I hope our story has a happier ending

a hurricane like me

It's Andy who puts it together, two days later when Harry is less frantic and the Weasleys are at St. Mungo's visiting their father.

Her lip curls with disgust, and for a moment Harry worries she's disgusted with him, but then she says, "it's one of them."

Hermione's the first to catch on, gasping before gripping Harry's wrist tightly; when he looks to her questioningly, she says, "a horcrux, Harry. The snake is a horcrux. That's why you saw through its eyes while seeing as Voldemort. God, the kind of dark magic to make a living creature a vessel..."

Remus taps one finger on the table thoughtfully, expression grim. "As much as I'm glad to have identified another, this confirms he made more than just the diary and the locket. If there's at least three, we have no idea how many more are out there."

"There has to be a limit," Harry wonders aloud, eyes wide. "I mean, you can only split your soul so many times, right?"

"I'm sure there is, pup, but no one would know what it is. As far as I know, no one's ever made more than one or two and lived to tell the tale before. The way it fractures one's being, one's sanity..."

Harry nods. "Yeah, starting to understand why the dude thought a one year old was his mortal enemy."

Hermione bites her lip, eyes storming with worry. "While of course I'm glad the Order was able to save Arthur in time...this seems dangerous, if Voldemort can make you see what he's seeing."

Andy nods in agreement. "Even more than that—a mental link means he could make you see things even when he's notactually seeing them; he could plant anything he imagines in your head."

"He needs to learn Occlumency," Sirius says with a grim set to his face.

"Occlumency?" Hermione asks, brow furrowed with the intense worry she displays any time she's ignorant about something potentially crucial.

Sirius rubs at his jaw. "Merlin, I can't believe I didn't think to teach the two of you ages ago...I am so sorry. What an oversight on my part."

"We all forgot—don't beat yourself up about it," Andy chides gently. "It's a lapse, but perhaps one that was meant to be, for Arthur's sake."

"Occlumency is—mental shielding, so to speak," Sirius explains, expression stoic. "It protects your thoughts and memories from legilimency, which is the opposite—invading another person's mind, accessing their thoughts and feelings. Think—mental battles, so to speak."

Harry drags his palms down his face. "Mind reading is real, too? Christ. I quit."

"How is this not something we've been made aware of—with the Order, or at Hogwarts, or anything?" Hermione demands, eyes wide.

Sirius winces, but it's Remus who speaks up, giving his husband a look like he'll hex him if he doesn't stop feeling guilty. "It's not in the general curriculum because legilimency is incredibly difficult, and thus exceedingly real. Only the most skilled, inherently powerful, and practiced witches and wizards are able to use it, so the average person generally has no need to become adept at Occlumency."

"One good thing Walburga ever taught me, I suppose," Sirius mutters, "although more of a Black stipulation than her own foresight. We can start over the break, but you'll need much more practice when you get back to Hogwarts...perhaps Dumbledore would be willing to teach you."

"No," Hermione bites out, arms crossed. "I don't trust him to dig through Harry's mind—he'd be intentionally invasive, use it to his means."

Harry grimaces, then tilts his head thoughtfully. "I agree. I'd rather Dumbledore not...and I don't want to risk him knowing about our friendship with Draco, because god knows what he'd do with the information."