"I'm dead… I'm absolutely dead…"
By the time Harry cried this out in despair, he was already back in Gryffindor Tower.
On the way, he had struggled desperately, trying to run back to the Headmaster's office and force Dumbledore to retract the decision. In his panic, he even blurted out to Professor McGonagall that Snape was the black-robed figure.
Unfortunately for him, only a few hours earlier he and Ron had just gotten into a brawl with Malfoy, and his face was still swollen.
Professor McGonagall crushed his resistance without mercy.
"Mr Potter. Sneaking out at night, copying homework, fighting—despite all that, I still hope you can behave like a sensible child. Now listen carefully: you will follow Albus Dumbledore's arrangements. If you do not, I will give you two weeks of detention—and Professor Snape will supervise it personally."
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
In McGonagall's eyes, Harry had clearly lost all credibility.
Dragged back to the dormitory, Harry finally gave up. He lay stiffly on his bed, staring at the ceiling with hollow eyes, not moving an inch.
Ron, too worried to sleep, ran to the common room and begged Lavender Brown to fetch Hermione from the girls' dormitory.
After hearing Ron's explanation, Hermione frowned.
"Harry—did Dumbledore say anything else?"
She stood at the entrance to the boys' dormitory. Seamus, Neville, and the other boys were wrapped up tightly in their curtains, not daring to make a sound.
The only noise came from Ron's bedside—Scabbers, squealing in terror.
The fat rat was shrieking because Guoguo Tea had followed them as well. The little creature squatted in front of Scabbers' cage, tilting its head back and forth curiously.
Ron ignored it. He shoved Harry a few times before Harry finally snapped out of his daze, his face crumpling.
"No… that's all. He just said that starting tomorrow, Snape will be teaching me Occlumency."
Hermione thought for a moment.
"Then we'll go with you tomorrow."
Ron nodded frantically.
"Yeah! We'll all go together. With that many people around, Snape won't dare do anything!"
From the side, Neville timidly poked his head out.
"Why… why would Snape want to hurt Harry?"
Ron didn't even turn around.
"Nothing, Neville. You're coming too."
Neville: "..."
Seamus and Dean immediately pretended to be asleep.
No one in Gryffindor liked Snape—and no one wasn't afraid of him.
Poor Neville. Why did he have to ask?
They agreed on a time for the next day. Hermione left, and Harry lay there like a dead fish, listening to Ron muttering anxiously and Neville stammering in protest.
Eventually, both of them started snoring.
Harry lay awake all night, mind shattered, tossing and turning.
Early the next morning, Harry stared bleakly as Ron yawned his way out of bed.
Then Ron said shamelessly,
"Harry, I was so worried last night I didn't sleep at all. Look—dark circles!"
…Yeah, right.
Those were from Crabbe's punch.
Harry couldn't be bothered to respond. He washed up, went to breakfast, and—taking advantage of the light morning schedule—snuck off to the eighth floor to try and find Dumbledore.
He used the password McGonagall had spoken the night before.
The ugly stone gargoyle didn't budge.
Instead, Peeves appeared.
"Aha! Harry Potter! Caught you, ditching class! You're in trouble now!"
For Harry, facing Snape was trouble.
He snapped,
"Peeves, shut up! Do you know the Headmaster's password? Tell me—or when Vaughn gets back, I'll have him deal with you!"
Peeves blinked his beady eyes.
"Oh no, poor Peeves couldn't possibly know the password! Dear Harry Potter—are you trying to break into the Headmaster's office?"
Irritated, Harry answered without thinking.
"Yes—"
Before he could finish, Peeves flipped in midair, opened his mouth wide, and shrieked:
"Help! Thief! Someone's trying to break into the Headmaster's office! Filch, you lame-legged fool—come quick and catch Harry Potter!"
Harry fled in panic.
Naturally, he didn't get far. Peeves rode on his head, cackling.
In the end, Harry was hauled by Filch straight to Professor McGonagall.
Seeing her clutching her chest, gasping with rage, Harry sighed and finally accepted his fate.
Adults are useless, he decided.
Hermione's plan was better.
That night, after a full day of mental preparation, Harry picked up a lantern and headed toward the Room of Requirement.
At this point, he wasn't even afraid of Filch anymore. If possible, he'd rather be caught and dragged to the caretaker's office.
Halfway down the corridor, Harry glanced back nervously.
"You're still there, right?"
Ron's voice answered beside him.
"We're right behind you!"
Neville's soft sob followed.
"Honestly… can I go back? If we get caught…"
A few steps away, Hermione said firmly,
"Enough, Neville. We won't get caught. I promise."
"Hermione, why aren't you under the Invisibility Cloak?"
"I'm bringing Guoguo Tea. Don't worry—my Disillusionment Charm is decent. Hurry, Harry. You have to go no matter what."
Harry sighed and trudged onward.
On the eighth floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls, the door to the Room of Requirement had already appeared, slightly ajar, warm yellow light spilling out.
Harry rubbed his trousers nervously, glanced at the empty corridor behind him, and pushed the door open.
It was the same small study he used to practice in with Vaughn.
But tonight, everything felt cold.
Because standing by the fireplace was a tall figure dressed entirely in black—silent as a ghost.
Snape.
