Harry Potter and the Vitrum Immortalitatis

Chapter Five

Harry woke to the sound of hushed voices. As far as he could tell, he was lying on a sofa, and hoped it was not the one in the library. He had a hazy memory, insubstantial as a dream, of taunting Snape, and something about one of Ron's brothers. His eyes snapped open as the memories returned to him in a rush.

"Oh, no," he groaned.

"Ah, Harry, you're awake." Dumbledore leaned over him, flashing a friendly smile. He pulled a chair up beside the couch and sat heavily. "Severus, would you leave us for a moment?"

"Headmaster, I–"

"Thank you. I'll see you at Hogwarts."

Snape sneered, but left without saying another word.

"He'll still be teaching?" Harry asked conversationally. He would do anything to avoid talking about more serious matters, even if he were only putting them off for a little while longer.

"Yes, of course. He'll be safer there than anywhere else."

"If you say so."

A long, uncomfortable silence later, Dumbledore spoke again. "I suppose you've heard by now that you will be studying Occlumency again, and I'm certain that you can see the reasoning behind my decision."

Harry nodded reluctantly. "Was there anything else?" he asked harshly.

"I gathered that you had not yet received your OWL results. It is shameful the way the post is run these days." He handed over a large manila envelope.

Blowing out an anxious breath, Harry opened it. His results were another thing he had been carefully avoiding. He knew he wouldn't have high enough scores to be an Auror, or probably to do anything else of value. He pulled out the sheet of parchment and read over his scores, feeling a bit better with each one, until he got to Potions.

"Well, that's it, then."

"What's the matter, Harry? You did quite well, truth be told. Your Defence score was among the highest in the school."

Harry frowned. "I'll never be an Auror, though. I can't get into Advanced Potions with just an E."

"Well, as to that..." Dumbledore smiled. "I'm afraid Professor Snape has had to lower his standards a bit."

"That's not right." Harry sat up. "It's not fair that he should have to admit me when I don't meet the requirements. I don't want everything handed to me."

The Headmaster shook his head. "It's really nothing to do with you, Harry. The Ministry strongly suggested that it would be best, what with the war, if more people were educated in that particular field, especially as related to healing and defence. Normally I don't let them order my teachers around, but I must confess that I agreed in this case. I drew the line at their changing his curriculum, but Severus was still understandably upset."

Harry nodded slowly. A bright ribbon of hope twisted through him, almost snuffed out by the darkness of the depression that surrounded it. Perhaps he wasn't so hopeless after all. He's study more this time around; he had learned his lesson. If he could survive Advanced Potions and make it through his NEWTS, he could get into the Auror training program with no trouble. He smiled a little. As an Auror, he would finally be able to make up for all of the deaths he had caused.

Dumbledore gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder. "I'll leave you to rest for a few minutes. Dinner should be ready shortly."

Harry could hear the Headmaster's knees pop as the older wizard stood to leave.

"Sir?" he said quietly.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Er... I was just wondering what's happening with the house, since Sirius... er... is it safe for us to stay here?"

"He left no will, and since none of his remaining relatives have claimed the house, it falls into Ministry custody. We don't expect any trouble with keeping this as our headquarters since, frankly, the Ministry cannot claim what it cannot find." Dumbledore smiled, the mischievous twinkle returning to his eye.

"What about Kreacher? If I see him... I don't think I could...If it hadn't been for him--" he shook his head angrily.

"He's dead, Harry. He'd crawled up inside the chimney and passed on, from old age, apparently." The Headmaster removed his glasses and cleaned them on his sleeve. "We only found him a week later, when Tonks Flooed in. Corpse fell right on her head. Of course, it was rather... pungent by then."

Harry snickered, and Dumbledore twinkled in response. "I'll see you at school, Harry."

*****

Soon after Dumbledore left, Mrs. Weasley called everyone down for dinner. The moment Harry entered the kitchen, Hermione and Ron dragged him to the far end of the table.

"We'd like a word with you," Ron said as they sat on either side of Harry.

Harry frowned with worry. Had they decided to alienate themselves from him after all? That was what he had wanted, wasn't it? After their last conversation, he wasn't so certain anymore. He *did* need them. The prophecy may have labeled him as the big gun, but he still needed his support system. He needed a strategist and a font of knowledge.

"I don't want–"

"We know," Hermione interrupted. "You don't want to involve us. The problem with that is we're already involved."

Ron continued. "Keeping us in the dark won't keep us safe."

"But–"

"We're just suggesting that you let us know what's going on," Hermione said. "You don't have to tell us any more than you're comfortable with. Besides, there's no point in trying to shut us out." She grinned.

"She's right, mate. You're stuck with us."

A slight smile touched Harry's lips. "I can live with that."

*****

Over dinner, Harry told his friends about the happenings at Privet Drive, leaving out his nightmares and manic cleaning. Careful to avoid being overheard by the others at the table, he related the dream he'd had soon after arriving at Grimmauld Place.

"Did you tell Dumbledore about your dream?" Hermione asked.

"No," he said. He sighed. "But I suppose I should."

"Do you think the artifact that You-Know-Who was talking about could be related to whatever the Order was discussing earlier?" Ron asked. "Maybe they weren't talking about spies at all."

"That's possible," Hermione said. "If you tell Dumbledore about your dream, he might give away some clue as to what exactly this artifact is. That should give us somewhere to start looking."

Harry nodded. "I'll talk to him after the Welcoming Feast."

Snape swept into the kitchen, pausing only long enough to snatch up the plate of chicken before stalking back out.

