Indifference Towards Difference || Harry Potter

11 | Occulemency: Take Two

"Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart."
Haruki Murakami

~~~

"Welcome back, Mr Potter," Snape said with dark delight.

Good to see someone here's having fun.

Harry shifted awkwardly in the much too big and empty room. One thing he knew for certain was that Snape would make him regret what had happened at dinner.

"You are here, once more, to learn the art of Occulemency. After your pathetically dismal attempt at it last year, and your failure resulting in some rather... severe consequences, perhaps you will take this second chance seriously, pay attention and practice."

The reminder of those 'severe consequences', of Harry's failure made him feel deathly cold. He knew it was his fault Sirius had died; when his nights weren't spend watching visions of Voldemort's sick form of fun, his nightmares had been warped in every fashion to remind him of that. But to hear it aloud... it made Harry want to throw glass just to hear it break.

"But we'll see how much you have retained from our lessons last year. If you manage to learn anything at all, that is." The cruel smirk was the only warning for Snape's next word. "Legilimens!"

Harry running blindly through the Chamber of Secrets, hands outstretched... a jar of cockroaches exploded near his head... Sirius disappearing beyond the veil, the laughter not quite having died from his face—

No no no, not again—

A place of safety and security... Harry delved deep into the comforting dark depths of his cupboard, before slamming the door shut.

***

Snape had been enjoying the chaotic run of Potter's memories.

Merlin, the boy really hadn't learnt from last year, had he?

A glimpse of a gloomy chamber, dimly lit... flinching at a blur of movement and overwhelming sense of panic... Black slipping through the curtain—

The memories stopped.

Snape found himself lost in an endless darkness.

Interesting.

He wandered slightly, determined to find any sign of Potter's pesky presence. Occasionally, he entertained himself with sending out mental prods, hoping to bait the boy out of whatever sanctum or barrier he had chosen to protect himself.

His search led him only to a rather tiny cupboard under a set of stairs.

This... this proved it all. Madness was contagious amongst death-courting Gryffindors. First that bumbling old coot risking his life with that blasted ring, and now the destined Saviour of the Wizarding World had a cupboard under the stairs as his mental shield.

Merlin save us all.

Snape tugged casually against the cupboard door, expecting it to open immediately for all the memories to come flooding out. Only to his suprise, it stayed shut. He pulled a little harder, before yanking the door with as much force he could mentally muster.

Nothing.

He tried a mental unlocking curse. Pummelling a sledgehammer at it. A blasting curse had made the door wince and waver slightly, but it still held strong.