8. Chapter 8

This chapter is quite important and will finally get the ball rolling some more. I know that many of you have been waiting for some more discord and angst and such and this is the prelude to some of that awesome drama.

Chapter 8

It was nearly two whole weeks later when Harry deemed his theorem worthy of inspection. As instructed, it had opened with a hypothesis of his idea.

"… I have encountered death and its following misery more times than I can count, not only in my own life but in that of others as well. The wounds of war are far more than just physical and the wizarding world is only starting to develop an understanding of what that entails just now. I wish to help people who have been unable to move on after losing a loved one and believe that communicating with the person they lost might benefit them greatly. I know that it would help me.

He explained how he wanted to achieve this result. He had done the math as best he could. He had listed all ingredients as well as their counters should they be necessary and he created the chemical formula that went with the recipe. Harry felt that he was ready to start brewing the potion. After all, it could not improve without the much needed practical trial and error.

So he had finished the theorem with the conclusion that if all went well, the end result would be to communicate with the souls of the departed through the typical senses of sound and sight but also through touch and even smell. After all, had he himself not always longed to be hugged by his mother?

Harry contemplated if he should wait for Snape to come to meet him in the lab but since they hadn't actually agreed to meet, he decided to just go to Snape's private quarters and present him with his work. So he made the very short trip, and politely knocked on the door, his hands trembling with anticipation.

"Enter," Came Snape's usual response. Harry opened the door and looked at Snape who was reading the Daily Prophet with an almost bored expression on his face.

"What can I do for you, Harry?" he asked without even looking up.

"I think I've finished my theorem," Harry said, feeling somewhat giddy, "And I was wondering if you'd be willing to look it over to approve me for the practical follow-up."

A small smile graced Snape's features for the better part of a second before he put down the newspaper and held out his hand.

"I could do with some more interesting reading," he sighed, "It would seem as if the writers for The Daily Prophet are becoming less and less competent. Go on and hand it over."

Harry thrust the sheets of parchment forward with a bit more force than was necessary causing him to lose the last few pages that weren't held firmly in place.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled as he ducked and clumsily picked up the pages from where they landed. He handed them over to Snape who added them to the back of the theorem, shaking his head in mild amusement.

"There's no need to be so nervous," he said in a calm voice, "I am here to assist and guide you, not to shoot your ideas down."

Harry relaxed somewhat and waited with his hands clasped behind his back.

Snape sighed heavily. "Take a seat and keep yourself occupied, Harry," he ordered, "Judging by the length of this, I will be reading for a long while. And I will not have you staring at me while I do so."

"Of course, sir," Harry agreed. He grabbed one of Snape's potions books – one Harry had already read several times – and curled up in the chair next to the fireplace.

Snape chuckled and started reading, expertly ignoring the glances Harry chanced every now and then.

It quite literally took hours for Snape to get through Harry's theorem. His face had not once betrayed his thoughts and it was driving Harry mad. He had finished with the book some time ago and was quickly overcome with boredom. And yes, that was a welcome change from the anxiety he had been feeling for those first thirty minutes Snape had been reading but he wanted to get this over with already.

In his mind, he went over his idea several times, hoping that Snape would not find too many faults with it and allow Harry to further his studies. He had been working on the theory for months now, after all, and was just itching to start throwing those ingredients together and see a result. As a manner of speaking, of course. He would never haphazardly throw ingredients together. Not anymore, at least.

Finally, Snape cleared his throat and Harry looked up from the spot on the table he had been staring at vacantly, meeting Snape's cold, calculated expression.

"First of all, I would like to impress upon you the importance of the presentation of your theorem," Snape spoke.

Harry frowned, not interested in such things at all but waited and listened politely.

"I see that you have utilized the standard parchment that is commonly used in this school," Snape pointed out. "While fine for common homework and notes, your theorem – especially that of a Magnum Opus – should always be produced on decent parchment. In fact, having grown up in a muggle household, I am certain that you're aware of the existence of paper. While the wizarding world is generally behind when it comes to appreciating the inventions of the common muggle, when it comes to important tasks such as these, we make grateful use of their craftiness."

Harry had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Instead, he calmly said: "Use paper, not parchment. Understood."

Snape smirked at him but didn't comment.

"Furthermore, the terminology you used is far too complicated," Snape continued, "If it were for my eyes only, that would be fine but you need to remember that when you publish a theorem, more people than potioneers will read it. A master in herbology, for instance, might take great interest and in your case, I might even suggest that a seer might deem this a compelling read. Therefore, you have to make this easier to understand."

"Dumb it down," Harry snorted, "got it."

"Watch the cheek, brat," Snape chided lightly this time. He sighed and continued.

"You must remember that this is a scientific text. Therefore, you should avoid using opinions and emotional sentences above all else. Otherwise, you come across as biased from the start and will not be taken seriously."

