Dreamer of Fears

By: Shadow Chaser

Chapter 30 – Occluding Secrets

Harry was asked to stay by Snape as everyone left the staff room. He caught the nod from Dumbledore to Snape as the Headmaster left. His friends had wondered what was going on, but Snape merely said Occlumency before they too left. However, he was puzzled, until the door was closed and James stepped out from the shadows, having stayed behind. Harry realized his father had cast a quick Disillusionment spell on himself while everyone was busy leaving, allowing him to stay hidden in plain sight.

"Snape," James inclined his head towards the Potions master.

"Potter," Snape drawled before pointing his wand at the doors. Once more, wordless wards were put up that sent a wave of uneasiness in the Dreamer.

Harry grimaced, but Merlin did not answer him.

"What's the matter?" James asked as Snape took a seat near one of the doors, apparently not keen on joining them, but not leaving either.

"Err..." Harry glanced at the Potions master and back at his father who gestured for him to pull up a chair in front of the large fireplace.

"Oh, Snape," his father gestured to his once former rival. "He told me that I should be teaching you instead of him teaching you. But since the Minister's ordered him to teach you, we can't go countermanding that order. So this is our way of compromising. Snape can ward the doors from any intrusions and we can work on your Occlumency."

"You know how to Occlude?" That was something he never learned about his father.

"In a fair sort of way," James shrugged, "helps that I'm also an Animagus and-"

"They have simpler minds..." Harry continued.

"I was one in your world?"

"Yeah," Harry felt a little freer now that he didn't have to maintain Merlin's identity in front of his father and Snape. He supposed in a way he was glad to have told his father who he really was. It really made it easier to talk. "You, Sirius and Pettigrew. You turned Animagi to help Professor Lupin during the time of the month he turned into a werewolf."

There was an undignified snort from Snape who sat in near the door. He had pulled out a handful of parchments and was seemingly marking it up. However, Harry had the feeling that Snape was listening to their conversation.

"Makes sense that you recognized me in my animagi form when the Hellhounds attacked," James shrugged. "But I didn't know that you knew about the simpler minds of animagi."

"I didn't until Sirius, er, my world's Sirius explained to me that he was able to survive Azkaban for thirteen years because he transformed into his dog form from time to time so the Dementors weren't able to affect him."

"Thirteen years...in Azkaban..."

"It exists here?"

"Yes, we had a lot of friends thrown in there by the Dark Lord before we finally destroyed it," James replied. "I remember way back, maybe before I was born, not too sure, I was told there had been an attempt to break prisoners out of Azkaban, but it failed. Supposedly its where McGonagall lost her powers as Wisdom. She never told anyone."

They fell into silence for a few seconds before his father cleared his throat. "So, Occlumency. What do you know about it?"

"It's supposed to help me close my mind to a Legilimens or anyone trying to read my thoughts?" Harry ended his statement on a question and James nodded.

"You're right, but also missing a couple of points," his father leaned forward and gestured with his hands. "Once you start practicing, you'll be able to feel when someone is trying to glean something from your thoughts. Some people naturally Occlude well, some are natural Legilimens. It's a rare gift to be a natural a certain magics, but it can be cultivated in most with practice."

"Professor Snape, or at least my Professor Snape told me that I had to empty my mind of all thoughts and emotions in order to block any entry," Harry grimaced.

"Really," James stared at him before glancing behind him. "Snape, your counterpart is an idiot of the highest level. Don't tell me you think that too."

"Shut it Potter," was the reply.

Harry blinked, startled by the exchange before he looked dubiously at his father who only smiled lightly.

"It's true, but also not the whole truth," James replied, "most people can't become like Snape here and empty their selves of all emotion in order to conceal their innermost thoughts. It's very effective, but the best way is to keep your emotions and let the intruder sort out what is worth concealing."

"What?"

"Think of it like the doors inside a house, right?" His father started to explain. "Some are closed, some are open. To anyone breaking in, the closed ones are the ones they're obviously going to go for first. The open ones, they'll look at later, but they're probably going to bypass it on first glance. Its your job to figure out which ones you want to open, which ones you want close. You can deliberately close some of the doors where they really don't have anything worth stealing and leave the ones open that are quite valuable."

He gestured with his head towards Snape. "In Snape's case, he leaves all doors open, empty, and lets whomever is peering in to go right through. He doesn't close any, doesn't deign to conceal anything." James pointed to himself. "I like to make it like a maze. I like to know where the person is always, even in my head."

