Chapter Five

AN at the end.

"Hello, Potter." Snape didn't seem all too pleased to see him, his usual sneer on his face. "Has the Headmaster told you about your Occlumency sessions?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. Beside him, Kaneki was examining the crystal vial Snape had handed to him before the lesson, the silvery liquid sloshing gently. "But why does he think I need it?"

"You are no master at subtlety, Potter. But to answer your question, the Dark Lord is a very skilled user of Legilimency,—"
"What's that, sir?"

"—the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind—" Snape said, glaring at the interruption, but Harry butted in again. "So it's something like mind reading?"

"Do not interrupt me, Potter," Snape said frostily. "No, Legilimency is not mind reading. Mind reading is a concept invented by Muggles—" his tone turned condescending—"and has no relation to actual Legilimency. The mind is not an open book for everyone to read; however, a trained wizard can penetrate the walls of the mind and take the information."

What Snape was describing sounded exactly like mind reading.

Kaneki, who had stopped shaking the vial but still had not uncapped it, stared at Snape with curious intent. "Could you try invading my mind, Professor?" He asked.

Snape sent him a look that could only be best described as…unease? Tension? But all he said was, "Your memories—"
"I'm well aware," Kaneki said. He uncapped the vial. "Appropriate timing for your potion, Professor," he said, and swallowed. Harry only watched in confusion as Kaneki capped the now empty bottle, and nodded towards Snape.

"Legilimens!"

Nothing happened. If Harry had expected an explosion of fireworks or Kaneki writhing on the ground in pain, he was to be sorely disappointed.

Snape lowered his wand, and Harry was gleeful to find a tiny bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "You have impressively strong Occlumency walls, Kaneki," he said. "So strong I would've thought you were non existent. There simply was nothing in the space you occupy."

Kaneki rubbed his chin. "This spell will only work on humans, am I correct?"

Snape frowned. "Yes."

"So, if I were to interrogate a goblin with Occlumency…" Kaneki left the sentence hanging, looking intensely at the Potions Master. A shade of understanding dawned upon Snape, replaced quickly by his trademark sneer. Harry sighed. Here he was, in the dark again.

Snape raised his wand again, this time directed at Harry himself. "Potter, you are allowed any form of defence against me. Anything to stop me from invading your mind. Shall we start?"

Before Harry could even start fumbling for his wand, Snape had chanted, "Legilimens!" and the entire office disappeared.

He was five, watching Dudley ride his new bicycle, his heart bursting with jealousy…he was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn…he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin…Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with black hair…a hundred Dements were closing in…

No, said a voice in Harry's head, you're not watching that, those are your private memories…

He yanked himself from the remnants of his memory. "What…did you see all that?" Harry demanded furiously.

Snape's lip curled. "Small flashbacks of it. You've let me go in too far. We have a lot to work on." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kaneki rubbing his fingers together, but he didn't have time to contemplate it anymore as Snape once again picked his wand up and muttered, "Legilimens!"

Once again, he had not been ready for the sudden intrusion into his mind.

Uncle Vernon hammering the mailbox shut…the ghastly shapes of Dementors drifting across the lake…running down the windowless corridor…a big black door, shut at the end…

"Stop!" His own outburst drew him back to the present again as he recoiled on the ground, his scar aching terribly. Snape's eyes sharpened with contempt and displeasure. "Make an effort to ward me out of your mind! You. Are. Not. Trying."

"I am making an effort!" Harry snapped.

"Your effort is not enough. Empty yourself of emotions or feelings!"

"I'm finding that hard to do right now!" Harry spat.

"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" Snape snarled, a sudden edge in his voice. "Weak fools who wear their hearts on their sleeve, who never bother controlling their emotions, who wallow in memories and allow themselves to be provoked easily will stand no chance against the Dark Lord!"

"I am not weak!" Harry bit back, fury running through his body.

"Then prove it! Master your emotions! Reign your heart in! Legilimens!"

Cedric Diggory, laying eagle-spread across the ground, Cho Chang moving towards him underneath the mistletoe—

"Severus." A soft voice cut in, and the spell was lifted from Harry's mind. "I think that's enough for one day."

Surprisingly, Snape did not object, only glaring once more at Harry and said, "We'll meet again on Wednesday. Practise ridding your mind of all emotion every night. I'll know whether you have practised or not."