Harry nodded in understanding, still waiting anxiously for any comment about the contents of the theorem rather than the surrounding technicalities.

"I've noticed that your arithmetic skills leave much to be desired," Snape droned on relentlessly, "I've encountered three major errors that would leave your potion inert at best and cause mass destruction at worst. Furthermore, you didn't specify the thickness or the type of cauldron one should use for this potion nor the material of the accompanying stirrer. You added the use of a spell in the potion but didn't specify how the spell works or how one goes about casting it. Especially since you're using a spell that is not well known, it is of crucial importance that you do so."

Harry's confidence had been decreasing more and more over the course of Snape's carefully structured criticism and by the end, he didn't have much hope left. Yet he still dared to ask.

"Could I start brewing it while I rework the theory? As soon as I've worked out the math properly, of course."

Snape regarded Harry carefully, making the boy feel like some sort of rare and valuable potion ingredient. A flicker of sadness marred the stoic appearance Snape was trying to convey, if only for a second before he spoke again.

"Out of the question," Snape said, "In fact, I believe that this potion should never be attempted, even when the theorem is perfected. It is dangerous not to mention quite dark. Even when you manage to brew it, I can only imagine the devastating effects this will have on the drinker's psyche. I cannot condone this." Snape sighed deeply. "I suggest you start from scratch and come up with something less… controversial."

"How can you say that?" Harry bellowed, his temper quickly taking hold of him, "I've been working on this for months! It's not dark. It's supposed to help people!"

"Harry –"

"No!" Harry interrupted, "You're supposed to be so great. You could probably think of something to help me realize this. I know you could! But of course, you don't! Why would you when you obviously can't even face my mother!"

Harry grabbed his theorem and stormed out of the door, leaving a befuddled Snape behind. He regretted what he said immediately but was too upset to go back and apologize. He had put so much time and work in this! And it took Snape only a couple of hours to decide that he was inadequate and not allowed to brew his creation.

Upset, he ran all the way to the Gryffindor tower and stormed into the common room where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sat.

"Harry," Ginny said, getting up as soon as she saw how upset Harry was. "Are you okay?"

"No," Harry snapped, "Snape says I can't make my potion!"

"Oh Harry," Hermione said soothingly, "I'm sure he'll allow it once you polish the theory just a bit more."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Oh no," he said, "Snape was very clear. I can't brew it. Not now, not ever. Months of research, out the window!"

Angrily, he slammed the parchment onto the table and sat down with a frustrated sigh.

"Well, what did he say?" Ron asked, unsure of what he could contribute to a highly academic problem.

"He said it's dangerous and dark," Harry said flatly, "And that there was no way to drink this safely."

The three Gryffindors shared a look and Harry narrowed his eyes.

"What?" he growled.

"Well," Ginny started, "It's just that Snape is a well-respected Potions Master. He probably knows what he's talking about."

"How can you say that?" Harry asked, angrily getting to his feet again, "You're supposed to be on my side."

"We are!" Ginny countered, "And so is Snape. We just don't want you to get hurt."

For a second, Harry felt his chest tighten with a twinge of guilt when he remembered what he had said – well more like yelled – to Snape before storming out. It was cruel, especially when Snape was indeed just looking out for him. But then his disappointment came washing back over him and swept his guilt away like the ocean would footprints in the sand.

"Fine," he scowled, turning his back on the three traitors. "I can see how it is."

"Harry –" Ginny started, reaching out to him.

"Don't," Harry spat at her, "I need to be alone for a while."

And with this theorem under his arm, he left the Gryffindor tower once more, swiftly losing hope of being treated fairly. But perhaps, there was one more person that could help Snape see the light. Steeling his resolve once more, Harry headed towards Dumbledore's office.

Harry was about ready to blast that gargoyle to pieces when it refused to allow him entrance for the umpteenth time. Harry had named every sweet he had ever encountered, be it muggle or wizard and the blasted thing still wouldn't open.

Just when Harry was on the verge of pulling out his hair, the gargoyle finally moved, revealing Dumbledore waiting at the top of the stairs.

"Come on up, my boy," he said loudly, "It would not do for you to blast the hallway to pieces."

Harry mumbled something under his breath about ancient headmasters but made his way up anyway. When he entered Dumbledore's office, he was surprised to find Slughorn seated there already. The man greeted him warmly and Harry reciprocated politely.

"The password is simply 'milky way'," Dumbledore informed Harry, "But I asked Archibald not to allow anyone entrance while I am up here with Horace. Of course, I didn't account for one very upset potioneer in training to grace me with his presence."

"Archibald?" Harry asked.

"The gargoyle, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled, "Have a lemon drop."

"No thank you, sir," Harry said dryly.

"Very well," Dumbledore conceded, "Now how may I help you?"