He smiled briefly. "It's like a map, you see, with layers and layers. Similar to the school if you want to look at it, but I like to keep an eye on where that person is going so I can open and close the doors that I want that person to see."

"Like the Marauder's Map..." Harry whispered.

The corner of his father's lips quirked up in a crooked smile. "Good to hear that it also exists in your world."

"I used it to sneak in and out of Hogwarts," Harry blurted out.

James laughed lightly. "Good for you," he clapped him on the arm and Harry felt a bit of pride at his father's praise. His father leaned forward again and gestured with his hands. "We're going to work on an exercise for the next thirty minutes. I want you to imagine your house, all right? Then I want you to imagine every single door, closet, entryway and exit. Picture that until you can memorize every single detail of the place. Once you do that, pick a handful that you want open and you want close."

"Okay."

Harry closed his eyes and started to imagine Privet Drive, but discarded it quickly. He had bad memories associated there and he suddenly felt embarrassed enough that he did not want his father to eventually rummage around Privet Drive. He thought perhaps the Burrow would be a good place, except when he tried to imagine some of the other floors, they blurred with the others that he had. Harry frowned as discarded the Burrow. Maybe Grimmauld Place...except there was a dull ache in his heart as he tried to imagine Sirius' room.

"You all right?" His father asked.

"...Yeah...just..." Harry sighed and opened his eyes again. "I...can't pin down a good place..."

His father tilted his head in curiosity. "Bad memories?"

"Of a sort..."

"Well-"

"Then use the worse one you have and build upon it, Potter," Snape suddenly spoke up from where he sat. Harry and James both turned in their chairs to look at him, surprised. Snape's head was still buried in the parchments, lifting one up almost lazily before lowering it and scribbling all over it. "The worse memories we have are also the starkest and some of the ones we remember the most clearly when we are afraid."

Harry blinked as Snape finished whatever he was writing and looked at them with a very familiar baleful look before the Potions professor rolled his eyes and turned back to what he was grading. Harry looked at his father, half expecting a sarcastic remark, but James surprised him by shrugging and nodding a little.

"He's not wrong, but also know that your happiest memories are also the ones that come to the forefront when you're the most afraid. It is what drives us to protect those we love," James replied. "Just one word of advice – don't use Hogwarts."

"Why not?"

"Those who cast Legilimens are normally not familiar with a person's situation, but it is a very good chance they have graduated Hogwarts."

"Oh," Harry realized what his father meant. The passages, the stairs, even the secret tunnels, a student might have discovered them to some extent or know what were good hiding spots and what were not. He furrowed his brow again. "Can I make something up?"

"Of course," James seemed pleased. "But that's very advance Occulumency. Start simple, Harry. Get used to it. Then expand how you wish to conceal and reveal your thoughts and memories. However, be mindful that you must know what you have created in your head. You try to create a place on the fly, your mind will instinctively close all important places instead of being strategic about it."

"Thereby defeating the purpose of Occluding the thoughts you want to Occlude..." Harry finished.

"Exactly," James nodded once. "Close your eyes. Think of a place you know really well."

Harry closed his eyes again, now reassured that even if Privet Drive was not a pleasant place, it was still the best place he knew. He knew every single door, every single crack. He could easily recreate his cupboard, Dudley's room, even Vernon and Petunia's room. He knew the hedges outside and where the garden hose was to water the plants. He could see the garage where the car was kept. Could almost imagine the dining room and backyard where Aunt Marge had been accidentally blown up and floated away. His room was a perfect memory, where he had kept Hedwig's cage to let her back in when she flew away. Where he kept his trunk and dresser holding some small things including a picture of his parents.

"Got it?" His father's voice was soft as to not startle him.

"...Yeah..." Harry breathed out, keeping his eyes closed.

"Now pick a room in that place," James instructed.

Harry immediately picked his room.

"Imagine every single furniture in it, or lack there of if you want. Imagine every single thing in there and hold it in your mind," James voice was steady and soothing. "Now there are memories associated with things in that room, are there not?"

"...Yeah..."

"Good. Tell me one object in that place."

"Socks," Harry immediately replied, keeping his eyes closed. He could see the pair, one of the pair hanging from the top drawer in the dresser. The other was on the ground that he had accidentally forgot to pair together.

"Are there many memories associated with that sock? Or even thoughts?"

"Yeah..."

"Pick one you think appropriate."

