Sweet Resolve

You send your thieves to me silently stalking me dragging me into your war

Would you give me no choice in this I know you can't resist trying to re-open a sore

~~~

"I don't think you understand, sir, just how severe this could possibly be! No, no thank you, no tea for me." There were few times in his life when Snape was actually impressed or understood what all the commotion over one single boy was about. Despite his best efforts to think of Harry Potter with nothing but contempt, this was one of those times where Harry's skills were baffling him. "It's only been a few weeks, and yet he is practically at the same level as I am! He's caught me off guard one too many times for my liking, and even now... even now when I completely surprise him, he retaliates within seconds!"

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, eyes twinkling, sipping his lemon tea. "Well, shouldn't you be proud of that? It is what you both are working to accomplish, is it not?" Dumbledore said this with a hint of jubilance that he knew would irritate Snape.

"Of course sir, but the severe rapidity of it, it's just disconcerting. This whole situation is unsettling. He came to me, ME! Sought me out! And ... he even so much as said he trusted me most! When last year he was the most absurdly ridiculous student I ever had, now he is almost fully trained in legillimensy!" Snape huffed and puffed, seemingly ready to blow a house down. Dumbledore just lifted a plate to him. "No, for goodness sake no! I don't want a sugar cookie!"

Dumbledore just shrugged and donned a content little grin as he bit one. Snape seriously worried about the headmaster's mental health. Nevertheless, he pressed on.

"There's something else too, sir. I'm not sure what to make of it, but itjust has to involve Voldemort somehow." Dumbledore's interest was finally piqued, and he placed down the cookie.

"The few moments I do spend in his mind... well it's always the same thing. Always the same vision, and you know it is exceptionally rare to always end up in the same memory. Something seems to be consuming his every thought..." Snape finally sat down in defeat after pacing the office.

"Hmm, tell me, what is it you see there?"

"It's dark. I always end up in a chilling dark room, and as I circle around I finally catch sight of a lit wall in the distance, but before I can reach it, he forces me out. Yesterday he used a spell that's been out of use for hundreds of years too! Scelerisque purus. Where the hell did he learn it? I checked with Zalameen if she has been teaching ancient defense, but she said no. I asked him, he just said he read it in some book! Like Potter reads!" Snape threw his hands up in the air with a desperate look that was begging Dumbledore to explain the inner workings of his Golden Boy.

Dumbledore had no answer though. "He is just preparing, I assume. Wouldn't you prepare too, if you were in his shoes?" Dumbledore rose from his chair, and looked through some books on his shelf, a signal for Snape that the meeting was over. "Come to me if you learn more about the vision, I'm not sure what it means but we will work it out somehow. It won't do to ask him, he has shut himself up this year."

"Precisely. We all see it, he refuses to speak to anyone, he even shut his Gryffindor friends out! I just think we might have to consider that something, or someone may be taking hold of him... It was exceptionally dark in there." With that Snape strode to the door, but not before Dumbledore left him with a stern final thought.

"Don't assume too much, Severus. Look in his eyes; you see there is still purity there. He above all others wants peace, and I believe he will go to all lengths for it. Si vis pacem, para bellum." Dumbledore sat back down, and soon was lost in his reading. Snape just sighed, and hoped to God that Dumbledore was right, that Voldemort didn't have the upper hand here.

~~~

It was true that Harry was beginning to master Occlumency. He somehow even mustered up some protection spell he could have sworn he had not known the day before. But whenever a new session commenced with Snape, he would provide the greasy older man with a new spell up his sleeves. Once Harry had even thrown the spell the other way, pushing it with all his heart out of his own mind and right into Snape's, where he saw a slimy teenager dancing awkwardly with a very pretty but very disappointed looking girl.

Snape, of course, went ballistic. Surprisingly though, it was not because Harry witnessed yet another memory, but rather the choice of defense he had used. Harry, who could not explain where his expanding knowledge was finding its source, just claimed he read it in a book. Ha, Like I read books...

There was one book Harry was deeply interested in though. The 6^th year history book, Mythical Mystical Mages, a History. Currently Harry was carrying it with him back to the dorms. Today was a Hogsmeade weekend, but instead of taking the opportunity to escape school for a while, Harry instead relished the time with no one around to harass him or get on his nerves.

