"It's hystrifors, not whatever pronunciation that is."
"Why are you being mean to me?"
"Because you called the Falmouth Falcons a bunch of slobs on brooms and I won't forgive you." Harry didn't even look up from his notes, trying to figure out if he wrote down the Latin origins for the shrinking charm or if he needed to sift through his textbook to find it… or if their Charms textbook would even have it and he'd need to find one of his Latin books instead. Damn it purebloods had it easy already knowing Latin coming into Hogwarts!
It's only been less than a day back and only two classes, and while Herbology was fine enough it was Charms he was worried about already. He'd been so full of determination right off the holiday high that he was so totally going to improve his class score and beat out Hermione, but faced with actual Charms homework he was sweating a bit.
It also did not help that the 'people asking for his help in Transfiguration' trend hadn't let up even a day either, with Zacharias Smith sitting across from him at the Library begging for feedback on his spellwork.
"I didn't say they were slobs exactly-"
"You literally did."
"I more meant they were sloppy. Compared to like the Magpies, their passing skills are so bad, like they drop at least one out of every eight passes or something crazy, which for a professional team-"
"Ah ah ah!" Harry snapped up to wag a finger in his face. "No quidditch talk! Talk later, homework now. Say it again!"
He sighed. "Hystrifors."
"Say it again like you don't have gum in your mouth."
"Hystrifors!"
"'tri-fors, there's an 'R' in there. Hys-TRI-fors."
"Hystrifors?"
"Something like that," Harry huffed, pulling his textbook closer since his own notes had failed him. "Hey you're a pureblood, what's the Latin root word for the shrinking charm?"
"Er… I dunno, 'reduc'?" He shrugged, Harry rolling his eyes hard.
"You're useless to me."
"What does me being pureblood have to do with that?"
"Muggleborns don't learn Latin until we come to Hogwarts. I mean we barely learn it here, we're just expected to know it."
"Oh," Zach didn't seem that bothered, just tapping his wand on his arm distractedly. "I mean my mom tried to teach it to me but I never paid much attention to it. Never saw the use."
"Never saw the—are spells not in Latin?"
"I mean yeah but how useful is it really when you just need to know the spell itself?"
"When I have a Charms essay to write about spell components, that's how." Harry snarked.
"That's just school stuff, that's not practical though," He defended himself, and Harry bit down on the yelling he wanted to do, realizing that first of all they were in the library, and second of all he was approaching Hermione levels of academic stress if he didn't chill out.
He did however sympathize with her hard for a moment because honestly… magic was simply amazing, in every way, but purebloods took it for granted in such a blatant, careless way sometimes that it was infuriating. Maybe he didn't have her insane need to know everything, but he still had a healthy does of curiosity and wouldn't just let an entire subject of information pass by because it seemed 'unimportant' or uninteresting to him. He also understood it was just so normal to them they forgot that it could be interesting from someone else's perspective, but still… the lack of attention they gave sometimes was really annoying.
"'Re' means 'back again' and 'ducere' means 'bring' or 'lead'." A new voice cut in and Harry was so startled he actually dropped his quill to whip around for the source, because it couldn't be—
But sure enough, Theo had actually approached him of his own will to stand a bit awkwardly amongst the bookshelves, though Smith froze up seeing him. Hufflepuffs weren't so against Slytherins like the lions were, but that didn't mean someone with the last name Nott didn't make light-sided purebloods a little nervous.
"Theo!" Harry greeted, thrilled to see him though could tell from his expression this was not actually a friendly chat, he was here on business.
"Er… Nott." Zach greeted very awkwardly, looking ready to be anywhere but there.
Theo didn't even blink and gave him the out by staring him down pointedly. "Smith. Get lost, please."
"Yeah…" He didn't need telling twice as he grabbed his stuff and bolted with a half-hearted thanks shot towards Harry, who let him go without another thought, more wrapped up in why the hell Theo had actually just said please.
"Well this is exciting! I am curious though on if you do talk to others at least politely then and it was literally just me last year who got the cold shoulder," He wondered as the quiet snake took the seat across from him that Smith had just vacated.
"It was just you. Blaise gave you an inch and look what happened to him—I didn't have that luxury."
That was a fair point, Blaise had also tried to be cold to him at first but had been too wrapped up in their bickering to not talk to him eventually. Theo did not have nearly the political clout a Zabini did and feared Harry would take the inch he was given and demand a mile from it, so he'd refrained from saying a single word to keep him at arm's length.
To his credit, he'd clocked him perfectly because that's absolutely what Harry would've done.
"You make a valid point. And to think we'd go from not speaking to you actually coming to find me! Consider this the best new year's gift ever." He grinned, earning himself a dark eye roll.
"Maybe let me talk first before you decide if this is a good thing or not."
"I'm all ears—what's up?" He closed his textbook pointedly to give his full attention to whatever this topic was, but contrary to what he'd said he didn't actually talk, just put the book he'd been carrying on the table and pushing it closer to him. Harry picked it up to give it a scan, frowning a bit as the title sounded familiar. "Occlumency? Wait, that rings a bell…"
"Those books you said Granger was giving you. They're a beginner's guide to an art called occlumency that almost every Slytherin knows, and I want you to learn it as fast and as well as you can." He came out and stated in a tone that sounded… odd.
It wasn't really a question. It wasn't really a plea or a demand.
Maybe it was just because Theo had never really spoken so directly to him before, he didn't know what to make of a Slytherin who'd never wanted anything to do with him before suddenly making a request.
"O…kay?" He wasn't exactly against it, but the situation, the very precise and particular way he'd brought this topic up, made it obvious something else was up. He hadn't really offered anything in exchange for this ask, which felt like a very particular choice he'd made instead of him just forgetting—Harry did not believe someone like Theo would just forget or abandon normal politics for no reason. "Theo, what's wrong? I mean I can do this because you clearly care enough to bother actually asking for this, but I think in return I'm owed a real answer at least."
His lips pressed together in a thin line, unsurprised at the logical pushback and seemed ready to answer.
"I know Greengrass probably told you about me." He began.
