Hogwarts Castle, first floor — the Potions Office.
Professor Snape was staring at Harry with an expression that all but said, You can't be serious.
"So you want to learn how to weave false memories?"
"Yes, Professor." Harry nodded eagerly.
Snape gave something like a snort through his nose. Narrowing his eyes, he studied Harry for a long moment before finally saying slowly, "Then why not ask your dog of a godfather? You ought to know, I am merely the Potions Master, while your dogfather is the assistant in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
He bit down hard on the word assistant, as though making a point.
Harry caught the implication. Snape was simply taking the opportunity to sneer at Sirius, all while making it very clear he wasn't inclined to help.
The subtext read: Go find someone else. I'm really not being modest here.
Harry drew in a long breath. Still, he knew better than anyone that Snape was a master of Occlumency—history had already proven it. After all, he had survived under Voldemort, the greatest Legilimens of all time, while playing the role of double agent. That alone meant Snape's Occlumency was perfected beyond compare.
"But I heard you're a master of Occlumency," Harry said, forcing a smile. "Professor Dumbledore himself mentioned it once, and I remembered it… The very first person who came to my mind was you, as the most skilled practitioner of Occlumency."
Snape was momentarily stunned. Though he and James Potter had reached a strained sort of reconciliation, to see that familiar face acknowledge him as a master stirred a rare, genuine satisfaction in his heart.
Good.
Very good…
But when he looked again, he found himself staring into a pair of green eyes, bright and glistening. So achingly familiar…
Ah… Lily…
His resistance wavered. Perhaps… perhaps this wasn't unacceptable after all.
But he couldn't just let Potter get his way so easily.
"Hmph."
Snape gave a haughty snort, fixing Harry with a long, piercing look. Then he spoke: "Since you want to learn the advanced applications of Occlumency, you'll need to show some sincerity, Potter."
"Sincerity?" Harry was baffled.
What more sincerity could he possibly need?
"Since you believe your dogfather lacks talent in Occlumency…" Snape's eyes gleamed with malice.
"If you can convince him to persuade me, then… I might consider teaching you the advanced applications of Occlumency."
Harry thought it over. It did make sense.
Snape owed him nothing. Why should he grant Harry's request outright? If it were Lily asking, Snape would have agreed without hesitation. But between himself and Snape, the bond was thin—and his father's old grudge with Snape still lingered, reconciliation or not.
Fine then. Show some sincerity.
"All right, Professor," Harry said quickly. "I'll bring him here."
With that, he hurried out of Snape's office without a moment's pause.
His first stop was Professor Lupin's office.
Sirius was Lupin's assistant, so during the day he often sat in the office, helping students with questions.
When Harry arrived, a few sixth-year girls were chatting with Sirius.
Harry could tell Sirius was growing impatient, but he hid it well. Anyone else would have been fooled by his charming, patient demeanor. Only Harry, who knew him so well, noticed the way Sirius's little finger was rubbing against the desk—a sure tell of his restlessness.
The moment Sirius saw Harry step in, he discreetly exhaled in relief.
"All right, ladies," Sirius clapped his hands and addressed the girls. "I've got some private matters to attend to. If you have more questions, come by later or tomorrow, all right?"
"Yes, Professor."
Reluctantly, the girls stood, giggling and whispering as they drifted out of the office.
Harry had a realization. Those girls hadn't come to ask about Defense Against the Dark Arts at all. They were here purely for Sirius himself.
Of course.
His godfather was, after all, ridiculously handsome.
No wonder half the castle seemed to swoon over him, haunting the halls like lovesick stalkers waiting to "randomly" bump into Sirius Black.
"What?" Sirius asked with a grin, wiping his hands with a damp towel. "Something bothering you?"
"No." Harry raised a finger, his face saying see, I knew it. "I'd only be worried if there weren't girls in your office."
"You make it sound like I'm some sort of scoundrel." Sirius laughed, flicking his jacket hem and planting one hand on his hip, looking every bit the picture of effortless charm and swagger.
For those who didn't know the history between Sirius and Snape, it was easy to mistake Snape's relentless hostility toward Sirius as jealousy—jealousy of Sirius's looks and charisma.
And who could say? Maybe there was some truth to it. In Western schools, "nerds" like Snape were the least popular, while athletes and charmers like James reigned supreme. To many, it seemed only natural.
Teachers in England weren't like those in the East—nobody was stepping in to protect the smart but awkward kids.
"You are… rather dashing," Harry admitted cautiously, choosing his words so as not to sound too harsh.
"Ha!"
Sirius beamed at his godson's compliment, tossing his hair with a dazzling grin that could blind onlookers.