Most of the school had begun to look upon Harry with a fearful eye. Though he rarely showed any emotion and his eyes had taken on a more vacant look when around other people, there was an undeniable surge that passed through the corridors when Harry walked by. Even most of the Slytherins left him alone, but even so, Harry was unsure how to handle the constant waves of whispers and glances. He wished he could drown out all their idiocies, just flood them with a tempest and knock their brains around, making them understand that he didn't want to reside in their thoughts, at all.

But then there were the few who did make it a point to get in Harry's way. Namely, the 6^th year Gryffindors. A sense of betrayal floated like fog around them, clouding their hearts and their judgement. Ron, in particular, was seething with confusion and anger. So he led Dean and Seamus as they tried their best to upset Harry, throwing his belongings into disarray, ripping his homework asunder, placing hexes on his glasses to get stuck to his head.

They weren't Slytherins, so their pranks weren't exactly scathing and cunning, but it was done with an unspoken vehemence that was undeniable. What irked them the most was that Harry always recovered, and treated them with the same indifference. Even the girls were angered, and so Lavender and Parvati would distinctly comment on how lovely each boy was looking that day, ignoring Harry. Harry found more amusement than insult in this, as Ron's ears would always glow and Seamus would puff up like a blowfish in pride.

Now, weeks had passed, and Harry's outward complacency towards life was more and more ignored by the gryffindors. Ron still gave him deadly glares, and Hermione would snub her nose in defiance, though he detected a little bit more sentimentality in her, but other than that, they refused to acknowledge his existence. Oddly, only Neville looked on him, with a look of confusion, mixed with sadness, from which Harry would always look away.

The only real person he had to be wary of was Zabini. That kid hadn't left him alone for an instant- always throwing insults about his scar, his fatigue, his Muggle loving ass, and some more touchy matters as well. But Harry refused to get fired up, he would just remind himself that Zabini could not comprehend the notion of love and compassion, so would never know Sirius. As such, his words fell like dead leaves around Harry.

Even Malfoy wasn't as bad. Maybe it was just a hidden understanding they had from studying together so much, but there was a silence that would surround them and nothing could interfere. Harry had gained his footing and composure with Malfoy, after decidedly refusing various attempts by Malfoy for a smoke, or a swim, or quick fly around the field. Harry had resolved to have a cool demeanor to everyone, and he would remain as such. Malfoy did not press the matter.

Harry tried to ignore why Malfoy had tried in the first place. He also tried to ignore how Malfoy looked like a mythical angel in the sunlight, which was why he had come inside.

Malfoy had asked if he wanted to read or study outside in peace while everyone was gone.

"It would do you to get some sun, Potter. Unlike some of us, you are not blessed with beautiful pure skin. Pallor doesn't suit you." Malfoy had half-sneered.

Harry had agreed nonchalantly. He had not noticed Malfoy's disappointed expression, which had only lasted a millisecond of course. The shield was back up promptly.

"You needn't pity me with your presence if you would rather do something else Potter. You just happen to sleep in the library too much, and I would actually like to make progress on this blasted project of ours." Harry chuckled a little (Malfoy somehow was able to get him to show emotion once in a while, no matter what Harry did) and grabbed his books.

They had settled under a tree by the lake, as Malfoy began to prattle on about eagles supposedly being noble creatures.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. He could hear the water splashing against the rocks lightly, he could hear bugs crawling in the grass, he could hear the wind whistling through the leaves, weaving a pattern for the rest of nature to follow. It was strikingly melodious. It was the natural hymn of time, unfolding before him, exposing itself in all its glory, just so he could pull it in and let it wash over his soul. Harry felt a peaceful calm fall over him.

He snapped his eyes open when Malfoy chirped, "Did you feel that?!? Just now? It was like a blast of... pure unadulterated energy! Weird."

"Hmmm, Dumbledore could be experimenting. Nothing to get worked up over," Harry replied as he cracked open his book, and read on about the souls of lions.

"Ahh, here's something Malfoy. The union of animal souls can either diminish or heighten their raw talents. In this case, the lion and eagle are complete composite opposites. They are both rulers but of different worlds- land versus sky. So this connection makes their gifts stronger. Or some such stuff. You can read on. Here." He handed Malfoy the book, who gave him a look of frustration. Leave it to Har-Potter to have such a blasé attitude when he actually is getting somewhere. Pathetic prat.

Harry opted for his history book; it was far more appealing. Apparently the Mages were a race of sorcerers that tapped into wells of Magic that were hidden from the rest of the world, granting them with greater wisdom, awareness and understanding of their world. It also resulted in heightened emotions, which could be a drawback if they did not have complete control over it. Something compelled Harry to read on, like the words in the book were feeding his mind's hunger.

