Love makes people brave
Before Harry could respond, Queenie continued, "Well, but you might be at sea then, right? Then I'll wait until you come back. I want to see you as soon as you get back."
Queenie was so thoughtful, Harry couldn't say no.
He unconsciously swallowed hard. "Of course." If—and he meant if—he told Queenie that the voyage would take nearly two years, would that be feasible?
Fifteen-year-old Harry is facing the biggest dilemma of his life so far: how to satisfy his girlfriend while rejecting her?
Harry racked his brains over this, and finally tried to brainstorm ideas, even asking Kreacher for his opinion.
After his last date with Queenie before the start of the school year, Harry Apparates to the vicinity of 12 Grimmauld Place, where Kreacher is waiting for him at the usual spot, as instructed by his master.
"Thank you, Kreacher."
Kreacher responded with a disgusted glance, as always.
Harry was already immune to this. As time drew nearer, his mind was filled with the thing Queenie wanted to do but couldn't yet. "Suppose the most important person in your life asks you to do something, but for some reason you have to lie to her—well, to him… no, you have to refuse—even though it might not be a big deal… uh, no…" Harry found he couldn't bring himself to talk about this problem while keeping the truth hidden. Besides, why was he asking the house-elf? Kreacher was probably thinking the Savior's brain had finally broken down. He sighed. "Alright, never mind, let's go in."
Kreacher seemed to have listened, a hint of blankness appearing on its ugly, aged face. "The master's orders are above all else..."
Harry was surprised; this was the first time Kreacher had ever spoken a complete sentence to him without using an insult. He thought for a moment and said, "Perhaps it's in the nature of house-elves, but I don't think it should be more important than your own safety...?"
Kreacher snapped out of his strange mood, stared at him oddly for a moment, and then let out a cryptic "humph."
Harry, "...?"
Even after boarding the train to Hogwarts, Harry held his quill, tracing the tip back and forth on his chin, but still couldn't write a single word. The nautical logbook that had once inspired him to write so diligently now seemed like a Potions class assignment, and he was struggling to get an A.
When Hermione returned, Harry was still lost in thought.
"Have you finished writing your logbook?"
"Not yet... Where's Ron?"
Hermione closed the carriage door. "He got his clothes wet from the twins' prank and is cleaning up in the restroom." She peeked into Harry's precious notebook. "Isn't everything planned out?"
"Hmm, I need to add some details..."
"Commendable spirit," Hermione said half-heartedly, then turned to rummage through her suitcase; there was a book she hadn't finished reading.
"Actually, I need your help."
"What?"
“How can I subtly tell Queenie in every contact that we’re going to be at sea for almost two years?” Harry was extremely distressed.
Hermione stopped moving, frowned, and subconsciously raised her voice, casting a silencing spell at the same time, "You're breaking up with Queenie?!"
"Of course not!"
Harry recounted the whole story, albeit haltingly, under Hermione's stern gaze.
Then Hermione burst out laughing.
Harry, enraged, yelled, "Hermione!"
"Hahaha, sorry Harry! But—hahaha! You did the right thing, your age—cough, is indeed not quite right—hahaha!"
Harry waited with a blank expression until she finished laughing.
"I'm sorry—" Hermione barely suppressed a smile, "but it's definitely not realistic not to see each other for the next two years, right?"
"Of course I know that's unrealistic, but I really can't think of any better way." Harry slumped onto the small table, completely exhausted, looking utterly dejected.
“Don’t worry, there are still more than two months until Queenie’s birthday. Whether it’s a birthday present or a reasonable solution to the initial—cough cough—I can think of something. I’ll help you.” Hermione couldn’t think of any good ideas for the moment. More importantly, she had to remind Harry of something else, “Instead of that, have you thought about how to deal with Professor Snape’s tutoring? He might invade your brain, and then—”
Harry jolted awake—Merlin's stockings! Ever since he saw Queenie during the holidays, he had completely forgotten about tutoring!
The carriage door was flung open with a whoosh, followed by Ron's complaint, "Fred's Drying Charm went too far. I bet he did it on purpose!"
