Chapter Text
Harry had just left breakfast, hoping to find a table at the Library to try to add some more to his Transfiguration essay when he heard it.
“Potter!” Snape’s voice snarled from behind him.
Harry froze. He recognized how angry Snape’s tone was, and as he turned around he saw the rage in the man’s eyes. Harry took a few steps back to put some more space between him and Snape’s rapidly approaching footsteps.
“Imagine my surprise at seeing you alive and well at breakfast this morning, when I was convinced you must’ve been taken by the Dark Lord himself in order to skip our lesson yesterday,” Snape said.
Harry’s jaw dropped and he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. His Occlumency lesson! He had slept all afternoon and evening, and when we woke up he went down to work with Hermione. It had escaped his mind that yesterday was Tuesday, the day he was supposed to have Occlumency lessons with Snape.
He was so taken aback and embarrassed at having forgotten about his lesson he tried to open his mouth to sputter out an apology, before forgetting that he still wasn’t able to talk. Harry groaned and hit his forehead with his hand again.
Snape made a sound of annoyance. “Potter for Merlin’s sake stop hitting yourself and just take out your notebook!” Snape exclaimed. “I require an explanation for why you thought you would waste my time yesterday instead of informing me that you would be missing your lesson.”
Harry nodded quickly then held up his pointer finger to signal “one second” as he pulled his notebook and quill out of his bag and started to write as he held up his notebook on his fingers.
“I was sick yesterday, sir. I didn’t go to any of my classes and slept most of the day.”
Harry turned his notebook around so Snape could read it, then offered a lame cough to sell the notion that he had been sick.
Snape read his notebook then looked him over from top to bottom, obviously studying him for any lasting illness or possible other ailments.
“And you chose not to inform me, why?” Snape asked icily.
Harry winced then started to shrug, but when he caught how Snape was glaring down his nose at him he wrote:
“I forgot, I’m sorry sir.”
Snape made a noise in the back of his throat that was anything but pleasant. “You seem to forget time and time again that the universe does not revolve around you, Potter. We had made arrangements for your lessons to continue every Tuesday, and yesterday was no exception. If you were ill you should have the decency to inform me via a note from your owl or by one of your classmates.”
Harry hung his head, feeling properly reprimanded and embarrassed, knowing that he messed up.
“My time is valuable, and if you waste it again, I will go straight to the Headmaster and personally demand that you be shipped straight to St. Mungo’s,” Snape threatened.
Harry frantically shook his head, and waved his hands in front of him, trying to show Snape he wouldn’t waste his time again.
“Are you still ill at the present time?” Snape asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.
Harry shook his head.
“Then you can make up your lesson this evening instead,” Snape said, his lips curling up. “After you serve a detention with me as a consequence for skipping yesterday’s lesson.”
Harry nodded, then looked at Snape expectantly, waiting to see if the man was going to take points too. But Snape apparently had nothing further to say to him because he dismissed Harry with a pointed look as he said, “My office. Directly after dinner tonight,” and with a swoosh of his robes he was gone.
Harry rolled his head to the ceiling and blew air up at his fringe. He was lucky he had escaped Snape taking points, but now he had to deal with a double dose of the man, first in detention, and then with the man poking around his head in his Occlumency lesson. Ugh. Harry stuffed his notebook back in his bag then made his way to the Library, even though he no longer was in the mood to work on his essay.
*****
Snape ended up setting Harry the detention of scrubbing cauldrons that evening. Harry couldn't help himself from wondering if these cauldrons were all from potions Snape had been brewing himself, or if the man had requested Slughorn send him cauldrons from his class for Harry to clean. Harry shrugged to himself. There weren't that many cauldrons for him to scrub, so Harry suspected these were leftovers from Snape's own personal brewing that he had saved for Harry to do.
Once he had finished the last of the cauldrons, Harry approached Snape and with a clearing of his throat he pointed to the drying cauldrons.
Snape looked up at Harry, then his eyes darted to the cauldrons as he set his quill down.
“Let me confirm they are all clean to my satisfaction,” Snape declared as he swept over to inspect the cauldrons.
Harry sighed, then inspected his fingernails as he waited for Snape to return. After a few seconds he heard the clanging of the cauldrons magically being returned to their cupboards and Snape had returned to his office.
“Take your seat Potter,” Snape commanded as he returned to stand behind his desk and with a flick of his wand stacked the papers he had just been perusing at the corner of his desk.
Once that was done, Snape turned the corner of his desk so he was looking at Harry. He appeared to be analyzing Harry for longer than normal, causing Harry to squirm in his seat at his gaze.
“You seemed to recover from your illness remarkably quickly if you felt well enough to attend classes today and still are able to breeze through cleaning a significant amount of cauldrons in such a short time. I would think someone recovering from such illness would tire out from the arduous labor of cauldron scrubbing, but you, Mr. Potter, don’t look the least bit worn out from such activity.”
Harry forced another quiet cough, then made a show of stretching his hands and fingers in front of him, pretending his muscles were sore when they really weren’t exerted that badly.
“I think you weren’t really sick yesterday,” Snape started in a low voice. “I think you wanted to skive off on your lessons so you had time to run amok in the castle, getting into mischief while no one was watching. Just what were you up to yesterday, Potter?”
Harry frantically shook his head. Great, now Snape believed he faked being sick yesterday to get into trouble somewhere in the castle. Harry quickly pulled his notebook out of his bag and wrote:
I really was sick yesterday, sir. You can check with the Fat Lady or anyone in Gryffindor, I didn’t leave the Tower all day.