Unlike most professors, he hated robes. He preferred leather jackets, flaunting a rebellious, punkish style that bewitched witches of every age—well, except the Slytherins, with their odd taste.
Curiously, it was Ravenclaw that housed his largest fanbase. Not a single Ravenclaw girl seemed immune to Sirius Black's allure.
"So, what's on your mind?" Sirius asked, sinking into his chair and crossing one leg over the other. "At this hour, shouldn't you be busy whispering sweet nothings to your little girlfriends?"
Harry's face flushed. Even with his thick skin, the phrase "little girlfriends" made his cheeks burn.
He cleared his throat. "Actually, I do have something important. Do you remember when Cassandra offered to teach me Occlumency?"
"I remember." Sirius nodded. "Why? Did she hold back on you? Though honestly, I doubt she would, especially given your connection to Voldemort."
"No, not that," Harry said. "I've already mastered the basics. I can clear my mind instantly and block intrusion."
"Can you?" Sirius asked with a mischievous smile.
"Of course." Harry nodded firmly.
Before he finished the word, Sirius had drawn his wand from nowhere and aimed it at him.
"Legilimens!"
Harry instantly emptied his mind.
Sirius encountered only a blank wall and withdrew, clapping his hands in approval. "Not bad! Both your reflexes and your Occlumency are solid. What more do you need?"
"Something more," Harry admitted. "I want to expand my knowledge… to learn the advanced applications."
Sirius nodded approvingly. "Good, very good. One shouldn't rest content with small achievements. I'm glad to see your ambition, Harry." His eyes misted for a moment. "If only James could see this…"
But then his tone shifted. "Still, I must be honest. My Occlumency skills don't go beyond what you've already accomplished. Memory alteration isn't my field. Perhaps you should ask your girlfriends—Miss Grindelwald, or Miss Malfoy."
"I know…" Harry sighed. "Both of them told me this is enough—that I should focus on spells, not waste time on Occlumency."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. Ah. Now he understood.
"Why?" he asked.
"Veratia said I don't need to be a double agent, so advanced Occlumency isn't necessary. Cassandra agreed. They both think the same."
"They have a point," Sirius said with a nod. "If that's their reasoning, it's sound. But what do you think?"
"I still want to learn more," Harry confessed. "But I can't help thinking they have other reasons… That's why I came to you, godfather. You've always understood women best."
Sirius laughed heartily.
"You're right, Harry. But let me tell you—women's hearts are the hardest thing in the world to understand. You could use up all the parchment in the wizarding world and still not write down a fraction of it."
Harry blinked in awe. "That bad?"
"Of course," Sirius chuckled. "Every woman is a different type, and within each type are endless variations. Even with Miss Malfoy—do you truly understand what she's thinking at any given moment?"
Harry hesitated, then admitted, "Uh… no."
"Exactly." Sirius slapped his hand on the desk. "The point isn't to understand them fully—that's impossible. What matters is knowing how to make them happy."
"And what if you can't?" Harry ventured. "What if you had a girlfriend you could never make happy?"
Sirius gave a cold smile. "Then I'd be the unhappy one. Why keep such a girlfriend? To spend Christmas together?"
Harry was momentarily speechless. He actually makes sense…
"Remember this, Harry." Sirius leaned forward, voice earnest. "A woman who truly loves you will get angry sometimes, yes—but only because you've genuinely upset her. Deep down, she'll understand your struggles. She won't pick pointless fights at the worst moments."
"And if she does?" Harry pushed back stubbornly.
"Then she doesn't love you enough." Sirius's answer was crisp. "I've made it plain. No one will love you forever, but there will always be someone who loves you. The secret lies in your own heart."
Harry nodded slowly. He might not grasp it all, but he took Sirius's words seriously.
"Back to the point," he said. "Why won't they let me learn advanced Occlumency?"
"Oh, that's simple." Sirius gave a sly grin. "Because they love you too much. Both Veratia and Cassandra have strong possessive streaks. A century ago, they refused to teach you for one reason: they wanted to know exactly what you were thinking."
"But they still taught me in the end." Harry shrugged.
"Because they had no choice," Sirius said. "They compromised—but only a little."
"Ugh…"
Harry sighed. "Then what do I do? Who else can teach me advanced Occlumency? Dumbledore?"
Sirius shook his head at once. "No. Dumbledore's been busy lately. Always running off to France or Eastern Europe. He won't say why." He frowned, thinking hard. "Let me see… let me think…"
But after a while, Sirius still came up empty.
"Wait." Harry suddenly raised a finger. "What about Professor Snape? He was a spy, wasn't he?"
At Harry's words, Sirius's face froze.
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