The situation inside the carriage was a bit strange. Harry looked unwell, while Hermione—her face was flushed, her eyes were filled with tears, and a happy smile was on her lips.
Ron frowned and asked, "What are you doing?"
"Nothing, I just read a joke."
"Really? What kind of joke?"
"Weasley tricked Weasley."
"……All right."
Snape's tutoring session arrived as scheduled.
Harry successfully resisted Hermione's Legilimency with Hermione's help. It's unknown how powerful Snape is—although he must be more powerful than Hermione's Legilimency—but it's better than nothing.
Harry stepped onto the spiral staircase leading to the cellar. It was constructed the same way as the Tulip Staircase he had visited with Queenie during the Christmas holidays, but it was much darker, and even the torches on the walls seemed cold.
But Slytherins are snakes, and that's what they like.
Queenie, on the other hand, was completely different; she was like a little sun.
Oh wait, he can't think about Queenie anymore; it's not helping him clear his mind.
Harry paused, took a deep breath, and used Occlumency to calm himself before continuing toward Snape's office.
Almost as soon as he reached the office door, it was opened, and the cold, hard face he had seen during class that day came into view. Harry focused his gaze on Snape's forehead, trying not to look into his eyes—Hermione had said that Snape would give him time to prepare, but she couldn't completely rule out the possibility that he would give him a hard time as soon as they met, given how much he disliked Harry.
Fortunately, Snape had no intention of catching him off guard. He merely glanced at Harry before turning away. "It's obvious that the Dark Lord's mind is somehow connected to your existence. Whether he himself is aware of this connection is currently unknown, but hopefully—what are you standing there for? Do I have to tell you before you'll close the door?"
“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized reflexively. “You mean, even if he realizes it, he can’t read my mind as long as I have Occlumency?” He added a polite address to Snape’s gaze, “Professor Snape.”
“Mind reading is the most basic ability; he can even control it, disrupt it.” Snape gestured for him to sit down. “If you’re not so hopeless, I’ll assume you’ve already gained some basic knowledge of Occlumency during the Christmas holidays—”
Harry's gaze darted slightly. He had learned quite a bit about Occlumency, but not during the Christmas holidays. Oh, the Christmas holidays, those were truly wonderful times—
"—Searching for the Soul!"
Harry panicked for a moment. Snape had actually used tactics! Against a fifth-year student! To lower his guard first and then strike unexpectedly!
Snape was intent on exploring, but Harry hadn't been prepared from the start, and some fragments flashed by uncontrollably. Then Harry successfully used Occlumency to expel Snape from his mind.
He slumped into the chair, panting heavily. Well, now he knew why Snape had been unusually kind enough to provide him with a chair.
Snape looked puzzled. He had brought up Christmas specifically to remind Potter of his holiday, but he hadn't expected such an unexpected bonus.
In any case, the adult Potter was more like his hateful father. Snape's tone was full of sarcasm. "Dating? At a time like this? As expected of the savior Potter, what can I say? You have some brains, knowing to use an aging serum to cover it up a little?"
"..." No, he didn't use the aging serum to cover up something, at least not in the way Snape thought.
“Look at me, Potter. I hope your monstrous head isn’t just full of frivolity and stupidity. Come on.”
During that evening's after-school tutoring, Harry didn't let Snape see any more scenes related to Queenie—although he still simply and crudely banished Snape from his mind without any finesse. Exhausted, he didn't realize that Snape's brow had relaxed imperceptibly a little.
Later that evening, in the principal's office.
After reading the memories in the Pensieve, Dumbledore remarked, "It's good to be young, to be able to experience the beauty of love."
Snape's face darkened.
“Oh, don’t be so serious, Severus. Harry did a great job, didn’t he? He’s quite talented at Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
"Excuse my bluntness, but he's just like his father—lazy, arrogant, and haughty..."
“Severus, I noticed that Harry hasn’t let you see any more of that girl—even though he can’t control all his memories. Apparition, Occlumency, Legilimency—these aren’t things you can achieve in just one Christmas break. Do you think Harry and his friends taught themselves these things beforehand?” Dumbledore’s deep blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles shone with satisfaction. “Love makes people brave, just like you, Severus.”
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