Harry couldn't help but be amused, seeing he seemed prepared but knowing he wasn't actually as prepared as he thought. "On the contrary, I specifically asked her not to so I could figure you out myself."
He froze, blue eyes noticeably widening for a second before he caught himself. It was rare he actually could take him off guard and Harry never got bored of it.
"Surprised you, did I?"
"You… do that a lot." He admitted reluctantly. "Okay, well… since you don't know then what I'll say is that my family has a dark alignment, and my father did many questionable things in the last war."
He was a death eater, Harry could easily connect the dots. Just because he didn't outright ask and no one had outright told him, didn't mean he hadn't heard things. Didn't mean he didn't know. Didn't mean everyone didn't know—just look at how fast Smith had run from someone everyone knew was a Death Eater's son.
He just nodded, taking that in stride. Theo seemed to realize he was on the same page and pressed forward.
"I cannot tell you where I align, as honestly… I don't know. I'm interested in surviving and keeping to myself, and just because I like you doesn't mean shit. Get it? You already said as much to Blaise."
"Yep." Harry agreed, unsurprised but withdrawn since… well, it wasn't a comfortable topic to talk about exactly, even if it was true. He also didn't know what to feel about the sudden confession of Theo's lack of alignment, since on one hand it meant he wasn't against being friends with him… he just, like Blaise, wouldn't choose him if it came to their own survival. He had expected nothing less but it still made his stomach a bit uneasy to hear it confirmed.
Theo took a breath as if to steady himself and got to his point.
"But you ran into a piece of the dark lord or whatever last year and that means he's not gone, not entirely. Everyone knows about it now and that means there's a confirmed, very real possibility that he will come back one day." He announced quietly, calmly…but it was clear he'd been thinking about it, in depth, and stressing over it ever since Harry had confirmed it was the dark lord possessing Quirrell last year. Harry shouldn't be surprised that had been news that had not been put on the back burner at all to the Slytherins hearing it, but he had his own things going on at the time not to notice their preoccupation.
"You're probably right," He admitted, though it made his stomach sink to recognize it officially. It had always been in the back of his mind somewhere but… with everything else he had going on he just—
"I'm asking you to spare the Slytherins."
Harry blinked, ripped from his thoughts brutally and startled.
"Spare them? What do you mean by that?" He demanded.
"Occlumency is the partner art to something called Legilimency, which is the ability to 'read minds' as muggles call it. Only a few powerful people ever manage one or both—and you can guess as to who I'm talking about."
He couldn't breathe for a second.
"He… can read minds." He deduced, absolute dread filling every inch of his body.
Luckily Theo seemed to understand the reaction perfectly and didn't call him on how pale he'd probably gotten.
"Occlumency is the art of protecting your mind from Legilimency. I'm sure you've read about its other benefits, like centering emotions and increasing memory retention. For all of those reasons purebloods teach their children from the time they're old enough to even understand the concept, and children of people who have ever even been near the dark lord especially so. The dark lord was so renowned at the skill that despite most of his followers having studied Occlumency in one form or another to defend against him, only the best Occlumens were actually successful at it and from what I'm aware of, that pretty much means only Dumbledore and Snape."
Harry couldn't feel his fingers for a moment from how hard this information stunned him. He almost didn't care that he'd practically confirmed Snape had once been near the dark lord, in the face of the new, horrific thought that made his blood run cold.
"Tell me Dumbledore isn't one of them too," He choked, feeling a wave of despair when Theo just nodded.
"They both are, it's said."
"Oh my god," Harry put a hand over his forehead, trying not to pass out by breathing through his nose but he was freaking the fuck out right now. This was… that was so not good.
"The dark lord wants you dead, specifically. For obvious reasons." Harry couldn't even blink at that he was so unsurprised, but he was alarmed by how blunt Theo was being. "That means there's a very real, if not inevitable chance you'll face him again in some form or another. And if you're not the absolute best at Occlumency, he's going to know you've been sitting at the Slytherin table. Blaise and Greengrass are probably safe, but I'm not. Draco is not, if that compels you any more than my own life." He declared candidly.
Harry just… felt cold.
Theo was asking him to spare his life, essentially. Do this, spare the children of death eaters who would be tortured at minimum if the dark lord ever learned they were being chummy with his arch enemy. Given he'd tried to kill Harry as a one-year-old, clearly he wouldn't hesitate about eleven and twelve-year-olds either.
"No one wants to actually think about this." Theo pressed when Harry wasn't immediately reacting. "But this is hard to learn and no one knows what'll happen tomorrow so… there's always a chance it's too late to help, but that doesn't mean starting now isn't wise. You already have started but I noticed you stopped reading them lately and I… just want to ask you to pick them up again." He admitted, finally losing some of the determination he'd come in with to look at the table between them.
He'd done what he could by asking, and he'd made a damn good argument. The rest was up to Harry though and he knew he couldn't push.
But… Harry needed a moment to wrap his head around this.
"Does… does Dumbledore read everyone's mind? Is that a thing Slytherin has always known he can do?" He needed to know.
Theo pressed his lips again. "Legilimency is more complicated than just 'reading minds'—that's what muggles call it so I figured you'd be able to relate to that most easily. So far as I understand it, it's more an art form. A Legilimens can not only sift through a complicated mind, but can also interpret what they see, which is nothing like reading things word for word. Things like that are difficult to do and take time, so if you've limited your contact with him I doubt he's seen much." He frowned. "I'd avoid eye-contact with him though, if you are near him. Normally you need a wand in hand but it's a fear amongst a lot of darker families that both him and the dark lord can do it just through eye contact."
Again, going from his expression and considering it was the son of a death eater telling him this, it was probably closer to something the dark lord's other servants had witnessed and spread through the grape vine. Which was about as close to a primary source as Harry had gotten so far in any of this mess of a wizarding world.
He folded his hands together on the table and leaned forward on his elbows to press them into his lips, closing his eyes to think this over.
He desperately searched his memory for the times he'd been near Dumbledore, hoping against hope he hadn't happened to be thinking anything bad when in front of him. The time he'd been called into his office this year he'd been so focused on Alden he was pretty sure any thoughts of Sirius or Remus hadn't been close to the surface, and he hadn't been there that long for Dumbledore to dig deeper and find things like that.