Harry glanced over at Slughorn, not sure if he should speak with the man present but Dumbledore waved his concerns aside.

"If this is about anything to do with your apprenticeship, I assure you that Horace is more than capable to enlighten you with his insights. Two heads are better than one, as I always say."

Harry shrugged. Maybe Slughorn would be on his side and would be able to come up with a way to help Harry, even if Snape couldn't or wouldn't.

"He won't allow me to brew my potion," Harry explained, placing his theorem on Dumbledore's desk. Slughorn took it immediately and started leafing through it but Dumbledore simply steepled his fingers and smiled warmly as he listened to Harry.

"I've been working on this for months," Harry repeated for the third time that day, "And now Snape won't even allow me to go forward with this. I mean, I know there are some errors in there and I mean full well to correct them but I really don't think this will be as dangerous as he makes it out to be.

"Do you feel that Professor Snape is treating you unfairly?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry sighed in frustration. "No," he said, "Not on purpose anyway but I think that he lets his personal feelings get in the way."

"Harry, this is brilliant!" Slughorn exclaimed after a short while as he thumbed through the list of ingredients and regarded the formula carefully. "There might be some consistency errors here and there but you could really make this work. This could very well be the discovery of the century!"

Harry felt his disappointment and anger diminish somewhat while Slughorn gushed over his theorem. At least there was someone who saw its potential.

"Horace," Dumbledore said gently, "Would you kindly leave Harry and I alone to talk for a while? We shall revisit our own discussion at a later date."

"Are you sure, headmaster?" Slughorn asked, "I'm sure I could be of value if –"

But Dumbledore held up a calm hand, stopping every objection Slughorn could have. When Dumbledore regarded you with the look in his eye that he had now, you knew that you should make yourself scarce. And so Slughorn fled Dumbledore's office but not without squeezing Harry's shoulder reassuringly as he left.

"Harry," Dumbledore said warmly, the sparkle in his eyes already back at full force. "You and I have faced each other many times in the past. Be it in this office, the hospital ward or anywhere else. But it has occurred to me that we have never had a professional conversation before. Before anything else, I want you to know how pleased I am to know that there is now room in your life for these sorts of problems. Your life is no longer focused solely on the destruction of Voldemort and so we can move on to more pleasant conversation."

Dumbledore sighed solemnly as he glanced over Harry's theorem and Fawkes thrilled sadly in accordance.

"And yet it would appear that Voldemort still influences your life somewhat," Dumbledore continued, "If only through the absence of the people you deserve to have here for you."

"He doesn't run my life, sir," Harry objected quietly, "These choices are my own."

"There is no shame in being shaped by the life you've lived, Harry," Dumbledore said, "Even if there was a great deal of sadness in yours. I hope you don't misunderstand me. Voldemort is in no way dictating your actions from this life or the next, but our experiences shape us. And yours have shaped a longing for what might have been. I am sad to admit that I too am sometimes plagued by such notions."

"Which is why I want to brew this potion," Harry said earnestly.

"Allow me to give you some grandfatherly advice," Dumbledore said as he laid out the pieces of parchment next to one another as if he was making an overcomplicated puzzle.

"Your journey into attaining this mastery has only scarcely begun. And you will encounter many pitfalls along the way. It is only natural that you require direction to follow this path correctly but when I look at your theorem I sense that this is something you still lack, as do any young pioneers such as yourself. You don't lack knowledge. Of that, I can see the proof right here. But you have to gain that sense of direction to even begin going anywhere."

"Because Harry," Dumbledore added with a knowing look in his eyes. "It is not the destination that matters, it's the journey that takes us there."

Feeling somewhat deflated, Harry leaned back into his chair, actually grabbing a lemon drop.

"So I suppose that you think Snape is right?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore chided lightly, "And you would do well to remember that he is your mentor and far more knowledgeable than you are at this stage."

Harry sighed in defeat.

"Having said that, I don't agree that you should simply discard your entire project and start anew."

Harry's green eyes filled with hope. "Do you mean that I could still make this work?"

"I certainly believe so, Harry," Dumbledore said, "For now, you should probably leave your project to simmer. There is no shame in that, you know? I have projects going on that I have let simmer for decades simply to give myself some time to think it over."

Dumbledore chuckled at the horrified look Harry gave him.

"Not that I had that in mind for you, my boy," he assured him, "But I do think you should put a halt to this potion until you've mastered Occlumency."

Harry actually snorted at that. "Professor?" he asked, "I feel like that's neither here nor there."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "Trust me on this, Harry," he said gently, "And tell Severus what I said. I'm sure he will adjust his opinion accordingly."

"Alright," Harry said doubtfully as he took his cue to leave, forgetting to take this theorem with him.