With that, Kaneki stood up, and beckoned Harry to follow him. Too weary to protest, he padded after the white haired man.

They started walking, with no specific destination in mind. Kaneki seemed lost in thought, his one grey eye glazed over. Harry dared not disturb the man from his reverie. Finally, it was Kaneki who spoke first. "Mind defence—occulumency—is easy for those who have mastered the first step." He said. "It is not easy for an emotional person to feel emotionless, much less a teenager." He looked at Harry. "However, you must achieve it. You must not let the Dark Lord into your mind. You must not—" he broke off, staring at his fingers, "—fail like I did."

"Kaneki," Harry asked timidly, "Why did you join the Order?"

The strangled laughter coming from Kaneki made Harry jump. "More like coerced," he murmured. "But that was in the past. I have learned from my mistakes, Arima." He glanced at Harry again, still lost in his own thoughts. "I guess the reason I joined the Order was to make sure nobody would learn of the truth the hard way. Remember this, Harry," he leaned in,

"All suffering in the world is born from an individual's incompetence."

—

He left to find Hermione and Ron in the library, still perturbed by Kaneki's parting words. Upon entering, he'd spotted them immediately, huddling close together, discussing something with great intensity (as noted by the waving arms and animated but hushed arguments). He coughed, drawing their attention.

"Ah, Harry! Been wondering when Snape would let you off," greeted Ron.

Harry sighed. "It was every bit as tiring as I thought it would be." He noticed Hermione's lack of response, and frowned. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes." Hermione said. "Umbridge…she's awful! The people who're in her detentions—mostly Gryffindors—" she lowered her voice, "—she uses Dark Magic. Makes them write in their own blood." She continued before Harry could protest his anger and surprise. "Ron and I were talking just now…we need to find some way to get rid of her. This is way over the line."

"I suggested poison." Ron cut in helpfully.

"We need to learn defence. We know that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is out there recruiting Death Eaters and building an army, and we're just here doing nothing like sitting ducks." Hermione whispered harshly.

"Well, what can we do about it?" Ron yawned. "Fudge's not going to sack her anytime soon."

"Um," Hermione shot a tentative look at Harry before hurrying on, "I was thinking actually…that maybe we should do this…ourselves…"

"Do this ourselves?" Harry echoed dubiously. The direction this was heading to was not favourable for him.

"Learning Defence Against Dark Arts ourselves." Hermione said.

"Hermione," said Ron, completely serious, "Not everyone's a genius like you. You do realise we have homework and lessons—"

"This is way more important than homework!" Judging by the way her face alighted with fervour, Harry could see no way of backing out of it. "We have to prepare ourselves for what's out there, as Harry has said."

"We can't do much other than studying curses and hexes from a book," Ron said, in a defeated tone.

"What I mean is that we need a proper teacher," Hermione began.

"If you mean Lupin…"

"No, not Lupin, he's too busy with the Order and we don't see him that often," Hermione said.

"Then…Kaneki?" Harry had no idea why that name cropped up in his head. His trust of Kaneki had increased, but not to that point.

Hermione blew an exasperated breath. "I meant you, Harry."

"Me?"

"Teaching us defence." Harry turned to look at Ron, expecting the ginger to be laughing at Hermione's far stretched idea. But Ron did not look the least bit amused. "She's got a point."

Harry grinned. They were definitely tricking him. "I'm not a teacher."

"You're the best in DADA in the whole year," Hermione said.

"Yeah, right. You've beaten me in every test—"

"Actually, I haven't," Hermione said cooly. "You beat me in third year—the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I'm not only talking about test results. Think of what you've accomplished these years at Hogwarts!"

Finally, Harry realised they were serious. They weren't actually joking. They actually expected him to teach DADA.

"It was all luck," he protested. "Half the time I didn't know what I was doing."

Both of them were smirking by now.

"I always had help," Harry insisted, growing more heated now.

Hermione shook her head, her smirk gone, eyes pleading. "Please, just think about it. We really need your help…to…defeat V-Voldemort." Her voice trembled.

Harry avoided her gaze, suddenly feeling extremely tired. "I'm going up to sleep," he said, and left.

—

Hermione made no mention of the DADA lessons for the next few weeks, but Harry knew it hadn't simply slipped out of her mind. The subject was indeed breached again, when they were studying Potions in the Gryffindor common room.