After all that had happened before Christmas break and he'd definitely found out that Harry had gone AWOL since the twins confirmed they'd been grounded right up until the morning the Hogwarts's Express had made its return trip in the new year. If Dumbledore had known about Moony they would've absolutely been found out already, and if he'd known about Remus he would probably know about Sirius, since those thoughts were pretty close in his mind's web, he assumed.
Which meant Dumbledore hadn't gotten anything that important yet… maybe he'd picked up already that Harry wasn't as Gryffindor as he played, but there was literally nothing he could do about that except keep pretending and hope he never got called on it. As well as from here on out avoid the headmaster like his life depended on it.
Voldemort on the other hand…
His head ached and the scar hidden on his forehead throbbed like it was a phantom reminder of the wounds his mind had suffered that night with Quirrell. He'd already been too close to thinking about it since Lu had made him bring it up but now it came back in full force and he had to put a hand over his forehead and screw his face up to try and keep it together.
God, he just… he knew something bad had happened, even more than he'd understood it at the time. He remembered being panicked about his graveyard having no defenses, about the darkness beyond the gates but he just… he hadn't realized how close he really was.
That he might've been in his head and too close, so fucking close to… well he didn't know what, but if Voldemort had appeared in his graveyard he knew the cruciatus would've actually driven him insane that night. The combination of the two would've… it would've…
He'd known the darkness out there had been scary, but he'd really underestimated how scared he should've been.
And yeah, he was… scared.
He was terrified.
"Harry?"
He was pulled from the quickly spiraling panic by Theo's voice, blue eyes unwavering as always but for once looked genuinely concerned about him for a moment.
Right… Occlumency.
There was a way to fight back… he could… if he just learned this he could…
If Voldemort came back tomorrow, they were done for. If he came back in ten years though…? If Harry worked hard every day to be good at this… in ten years, it might make a difference, is what Theo was saying. If he came back in a year who knows but… starting now wasn't a bad bet. He had started and… and maybe that was the reason his graveyard hadn't fallen that night.
The life of that thought helped him center himself some.
A second later his hands went cold again as he remembered, he hadn't been back to that supposedly safe graveyard in… well, since that night.
What if he did something to me, he couldn't help but panic. What other reason could there be for something he'd spent so much time on to just… disappear, from his own head even!
He lowered his hand, trying to regain himself but he felt like throwing up.
"Sorry, just… remembering."
"As much as some dark Slytherins might boast, you've actually met him. I'm sure you understand better than anyone." Theo gave him a lot of grace in not judging his mini panic attack here, which he appreciated.
"I… yeah. I guess." He deflected, taking a breath. "I just… I started, as you said. With Hermione's books." Theo nodded in confirmation but then Harry found he couldn't continue.
What was he even trying to say right now? It all just… this was so much, his mind—
"Harry?" Theo just repeated his name in a gentle tone, frowning a little. He probably wasn't used to him being so at a loss for words.
But… the sound of his actual name in Theo's voice, reminded him suddenly of the entire year of his silence. That first conversation they'd had to call him Monroe, followed by a year of silence… how important that first real conversation they'd had at the Slytherin table had been to him.
It had taken a lot for them to be able to speak to each other.
Harry had pushed for it, and he'd succeeded. The taste of the victory on his tongue reminded him that he needed to talk damn it, because if he couldn't find the words then all that effort was for nothing.
Not just for Theo, but for all his Slytherin friends. He wasn't just doing this for himself, he was doing it to protect his snakes.
And Theo was looking at him with blue eyes that were more engaged than they'd ever been before, and Harry would literally kill before he saw them close off again. He'd been the one to push his presence into their lives, and now it was a real danger to them if he couldn't take responsibility.
A new sense of purpose flushed through him the shook off the terrible numbness of his fear.
"I'll do it because obviously I don't want anyone in my head for any reason, and I'm not cruel enough to wish that on anyone, much less my friends. And I now have a pretty good idea of what it is that would come for them." He winced, but Theo didn't react to it. "But since you know something about this can you… can you be my friend for a second? Not a Slytherin. Just a friend."
He seemed surprised but… nodded silently.
Almost like he was hesitant to, but made the choice to anyway.
It was all the gesture Harry needed to show his own cards here—if Theo could be brave and branch out so far beyond where he was normally comfortable to talk about this, then he could be brave in joining him. He didn't even need to go first, he could follow for once.
"I did do it. I started it at least… I had a mental mindscape and it was really working with the memory stuff and centering my emotions… it was working, and I think I was getting good at it." He dropped his eyes to the table for a moment too. "And then of course last year happened and… to be honest my summer sucked so hard. I went from being tortured by the bloody dark lord directly to my relatives who are absolute filth. Th-they-" He paused but one glance up at Theo's blank face… how unrattled he was to hear this… it was reassuring. "They locked me in a shed. And I ran out of calming draughts and… and the summer sucked."
He finally admitted it.
"I haven't been able to get back to my mindscape since the end of last year. I'm not really sure if I can, or if I should start over or… I want to do this but I don't know how and honestly it feels really overwhelming." He blurted out.
He actually told someone… someone outside of Neville and Moony, who'd honestly been more of an emotional break-down rather than a real confession. No, this he'd actually finally told someone like a normal human but… why Theo?
Probably because he just nodded slowly, considering that new information rather than freaking out.
"My summer… sucked as well. Winter break too." He admitted delicately, and Harry's chest actually eased up.
Huh.
"It is pretty reasonable, that you're not calm right now so getting back to it is hard. Occlumency is exceptionally hard, as I said only the greatest wizards ever manage it so it's not a shock." Theo brushed right by their mutual confessions to answer his question directly. It made sense too… this was supposed to be hard, but there was a good reason to try anyway. "You shouldn't start over, your mindscape is your mindscape for a reason, but if you can't get back to it even on a calming draught then you likely need a mind healer. It's also not impossible the dark lord did something when he attacked you, given he's a master of the subject and there's tons about this area of magic we still don't know."
"Right." He took that in, his fear of the dark lord having done something feeling a lot less monumentous with Theo confirming it was a possibility, but his calmness telling him it wasn't the end of the world. "A mind healer?"