Harry felt slightly better after the conversation with Dumbledore but was not looking forward to facing Snape just yet. He had said something admittedly horrible to the Potions Master, even though the man was obviously only trying to help. Sure, he hadn't needed to be so dramatic about it but Harry's reaction was still over the top.

In fact, it was reactions like that, that had made it so bloody difficult for Harry to master Occlumency. He was fine as long as he wasn't emotional but those times were rare indeed. It was a good thing he hadn't been sorted into Slytherin way back when. He wouldn't have lasted a week surrounded by the cool and collected personas of Snape's house.

Harry walked all the way back to the dungeons, passing Professor Bell on his way to Snape's personal quarters. He stopped for a moment to help her out.

"Are you lost again, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Oh Harry, thank Goodness," Bell said, "Good to see you. I'm afraid that I can't find the staircase to the second floor."

"You wouldn't down here, Professor," Harry said, "We're in the dungeons. You need to go all the way back until you see the doors to the great hall and take a right."

"That sounds easy enough," Bell said, smiling thankfully. "But where are you going?"

"To see Professor Snape," Harry sighed with a somewhat haunted look in his eyes. Bell frowned slightly at that. "Anyway, good luck, Professor!" Harry exclaimed before turning the corner that led to Snape's personal quarters.

He was about to knock on the door when he heard loud voices come from within.

"I can't believe you would keep Harry from personal growth, Severus!" Came the unmistakable voice of Slughorn. "This potion is nothing short of genius."

"I will not endanger his life and mind for the completion of a potion, no matter how brilliant it might be," Snape countered strongly.

"Sometimes you need to take chances to improve yourself," Slughorn said.

"Not at this stage," Snape growled, "Not when he's still learning to find his own way."

Then Slughorn said something indiscernible to which Snape replied; "Above anything else, he's still my son."

Harry swallowed thickly and knocked on the door, tired of eavesdropping. It took a few seconds longer than normal for Snape to beckon him to come in and when he did, Harry opened the door slowly and doubtfully.

"Come in, Harry," Snape sighed when the boy kept dawdling at the door, "Professor Slughorn was just leaving."

Slughorn made a noise in the back of his throat and glared at Snape who was completely undeterred by the shorter man's gaze. He then turned to Harry and sighed solemnly.

"I'm sorry Harry," he said, "I tried."

And he left as Harry stood there somewhat awkwardly.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with a sense of the melodramatic today," he said painfully as he shuffled his feet.

Snape regarded him before turning to face the fire.

"Sit down, Harry," he said curtly. Harry was glad to find no anger or resentment in Snape's voice. The poorly disguised hurt on his face cut Harry deeply, though.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out as he hastily sat down in accordance with Snape's command. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

"No, you shouldn't have," Snape said softly. He had his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed into the flames. Anxiously, Harry licked his lips, his hands playing with a stray thread of his cloak.

"I was upset," Harry said, "But it was still wrong of me. I really am sorry."

This time Snape faced Harry and found the boy sitting there, resigned to his fate. He sighed softly.

"I forgive you, Harry," he said, "Though I do not condone your behaviour in the least. I will have you know that many accomplished masters have started projects that months or sometimes even years later proved to be useless or simply too dangerous to ever use or even brew. This will happen again."

"I understand sir," Harry acknowledged.

There was a moment of silence in which Snape regarded Harry carefully.

"I realize you visited with the headmaster," Snape then said softly, "And Professor Slughorn as well. Did you hope that they would overturn my decision?"

"Well, yes and no," Harry admitted honestly, "I didn't expect to find Slughorn there but Dumbledore didn't send him away. I never meant to include him. I did hope that Dumbledore might talk to you and have you come up with a solution."

Snape sneered, "And how did that work out for you?"

"Well –" Harry started, not sure how Snape would take this mad suggestion.

"Out with it," Snape snarled, crossing his arms tightly.

"He suggested that I master occlumency."

For a moment, Snape's face was frozen in a mask of disbelief and Harry wondered idly if he should floo the hospital wing. But then, the Potions Master shook his head incredulously, smiling as he did so.

"That brilliant old man," he muttered, seemingly forgetting that Harry was still in the room. "Occlumency, of course! It is that simple."

He started pacing in front of the fireplace. Harry had to tuck in his legs, afraid that Snape would trip over them if he didn't.

"It's rather genius, really," Snape continued muttering, "If one could lock down their mind while still allowing for – but that would also mean that –"

"Professor?" Harry interrupted.

Snape stopped his pacing and looked at his charge with interest and excitement in his eyes.

"Harry," he said solemnly, "It appears that this time, you truly will need to master occlumency."

I know what you're thinking! Damn, MS. Occlumency again? I thought you abandoned that idea altogether? But no sirree, here it is! Back for more. How do you all expect this to go? I hope you'll look forward to what comes next. And please, please throw me a review!