Harry pushed his notebook towards Snape, his eyebrows raising in what he was trying to convey was his most earnest expression.
Snape read what Harry had written and only narrowed his eyebrows further as he whipped out his wand. He aimed it at Harry and Harry braced himself, ready for the invasion of his mind to come, but it never did. After a few seconds Harry looked up at Snape curiously, willing him to explain what he had just done.
“Diagnostic spell,” Snape announced, as he read through the list of floating words and numbers that were hovering in between him and Harry. “And will you look at that - no high temperature, no lingering congestion, irritation, or other ailments for Harry Potter to note,” Snape sneered. “Seeing as you are perfectly healthy without the slightest hint of any lasting illness today - and yes Potter if you had an illness yesterday it would still show up on a diagnostic spell today - I suggest you come clean about why you skipped all your lessons yesterday. And what it was you were up to in the castle yesterday when you were claiming to be asleep in Gryffindor Tower,” Snape finished icily.
Harry glared back for a moment before sighing and grabbing his notebook back to write.
I wasn’t really ‘sick’ yesterday, but I had a nightmare and felt too ill after it to attend my lessons. So I stayed in the Tower the entire day. That’s the truth.
Harry pushed his notebook back to Snape, this time unable to hide the annoyance that crept into his expression at being forced to reveal to Snape that his nightmares were so bad he had to skip class.
As Snape read what he had written, his expression was as inscrutable as ever. There was a beat and Harry was trying to figure out if the man was going to rage at him for skipping class when he wasn’t really sick or berate him for getting so worked up over something as insignificant as a nightmare. What he said next took Harry by complete surprise.
“The night before you had this nightmare - did you practice clearing your head?” Snape said slowly, as if he was talking to a first year with minimal comprehension skills.
Harry instantly felt his cheeks heat up as he shook his head no.
“Potter, how many times must we keep doing this dance? I ask you to practice, you nod and promise you will, and then you don’t, even though clearing your head before bed is one of the most effective ways to ensure a peaceful sleep cycle. You could stop your nightmares from plaguing you by practicing the Occlumency you swore you were going to,” Snape said, the disgust evident in his voice.
Snape placed his hands on the table in front of Harry to stare him down.
“We will start today’s lesson with thirty minutes of clearing your mind. Wand on the desk and palms flat on the desk.” Snape watched as Harry did what he was instructed as he swept back behind his desk to sit down. “Concentrate on ridding yourself of excess thoughts. Clear your mind and focus on your breathing.”
Clear his mind of excess thoughts? That was awfully hard when he was terrified of seeing another nightmare of his friends dying. What if he fell asleep and had a nightmare in front of Snape when he was supposed to just be focusing on his breathing. No, he couldn’t fall asleep, Harry thought to himself as he squirmed in his chair.
“I can practically hear your thoughts they are being so loud,” Snape said, annoyed by Harry’s pitiful attempt in front of him.
Harry’s jaw dropped as he opened his eyes. Snape could hear his thoughts even when his eyes were closed? He looked at Snape and furrowed his brow in concern as he gestured from his eyes to Snape’s with his hand.
“No you idiotic child I am not able to actually hear your thoughts when your eyes are closed. It was an expression to remark on what a terrible job you were doing on clearing your head when I could tell by your fidgeting your mind was anything but clear,” Snape snarled.
“Now eyes closed and clear your mind,” Snape instructed.
Focus, focus, Harry repeated to himself. His mind kept drifting to his annoyance with Snape, first that the man didn’t believe him that he was sick yesterday (okay he wasn’t, but still), and then the fact that he had broken him out of his concentration moments ago to call him stupid for the fact that his mind wandered when he was supposed to be concentrating. It was hard to prevent, Harry thought to himself, then immediately sighing because he realized he was doing it again. He forced himself to take regular, even breathes as he focused on nothing but his breathing. In and out, in and out, until he got lulled into the familiar cycle, and the only thought that occupied his mind was his breathing.
Although he was grounded in his chair and with his palms on the desk, he wasn’t focused on his sense of touch at all. He felt like he was weightless in the ocean, floating somewhere outside his body, except he didn’t have to worry about waves crashing over him or sun getting in his eyes. The calm and quiet was enveloping him, finally allowing his mind a break from his worries and the fear of his nightmares.
That was, until he was being pulled out of his dream-like state by the rough voice of his grumpy professor.
“Potter. Potter! Open your eyes now.” Harry looked up, blinking in Snape’s office that usually seemed so dim, but now seemed like the lights were brighter than ever. Harry wanted to grumble about being ripped out of his peaceful headspace so abruptly, but recognized that probably wasn’t a good idea to complain about that to Snape right now. He absentmindedly rubbed one of his eyes as he looked at Snape for further instruction.
“It seems you were more successful in this attempt than the previous, is that correct?” Snape questioned.
Harry nodded.
“That is what you should be doing every night before bed,” Snape said reproachfully. “Seeing as I have just witnessed you clear your mind in what appeared to be a successful manner, I expect you to be practicing this method every day now, yes?”
Harry looked up and nodded, even though inside he was doubting if he would be able to find that inner calm again in the hustle and bustle of Gryffindor Tower.
“Wand out. Prepare yourself,” Snape instructed.
Harry felt the apprehension spreading in his stomach. Just because he was able to clear his mind earlier during the absolute quiet of Snape’s office, didn’t mean he was going to be able to focus his attention on keeping the man out of his head when he was invading it.
And Harry’s nervousness clearly showed in his performance, as Snape sneered at him after many failed attempts to block off his mind that he was showing “abysmal progress”, and that he wanted him out of his sight for the rest of the evening.
*****