"I'm not sure if Madam Pomfrey is a certified mind healer or not, but she is world renowned for her skill, so she might be able to help, or would at least know someone who could help." He gave a wry look. "You should know… the wizarding world is really bad at acknowledging mental health in any aspect. But you're pretty good at doing what you want regardless of public opinion so I'd recommend ignoring everyone on this subject in favor of doing whatever it takes to be good at this," He leaned forward to tap the cover of book on the table between them, and Harry vaguely recognized what he was saying.
"Do you… how would you know what the wizarding world knows about it, to know they don't?" His curiosity couldn't help itself.
Theo made a small face of annoyance but besides shifting in his seat he gave up the game. "When things suck particularly badly, the one place my very pureblood father would not think to look is a muggle library." He glanced away then just offered a half shrug. "There's one ten minutes from our house."
"Oh. That makes sense." Harry was… kind of stunned to be having this conversation. "I hid in a muggle library to read my Hogwarts letter so my relatives wouldn't see it."
"It happens." Theo agreed, entirely blank. "Muggle libraries are very convenient."
"They are." What was this conversation…? "Okay… thanks, Theo. I'll… I will try." He promised, pulling the book on the table closer to him to place it on his lap for safe keeping.
"Knowing you, you'll probably do more than try, but that's all I'm asking anyway." He gave another small, one-shoulder shrug. "In any case, get your mindscape looked at because that's probably not good."
"Right…" He ran his hands over the cover distractedly, but something bubbled out of him before he could stop himself and it sprung to his lips. "Do you think Draco would be a good healer?" he let slip out, clearly taking his friend off guard by the random question. "I mean he's good at potions and charms… I told him he'd be a good healer. And now with his ability…"
"Ability?"
He froze… was that supposed to be a secret? He had never actually asked what Draco was doing with that nor if he'd even told his roommates about it—he'd completely assumed he had.
"Ah…"
Theo actually half smiled, waving him off. "It's alright, I won't rat you out for spilling. Most of this conversation never gets repeated, right?"
"Yes." He instantly agreed, relieved. Given the topics they'd just brushed by… well, they'd both been vulnerable enough that both had enough ammo to never speak of this again and could easily trust that this whole conversation would be buried once they finished it. "Then, just know he has a latent healing ability. I don't know if he's ever touched you as he doesn't really touch anyone, but his hands numb injuries automatically. Pomfrey says he could train to turn that little ability into a big one and I… I think he'd be good at it."
Theo tilted his head to the side some, considering it.
"He's very bound to his family image. I would expect he'd take after his father just to continue what everyone knows of the Malfoy name, but… they just went grey. If he were a true neutral, or at least pretending to be neutral, being a healer would be a great way to do it." He nodded towards the book in his arms. "Going back to this situation… if he were indispensable to both the dark and the light… well."
It would save him from Voldemort, to a point.
If Harry had ever loved the idea of Draco being a healer, he liked that idea even more.
"I hope he does." Was all he could say. He'd be the hypocrite of a century if he went up to the Malfoy heir and told him to become a healer. Should the roles be reversed Harry would hit the roof rather than let someone dictate his life choices like that, all he could do was hope Draco was inspired enough by his ability to want to pursue it.
"In the spirit of being honest, even if he does become a healer there's no way he'll be able to hide anything, from anyone. Draco is an open book even to people without Legilimency." Theo frowned. "I know he's why you wanted to be friend with Slytherin at all but so far as people you could've picked, he's a bad one." A liability, he clearly meant.
And someone like Theo, whose entire existence centered around survival… when Harry was still kind of there, if he didn't have a plan to escape his relatives in motion already he'd still be in that mindset and no… talking to Draco had not been high on his list of options even when he was at his most desperate. There just… was so much more to lose and Draco's inability to understand, much less hide things was a liability.
That's not really why he didn't write to Draco when he was locked in that damn shed, but it was true nonetheless.
"Who I'm friends with has nothing to do with houses, although yeah through Draco I did learn befriending Slytherins was harder than normal. But he's not the worst." Harry defended his best friend.
Theo was unamused. "You're biased. There's a lot of arguments to be made that he is."
"Don't lie, you actually like Blaise and Draco, don't you?" He pressed his lips again but didn't respond. "You sure you're not biased? I know Draco isn't like… us. I tried to… I don't know, talk when we finally caught up after the summer but it…" His frustrated made it hard to find the words but luckily the quiet snake understood immediately.
"It didn't work. He's far too spoiled to have any concept of what you were trying to say." He paused, then allowed: "Without saying it."
"Yes." Harry was relieved someone just got it. "I mean… you know him, you have to. If he were like, an actual healer. A good one. Wouldn't that be…?"
Wouldn't the world be a bit more bearable? If someone already close could just be there and make the pain go away? He already did that to a point but…
It seemed like against his better judgement Theo was entertaining the thought, and reluctantly agreed.
"Yeah. That'd be… nice."
"I don't know. If someone like Blaise were to say it he wouldn't listen, and I've already said it so it's in his head." He couldn't tell Draco what to do but he left that implication hanging…
And luckily Theo seemed to get it, giving a slow nod. "Yeah."
He understood.
Harry felt his heart both swell but also ache from a hurricane of things circling throughout him right now. A feeling of gaining something important, but… in the same breath knowing he was also losing something just as precious. Something fragile he might never get the chance to see again, and though his heart couldn't really find the energy to really fight back about it, it didn't mean he wasn't sad too. About a lot of things.
But still… he wanted to know the truth, just this once.
He lifted his hand up over the table to offer palm up, not really for Theo to take or given him anything but… blue eyes seemed to follow the motion cautiously and then land over the deep scars over his hands that seemed all the more prominent in Library lighting.
"Do you hate muggles?" He asked the son of the death eater in front of him.
Theo just shrugged. "I don't care enough about them to know."
Which was all the proof Harry needed that things like dark and light were all just words. That the things inside peoples' hearts was way messier and uglier than anyone could ever imagine, because Theo was supposed to be the dark Slytherin that scared Hufflepuffs away and Harry was supposed to be the Gryffindor golden boy... and yet—"I think I do." He admitted, both to Theo and himself for the first time. His voice was quiet because he wasn't proud of it, but in this Slytherin's eyes he wasn't ashamed either.
