Harry Potter Breaking The Chains

After Harry sent Hedwig off with the letter, he returned to his studies. He had turned into somewhat of a machine, it seemed. He spent his entire day studying, practicing spells, improving his wandless abilities, physically training, and training in his animal forms. He spent the majority of each night training with Sirius in his dreams.

Sirius helped him while he was learning knew spells and also served as his dueling partner. His godfather was still the superior dueler, but Harry's skills were improving dramatically. Harry was getting faster and stronger, both physically and magically. He was able to dodge curses while hurling hexes of his own, his shields were able to deflect anything Sirius threw at him, and his reflexes were as sharp as ever.

Prior to this training, Harry had not been accustomed to an all out duel. The way it had always been done in classes had been with opponents alternating shots and shields. In a real duel nothing was so formal. You could volley hexes back and forth or one person could release a barrage of curses one after the other. Harry was still getting used to this aspect of battle, but he was improving every night. He had finally managed to best his godfather the previous night. Sirius had been a mix of happiness and pride in his godson and anger at himself for having been beaten by a fifteen year old. Harry could tell that Sirius had been very proud of him despite his confused emotions.

He began reading his books on Occlumency today, spurred to do so after his first Voldemort related experience of the summer the previous night. His scar had not bothered him at all since their encounter in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He assumed Voldemort had been lying low since his return was finally being acknowledged by the ministry. Last night Harry had been training with Sirius as was normal when he was suddenly ripped from the classroom.

When he was able to orient himself, Harry found himself in a dark, dank cavern surrounded by figures robed in black, faces covered by masks. He had sat upon a rough throne hewn from stone. As he stood up to address his followers, they fell as one to their knees in a bow. "My loyal followers, tonight our number grows. I have called in our faithful servants from Azkaban, and with them come your brothers who were recently captured."

Voldemort paused as a muttering spread through the crowd. "Silence! We have been careful thus far, discreet in our movements to avoid notice. Now the world knows I have returned. They no doubt expect us to make ourselves more public, to spread terror and chaos throughout the land. And we will. Yes, we will. In time. Now is the time to gather up our allies, to build up our numbers. While the world expects us to strike out, we will build up our strength. And just when they let their guard down, we have our coming out party. After all, we wouldn't want to deny the world a chance to celebrate our glorious return. Once we have properly announced our presence to the world, the dark mark will once more light up the skies, striking fear into the hearts of the Wizarding World. And you, my followers, will be allowed to enjoy yourselves torturing and killing muggles, mudbloods, and muggle-lovers. We will show the world the superiority of pure blood."

"Ah, it would seem our guests have arrived," Voldemort commented as several Death Eaters entered. "Welcome. I trust your stay in Azkaban was pleasant. Tell me, how is it that 12 Death Eaters were unable to overcome half a dozen school children?" Voldemort asked in mock calm.

"My lord," Lucius Malfoy answered, stepping forward, "we were trying to protect the prophecy. We could not strike the Potter boy for fear of destroying it."

"That would explain how Potter eluded your grasp, Lucius, but tell me, how is it you were unable to capture one of the other five children running around? Surely you must have realized that Potter would have traded the prophecy had you captured just one of his friends."

"My lord, it was not that easy. Potter was constantly threatening…"

"Silence! I have heard enough of your pathetic excuses," Voldemort raged. "Do not fail me again, Lucius, or you will find the consequences most severe. Potter and his friends will pay. Now I will tell you the same thing I told Bella: Crucio!" A blast of pain shot through Harry's scar as Malfoy dropped to the ground, writhing in agony. Voldemort continued to torture each of the Death Eaters who had been captured at the Ministry. Harry awoke sometime during the torture session in a cold sweat, scar searing in pain.

He spent the next several minutes curled up in a ball on his bed, clutching at his forehead. Eventually the pain began to subside and Harry was able to think clearly and process what he had just witnessed. Harry wondered whether or not he should inform the headmaster of this latest vision. There was nothing conclusive given, but it couldn't hurt to let him know.