"Got it." He immediately remembered the sock he had given to Dobby to free him. It was not the same pair that he was imagining, but it was something he associated with the lone missing sock.

"Okay, now open your eyes, but keep the image of that sock and the room in your head."

Harry opened his eyes. He saw his father staring intently at him. "I'm going to Legilimens into your mind. I am going to target what I think is the sock you've mentioned. You are going to try to figure out a way to keep that memory with the sock away from me."

"...How-"

James smiled. "I'll leave that up to you..."

Harry stared at him, puzzled as to how he was going to do it, but before he could get another word out his father pointed his wand at him.

"Legilimens!"

He was in his room, legs dangling off of his bed. The laundry basket was returned to Aunt Petunia after he had finished washing and drying his clothes. But where was that stupid- Ah, there it was on the dresser-

"That's mine!"

"It doesn't even fit you-"

"Mum!"

Harry stumbled back against the stairs as eight-year-old Dudley pushed him to the ground before clutching the pair of socks that had been given to him as a belated Christmas present two days ago. They had been ill-wrapped, but Harry appreciated it nonetheless. He was lucky to have been let out of the cupboard-

Harry couldn't very well tell Dobby outright that the sock was in the remnants of the diary. However, he tried to gesture wordlessly with his chin as Lucius Malfoy angrily stomped off. Dobby opened the book and lifted the sock up just as Malfoy called out-

Harry suddenly found himself back in the staff room, a little dizzy. His mind felt like it had been slightly stretched. He blinked owlishly as his father lowered his wand and looked at him. "It was the House Elf, wasn't it?"

"Yeah...Dobby..."

"I will say, really clever and hilarious to have tricked Malfoy in giving his House Elf clothes, but that's for another time," his father shook his head, but it was a proud smile that graced his features.

Harry laughed lightly in return.

"So, were you able to pay attention to how I was able to pick out the memory so fast?" James cleared his throat as he reached into his robes and pulled out a small piece of chocolate. He broke a piece off and handed it to Harry. "Also, here. Chocolate is really useful for a lot of spells that have to deal with the mind. Patronuses, contracts, even Legilimens."

Harry accepted the piece and nibbled on it. "I don't know...all I saw was just memories-"

"Concentrate, Harry. Think back as to what had happened right after I cast the spell," James instructed gently.

Harry pinched his lips together as he thought back. "I found myself in the room I constructed. But then I was looking for the sock and found it..."

"Exactly. You knew what object was concealing the memory. It is a good way to direct someone, but think about what you could also do once you have found the object you're focusing on."

"Err..."

"It is in a drawer, correct?"

"Yes..." Harry trailed off before he sat forward, "oh! Maybe, have multiple pairs, realizing that I was trying to find one to complete and show the whole set-"

James nodded, his smile growing wider. "Exactly." He pointed his wand at Harry. "Now pick another memory associated with the socks, but do exactly what you just said."

Harry nodded.

"Legilimens!"

-Were back in the drawer. He found the sock. Great, now he could complete the set and opened the drawer. Multiple ones lined the area and he stared at them. Which one should he pick to wear today. He glanced outside. It was sunny, so maybe not a dark one-

The book Hagrid wanted them to buy for their Care of Magical Creatures class chewed one of his socks. He needed to find another one-

He received some ones knitted by Mrs. Weasley. It was a very interesting striped color and pattern, but he appreciated it nonetheless-

Hermione even packed socks. Harry was so grateful that she had the foresight to think about packing ahead when all he could think about was that he had left Ginny and the others-

Dudley threw his rancid socks at him and Harry grimaced. He picked it up as gingerly as possible and threw it into the wash. It was so gross-

"Master gave Dobby clothes! Master has freed Dobby..." the wonderment in the House Elf's voice was something to behold-

Harry found himself once more back in the staff room, a piece of chocolate held out before him. He took it and ate the whole piece as he sat back, rubbing his head. It felt fuzzy, but it did not feel as invasive or as bad as the last few times Snape had peered into his mind.

"Good, good. So that time, I couldn't even figure out which was the one you were guarding even if they were moving so fast because you couldn't figure out which sock you wanted. I could see you trying to figure out which one to pick as you stared out the window and maybe deciding not to wear the dark ones," his father said as he sat back in his arm chair. "Very well done, Harry. Well done..."

Harry blushed with the praise. "Dad...you did find it-"

"Really?" his father looked surprised.