He lifted his other hand to match the position of holding them over the table, almost pointedly showing him the scars that expanded over both appendages.
Theo just stared for a moment.
"…yeah, well…"
It was only half a surprise that he reached up and actually took one of his hands in a light grip—the touch meaning almost nothing when Harry saw that from this angle his sleeve rode up some, revealing deep, nearly black bruising on his wrist beneath the robe cuff, and disappearing up his arm.
Right.
Harry took his hand in both of his and just dropped it to the table, heart somehow both light and heavy at the same time. Theo actually let him have his hand willingly, which was a pleasant surprise. Pretty much only Blaise was touchy amongst the Slytherins, not even Draco or Daphne liked physical touch at all and they were technically friendlier.
Harry himself kind of alternated between loving it and hating it depending on the situation, and he thought Theo might be in the same boat… and for now at least, he didn't pull away.
"I'll learn Occlumency, whatever it takes. I know you will do whatever you need to as well." He told him calmly, but very gravely. "If something does happen tomorrow and you never talk to me again though, can you promise to still be my friend? Even if it's just inside your head?"
… Harry felt the hand in his squeeze gently for a moment.
"We'll see."
000
When Theo got back to the dorm that evening, he was… tired.
It was a relief to be back in the castle, but only to a certain point. He was less on edge, but he doubted he'd ever really feel relaxed, even in a place like this.
Especially with company like this, as he opened their dorm room door and didn't immediately spot Blaise. He hated that. He rather he had eyes on that one at all times since it made his stomach hurt to not know when or where he'd pop up next.
Still, he had business with Draco so it was fine they were alone for a minute. The Malfoy heir had his head down at his desk working on something, so intently in fact that he didn't seem to even notice someone had just walked in.
He gave a sigh, remembering Harry's words and disagreeing again internally. Draco was too unobservant, too relaxed. Even in his own dorm room, he shouldn't have his guard that low, not with the likes of a Zabini living one bed over… not with someone like him on his other side. He was surrounded by enemies and yet… there he worked, unbothered by anything but the notes in front of him and secure in the unfounded assurance that he was safe.
He wasn't.
Dalia Zabini just hadn't ordered her son to corner him yet.
And Theo's own father was, as of right now, too intimidated by the elder Malfoys to do anything but be angry about their difference in status. If the Malfoys took a single misstep and the elder Nott thought he could get away with it, Draco was done for.
But he had no idea. He thought them friends… and Harry was wrong about that.
Well, he was wrong about what friends meant, at least. Maybe he didn't really mind Draco at the heart of it all… it was just, Draco was living his own life, but the people around him weren't. They were all just extensions of their parents' will, because no friendship was worth what punishment awaited them at home if they disobeyed.
So… maybe he was actually fine with his roommates.
It really, really did not matter though.
He bit down on his hesitation and walked forward to get this over with.
He owed Harry, who hadn't really asked for anything in return for the request to learn Occlumency. It was common sense, he would've been doing it had he known, but still. The balance of power felt uneven and if he agreed with it or not, he could balance it once more.
He walked up to the silvery blond, standing over him for the annoying few seconds that took Draco to realize someone had invaded his space, much less was right above him and staring. He blinked up at him twice.
"Can I help you?"
This was very annoying to need to do, but he did it anyway. He paused long enough to get the guy to raise his eyebrows in curiosity before spitting it out.
"…do you know how to brew a pain reliever?" It was a third-year potion but…
"Yes?"
"And…what would you want if I asked for help doing that?"
"Can't you go to Pomfrey? Or Snape even?"
"No." He was blunt and uncompromising, causing Draco to lean back some… then he set his quill down to take the request more seriously.
"Alright… I could use help in History because I can't stay awake in the class."
"Fine."
Harry was right… Draco hadn't even needled for information, he was simply focused on doing it. The trade was almost an afterthought, since Theo could think of a ton of other, better things to ask for. But it was like the trade was a front, nothing else. Hell, they hadn't even defined what help meant—just taking notes? Doing his homework for hime?
Draco didn't seem to care and Theo knew he wouldn't. Because he was weak in the political game and he was spoiled enough to not actually want anything from anyone. He already had it all.
Part of him did it on purpose to tug at the too-soft Slytherin's heartstrings like the gullible puppet he was, unable to let go of the silent anger, the seething resentment, the petty wish to see him fail… yet part of him genuinely meant it when his voice got very, very quiet.
"Thank you."
He walked away, and pretended not to notice Draco all but disappear from the room—probably to get what he needed for the potion.
He wasn't sure when he'd started to get angry, but following his own Occlumency lessons he knew he was just jealous. Painfully so… but his internal seething over his roommate had been well hidden, or so he thought, but… the bubbling rage was only getting worse over time. Festering into something too close to hatred for even him to stomach.
He had been feeling a lot of hatred recently but… maybe Harry was right. Maybe he was just fucking tired of it. Maybe he'd be less tired all the time if he could just ignore it like everyone else did.
Then again, Harry was weird.
He curled up against his headboard with his latest book in his arms, considering it. He had no pride with which to be annoyed he had to pretend to be weak, since a part of him genuinely was weak. While even through the anger and resentment he didn't he didn't truly mind Draco, he didn't actually consider the Malfoy to be a friend either, no matter what Harry thought.
However… he didn't consider the Malfoy heir to be a threat either. He was too loud and liked drama, but he didn't have a malicious streak in him, he'd realized over the past year. Harry would've beaten it out of him if he did, Theo was sure of that by now. Draco didn't want to have a malicious streak that is; it's just he was too easily manipulated so it would've been only so easy if a darker Slytherin had gotten hands on him first. Not that they hadn't tried, they just didn't know Harry had called dibs on the role of Malfoy's manipulator before they ever set foot into Hogwarts.
Whether Harry consciously knew what he was doing or not… and Theo suspected he only half did.
Which was good. As many non-threats as he could get in his life, the better.
