But the boy near the base of the staircase was different. Aegeus didn't recognize him— a third-year, maybe, a Ravenclaw, walking alone, his shoulders tense, and it didn't look like he did it because of the cold.
Aegeus caught two emotions from him: anger and humiliation, clear enough that he barely needed to deliberately feel for it, the feeling was gone as fast as he felt it.
There was also shame, recent enough that it still had an edge on it. Watching him go up the stairs two at a time and disappear around the landing.
He stood there a moment longer to make sure he was gone. He hadn't learned anything useful— no name, no cause, nothing he could act on even if he'd wanted to, which he wasn't sure he did. He'd only confirmed that the technique worked; it was weak but functional. That should have satisfied him. Instead, he found himself thinking about the boy the rest of the way back to the tower, wondering what had put that particular look on someone's face
He added a new note in his own notebook that evening. Strongest signals— fear, shame, distress, and anger. Ordinary thought remains harder to read.
"A moment of your time, Mr. Granger," said a voice behind him, warm and patient.
Aegeus slowly turned, like a kid caught with his hand on the cookie jar. Headmaster Dumbledore stood a few paces off in the mostly empty corridor, hands folded into his sleeves, half-moon spectacles catching the torchlight, an expression on his face that managed to be both pleasant and entirely unreadable at once.
"Headmaster!"
"Mr. Granger," Dumbledore greeted. "No matter how curious you are. It's not, generally speaking... Considered good manners to peek into the minds of others," he said, still pleasant, as though remarking on the weather. "Even if you only took a peek at the surface."
A pause. "Most people would rather not have their strongest, most private feelings seen by a passing eleven-year-old, however academic his intentions are."
Aegeus didn't bother denying it. There seemed very little point. "You could tell what I was doing?"
"I could tell." Dumbledore's eyes crinkled slightly. "It has a very particular texture— like standing near someone humming. Most people would never notice it. As for me, I have rather a bit of experience noticing things other people miss..."
"I didn't intend to look at anything sensitive. I only wanted to learn—"
"Nevertheless, Mr. Granger, how innocent your intentions are. It wouldn't make much of a difference to the person in question, yes?" Dumbledore studied him a moment, the humor in his expression not gone, exactly, but joined now by something more careful. "Otherwise you wouldn't do it so sneakily, so full of guilt..."
".."
"But I want to learn mind arts," said Aegeus stubbornly.
"May I ask why?"
"I am interested in all magic!"
Dumbledore nodded as if he expected that answer. And when he spoke again, the warmth in his voice had deepened. "That is, I will say, a more noble ideal than I myself had for learning this art. Most people who dabble in Legilimency do so for rather less honorable reasons."
"Is it wrong to learn it?"
"No, my dear boy, not wrong. But discouraged, at your age, and for good reasons— it is a discipline that punishes carelessness most severely, and you, forgive me, have that in spades."
Then Dumbledore's gaze sharpened slightly. "Now I must get serious for a moment; what you just did to your fellow student is not a habit I intend to tolerate within these walls ."
"What about Professor Snape?" Aegeus muttered.
"Professor Snape is a master of the discipline, bound by strict professional oaths and severe personal discipline; he knows better than to use what he finds for personal gain," Dumbledore replied softly, his voice carrying a gentle authority that brooked no argument.
Aegeus was very skeptical about that.
Whether the Headmaster missed it or simply elected to ignore it, he pressed on without pausing. "How about," he paused, "For as long as you refrain from attempting any new spell on your fellow students, how about practicing on me instead?" He inclined his head slightly.
Aegeus blinked, caught, for once, slightly off balance. "Are you serious, Professor?"
He smiled then and said, "It would help a great deal more to practice against someone who knows precisely what you're doing and can tell you where you went wrong."
"Come on, don't be shy," he said, then held Aegeus's gaze, open and unguarded.
"As you wish, sir. Please forgive my rudeness then, Professor," said Aegeus, still hesitant. "Legilimens!"
He felt something then, a half-second later, something catch him back. Not an intrusion, simply present, the way a hand rests lightly on his shoulder rather than grip it: a deliberate echo of his own attempt, mirrored back at him with an ease that made his own look clumsy by comparison, like a child's first stroke of a quill.
He staggered half a step, more startled than hurt, and Dumbledore's smile widened. "There," he said. "Now you know what that feels like from the other side. That, Mr. Granger, is the beginning of Occlumency, Mr. Granger"
"You mirrored my attempt so effortlessly..."
He chuckled. "I have had rather more than a few months of practice, after all." He straightened, folding his hands back into his sleeves. "If you would honor me— on Tuesday evenings, my office, you are always free to visit if you so wish."
Aegeus considered the offer for a moment. "Tuesdays are taken. I have to go to Professor Vance's dueling club."
"Ah. Right." Dumbledore's eyes crinkled again. "Then Thursdays, perhaps?"
"Thursdays are fine."
"Excellent." He clapped; after that, he left.
Aegeus watched him disappear around the corner, leaving behind the lingering echo of footsteps fading down the corridor.
Aegeus stood alone in the quiet hallway, wondering if he had just gotten exceptionally lucky or exceptionally deep in trouble.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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