a/n: this chapters probably really confusing. It'll probably go under EXTREEEMME editing! published december 5, 2016
Her neck was extremely itchy, the rock that prevented the pain of her vocals sitting there with all its beauty. Darcy hated taking the thing off, as it was a risk of losing her voice—again.
The Slytherin common room was filled with students at the start of December. There were excited whispers about what would happen for the second task, though since Harry hadn't figure it out, Darcy hadn't put it under her priorities at the moment.
It was the time of week, now--not month anymore.
She walked at a slow pace that evening, not caring for the odd looks she received.
It had been something that Darcy didn't like to think about everyday. It's what made her in such a bad mood most of the time.
This started during the the first weeks of school, when she'd experienced episodes of depression—a term Ophelia had been using frankly after her lessons with Snape, though Ophelia didn't know about to.
Now, Snape—he was quite interested to see why Darcy had been selected for the rare cursed gift. How her silence was any part of it. He was kinder to her—and it was nice to not deal with his remarks about her father.
So, for twelve years or so, Darcy had oppressed her ability to release her more available access to navigate through the "many layers of a person's mind". It was an act that allowed her to flow through a person's mind, feel what they feel in certain situations.
"How long have you experienced flashes of, say, memories, in your previous years?" Snape had said one evening on their first lessons. "It's crucial that your seemingly adaptful mind has wanted to reach into minds, but you've been oppressing it, correct?"
Darcy stared at him. "Second year, I was able to look into Amandla Picquery's mind and see her grandmother, Seraphina Picquery...Amandla was pretty freaked out too, said that she just had a vision about her grandma...After that, I was too scared to even talk to her anymore."
Amandla Picquery was pressured by her mother to not follow in her grandmothers footsteps: which was, the president of MACUSA (Magical Congress of the U.S.A.). From seeing Amandla's memories, Darcy got the idea that Amandla's mother thought that it was no work for a woman to be President. (According to history, Seraphina Picquery was the greatest president to handle no-maj secrecy, but was very insensitive and reacted under pressure.)
He shook his head in mock disappointment. "That's when you pushed back your mind?"
From her chair, Darcy nodded stiffly. She didn't know where this was going, but after that, Snape had allowed her to try to get into his head. He picked out a few memories for her to see, as she actually successfully infiltrated his mind. She'd seen Snape, in his perspective, try to reverse a curse that was making—what appears to be—a younger Harry's broom moving at its own will.
Snape was surprised and dismissed her to leave. He congratulated her rather dully.
December had began just as dull for Darcy as well. Her birthday was nearing in January, and she wasn't sure of she was actually excited at all.
Her lesson for the night was what made everything...interesting.
"I assume your aunt doesn't know that you are taking these classes?" he said right after she took her seat in the potions class.
She shivered, and glanced away from Snape and to the door.It was a chilly evening, and she wore tons of layers that could've added on fifty pounds.
"No, she doesn't—about me being a Legilimens."
"But you would even tell Potter," he sneered. "I thought that you had more decency, to put more trust in adults than a silly boy."
Flushing, Darcy glared at him. She was going to retort back, but remembered that he was her teacher, for Legilimency and Potions.
"I haven't said a word to anyone," Darcy said through gritted teeth. "I've kept my lessons to myself—I don't want make anyone uncomfortable."
To be honest, she found it odd that Snape was a practiced Legilimency and Occlumency. Was he able to read her mind right at this—you know what? Not right now. Learn.
"Very modest," Snape glowered. "But, that's not what today's lesson is."
"So...no going through your mind?"
"No, you're finished. You passed this 'class' better than any others that have tried. Which—" he said harshly, "—is what will lead to why you experience so much pain when speaking without that." He gestured to the celestial rock around her neck.
Her hand reached up to touch the rock. "Since when did my rock have to do with Legilimency—that sounds like rubbish!" she said, her eyes wide with shock. "It only a meteorite that landed in the lakes, that merpeople had embedded with sacred magic—that's all."
Snape looked doubtfully at her. "That's whats in that silly, American textbook of yours."