This though… even if Draco didn't consider him a friend either, even if he was still mostly dark and just pretending to be grey, he hadn't hesitated to agree to the deal without questioning it further. That was true neutral.
That was far from a threat actually.
So…yeah.
Maybe Harry was onto something with this healer business.
000
"Madam Pomfrey?" Despite how many times he'd ended up in the Hospital Wing, he'd never actually come here alone before. Harry felt a bit awkward inching into the hall now, glancing around to be sure no one else was around or that the Madam wasn't otherwise preoccupied. He literally never saw her anywhere else in the castle but here, probably since she was always on duty and ready to assist an injured student at any given moment so he had no idea what he'd do if she wasn't here…
"Harry!?"
He jumped, nearly out of his skin even, but then startled to see Draco beelining right for him—did he just come out of Madam Pomfrey's office?
"Draco! What are, uh… you doing here?" This was unexpected.
"Are you injured?" The blond didn't even pretend to care about his question and got right to the point, Harry blinking up over his shoulder to see Pomfrey come out of her office at a more reasonable pace and nod her greeting. Somehow she did not seem alarmed, then again he didn't know if she ever did even with actively injured students, she might've just been that professional.
"No, nothing like—I'm fine," He waved him off immediately, not even having a cover story for why he needed to be here.
But… did he even need to hide this from Draco? His first instinct was to always lie but…
"Mr. Malfoy, one patient at a time. You have my permission to proceed with your current work, so please don't delay." The Madam came up and placed a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder, his eyes flickering up at her in a muted panic for a moment before he regained himself.
"Right… I have to do something, I'll be back in an hour. Will you still be here?"
"I have no idea," Harry admitted honestly… then made an impulsive decision. "I'll wait for you though. I'm not doing anything else today, I can explain later."
Draco smiled, seeming relieved this wasn't urgent nor secret for once.
"Okay, later then." He waved as he ran off, clearly on a mission, and Harry returned it… before faltering a bit as he was faced with Madam Pomfrey's stern expression, alone again. "Hi… Madam." He greeted awkwardly.
She smiled. "You don't often come here of your own choice, do you? I promise I do not bite."
"Right," He laughed a little in relief, inching forward a bit to be at a little less awkward distance. "I just… had a question, if that was okay to bother you with. It's a healing question but not urgent," He hedged.
"I am quite free at the moment, never fear. Is this general knowledge then or something concerning your health then?"
"Ah… it's me." He admitted.
She nodded, unsurprised and beckoned him to come along, which he did hesitantly… it felt awkward to get to one of the white beds despite him not being in need of it, but at her firm head nod he hopped up on it anyway. He was not about to argue with her.
"It's not really a physical thing," He tried to explain but she just put a hand up and closed the curtains around them.
"Either way you are earned your privacy. If we both will it then they shall block out our conversation so feel free to speak plainly. I'm a healer so I assure you I've heard it all before."
Oh… that was a handy feature. He'd always wondered, since in the times he'd been here in the past he could definitely hear everything happening around him if he wanted to, but it was also always dead quiet if he was trying to sleep. He wondered how similar an enchantment it was to the one on the roof of the Slytherin common room, making it so only those intended to hear certain conversations could.
"Now Mr. Potter, what may I assist you with? Not a physical issue as you said, then…?" The older woman prompted briskly. She stood at attention before him with hands folded in front of her while he sat on the bed, so it really did feel like in spite of her ferocity she was just… here to serve. To help.He remembered his promise and clenched his jaw for a second to find his courage.
"Theo said you were a mind healer." He admitted quietly.
The Madam lifted her chin a bit, something odd on her face.
"Mr. Nott is extremely well informed." She said it as if it were news to her, but not that she was exactly surprised. "You believe there to be something in your mind in need of healing?"
"I'm not really sure… but I was reading these books on Occlumency and had been following some exercises about it and stuff… Hermione told me to read them last year since I had a bit of a temper."
"Learning Occlumency cannot harm you, even if you never develop shields or proficiency it is a good practice for anyone." She agreed.
"I had thought so too, going off the books, but then… last year. The thing... with Quirrell."
She didn't blink, but her eyes did soften.
"I had this—this mental image. The 'mindscape' or whatever it's called. I hadn't thought about it in forever but I tried to start practicing my Occlumency again and it's just—it's not there. From what I've read and what Theo said that's not good since your mindscape is supposed to be yours for a reason so for it to disappear is—I mean I'm just worried something is wrong or—"
"Mr. Potter." She cut him off, taking a short step forward to place a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "You do not need to be so concerned, the first step is to identify the problem and worrying about what that problem may be will do no one any good. It may be simply, it may be complicated… but fearing an unknown problem is unproductive." She assured him calmly.
That was… a good way to put it. He took a breath.
"Right." He agreed. "How do I figure out what the problem is then?"
"Before we get into that, I do appreciate your confidence in my ability, but I should clarify that I am not officially trained as a mind healer. Nor would I call the mental shields I have a suitable example of Occlumency itself. My ability is inherently different and purely a byproduct of my medical training— I would need to teach you to be a healer for you to learn it and I'd liken that to moving a mountain to block some sun in your eyes."
"Oh." That made some sense. "So… you can't help?"
"Now I never said that." She offered him a conspiratorial smile. "There are things I can do to diagnose the problem, even help you pinpoint it somewhat, but I cannot actually touch your shields or your mindscape. I can possibly help you understand what is wrong, but to fix it will be entirely up to you. It sounds as you only have a small understanding of Occlumency in the first place, so it may be an arduous task unfortunately."
"Well it's more than I have now." He sighed and she allowed small chuckle.
"If we do decide that neither of us are up to this task, don't be discouraged. There are others who are fully trained mind healers out there, I know a few personally who work with St. Mungos. I can have them step in if it becomes necessary, but I do hope it will not be."
"Thank you," He sighed, shoulders relaxing some. "What do I do then for now?"
He was expecting some kind of spell or diagnosing things, but she just folded her hands neatly again.
"Let us start at the beginning: what did your mindscape look like?"
"Oh," He blushed a bit, remember it's… morbid nature. "It's… kind of weird."