"It was the one with Mrs. Weasley-"

"Ah..." His father nodded. "Then more credit to you and to your instincts as it did not occur to me that it was something you were concealing. I happened over it and decided it was not worth looking at. That is something you must be immensely proud of as you have also deflected my interest in the memory you were trying to preserve."

"Like all doors open?"

James snorted quietly. "Yes...as much as it pains me, perhaps you may yet find your methodologies to be similar to Snape's here than my own."

"Oh well, I mean-"

"Harry, it is fine," James held up a hand. "Each one of us have our own strengths and weaknesses. We're here to find the best one that will help you. There is no sense of competition or who has the better way of Occluding their mind. It is a very hard magic to learn and to master. Our main goal is to ensure that if and when the Black Queen enters your mind again or you enter his, you are prepared and you have defenses against any type of attack he may perpetrate."

Harry nodded. His father's words seem so contrary to what Sirius and Remus had told him about his father in his world. Yet, he wondered if it was because of the war, because James Potter had more years to mature, to come to an understanding and perhaps let old rivalries die to become someone like this.

"As...the Heir to Fears...do we know what he can do?"

James shook his head. "No," he replied, "sadly no. We are at a disadvantage because we do not know a lot about Fears nor of Hopes. It's why we want to prepare you as best as we can. Because we simply do not know."

Harry fell silent for a few minutes before James slapped his hands onto his thighs. "All right. We'll call it a night. I want to practice Occlumency with you every night if it's possible, Harry. Snape, will that work for you?"

"For now...until the Minister deems me able to return to my duties," Snape collected the parchments he was grading.

"If only Hestia was still there...we'd be able to get a better idea of your status..." James shook his head. Harry realized his father still did not know about Snape killing the undercover Auror. He sighed. "All right, meet back here at 9pm and we'll continue our lessons. In the mean time, Harry, I want you to practice the house method we've talked about. Picture every room, so much that you can see it even in your waking hours. Fill it with all sorts of things. Open doors, close them, associate memories with them."

"All right." For the first time since Harry had learned the term Occlumency and what it was, he felt more confident, more prepared and most of all empowered to actually do something to defend his own mind.

"That's my boy," James patted Harry on his shoulder as they stood up. Snape immediately waved his wand and the wards that were on the door disappeared. The Potions master was the first out of the door and hurried away. The unsettled feeling that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach disappeared. Once again, a silent query to Merlin produced nothing.

"Thanks," Harry blurted out as he followed his father out at a more leisurely pace.

"Snape is the better teacher for such a skill, but I'm glad that I'm teaching you," James replied, "though I do have one question..."

"What?"

"Who is Dudley? I saw him hitting you-"

Harry grimaced and did not meet his father's gaze. "When you and Mum died...I was sent by Dumbledore to live with Mum's sister-"

"Petunia?" Shock colored James' voice. "That batty, sour-"

"Dudley was her and her husband Vernon's son," Harry continued quickly.

"I met Vernon once. Pleasant man, I suppose, but..."

"It was all right. They gave me a roof over my head. Gave me a place to sleep, eventually my own room," Harry shrugged. "Dudley and I...well, we never got along, but at least we only saw each other during the summers." He hoped his father would not press, but supposed it would probably be inevitable since he had associated his current method of occluding his thoughts to be part of Privet Drive.

James rubbed his lip before sighing. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry you had to go through that...especially since Sirius is your godfather."

"He was in-"

"Azkaban..." James shuddered. "How..."

Harry fell silent. His father did not know the full details, only that their secret keeper had betrayed them in his world. While Dumbledore knew the full details, Harry did feel a twinge of regret upon learning that this world's Peter Pettigrew had been sent far away from Hogwarts. With things so different, was there a chance he was wrong? He could not be sure, but neither could he deny that he felt glad that Pettigrew was sent away. He couldn't risk it...couldn't chance it.

And Harry realized that was another memory he would have to hide away from his father when the Legilimens lessons continued. "I have a question about the house method," he wanted to change the subject and it seemed James did not mind as he nodded.

"Snape, my world's Snape, said I was supposed to try to force any intruder from my mind. When he Legilimens into my mind, he was able to see a lot of flashes of memories like you did. How then-"

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, but the basics is to ensure your mind is constructed in a way that you know. This prevents any attempt of your memories to go scattering through everywhere. Currently, think of your memories as nebulous, in a cloud of sorts," James held his hands out forming something like a circular shape. "By containing it, you know where each memory is, you know yourself where everything is. You're able to start to exert some control if someone tries to peek into your mind."