He was sure that Dumbledore would soon know about the breakout in Azkaban if he didn't know already. But the threat of impending attacks weighed in on Harry's mind, so he decided to write a letter right away. He stumbled out of bed and over to his desk where he had found a piece of parchment he could use and pulled out his quill and ink to write.

Sir,

Had vision. Prison breakout, Dementors gone. Voldemort laying low for a bit, planning something big before the attacks start.

.....

The letter had been short and to the point, but given the subject matter and the fact that it was early in the morning, Harry hadn't really cared. He had tried to go back to sleep after sending the letter off with Hedwig, but his mind was too preoccupied to allow him rest. He wondered what his godfather was thinking about his sudden disappearance. Harry figured Sirius would assume that he simply woke up unexpectedly.

While lying in bed, he was reminded of how his previous visions of Voldemort had turned out for him and decided not to wait for Snape's Occlumency lessons. Which is how he found himself now pouring through Occlumency: Shield Your Mind . Unsurprisingly, he found the subject to be much more in depth than Snape's simple instruction to "Clear your mind." There were several different methods outlined, but the best explanation Harry had seen thus far told readers to think of their minds as a castle or fortress.

This fortress would be like a city with all the inhabitants and their homes and possessions being his thoughts and memories. The people who were considered less significant would be close to the city walls or even outside of them. These would have hardly any protection. The majority of the people would be within the city walls and would be protected from intruders.

No fortress is completely impregnable, so the most important people would be towards the center of the city housed in a castle with its own protections surrounding it. Should anyone break into the city, they would be bombarded and fought back the minute they stepped foot inside. They would hopefully be expelled before ever reaching the castle in the middle of the city. If they did reach the castle, the intruder would have to break through its defenses while holding off the attack from the rest of the city making the castle all but impossible to break into if you're a gifted Occlumens.

The key, Harry found, was not so much clearing your mind but organizing it. When a Legilimens first attacks, he will only have access to the most trivial thoughts and memories if he breaks through your outer shield, allowing the Occlumens time to expel the intruder without becoming distracted by the memories being viewed.

And so Harry decided that the first step towards mastering Occlumency would be to organize his mind. So he decided to take a few hours every day to sift through his memories and organize them. To help with the process, Harry imagined several different trunks in his mind. He put different labels on each trunk to put similar memories in each one. Each trunk could also have different compartments to further divide his memories into subcategories. School had its own trunk with each of his classes and teachers having their own compartment. Friends was another trunk with each of his good friends getting their own compartment, he put the DA members into another compartment, and other classmates into another.

He created a trunk for enemies which included compartments for Voldemort, Death Eaters, Draco Malfoy, other Slytherins who have sided with Draco or Voldemort, Snape, Fudge/Umbridge/other ministry idiots, and other miscellaneous foes.

He made a trunk for the Order with compartments for Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, Moody, other members, and Order information and secrets. He made a trunk for family, both good and bad. The Dursleys comprised one compartment, his parents another, Sirius had one, and the Weasleys had a compartment. There was also a trunk for miscellaneous pre-Hogwarts memories that ranged from bad to worse.

And he made other various trunks as was needed. It would be a hard process for anybody to go through all their past memories and organize them, but for one who had a lot of bad memories without too many good ones to counteract them, it was a grueling process. Harry was noticeably distressed during this time, and his godfather picked up on it during their nightly sessions.

The organization of his mind lasted for several days, and his training with Sirius was virtually on pause during that time. Sirius had decided it was more important to comfort and reassure his godson during that time than to continue dueling. The boy had been through so much in his young life and had shouldered so many burdens on his own; it was time to try to lighten his load a bit. Sirius asked the questions that he had shied away from when he was alive about Harry's childhood, the Dursleys, some of his rougher times at Hogwarts when so many people had turned their backs on him, his parents, and anything else that came up.