"I assure you I've seen it all, Mr. Potter. Surprise me."
"Ah… it was a graveyard." He admitted, and true to form she didn't even blink. "From the book I read you needed to know every single detail about it so I had everything planned, from the trees and the flowers and what it would look like in each season and so on. It needed some kind of separation between topics too and my 'topics' were really just people so, er, everyone… had a grave. I would decorate each grave with things I thought or knew about someone."
"How clever." The Madam was thankfully entirely unbothered by this. "Tell me everything about it, all those little details then, for as many graves as you can remember without visiting it right now."
So he did.
It felt like it took forever and at some point she summoned a glass of water for each of them to sip on, which he did thankfully as his mouth got dry. Eventually he ran out of things he could remember, worrying that his memory of it was getting too blurry from how long it'd been since he maintained it.
"What exactly is it that you fear might have happened, that night?" She prompted calmly.
He swallowed a sip of his water rather than the lump in his throat.
"I… I feel like he was there… not in the graveyard exactly but like…" He looked down at the water in his hands instead of her, to make it easier. "I had never given much thought to what was outside the yard, I didn't even fully realize back then that Occlumency was supposed to be something to protect you, not just something to help with memorization and stuff. So in my head the yard just kind of ended in this black space, or just where what I was imagining for my mindscape stopped and then there was just nothing else outside of it. Th-that night though I… I was pretty sure something was in that blank space and it…"
It was terrifying.
"I think I just… buried it, because I was scared." He admitted quietly. "But wherever it went, I haven't been able to get back to it since."
… there was a pause, long enough he lifted his head and was startled by the.. indescribalbly sad look on the old woman's face, standing before him.
"Madam?"
"Mr. Potter… Harry." She corrected herself, closing the distance once more to put hands on both his shoulders now in a steadying presence. "You simply have to look."
"Look?" He parroted, confused.
"Harry, look at me closely now… and stop."
Because he'd been meeting her gaze as instructed, the commanding tone alarmed him enough to freeze solid.
"Take a breath. Stop, for one moment. Do nothing but inhale, and feel the air enter your lungs."
Obeying automatically, he did just that, breathing in.
"And exhale." He complied. "Think of nothing. Stop."
He tried, he really did… tried to think of nothing but the air in his lungs and the moment in front of him, but he had no idea how this related to anything. After a long minute stretched into several though, he managed to relax enough that they weren't going anywhere until he focused and eventually he could kind of get used to it.
She moved a hand to lay on top of his head, but he knew it was nothing more than a touch. No magic, just… comfort.
"Close your eyes." She ordered, and he did.
…
"Relax your shoulders, your hands… be comfortable, lose the tension in your jaw and your neck."
…
"Think of nothing but your breath. Feel it come into your lungs and move out, think of how refreshed it feels. If gives you life as it comes in, and takes out everything stale and old as it leaves."
…
"Think of the heart inside your chest, how it pulses. Don't count them but listen to it without holding onto the sound, only the feeling."
…
"You are standing in front of a gate, are you not?"
…
"Open it."
000
Harry was suddenly looking into his own graveyard—covered in snow. It was the dead of winter and all the graves were covered in a thick layer of white, undisturbed. It was cold to the soul and blindingly bright from the sunlight reflecting off a world of icy, pure white.
000
He gasped, eyes snapping open in alarm and looking up in shock at the woman smiling sadly down at him.
"That worked!? But what—wait that…" He shook his head and she released her touch, not before patting him on the head gently.
"There is nothing wrong with you. You are fine, Mr. Potter." She assured his very confused eyes that were begging her for an explanation. "You just needed to stop, turn around, and look. I confess I'm no expert on the topic, but the mindscape portion of Occlumency… it was always meant to be the simple part. The part even children could learn, because it is nothing more than your imagination. The magic of it comes naturally, with time… and persistence." She gave him another kind smile with a pointed nod. "You have all of that in droves."
He was… stunned.
"I… don't feel like I have a lot of time."
Her eyes got very, very sad despite how her smile didn't waver. "I know. No child ever does." She allowed patiently. "But I'd reckon you never did at all."
He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he said nothing.
"If ever you are struggling with this again, the first step before going for medical help will definitely be to just take a moment for yourself. Have a calming draught, take a bath, just lie down and breathe for a bit… if simply using your imagination is difficult, it's not necessarily because of something complicated. It could be something very simple." She explained. "It can simply be being overwhelmed with life, with emotion and stimulus of all sorts, good and bad. Fear—or distraction from that fear to keep it from eating you."
He blinked up at her, and she thankfully heard his unspoken question.
"Many people know the feeling, Mr. Potter. I think you do too now." She sounded apologetic about it for some reason. "But that's the tricky thing about us Gryffindors: we're meant to be brave, but that doesn't exempt us from being humans who fear plenty of things, all the time. Even in exceptionally small, countless ways. Facing it, accepting it, working with it… that is how it becomes something simple that some deep breaths can fix, instead of needed to distract our lives away to manage it—to merely stay afloat even." She placed hand on his head again soothingly. "You are lucky to have so many Slytherin friends—perhaps ask them their thoughts on fear sometime."
He was not sure that he would, but it was interesting food for thought.
"There's really nothing wrong?" He couldn't help but ask.
"Nothing I and my mere human abilities can fix." She sighed. "As I said at the end of last year, it is perfectly alright if you don't feel alright. Natural even, for what you went through. And there is no time limit to that: you are perfectly within your right to be un-alright for as long as you need to be."
That's not true though. Someday I need to grow up. Someday what I feel will not trump my responsibilities or the people who depend on me.
But… I guess it's true enough for now.
"Would you like to talk about it?" She offered, but it sounded like she already suspected the answer.
"No, that's okay." He managed to get out politely. "I just think that I need to think it over a bit more."
"Whatever you want… I would be a willing ear if you had any more questions or concerns of any sort."
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." He really was grateful, even if he was kind of… shaken. Uneasy. "Can I stay here while I wait for Draco?"
"Of course, the bed is yours. I'm sure you haven't seen your mindscape in some time so a nap might go a long way in repairing some things that have been left unattended. He'll be here when you awake."
He smiled, thanking her again as she left without another word.
