Chapter 25

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January 1998

One snowflake fluttering down landing on a frozen pond. Another snowflake drifting down, joining the first snowflake, melting into it. A third snowflake-

"What are you doing?"

Hermione jumped and nearly fell off the porch chair prompting a huge laugh from Harry. He emerged from the front door, hugging himself in a coat loosely closed over his pajamas and sipping hot coffee. His black hair was spiking out everywhere. It was even more disheveled in the morning than usual.

"Practicing," Hermione grumbled, righting herself and getting back into the chair.

She had been sitting calmly, trying to clear her mind the way her Legilimency mentor had taught her. Being her roommate, Lavender was used to her meditating every morning and evening but Hermione wanted some fresh air for a change, despite the wintery cold. She thought it would be too early for anyone to catch her in the act but forgot Harry would occasionally rise at the crack of dawn.

Harry turned to her with a loud slurp of his coffee, extremely amused. "Practicing what exactly?"

Hermione glared at him. She wouldn't be able to clear her head of thoughts this morning, that was certain now.

"Occlumency."

He snorted. "That's not how Snape taught me."

She raised an eyebrow. "And he taught you so well."

"Touché."

Now she was curious about how Harry had been taught. Hermione knew she was making progress and that Harry had been absolutely abysmal at Occlumency. She had always assumed it was because he didn't have the discipline required. And also because it was Snape teaching him, whom he hated and had no desire to learn from. Maybe Snape had a different style of instruction from her mentor.

She wondered who taught Malfoy. If it had been Snape or someone else.

"How did Snape teach you?"

He sipped his coffee, looking off into the distance as he remembered fifth year. "First he'd insult me or my father or both of us – always the same insults, absolutely no originality there, sodding murderer – then he'd tell me to clear my mind and prepare myself – whatever that meant – and say 'Legilimens.'"

Harry spoke the last word in an imitation of Snape's superior sounding drawl and Hermione laughed. He hugged his coat tighter around his body and walked over to her.

"So he actually spoke the incantation?"

"Yeah," Harry cocked his head. "How else would he do it?"

"Nonverbally?" Hermione suggested, as if it were obvious. "So that you don't actually know that he's doing it?"

"What?" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief and he spilled a bit of his coffee on the porch. "Is that possible? How can you not know? It hurt like hell, with every memory that he pulled from me!"

"It hurt?"

She didn't ever feel her mentor entering her mind. Sometimes Hermione could see the memories that the older witch was seeing, but not always. Her mentor only showed her what she was looking at to make a point. Not because it was an artifact of the spell.

Harry nodded slowly. "Like a mother fucker. I felt really bad for you when you said you had to learn."

"No wonder you hated learning from him."

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