Power He Knows Not

A Meer Inconvenience

Just would not cooperate. 

The next day Hogwarts was empty before breakfast, leaving Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys the sole occupants of Gryffindor tower.

Uninterested in food, Harry spent the day in the library, finishing his essays and searching the bookcases for anything that sounded like it might explain 'occlumency' or Soul magic. He found nothing on the later, but managed to find a single, very thin booklet on mind magicks. Leafing through it, he found an explanation as to what occlumency was, but nothing about how to learn it.

It was just after lunchtime when Harry replaced the books to where he had found them. Deciding he still wasn't hungry, he turned to the stairs up, thinking of heading to the Room of Requirement to practice his wordless casting.

It was not to be, as he ran into trouble just off the fifth floor. Literally.

Two sixth year Slytherins were coming down the staircase, side by side, leaving no room for Harry to get by. The taller of the two slammed his shoulder into Harry's, knocking the Gryffindor into the railing, nearly sending him over the edge as the stair started to move suddenly.

"Watch where you're going, Potter." The older boy spat, his friend sneering at Harry.

Harry's grip on the rail tightened, and he threw a glare at them both as he righted himself as much he could while the stairs was still moving.

"You know Timothy," the shorter one began, a gleam in his eyes that had Harry's stomach dropping, "you were complaining about needing to practice that one spell for Mcgonagall. I'm sure a courageous Gryffindor like Potter would be happy to help."

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck pricked, as his bad feeling got worse; this could only mean trouble.

"You know, you're right Mark." Timothy said, already pulling his wand.

Just then the stairs judded to a halt, leading to a corridor pointed away from Gryffindor tower.

While the two boys righted themselves, Harry, who'd been ready for it, took the final steps two at a time, hoping to make it behind a nearby suit of armor so he would have a chance to draw his wand unimpeded. He had a thought of that summer; in Diagon Alley, Riddle had mentioned a wand holster, but Harry hadn't gotten around to getting one. He sorely wished he had now.

Timothy sent an orange spell at him, which he ducked. It instead ricocheted off the suit of armor and impacted the wall across from it with a bang.

Harry had just reached the alcove when another spell hit him from behind, sending him sprawling. He pushed himself up just as Timothy yelled,

"Subcinctus Easse!"

Harry rolled over, trying to avoid it, but the last thing he saw was a streak of blue hurtling towards him, before everything turned black.

T-M-R = H-J-P 

Snape was patrolling the upper floors, when he came across two of his students lurking in a corridor on the fifth floor.

"Mceirlington, Liddle, if you both are intent on neglecting your studies, I can think of many more constructive things to do than stare at a wall; I have frog spleens that need pickling. Or I am sure Filch would be more then happy to show you two all the trophies in need of a polish, if that is more your intrest."

They both jumped at the sound of his voice, whirling around to face him, Liddle looking decidedly guilty.

With a muttered 'no Professor' they both hastened down the nearby stair, neither daring to look back as they barely constrained themselves from running.