The mind is the most vulnerable place in this world.
That was my first conclusion.
And my greatest disappointment.
"Again."
My father's voice was calm, but firm.
I sat across from him in a quiet chamber deep within Nurmengard, the walls lined with protective enchantments layered so densely that even I could appreciate their craftsmanship.
Candles flickered softly between us.
No distractions.
No interruptions.
Only focus.
"Clear your thoughts," he said, watching me carefully. "Not suppressed. Not hidden. Cleared."
I tilted my head slightly.
"That is inefficient."
A pause.
Then the faintest hint of amusement touched his expression.
"Is it?"
"Yes," I replied simply. "A cleared mind invites intrusion. There is nothing to defend. Nothing to misdirect."
He didn't respond immediately.
Good.
He was thinking.
"Show me," he said.
I closed my eyes.
Occlumency.
A fascinating discipline.
Primitive in concept…
But elegant in execution.
Most in this world approach it incorrectly.
They attempt to empty their minds.
To become still.
Silent.
But silence is fragile.
Instead—
I build.
Layer by layer.
My mind does not empty.
It expands.
A vast library forms within my consciousness—endless shelves stretching into darkness, filled with books containing every thought, every memory, every fragment of knowledge I possess.
Then—
I begin to sort.
Irrelevant thoughts are pushed forward.
Surface-level distractions.
Childish curiosities.
Harmless observations.
Behind them—
Doors.
Locked.
Sealed.
And deeper still—
A core.
Untouchable.
I open my eyes.
"I am ready."
Father's gaze sharpens.
"Good."
There is no warning.
The attack is instant.
A presence slams against my mind—not crude, not violent, but precise. Searching. Probing.
Testing.
Legilimency.
I feel it move through the outer layers.
Touching the surface thoughts I have prepared.
Books of meaningless detail.
Fragments of harmless curiosity.
It lingers.
Then pushes deeper.
It meets the first door.
Locked.
It does not break.
It does not force.
It studies.
Good.
I adjust.
The library shifts.
Subtly.
Naturally.
Nothing appears out of place.
Nothing appears hidden.
The illusion is perfect.
After a few moments—
The presence withdraws.
Silence returns.
I blink once.
Calm.
Unbothered.
Father is staring at me.
"…Well," he says slowly.
"That was… unexpected."
I tilt my head.
"You attempted to bypass the surface layer too quickly," I say. "Your approach was efficient, but predictable."
He lets out a quiet breath—almost a laugh.
"You're critiquing me?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then—
He smiles.
Not the amused smile.
Not the charismatic one.
The dangerous one.
"I see," he says softly. "Then tell me… what would you do differently?"
I consider for a moment.
"Patience," I reply. "You applied pressure too early. A skilled mind will always resist direct intrusion. Subtlety would yield better results."
His eyes narrow slightly.
"And if I were subtle?"
"Then I would let you in."
Silence.
"…You would what?"
"Allow controlled access," I explain. "To a constructed layer. One designed to satisfy your curiosity while revealing nothing of value."
He studies me for a long moment.
"…You've done this before."
"Yes."
"Extensively?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
A quiet chuckle escapes him.
"Albus is going to have a very difficult time with you."
Ah.
Albus Dumbledore
So he is already considering it.
"Will he attempt to read my mind?" I ask.
"Yes," Father replies without hesitation. "Not immediately. Not openly. But he will be curious."
"Curiosity is predictable."
"It is," he agrees. "But do not underestimate him."
"I do not."
That would be foolish.
From what I have gathered—
Dumbledore is powerful.
Extremely so.
Perhaps the only one in this world who could be considered… interesting.
Which makes this all the more necessary.
"I will refine it further," I say.
"Good," Father replies. "Because what you've created—"
He pauses, searching for the right word.
"—is not Occlumency."
I look at him.
"No," I agree.
It isn't.
This is something else.
Something better.
A fusion of two worlds.
Ancient mind magic…
And structured magical defense.
A fortress.
No—
A labyrinth.
One that no one enters…
Unless I allow it.
Father watches me for a moment longer, then stands.
"We'll continue tomorrow," he says.
I nod slightly.
As he turns to leave, he pauses at the doorway.
"…Elaine."
"Yes?"
"…Don't let anyone see that."
I consider that.
Then—
A small, knowing smile forms.
"Of course not."
The door closes behind him.
And I am alone once more.
Perfect.
I close my eyes again.
And begin improving.
Because in this world—
Power is not just magic.
It is knowledge.
Control.
Secrecy.
And soon—
They will all learn.
That my mind…
Is untouchable.