"Seven thirty, Potter," he called over his shoulder.

Harry pushed the peas on his plate around with his fork. "I'd forgotten about that."

"I don't envy you," said Ron. "I'm sure he'll be twice as fun after you... after this afternoon."

"Now, Ron, this afternoon only reinforced that Harry *must* learn Occlumency." She turned to Harry. "Please, you *really* have to try hard. Just pay attention so that we can work together on it, all right?"

He nodded. "Speaking of this afternoon... er... Ron, do you suppose...?

The redhead frowned and stabbed at a bit of potato petulantly. "I've been wondering, too. D'you reckon Fred knows who he was talking about?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm sure he was lying, Ron. None of your brothers would–"

"I'll bet it's Percy," Ron continued. "He'd fit right in with that crowd. Stupid git."

Though he silently agreed with Ron, Harry shook his head. "Even Percy's not *that* daft."

Ron shook his head. "I'm not so sure."

*****

Harry entered the library promptly at 7:30 to find Lupin and Snape glaring death at each other from opposite sides of the room.

"At last," the Potions Master sneered. "You're very nearly late."

Though a suitable come-back rose to his lips, Harry remained silent.

"Did you hear me, Potter?"

He tamped down his anger enough to answer meekly. "Yes, sir."

"Don't give him such a hard time, Snape," Lupin said hotly.

Harry shot him a concerned look. Remus had been more short-fused toward Snape in the past couple of days than he had ever remembered seeing him. It was almost as though the werewolf were channeling Sirius at times.

When Lupin turned to the boy, his eyes softened. "Professor McGonagall will be over-seeing your Occlumency lessons while at school, to avoid a repeat of last year." He cast a sharp glance toward the other adult as he said this. "Since she's unavailable tonight, I've volunteered for this lesson."

"Informative as this is," Snape cut in smoothly, "we really must get started. I have no intention of spending my entire evening in a room with two puerile Gryffindors. Clear your mind, Potter. Just as before, but do *try* to block me this time."

"I thought Dumbledore told you to try a different method," Remus interrupted.

"It's called 'review,' Lupin. It's what teachers do. Now kindly stop interrupting my lesson."

Harry found that emptying his mind was a bit easier than it had been before. He'd been doing it all summer, after all. It wasn't so much turning his mind into a complete blank as it was making sure his thoughts and emotions remained formless. Rather than a void, his mind became an amorphous swirling.

"Legilimens."

The intrusion seemed slowed by the chaos, but began to bring the formless memories into shape. His most recent dream coalesced and replayed itself.

"Have you found it yet?"

"No, my lord. It was already gone when we arrived at the site. We have no definite evidence indicating who took it, but –"

"It was Dumbledore's Order, certainly. Snape revealed–"

Harry tried to push the invader back out of his mind, hoping that the professor had not seen enough to realize the dream was recent. Snape was the last person he wanted commenting on his dreams. As before, pushing back proved fruitless, and the memory took shape once more.

"Our intelligence proved false, my lord. Ministry records have confirmed that Lily Potter had no surviving relatives."

"That is not true, my lord. She had an older sister who married a Muggle named Dursley. I gave you their last known address, Lestrange!"

On nothing more than a wisp of a whim, Harry changed his tactics completely. Fighting back gained nothing against a mind more practiced. It was time to do what he'd wanted to do since being sent back to Privet Drive. It was time to give up. He stopped trying to repel Snape, and instead let himself fall completely into grey chaos. The invading mind wormed its way through his, as though trying to find something to latch onto, then withdrew.

"Interesting strategy, Potter. We'll test it again in a moment." Snape crossed his arms. "What was the dream I saw?"

"Nothing, sir." A quick glance at Lupin showed open concern in the werewolf's eyes.

"And I assume you came to that judgment yourself, rather than allowing the Headmaster to decide what is and is not important?"

"Er..."

Snape sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. "Though I dislike trusting these... visions of yours, they are now our only insight to the Dark Lord's activities."

"Then why do I have to learn Occlumency? Sir."

"It's no longer about stopping the dreams completely, Potter. We're trying to limit the Dark Lord's influence on your consciousness. How would you feel if one of your little friends... say, Miss Granger... were killed by the Dark Lord using your own two hands?"

Harry frowned. He *had* considered that possibility, of course. It had been one of his chief concerns since Voldemort had possessed him in the Ministry lobby. He met Snape's black glare, but said nothing.

"With that in mind, we'll try again. The method you used before is very close to being correct." The near-praise was delivered stiffly. "Though easier to maintain, it is still possible for a skilled mind to force thoughts and memories to take shape. Once more. Legilimens!"

Even with little warning, Harry was able to reclaim that fluid state of mind. As before, Snape sifted through his mind, but this time did not manage to capture any memories. He delved more deeply, but suddenly recoiled, as though surprised. The ether of Harry's mind swirled with the boy's confusion. Surely he would know if the professor had run across another memory. He hoped it wasn't anything to do with his own self-loathing. He'd never hear the end of it.

Concerned, he turned his attention to the deeper levels of his own mind. Snape's searching presence had met the other invader; the egg-like thing that had lodged itself at the back of Harry's mind. It shifted restlessly, as if trying to awaken from a troubling dream. The professor retreated.

When Harry opened his eyes, Snape was staring back at him, paler than usual.

"What was that?" he asked in a whisper, barely audible.

"I-I don't know, sir."

Snape quickly regained his composure. "The lesson ends here for tonight, Potter."

He swept out of the library without another word. Lupin stared after him, his eyebrows drawing together.

"What was that about?"