Mages were either inherently good or evil, as such they could harness the strength of certain emotions and utilize them for their own means. A good mage, for example, could not harness anger as a tool; it would be negated by the pure righteousness of his heart. However, by negating the surrounding anger, he could empty souls of such feelings and either replace it with something pure, or cast away evil altogether, depending on his control and intention. Mages were extremely powerful, especially in respect to their element. Various elements include but are not limited to water, fire, air, animals, wnd, earth. The Mage tapped into the source of his element, and engaged all his surroundings with this element. Some Mages could flood towns with a single tear; others could create an island with just the dirt on their feet.

"Wow," Harry was very impressed. It must have been amazing to be surrounded by these magnificent people. But then some were evil, and Harry wondered if Voldemort was really a Mage. He did not think Voldie was that powerful, he just liked to toot his own horn really. Voldemort lacked the class and nobility that these Mages, good or bad, must have harbored.

Harry was going to ask Malfoy if he was making progress with his reading, and if he knew about mages, but his voice caught in his throat when he lifted his head. Malfoy had his head bent in concentration as he wrote furiously. Apparently Harry guided him to something interesting. His hair fell softly around his narrow face, lips pursed and dusky eyes squinting in deliberation. With his back arched slightly against the tree, he had a feline quality to himself. Harry half-expected him to purr any moment. His arms were flexed as he scribbled down notes, and all in all he had the aura of a fallen angel, with the sunlight shining against his platinum hair. He looked up at Harry, who faltered and quickly dribbled out that he was heading to his dorms for a while. Abruptly Harry stood and left, not waiting for a response. Malfoy just looked at the departing figure with consternation, and then dismissed it.

Oh good lord, cannot will not go thinking down this road. NO! Of all people, why Malfoy???

~~~

Classes were becoming harder and harder, since with this year came the advent of O.W.L.s. After a particularly grueling Potions session, where a total of fifty points were deducted from Gryffindor, Harry stuck around for a few moments to slowly collect his papers and ask Malfoy when they would be meeting next. Malfoy was currently talking to Snape though, so Harry would have to wait. Instead he directed his attention to an argument held right outside the door.

"RON! Stop it! And lower your voice! You don't want anyone to hear this ridiculous talk, do you?" Hermione hissed.

Ron whispered back. "Oh fuck it all Hermione, if you can't interpret the differences, the changes, the fucking influences then you just aren't as smart as I thought you were!"

Harry knew they were talking about him, and it surprised him that they would dare have such a conversation for anyone to listen. There was some underlying point that Harry could just feel was more a private than public matter. He strained his ears to catch the rest of the conversation.

"How dare you question my abilities, when I'm the one being rational! He may be a total jerk right now, or just totally lost in his own world, but the Dark Arts!! Harry would never, EVER do that! Not after everything he has lost!" Well at least Hermione was considering how Harry was thinking. Unfortunately, he was pulled out of his reverie by Malfoy, who berated Harry for having hideous hair and a personality to match (usual Malfoy banter), and then said they should meet in the Library at 9:30 tonight.

"Right, works for me," Harry responded, wishing he could have caught the rest of the conversation.

"I don't care if it works for you or not, Potter. When will you ever learn?"

~~~

Harry was just about to enter the Great Hall for dinner that evening, when Neville exited, and he held a rare look of relief when he saw Harry!

"Hey, Harry," Neville caught his arm before Harry could get away. He didn't act completely aloof but rather regarded Neville in a slightly apathetic manner. Something told him Neville was better than all of this. "I would recommend not eating in there tonight. Hermione and Ron... well it seems they have finally had enough of each other. It's the worst fight anyone has ever witnessed, and I think you might be safer, and everyone might be calmer, if you just let them cool off on their own." Neville stepped back, letting Harry decide which direction he would walk.