Darcy was about to retort, but her mouth shut close. It was best for her to listen. How in the world could this rock effect her? It's only ever done good.
"Celestial rocks are meteorites embedded with sacred magic. Though, it's much more different on how it affects certain wizards. It can affect werewolves differently—make them receive an extended transformation per month, but keep their sanity safe. Seers often react badly to celestial rocks, it tends to make them see more reliable visions. And—"
His black eyes had looked at her confused face. "—and I know you can't guess what I'm teaching you."
"This rock has done nothing wrong, if that's what your saying. I don't feel pain when I speak and I will never take it off."
Snaps clicked his tongue, glaring down at her. He looked sickly pale, more so than ever and in a rush.
"Evasiveness doesn't get you anywhere," he sneered. "Do you think the merpeople are going to grant that sacred magic to you until you die?"
Oh. When he puts it that way... She pursed her lips tight in silent embarrassment.
"The merpeople will take back the rock, and when they ask, you cannot say no.
"But when the rock comes off, and its protective magic is gone, there is a way that--hypothetically--could relieve your pain. A reason why your head throbs so much without the rock. Pushing back your mind from its natural need effected you greatly. Your silent curse not only made you mute, but made every action that you did silent."
Darcy reeled back, how could he know that her movements were—?
"You spoke to Ophelia!" Darcy shrieked, standing up and glaring. "That must've meant that you told her what I can do!"
Snake didn't flinch, but only stared at her with his heavy lids and bored expression. "It was not my fault that you did not mention your aunt didn't know of our lessons. Now she does. Sit back down."
Fuming, Darcy does so, listening once again.
"As I was saying, the curse had made everyone in you mute. It's the same analogy as the celestial rock: the rock will effect certain wizards...just as a bloodquill can kill a werewolf...just as curses can pain legilimency-prone minds.
"There aren't many Legilimens that can adapt so quickly to the practice like you. The term 'Legilimency-prone' is what defines those wizards. Your curse deeply deterred your vocals, which means that when you speak your own mind cannot handle it. However, when--not if--the rock is returned, your Legilimency can help with that pain."
There was so much knowledge and theory that Snape said. It didn't seem rather...far-fetched, actually. No ounce of what Snape said convinced Darcy fully.
So she was left to her own thoughts for the time being. Snape had told her that she should practice speaking witout the rock—to practice Legilimency on herself. At first, Darcy didn't understand how she can basically search through her own memories. How would that allow her to speak—?
"Then," said Darcy skeptically, "how?"
Snape, seemingly pleased, had waved his wand and summoned her rock to him.
Surprised, Darcy attempted to reach for the rock, but Snape had held his hand up.
"Don't worry," he said, "I'll be taking this until the end of the lesson. Try to clear your thoughts, calm your body—and most importantly, find yourself in your mind."
"You make it sound so easy," muttered Darcy, seating herself. She sighed, and laid herself on top of the table. She relaxed, as though she were going to sleep, but her mind would be awake.
Snape's desk drawer had opened, and he placed something in there.
The small act was enough for her to peak her eyes open, but closed them before she could see anything. Focus. Relax—and calmly navigate though your mind.
For a moment, it seemed as though her body was levitated, but still intact. Darcy had felt her chest rise—and then there was a beat! A heart beat—it had to be. Then, as she exhaled—it was as though the dust around her...the air had made a whoosh!
The sudden thumps of her breath, travelling through her throat, and flowing so easy. If only...if only she could speak as smooth... When her heart beat accelerated—she was very excited now—Darcy had jumped up, her eyes wide.
"Have—have you ever tried to navigate through your mind?" said Darcy, her voice breathless with excitement—
From his desk, Snape shook his head, but he had a sort of pleased look in his eyes.
It took Darcy a few seconds to realize—she'd spoken—and it did not hurt. But, as Darcy went to say something else, it was a light throb that made her gargle a little.
"You did it," Snape said, impressed. He handed her the rock. "You may go, Darcy—this time, bring Professor Black with you."
With his kind words, Darcy left, feeling accomplished.