It was a relief in more ways than one, to be alone finally after that. It was also kind of… weird feeling, to lie down and close his eyes again, trying to cling to the relaxed sensation he just had, and snatch back something he'd thought out of his grip forever.
000
The first thing Harry did was run to his parents' graves.
'Run' might've been a strong word, he jogged through the snow as fast as he could but he wasn't running, just moving with a sense of urgency. The snow was thankfully thinner than his first visit to the graveyard after so long away, barely an inch now and easy to walk through just so long as he was careful not to trip on the wet earth beneath the bright white covering. He wasn't cold either, just his cheeks a bit from the windchill but he was wearing the red coat that Remus had written runes inside to keep perfectly warm despite the weather.
There were no flowers, since it was winter and all that. Unfortunately that made the entire place feel a lot more lonely than it did in other seasons, when there were plants and wildlife out and about. You used to be able to see his mother's grave from a good distance down the aisle from all the white lilies and daisies that had been piled around it, but now it was just another grey stone amongst a lot of other various stone markers.
Now that he thought about it, before he'd woken up in front of that mirror with Quirrell, he'd had a dream. He'd been at his father's grave and Sirius' had moved closer, and he'd never really looked back on that night long enough to really think about why that had been. A mental space wasn't a trance or a dream, it was… something else. Something he had way more control of, even if sometimes his own subconscious sprung things on him.
Like the diamond paw-print clip.
When he got to James and Lily Potter's graves, he wasn't shocked to see nothing had changed except now the flowers that used to be around them were gone, replaced by a fine layering of snow. What he'd really been here to see though… was the two new graves beside them.
The entire line had been rearranged, as if they'd always been here now, with Sirius Black's headstone resting silently beside James Potter's, and beside Sirius—was Remus Lupin.
He hadn't consciously made this decision… but somehow his mind had done it for him, even if he hadn't been back here knowingly in months. It did make sense though, now that he knew more about these people. By the few, yet precious things Remus had let slip about the Sirius he'd once known, Harry now believed too that Padfoot would've wanted nothing more than to be buried next to his best friend.
And Remus… well, Moony had suffered over a decade at this point, being separated from Padfoot. Maybe he hadn't said it outright but every line of his face had been washed in pain when they'd had that dark conversation, and Harry knew deep down Remus wanted to be here so badly, even if on the surface he felt he didn't deserve to be.
He went to Sirius' grave, to his real target… an innocuous hairclip, left atop the granite headstone.
He touched it, feeling how cold it was as he dusted off the snow and rolled it over his palm. It felt real, because he imagined it to be real… but it also made something uneasy slide down into his stomach.
"…Padfoot, huh?" He said absently to the grave. "How did I know you had paws?"
He almost half believed there'd never been a paw print hairclip here, that he was retroactively imagining things after hearing Moony's stories but… as he held it in his hand now, it felt real. It felt like it'd always been here.
"If I'm not crazy then… somehow I knew. How did I know?" He knelt in front of it, brushing off the snow and gently placing the clip back where it'd been. He used his gloved hands to rid the rest of it of the snow covering its face, revealing that not much had changed since last he been here. What had changed though… was the inscription.
Sirius Black A Loyal Friend
Not many graves had inscriptions… so that was new.
"You have to be innocent. You have to come back… not just for but for Moony too." He told the grave, and though he received no answer it still felt like something had lifted off his shoulders.
He looked to the side, examining Remus' grave now too… and blinked to realize there were flowers somehow surviving this weather. The light grey stone was now framed in two small white rose bushes, the petals fully bloomed despite the fact that was not possible with this much snow on the ground and this much chill in the air.
He crawled from Sirius' grave over to Moony's to sit curiously in front of it, before it hit him.
"You know, I was thinking about it, when you were reading 'Alice in Wonderland'… if this world is Wonderland then I wonder who everyone would be. Does this mean you're the white knight? Or the white queen…" He frowned… there was no need to be polite here, inside his own mind he supposed. "No… you're the white king, aren't you? One of the most important pieces in the game, but the one who can do the least. The one who did the least."
He touched the roses briefly, and true to form they were ice cold but still soft as silk instead of frozen.
He stood then, walking down the rows with mind racing.
"Draco has to be the white rabbit, he's the one who lead me here. Theo is probably the dorm mouse… though I've been stuck, since I could never decide if Blaise was the Chesire cat or the Mad Hatter." He paused, tilting his head and looked down the neighboring isle where Blaise's mausoleum was—he hadn't exactly tried it but he knew it was locked so he didn't get closer to it. He turned on his heel and walked back towards the entrance, looking up at the iron gates as he approached them. "Or maybe I'm too egotistical to think I'm Alice, maybe I'm the Mad Hatter."
He stood under the wrought iron archway and looked out into the darkness—the unimagined-ness beyond this little graveyard he'd meticulously created. He knew every detail of what was inside here, but everything beyond that…
He remembered imagining this was the Journey to the Center of the Earth, that the darkness were caves upon caves and this little paradise was something kept safe at the core of a planet. It had been a last-ditch effort to protect himself, something done on pure instinct when he'd apparently sensed an intruder get too close.
He could do better though.
"What was it the white queen said…? it's not 'because' but 'until'." He took a steady breath and concentrated, imagining outside his graveyard the lush grass immediately shifting to barren stone, the sky disappearing into a large cave that was poorly lit but the light coming off his graveyard casting just enough to see how it traveled away endlessly into the darkness.
In front of the gate open, before entering, he framed it with two huge braziers. Made of soot-covered stone, wide enough for him to lay down comfortably in but not very deep.
He filled them with fire, burning on nothing physical but it wasn't hard to fuel it in other ways. The oxygen in the air of the cave was devoured eagerly, making it rather hard to breathe out there, but not impossible.
"Six impossible things before breakfast," He said to himself, and the spell was set.
Cause and effect meant nothing in wonderland. The white queen screamed in pain until, not because, she pricked her finger on her broach. In this wonderland you needed to burn yourself before, not because, you touched the burning braziers standing guard.
He could do better, he knew he could. For now though… you had to really like muggle children's stories to get close to this gate again.