Harry looked at him, confused. "Huh?"

"Most people think they have their memories contained, in a somewhat neat fashion. Most are wrong," James explained again. "What we're doing right now is to help you realize the extraneous memories, the ones you could barely remember, but maybe a smell, a feeling can trigger those. Those are powerful ones. Those are the ones that could mean something to you or mean nothing at all. But those can be focus points in which your defenses can be lowered and exposing your other memories. We're trying to contain most of those in a place you are familiar with.

"You can't contain everything Harry, not even I can. But we're trying to contain majority of it so you can mount an adequate defense. So you can learn the basics and then learn how to push someone out without them ever knowing it. Or misdirect them where they find nothing amiss."

Harry slowly nodded. "I think I'm getting it..." It made sense.

"Occlumency isn't learned in a day, a week or even a month. Truth be told, it may be a lifetime of practice if you're lucky," his father grimaced for a second before smoothing his expression to something more neutral. "Think of Snape's situation."

Harry did, knowing that his father would not elaborate now that they were out of the staff room and walking the halls.

"All right, you'd best be getting some sleep. The lessons will take a lot out of you at first, but as you continue, it'll be easier."

Harry did not realize they had walked all the way up to the Room of Requirement until the door appeared before them. He pushed it open and glanced back at James who stood with his hands folded in front of him. "Thanks Dad..." he said and James returned the thanks with a small nod.

Stepping in and closing the door behind him, Harry realized his father was right. He was very exhausted after a day's whirlwind of events. Even after learning he had been asleep for roughly two weeks, he still felt tired enough that he quickly stripped out of his robes and into his pajamas before climbing into bed. He was fast asleep even before his head hit the pillow.

And Dreams claimed him.

The stark white settings resolved itself just a little differently now, as Harry found himself sitting on the stone benches. It reminded him of the backyard of Privet Drive in ways, but did not resolve itself as such. Ghostly hints floated just out of his reach, like the neighbor's fence, or even the large tree that dominated the backyard. There was perhaps the hint of a tire swing that hung off one of its large branches, a swing that Harry did not remember being there, but he did not focus much on that as he completed his look around only to come face to face with the mirror image of himself.

"Oh..."

"You..."

This world's Harry James Potter spoke up nearly at the same time as he did. Unlike last time where the Black Queen was leaning over him, he was now leaning against one of the stone benches. An unhealthy sheen graced his pale features, and Harry could see sweat dampening the strands of messy hair, flattening it to the sides of his face. His scar was a prominent, ugly red against the paleness of his skin.

"See something you like?" the Black Queen sneered.

"You look like shite." The words were uncharacteristically sarcastic, but something about his counterpart made him instantly want to shoot foul language back at him.

To his surprise, the Black Queen chuckled, a dark sound before he closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath. "Looks like you actually have some guts, oh-alternate-universe-me. Not just a goody little two-shoes that is all about heroic justice and whatnot. None of that bullshite."

Harry frowned. He glanced around him, but did not hear any of the telltale sounds of a distant battle like the last time he had heard Merlin fighting Morgana. However, his motion did not go unnoticed as the Black Queen's smile grew wider.

"You don't know what you did, do you?"

"Huh?" Harry turned to stare at the sickly version of himself.

The Black Queen sighed; long, loud and if Harry was being kind, perhaps with a hint of sarcasm. However, judging by the brief interaction he had with him the last time, he suspected it was rather condescending. He did not know that he could even be condescending.

"I suppose I'll take a very small piece of pity on you, after all, I guess I owe you in some small way, but that phoenix tear you gave Aunt Bella, yeah...well, you got a bit of a connection in it. Enough for me to slip right into your mind when you are sleeping."

Harry stared. "...How?"

"My guess? You've unlocked your first Trial as Hopes, haven't you?" The Black Queen stared at him before nodding. "Don't need to answer, your expression says it all."

"Fears has the same thing?"

"Perhaps," the answer was meant to be evasive, but to Harry it confirmed on some level that Fears and Hopes were opposite sides of the same coin. It seemed both of them underwent Trials to Awaken.

He looked around, wondering how he was going to pull himself out of this one before movement out of the corner of his eye made him glance back down at the Heir to Fears.

"Bit skittish aren't we?" his counterpart had a nasty-looking smile on his pale face as he lowered his arm.