"Have you given any thought to the DADA matter, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Of course I have," Harry said grumpily. "That woman—"

"No, I meant the idea Ron and I—" Ron shot her a look that clearly said, Don't drag me into this, and she quickly amended, "—I mean, the idea I had about you teaching us…"

Harry didn't answer at once, pretending to be immersed in Asiatic Anti-Venoms.

He had, indeed, given the matter great thought, even mentioning it to Kaneki once when he sought the teaching assistant's help with some DADA coursework.

'If your friends believe you to be capable of it, then you should try.' was what Kaneki had said when Harry asked for his opinion.

'But they don't understand! Most of the time it's just plain, pure luck! I got through all of it because help came just at the right moment, but I really didn't know what I was doing half the time!" Now that his emotions were out on the surface, he couldn't stop the rant. "They all don't understand how it feels, but I do! Everyone thinks it's just throwing spells and charms like in class and at school, but in reality there's nothing between you and dying and it's just so—" he stopped, breathing heavily.

Kaneki had just glanced at him, a soft glance that made Harry wonder once again just how much he had seen, but he could see the understanding in the cold eyes. Not sympathy, not pity, but understanding.

"It's the burden of seeing death, Harry," he'd said. "Few have experienced it, and even fewer understand. At such an age to see such horrors of the world…" he murmured, more talking to himself than to Harry, "…the world is truly a horrifying place. Being so close to death," Kaneki leaned back, his head tilted upward, "I do wonder what it does to one's sanity."

Kaneki had told him that it was his decision to make, and at times he'd agreed that he should, thinking about effective spells he'd used against the Dark Lord and realising he'd been planing it into lessons, but sometimes he thought it was the most insane idea he had ever heard.

"Well," he said slowly, when he could no longer feign interest in Asiatic Anti-Venoms, "I have given some thought about it…"

"And?"

Harry rubbed his temples. "I don't know what to think," he replied.

"It's not that bad of an idea," Ron said, joining the conversation once he confirmed that Harry wouldn't suddenly enter a screaming rage.

"You did listen to the part where I said most of my…activities were achieved through luck."

"Yes, Harry," Hermione prompted gently. "But you can't deny that you're the best at DADA. You were the only person capable to throw off an Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do things that full-grown adults can't, Viktor always said—"

Ron turned around so fast he was a complete blur. "Yeah? What did he say?"

"He said Harry knew stuff that even he didn't, and he was already in his last year at Durmstrang."

"You're still in contact with him?"

Hermione sniffed. "So what if I am? What if I would like a pen-pal?"

"Well, not pen-pals with him!"

"What's wrong with Viktor?"

Before it could escalate into real argument, Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and not waiting for Ron's answer, turned to Harry and said, "Well, what do you think? Will you teach us?"

"Just you and Ron, right?"

"Erm," Hermione said, looking a mite anxious again, "Please don't fly off the handle again, but Harry, I think you should teach anyone who wants to learn. We're talking about defending ourselves from Voldemort here."

"It's fine by me, but the problem is everyone thinks I'm a nutter for attention."

"You might be surprised by how many people would be interested in hearing you out," said Hermione. "Just give it a shot. We'll be asking anyone who's interested to join us at Hogsmeade, the first weekend of October."

"Why outside school though?"

Hermione allowed a grim smile. "I highly doubt Umbridge's going to approve of this."

—

"A couple of people?" Harry said hoarsely. "A couple of people? Is this what you call a couple of people?"

Hermione shrugged, a pleased smile on her lips. "Well, the idea was more popular than I thought.

"What have you been telling them?" Harry said in a low voice. "What are they going to expect?"

Hermione coughed. "Harry, they just want to hear what you've got to say. I only said that you're willing to honestly recount the true events of what happened, nothing more." At Harry's furious glance (who said he was willing to recount the events?) Hermione continued hastily, "Relax Harry, you don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them."

"Hello Harry," Neville beamed, sending him an encouraging smile and sitting opposite to Harry. Harry sent back what could best be described as a grimace.

In twos and threes the new arrivals pulled up chairs and sat around Harry, until everyone was settled down. "Um," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual, "Hi everyone. I'm sure everyone knows—"

The door opened again, and in stepped a dark figure. All eyes turned to the newcomer.

Kaneki ignored their stares. "I'm not too late, am I?"

