from a long way off. "Harry...." Dumbledore said again, sounding anxious.

Harry sat up, then took a sharp intake of breath as Dumbledore's office spun around him violently - he had to work very hard not to vomit all over his headmaster. After a few touch and go moments it passed, and the room finally stopped spinning. Dumbledore was watching him carefully.

"Sorry," Harry said, trying to get off the floor.

Dumbledore helped him into the same cushioned chair. "Am I right in assuming that your mind was not quite empty of thought and emotion tonight, Harry?" he asked, quietly.

"Well...." Harry mumbled, slightly shamefaced. "I.... yes, sir."

"You should not be ashamed of the emotion itself, Harry. But to practice successful Occlumency, you must have a clear mind," Dumbledore admonished, not unkindly. Harry looked around his headmaster's office. The portraits surrounding them were continuing to pretend to snooze rather convincingly, looking placid and sedate. The shining silver instruments in the office were also making steadily calming noises, and as they continued to whir and puff gently on their spindly tables, Harry slowly began to feel better.

"Can we try again, sir?" he asked.

"First, I must ask you something, Harry. Every time that you have had these flashes of memory or dreams it has caused you to have pain in your scar, correct?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, wondering where this was going.

"And you told me back at headquarters that the pain was worse than before," Dumbledore continued.

"Yes," Harry answered, again.

"Was it worse tonight than it was last night?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry stopped to think a moment. "Actually, Professor, I think it's getting worse each time it happens." Harry paused, then he looked questioningly at Dumbledore, "Why is that?"

"There is no way to be completely certain, Harry," Dumbledore replied, pensively.

But Harry pushed him; he wanted answers, "Professor, please. I need to know. What do you think is happening?"

Dumbledore sighed. Slowly he looked into Harry's eyes. "Know this, I cannot be sure of anything. I am going to be completely honest with you. We are dealing with an unknown quantity here. No one has ever dealt with this kind of connection between two wizards before." Harry watched as Dumbledore took a seat across from him again. "I believe, however, that this increase in intensity that you are feeling from these flashes may be related to the prophecy."

"The prophecy?" Harry repeated, confused.

"Yes. You may remember that it states that 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' That is why he had to release you so quickly when he possessed you last June, Harry. I believe that neither of you can stand to be around the other without certain consequences," Dumbledore continued. "For you it is pain and sickness, for Voldemort, I am not sure. Suffice it to say that I believe the prophecy is being fulfilled."

Dumbledore then fell quiet, apparently lost in thought. Harry sat very still. He thought about how he had felt every time he had had any contact with Voldemort. It was most definitely getting worse. With each encounter it was becoming increasingly difficult for Harry to function because of the amount of pain he was in. But Voldemort didn't seem to be affected at all. Other than not being able to stay in possession of Harry for very long in the Ministry of Magic, Voldemort seemed perfectly capable of doing whatever he wanted. Harry had come to an inescapable conclusion.

"He's going to kill me, then.... Isn't he, Professor," Harry said, it was not a question. Dumbledore had been looking at Harry when he had said this. His normally calm blue gaze was shadowed with fear, the usual twinkle in his eyes completely gone. Harry could see it in Dumbledore's ancient face, that was exactly what his headmaster was afraid of.

"I do not know, Harry," he said finally, looking away. They both sat silently for some time, neither of them willing to speak. Finally, however, Dumbledore seemed to shake himself out of his reverie; his deeply lined face seemed to gather strength and tenacity, and when he looked at Harry again there was a powerful fire in his eyes.

"NO!" Dumbledore said unexpectedly, standing up and slamming his fist upon his desk, causing Harry to jump. "I refuse to let that happen!" Dumbledore said firmly, almost angrily.

"Get up, Harry," he ordered. Harry stood. "Now, we are NOT going to let Voldemort win. You are going to defeat him, and I am going to help you in every way I possibly can," Dumbledore said, fiercely. Harry had rarely seen Dumbledore this way, but it inspired him to tackle what lay ahead.

"We will succeed in this, Harry, we must," he said, and Harry felt a surge of determination that could not be broken. "I will count to three again. One... two... three... Legilimens!"

This time it was different. This time when Harry built the barrier in his mind, it was infinitely thicker than before. Harry pictured the spell hitting the barrier, but instead of penetrating it, it was stopped and reduced to smoke. Dumbledore tried it again, and again Harry was able to stop it. On Dumbledore's third attempt, Harry didn't let the spell get anywhere near his mind; he stopped it from a distance and it dissolved into nothing.

Harry's mind was reeling; he finally knew what to do. Harry stared at Dumbledore in utter amazement - he felt more powerful than he had ever felt in his life. Harry found that he was grinning very broadly, and he suddenly jumped in the air whooping with delight at his success.
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore cheered. "I knew you could do it!" The brightest smile Harry could ever remember Dumbledore wearing was across his face as he then looked at him, beaming with pride.

Harry left Dumbledore feeling more confident than he could've imagined possible. That night as he tiptoed past the sleeping Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus and into his own four-poster, Harry smiled to himself optimistically. Harry was now feeling an emotion that he hadn't felt since he had lost Sirius last June. Hope.