He said nothing to Neville, but strode on just as Neville expected, straight to the kitchens. Neville was quick to catch the look of concern that flitted through Harry briefly, but maybe he was just imagining things.

~~~

Snape urgently tried to reach the wall or scour the surroundings more before he was hurtled out with resounding force. After pulling himself out of the chair behind him, he strode to where Harry was catching his breath, a slight sheen of sweat enhancing his scar.

"Well well Mr. Potter, you did quite well today. I don't think the lessons will need to continue for much longer. Which means you can start cleaning the potions laboratory soon." Harry noted the look in Snape's eyes as he towered above him. It wasn't concern, it wasn't fear, it wasn't confusion... or maybe it was a mix of all three. Harry just nodded.

"You can leave early tonight, but maybe you could tell me something. If you're so good at protecting your thoughts now, why are you still consumed by darkness?" Harry's eyes popped open in hesitation. "You wouldn't be keeping anything from us, now would you?" Snape cool, calculated voice sent shivers to the core of Harry's soul. The man was the paragon of intimidation. Well, after Voldemort, that is.

"No sir. It's just a dream is all. Has nothing to do with Voldemort. I'd let you know if something were amiss." Harry left Snape, who didn't quite believe his words, but knew there was some truth to it.

While Harry walked to the library, he thought about his lessons with Snape. They were working wonders. His scar did not burn anymore. It had on occasion sizzled with fury when he woke from a truly laborious nightmare, but now, that never happened. Secondly, the chill from the dream was gone- there was no distant voice ordering him around and giving him so-called advice. Harry felt freer, and lighter. He would wake up still panting from working so hard in his dream, but there was no hidden fear or frustration. He only felt a will, a determination to get through the wall.

So maybe Voldie was there, trying to get through... but to what? And Snape doesn't know, else he wouldn't have asked like that. So maybe, maybe Voldemort doesn't exactly know either... Or, he just hasn't informed anyone yet.

Harry knew the latter was more likely.

~~~

Malfoys don't sleep in libraries. Draco constantly scolded Harry with this mantra of his every time Harry woke from his slumber. Harry could not help but smirk when he looked up from his text and saw Draco hunched over folded arms, dozing peacefully, like an innocent cherub. Stop with that, Harry! You still know nothing about him, you can't develop feelings when you don't know any of his truths!

He picked up some of Draco's (Yes, Draco, not Malfoy) notes that weren't caught beneath his hands to see what he had been writing. Detailed analysis into the soul union of animals. "The eagle and the lion both embodied control as rulers of the sky and the land. As an added bonus, they represented the cosmos as symbols of the moon and the sun as well, further enhancing their bond. Natural complements in every form. Potter is really sweaty. What the hell are he and Snape really upto??" Harry snickered at the last comment. He was subconsciously glad that Draco noticed things about him. He had no idea that Malfoy had every intention of going out of his way to find out, though.

Harry was just about to wake Draco from his beauty sleep, when Draco began to stir. His face suddenly contorted in half fear, half anger as he started to rant.

"Fuck you, you think you're so great!!... Nothing but a lackey!.... Useless!... Better off dead.... Stay away.... I don't need you.... Fuck.... Voldemort.... MOM! Lucius! Harry! You'll pay! He'll never let you live!" Throughout his ramblings Harry was torn between trying to decipher the meaning and pulling him out of the nightmare. He couldn't let it go further, someone else might hear and Draco was starting to hyperventilate so he shook him.

"Draco, DRACO!" he whispered strongly. "WAKE UP!"

Draco's eyes shot opened, but instead of looking normal, his pupils were glowing with pure whiteness and the irises were a smoldering metallic gray, almost like molten metal.

Harry drew back but then he blinked and reached consciousness.

"Draco, are you ... are you all right?" Harry wanted to make sure he was okay, knowing full well what trauma dreams could have on people. Draco just dumbly nodded while trying to regain his composure, but then the words started to flood back to Harry, and he assaulted him with questions.

"Care to explain any of that?... I mean... Oh shit! You were talking to me, weren't you, you little shit! All this time I was starting to befriend you, in as much as I could allow it, and you go... and and... FUCK!" Harry's own eyes started to melt into an ocean of fury, the glint of gold returning. Draco was caught between trying to respond and backing away from Harry, as the table began to shake.

"No, N-No Harry, Y-You don't understand.... Give me a chance to .. to explain please..." Draco stammered. He was exhausted from the nightmare still, and this wasn't helping. Harry burst forth with anger.

"Shut up! NO explanations, I got it fully clear! I'm gonna pay huh? Is that it? Well fuck all this and fuck you Draco!" Harry's yelling suddenly fell into an ominous deep chilling whisper.

"You'd do well to keep away from me. And the name is Potter to you."

He pronounced the words so slowly, so articulately, that with every syllable, the table began to shake more, and by the end of it, all the books in nearby shelves had fallen.

Harry stormed out of the library, Madam Pince calling after him to clean up the mess, but to no avail. Draco just dropped his shoulders and sobbed tearlessly, crushing a letter in his hands.