"Professor Kaneki…" Hermione stared. "I mean, Mr. Kaneki. This is a meeting for students and not adults…"

Kaneki merely folded himself into a chair, coiled and tense, his eyes scanning throughout the pub, and his eyes landed on the man wrapped in bandages. "I am officially still a student, Ms. Granger. However, if my presence is not welcomed, I will not impose. But beware…" He inclined his head, ever so slightly, towards the masked and veiled person, "There might be some unfriendly ears around here."

As quick as he got here, he got up again and disappeared.

"That person over there…" Harry murmured towards Hermione. "Is there any way to make him go?"

Hermione frowned, but before she replied, the person shuffled awkwardly to their feet and went out, the door chiming dully as it slammed shut.

Harry raised an eyebrow, but let the matter slide. "Anyway," she continued. "Er, hi everyone. I'm going to cut straight to the chase—we're here to form a DADA club, and Harry here-" she paused to briefly glance at the boy in question, before turning back to her enraptured audience, "Has, um, agreed to teach us defence spells for protection against..." Hermione took a deep breath, "Voldemort."

There were several gasps of shock at the name; Harry just glared balefully at them. They had to learn to stop being so scared at the sound of a name.

"Before Hermione continues," Harry voiced, "In order to join this club, you must be able to pronounce Voldemort's name without hesitation or fear. If the mere sound of Voldemort's name will scare you all to bits, then there's no way you—we can prevail against him." His voice was firm, but stern.

"Harry, you can't ask us to do that," Hermione whispered.

"Why not? You said Voldemort's name just now."

"Well, but…" Hermione sighed in defeat. "Have it your way."

As expected, there were sounds of protest, but before Harry intervened, a familiar black haired girl stood up. It was Cho Chang. Harry's heart did a flip, and he cursed himself.

"I think Harry's correct," the Asian girl spoke softly. "If we cannot even overcome our fear of the name…Voldemort…" Harry could see she had tried her hardest to keep the tremor out of her voice, "Then this defence club is useless, isn't it?"

"But how do we know he's back?"

"That's just outrageous!"

"Can I please have some quiet?" Hermione clapped her hands together. "Since some of you are still doubting the validity of Harry's story about Voldemort," the word came easier now, Harry noted, "Then can you please at least agree to hear him out before making your own judgements?"

Gradually, the hubbub quietened and Harry nodded at Hermione in thanks. "As I've said, countless of times," he stated, "I've seen Voldemort with my very own eyes. If you don't believe me, I can even let you look into my memories. Force me under a truth compelling potion, and my answer will stay the same. Voldemort. Is. Back. Cedric Diggory's death certainly was tragic, but it wasn't an accident. Voldemort used the Killing Curse on him. Voldemort was revived, and now he's out there, plotting for the Ministry's demise, the entire Wizarding World's demise while people think I'm a nut job for attention!" Harry was almost yelling by the end of his speech rant. He sat down, trying to calm himself. Talking about Voldemort had done nothing but revive memories and flashbacks, those he wished to forget.

The good thing was most people seemed convinced after his little outburst. Everyone got up and signed on the piece of parchment Hermione had produced out of her pocket.

As Harry peered over Hermione's shoulder, watching the number of signatures grow, he asked, "So what are we naming this club?"

Hermione pondered this. "I never considered this," she said. "It's up for suggestion."'

"Umbridge Stinks?" someone called out.

"Defence against professor Umbridge!"

"Defence Club!"

"You guys suck at naming stuff," Ron said. "Why not Dumbledore's Army, DA for short?"

"That's surprisingly clever of you, Ronald."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Enough." Harry glared at the bickering pair, not wanting to start a verbal catfight in front of everyone. "Can we all agree on Dumbledore's Army?"

There were mutters of resignation but thankfully, nobody protested. Harry nodded and jotted it down onto the piece of paper. The words stared up at him, and the reality of what burden lay on his shoulders hit him. He would be responsible for teaching all these students defence against Voldemort and his army and he had partial responsibility for their safety from now on.

I will not be continuing the story. Thank you for liking my story (reviews and favourites are really a source of motivation for writers!) and I'm really sorry for leaving it unfinished. If you are interested in finishing the story, PM me for adoption.

I will also be posting an old Todobaku fic that's been sitting in my document for ages, but other than that I won't be logging in to this account anymore. You'll have better luck finding me on AO3 (user is cagedbrokenbeautiful) but no promises because school is a bitch.