Harry frowned, feeling defensive. It was almost exactly the same tone Malfoy had used from time to time; gathering information and knowledge to use against him some time later. He did it with the Dementors, did it with Cedric's death, and countless other times. "You're going to lecture me again to stay out of your head?" he shot back. It was lame, nor was it conducive, but Harry felt irritated that he could be so callous, so like Malfoy of all people that it bothered him greatly.

"Haven't felt you for two weeks," the Heir to Fears shrugged.

"I bet," Harry rolled his eyes and this time the same frown appeared on the other wizard's face.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry looked to open his mouth before he shut it just as quickly. He realized he was about to say something in regards to how his counterpart was under Cruciatus and then physically tortured before he realized it was only Snape that had told him that and no one else. If he revealed where he had that info, then the spy's position would be even more precarious if not already.

"Bellatrix was gathering potions, herbal ones. From the way she accepted the phoenix tear and how she looked like she was so desperate in collecting the healing potions, figured it was for you." He shrugged, hoping that even in this dream, there was no way that his counterpart could discern the truth even if they were in his mind. "And...you look like shite."

"So why give her the phoenix tear?" His counterpart demanded. "You just so happen to have one on you?"

"And why not?" Harry countered. He was starting to feel a little more confident, throwing the same questions he suspected the Heir to Fears would have done. Judging by the slightly flustered and defensive look this world's Harry Potter was giving him, it seemed he had judged correctly. This world's Harry was used to ferreting out information, ruthlessly intelligent and very good at discerning things not said and what was said. He was used to wielding the power of knowledge and Harry could begin to understand why Grindelwald chose him to be the Heir to Fears. Such a combination, would truly make those who were not as quick as he was to discern things would make them fear him even more.

And with that thought came another one chasing right after it. This was an interrogation. It may have been in the pretense of a dreamscape, but Harry realized that even in his weakened state, the Black Queen used every single thing he had to his advantage. The fact that they were in such a state again, even without their respective Dreamers fighting in the distance meant that instead of a warning like what had been stated the first time this happened, this was the Black Queen gathering information. Much like he had in his fifth, sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts.

Well, Harry decided, two can play at that game.

"Did you ever kill someone?" he suddenly asked.

The quiet bark of laughter that erupted from his counterpart's mouth spoke volumes of the absurdity of the question and gave some insight into his mind. "What do you think?"

Harry sat on the stone chair, looking at his counterpart. "I did too," he stared, meeting his gaze. He tried his best to stun many of those he had fought, especially at the Battle of Hogwarts, but he knew that some had died through his means. Whether it was through falling or otherwise. He was not naïve anymore to realize his actions had consequences. "Though never with the Killing Curse."

The Black Queen grunted and tried to push himself up with the stone chair he was leaning on, but huffed out an exhausted breath as he winced. "What are you trying to do? Play on my sympathies? Trying to make me think that you could be such a good person-"

"And yourself?" Harry jumped in. "Thinking you can be so evil that you're an Heir to Fears?"

A nasty smile full of teeth was bared to him. "I am Fears. I am the Black Queen. I am Grindelwald's assassin and his right hand."

"And you are me, you are Harry James Potter," Harry would not back down as he stared at his counterpart. "You are the eldest son of Lily and James Potter-"

"Who abandoned me!" The Black Queen hissed, making an aborted attempt to lunge at him, but instead, grabbed the back of the chair for support.

Harry fell silent, staring at him.

"I'm not weak." Chipped emerald green eyes glared up at him. "Don't you dare look at me like that. I AM NOT WEAK!" The sky above them turned a sickly green before it returned to the white-grey of the area.

"No," Harry stated, "you're not. You were protected by your mother's love. She died for us; for me. Our father died for us, for me-"

"My parents are alive!" The green eyes blazed with a sudden surge of anger and the sky turned the same sickly green again. However, it did not resolve back to the grey and instead, a rumbling sound echoed in the distance.

"Then you saw," Harry remembered when the Dementors had attacked the train. That he had re-lived a twisted version of his worse nightmare; the night his parents had sacrificed themselves for him. All throughout it, it was like living a double scene. And it confirmed for him that in that moment of the attack, he and the Black Queen had been joined in the mind; both of them living out their worse memory. October 31st, 1981.

"Of course I saw," his counterpart spat out. "That the wizard and witch who call themselves my parents abandoned me! Left me to die while they fled! They are nothing but cowards!"

