Chapter 43: I yield!

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Hermione looks pensive. "I suppose we could start practicing, but that sounds incredibly difficult to maintain."

"There are a few other ideas I have about it, if you'd like to try some simpler or alternative methods. Of course, I don't know how effective they'll be without someone here to test them."

"Sure, let's hear them."

"Okay, in Harry's case, there is one person in particular he wants to keep out. So he should focus on one particular memory or group of memories that would make that person exceedingly uncomfortable. Force him to watch memories of reuniting with Sirius, of hugging Hermione...memories of happiness and love." If I recall correctly, Harry was actually somewhat successful when he tried that.

Harry blushes when I mention hugging Hermione, but looks thoughtful. "That makes sense..."

"...but it won't keep Dumbledore out," Hermione finishes.

"No, it won't, but I think maybe it will help stop him from getting to what he actually wants. Another I had is focusing on an involved task in your head. For example, play a mental game of chess, or do the commentary on an imaginary game of Quidditch. Something that engages your brain entirely so that no other images or stray thoughts pop in." I learned that one from Atton Rand, only he counted ticks in the Ebon Hawk's engine sequencer or played Pazaak in his head. Thank you, video games.

"That seems like the same kind of thing," Hermione says with a frown. "It seems like it would be really difficult to maintain unless you can ignore when somebody talks to you."

"Maybe that's the next step after clearing your mind: being able to brush off what anybody says; being able to maintain that void no matter what." I cock my head back at my words as a thought strikes me.

Hermione sees it, too. "What did you just think of?"

"Another thing to try. It's similar, but actually, I think this might be better than either of those. Do you guys want to try it now?"

"Yes," Harry says immediately, sitting up. A glance at Hermione is returned with a nod.

"Okay, close your eyes, and picture utter blackness. A void. Nothingness..." I pause and follow my own instructions. 

"Now picture a flame right in the center; only a flame – there are no shadows, no surroundings – only a flame in the darkness. Now, feed your emotions into it. All of your fear, all of your anger, all of your sadness...feed it to the flame. The fire grows with each emotion you put into it. Push them all in, all your embarrassment, your happiness, your envy, your love. The flame diminishes as each emotion is consumed. Keep pushing them in, your nervousness, your eagerness, and let the fire burn them away and shrink back into nothingness."

After several minutes of silence, I open my eyes to find Hermione peering back at me with a blank expression, and Harry still with his eyes closed. 

I give Hermione a wink, which is apparently the wrong thing to do. I try to lift my finger to my lips, but it's not quick enough to stop her from making a sound that catches Harry's attention.

"What was that?" Harry asks in a blank voice.

"That was the Flame and the Void," I answered, knowing that wasn't what he was asking. Idly I try to remember if that exercise is courtesy of Tam Al'Thor or Lan Mandragoran.

Harry frowns. "Do you think it'll work?"

"I don't know," I say honestly, "but I don't think it'll hurt."

"It seems like Muggle meditation," Hermione says, then shoots me a dirty look for changing the subject. "At least that's something we can study."

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Unfortunately sleep must not have come easy to them that night after speaking to Dumbledore, because the mood turned somber once again the next day. 

The one positive sign is that Hermione doesn't seem to be looking at me too suspiciously anymore. She's probably still going to try and figure out my story, but it appears she's too upset with Harry's situation to push it right now.

"Maybe Dumbledore was right," Hermione whispers, looking askance at Harry. The poor kid sat with a book in his lap, staring straight through it with baggy eyes.

"Harry," I say firmly. His head jerks up and his eyes come into focus. "Was Dumbledore right, keeping that information from you?" He furrows his brows, as if he's thinking about it. This annoys me. "If so, let's just call up an Obliviator. Is that what you want?"

I look directly at Harry when I say that and find the anger I was looking for. "William," Hermione hisses.

"No, Hermione. I told him because he needed to know." I hold up my hand to stave off the inevitable retort. "No, I know you both pushed for it, but short of Legilimency, you could not have made me tell. Now, we all know how uncertain prophecy is. It might be fulfilled tomorrow, or it could happen fifty years from now. We just...don't...know. So for the moment we need to get our heads out of our asses and prepare ourselves for it."

Harry is taken aback. "You...you guys don't have to—"

"Stop! Not another word, Harry. Tell me, what would you do if I threatened Hermione?"

"Y-you wouldn't—"

In response I stand up and walk across the room, spin around with an arm up. I focus on pulling out a trickle of magic, and a light green mist begins to coalesce in front of my palm. "You know this light, Harry," I say in a menacing voice.

Hermione goes deathly pale at my hard look, and like lightning Harry jumps in front of her with his wand out. The green light quickly expands into a shield just before a massive Stunner slams into it. My magic rushes to counter the force of it, and I drop to my hands and knees with the exertion.

"I yield! I yield!"

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