Harry swallowed hard. He deliberately left the door cracked wide and subtly gestured behind him.
It was useless.
Snape turned, those black eyes seeming to pierce straight through Harry.
In his signature drawl, he said,
"Granger. Weasley. Longbottom. Out."
"..."
Harry forced a stiff smile.
"There's… no one here, Professor…"
"I'll say it once more. Out. And close the door."
Silence.
Creak.
The sound of the door closing felt like thunder in Harry's ears.
Outside, Ron yanked off the Invisibility Cloak, whispering in panic,
"It's over. I got scared and obeyed him. Is Snape going to kill Harry?"
He could already imagine Harry reduced to an unrecognizable smear.
Neville's teeth chattered uncontrollably.
Only Hermione, dispelling her Disillusionment Charm, stared thoughtfully at Guoguo Tea.
The little creature was restless, sniffing the air as if searching for something, yet it refused to leave Hermione's side—it still needed to help her deal with Mrs Norris.
Bang.
The door shut.
Harry felt like his head had been smashed by a troll's club—numb, hollow, thoughts surging and dissolving until nothing could hold them.
Snape's cold gaze slowly drifted downward. His upper lip curled.
"The famous Boy-Who-Lived is nervous? How self-aware. You know you're nothing but a fool—no, forgive me. That would be an insult to fools."
That finally snapped Harry back to reality.
He inhaled sharply.
He couldn't resist Dumbledore's decision.
But he could resist Snape.
You won't read my mind, you disgusting old bat.
And he couldn't let Snape know that he'd already seen through him.
Harry recalled everything Vaughn had taught him. He forced his thoughts into order, locking memories behind a cold, blank shell.
For over a month now, he'd been able to maintain this barrier while awake—but its strength always fell short. Once he slept, it collapsed easily.
Vaughn said it was because Harry lacked real survival pressure.
Now?
Harry felt his sense of danger max out.
Extreme focus came with a price. His expression grew cold.
"Begin, Snape… Professor."
Snape froze.
Those eyes—cold, green, empty of emotion—
Just like hers had been, twenty years ago.
Pain stabbed his heart.
Then he saw Harry's face again.
That face.
Pain turned to fury.
"Legilimens!"
The spell crashed into Harry's mind like a hammer.
Darkness swallowed everything.
His mental world convulsed—storms, lightning, nameless horrors born from fear.
Harry didn't see them. He only knew terror.
And he finally understood what real survival pressure meant.
This was nothing like training with Vaughn.
Not because Vaughn was weaker—
But because Vaughn had never hated him.
Deep within Harry's mind, a vague humanoid mist silently lifted its head, observing everything… recording it.
Harry didn't know how he endured.
When Snape finally stopped, Harry was drenched in sweat.
As sensation returned, light flooded back into his vision.
He felt as if he'd lived another lifetime.
Snape, too, was shaking slightly, secretly clenching his trembling hand.
Harry laughed weakly—
And paid for it immediately.
"Enjoying yourself, Potter? Yes, you defended against Legilimency—while helpless and immobile. A remarkable feat… for an idiot."
"I wasn't enjoying it, Professor."
"Then wipe that disgusting smile off your face."
Harry clenched his fists, barely restraining himself.
Snape raised his chin disdainfully.
"Twenty minutes. Then we continue."
Harry's face went white.
"Professor, twenty minutes is too short—"
"Ten minutes," Snape cut in coldly. "Any objections?"
Harry ground his teeth.
"No, Professor."
"Excellent. I expect better this time. Your defense just now was barely superior to a troll's."
"And your attack felt like Aunt Petunia tickling Dudley."
Snape's face darkened.
"…Very well, Potter. Let's see if your mind is as tough as your mouth."
They stared each other down.
Ten minutes later—
Another brutal clash began.
From the corner of the room, invisible, Vaughn watched with amusement.
To him, it looked less like a mental duel and more like two idiots staring intensely, twitching, collapsing, and recovering.
After sixty minutes, Harry collapsed first.
After ninety, he fainted outright.
Vaughn applauded softly.
"Magnificent. A textbook mental duel."
"Check if the Chosen One is still alive," Snape snarled.
Vaughn crouched, eyes glowing faintly.
"Occlumency intact. Passive but functional… Professor, Harry seems extremely wary of you. I've never seen his subconscious so alert."
Snape's expression darkened further.
"Excellent results," Vaughn concluded cheerfully. "We really should've started earlier."
"Vaughn—Weasley!"
"Alright, alright."
Snape opened the door.
Ron and Neville rushed in.
"Harry—!"
"He's just fainted," Hermione said quickly.
Snape sneered.
"Ten points from Gryffindor. Ronald Weasley attempted to assault a professor."
"I didn't—I just—my scalp itched!"
"Another ten points for sarcasm."
Ron shut up.
As they left, Snape added viciously,
"Take him to St Mungo's if you like. The precious Boy-Who-Lived needs a hundred wizards worrying about his brain."
They fled.
Snape stalked off, robe billowing.
Left alone, Vaughn shrugged.
Then, as he exited the Room of Requirement—
A large cat came bounding around the corner.
And behind it, Hermione, in her nightclothes, eyes shining.
"I knew you were here."
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 70 chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/FinalArcHero789