"Are they? Are they really?" He challenged. "They stood their ground to fight Voldemort on that night. They were ready to give their lives-"

"And they should have realized their folly," the Black Queen countered. "Misplaced faith and lack of courage?! They should have died!"

"THEY DID!" Harry suddenly found himself shouting at the Black Queen, stubborn anger riling him. "They died for me! My mother's love for me protected me and shielded me from the Killing Curse! I survived because her love was more than any ancient magic that could be conjured up!" He pushed his hair up and bared the ugly lighting bolt scar that was on his forehead. "Your parents are alive in this world and you know what I see? A selfish person who can't come to terms with what his parents did and is trying to reject parents who protected you. Who tried their best-"

"Their best wasn't good enough-"

"-who tried their best and then all they got was someone like you. The Black Queen," Harry glared at him, "Grindelwald's chief assassin and someone who doesn't deserve their love. Who doesn't deserve the love that saved you from the Killing Curse-"

"Please..." the voice was of a very young eight-year-old boy who knelt down, hands gripping the phoenix-feather and holly wand in his hands. "...Please...don't..."

Before him, a young man, perhaps no younger than thirty or even that, was screaming. Hellhounds prowled in a circle, their jaws salivating with poisons and noxious fumes as they brayed and howled their hunger. They could sense betrayal about them and they wanted the flesh of the betrayer.

The young boy suddenly screamed, clawing at his forehead as he could feel the oppressive presence again. It burned. It hurt... He could feel it trying to force him down, as if it could smash the living daylights out of him and squish him under his thumb. It was agony, liquid agony that all he wanted to do was to end the pain. That he did not want to feel it anymore. The tantalizing whisper that he could end it, to let it take control suddenly roused him. He could not do it, he would not! He loved him! He couldn't hurt him-

The words were ripped out of him. His wand, lifting of its own accord as he cried. His vision blurred, the drip of salty liquid falling down his face as he screamed and banged against the bonds that held him. He couldn't! He loved him! His father, his brother, his- He couldn't- He didn't deserve the love in the eyes of the one looking at him. He couldn't control- He needed to control-

"Hey kiddo..." Dark, pain-filled eyes met emerald green ones. "Don't worry... It'll be all right...Love you kiddo..."

"Avada...Kedavra!"

The flash of green light that once had been a sickly green color, sent Harry tumbling from the dreamscape. He heard the blood-curdling scream echo in the air, in his mind as he suddenly awakened with a strangled shout. He flailed about, the blankets tangling themselves as he suddenly sought an escape, anything from what he had just seen-

And landed painfully onto the ground.

Harry coughed, clutching his chest, heaving as if someone had tried to rip his heart out. His head burned as one of his hands went up to the lighting bolt scar, tracing its familiar pattern. It was wet and he looked at his fingers as he tore them away. They were stained with blood. His scar was bleeding.

He could feel an uneasy prickling sensation crawl through him before the blankets were thrown away from him, exposing him to the chilled air of the room and suddenly Ron was there, kneeling next to him.

"Harry! Harry!"

Other voices, recognizing them as Hermione and Ginny calling his name echoed loudly in his ears.

Harry blinked, his breath racing in great gasps before he suddenly felt sick. He clamped down on his mouth and scrabbled to his feet, running straight to the bathroom. Harry barely made it in time before he felt himself throw up, heaving the contents into the toilet. Sour-tasting bile made its way known and he gagged, heaving up whatever was left of what he had eaten during the day. After what seemed like ages of him retching into the toilet, he finally felt like he had no more to give and sagged against the basin.

"Hey..." A gentle hand was on his back and he blearily looked up to see Ginny kneeling next to him. Her hand was cool to the touch against his burning skin and he could feel tears prickling the corner of his eyes as he stared up at her.

"I saw..." The tears started to fall. "I saw how...Regulus died..." He rubbed his chest absently. It felt like someone had torn a hole in it. "I saw...how he killed Regulus..." But the next words he wanted to say did not come...because he knew it was perhaps the most important thing he had learned about this world's Harry James Potter.

The Black Queen had been possessed to end Regulus Black's life.

And he knew how it had been done. Because it was the same presence he had felt in his fifth year. Voldemort.

Author's Notes:

To be perfectly honest, I actually didn't plan for this particular secret to be revealed this early in the story, but I think I may be moving my timeline up a little for certain plot points in order to get the story really going. Also - it's been a while since we had any major developments regarding the Black Queen. :D