I Already Learnt it
Through the haze, he vaguely registered Blake standing up, the boy's footsteps echoing as he moved around him. Then, Snape felt something cold being poured into his mouth.
The liquid jolted him, startling him into a weak attempt to resist, though his limbs barely responded. His body refused to obey him. Panic flared in his chest—was Blake trying to him? Was this some dark twisted plan the boy came up with?
But just as the thought formed, Snape began to feel his strength return, as though life were flooding back into his limbs. His vision, once blurred, slowly became clearer, the shadows of the room sharpening into focus.
Snape struggled to sit up, his breath heavy, and saw Blake standing calmly in front of him. His voice was soft, almost apologetic, as he spoke.
"Sorry, Professor Snape, I didn't mean to do it. You touched a part of me… something I don't fully understand yet, something powerful. It reacted."
Snape pushed himself fully to his feet, his legs still unsteady beneath him. His mouth tasted bitter, and he grimaced. The boy had given him a mind-restoring potion, a common enough concoction designed to revive those who had fainted.
Nothing dangerous, nothing malicious, just an ordinary potion. But Snape wasn't interested in the potion or its effects right now. His mind was swirling with far more pressing concerns.
"What did you see?" Snape's voice was as cold as ice, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion and fear. He wasn't sure he wanted the answer, but he had to know.
Blake hesitated, his expression genuinely remorseful. "I didn't mean to, but... I saw everything. Your memories… all of it."
Snape's face drained of colour, the blood rushing from his cheeks. A storm of rage, humiliation, and fear surged within him, and without thinking, he lashed out.
"Get out!" he snarled, pointing furiously toward the door.
His heart was racing, and he felt his control slipping, his carefully constructed walls of secrecy crumbling under the weight of Blake's unintended intrusion.
[Ding! Extreme anger detected!]
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for getting a diamond treasure chest!]
Blake, sensing the rising tension and knowing he had crossed a line, didn't argue. Without a word, he turned and left the room, the echo of his footsteps fading into the distance.
As soon as the door slammed shut, Snape felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He leaned heavily against his desk, his hands gripping the edges as though to anchor himself. His mind was spinning, a maelstrom of unwanted memories and painful recollections. Lily.
It had always come back to Lily. The boy had seen it all—his deepest, darkest secrets, the moments of his life he had fought so hard to bury, to forget.
Snape clenched his jaw, his nails digging into the wood of his desk. Lily's face floated before his mind's eye, her laughter, her kindness, the moment it had all gone so horribly wrong.
That one word—"Mudblood"—that had destroyed everything. He had spent years punishing himself for that word, for that terrible mistake. But now, Blake had seen it too, witnessed the raw wound that still festered in his soul.
Meanwhile, as Blake walked away from the dungeon, he couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for Snape. He had seen too much, more than he had ever intended to.
"What a poor man," Blake muttered under his breath. "He still thinks that Lily left him because of that one word… 'Mudblood.' He's convinced that was the only reason. But it wasn't."
Blake knew, having glimpsed deeper into Snape's memories, that the real reason for their parting had been far more complex. Their values, their paths in life—they had grown too different.
Even without that fateful argument, they would have eventually drifted apart. Snape was clinging to a single moment, a single mistake, but it had been inevitable.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Dumbledore standing near the entrance to the Great Hall, purchasing something from his convenience store.
The headmaster was in his usual cheerful demeanour, casually ordering a cup of milk tea with extra sugar, much to Beck's flustered excitement.
As the house-elf added pearls to the drink, Dumbledore glanced up and noticed Blake approaching.
"Ah, Blake," Dumbledore greeted him warmly, "I heard from Severus that you were to begin your lessons today. Finished so soon?"
Blake hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well… there was a bit of an issue, Professor. I might have messed things up again."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, though his expression remained calm. "Oh? What did you do to Severus?"
Blake sighed. "It wasn't on purpose, I swear. When he used Legilimency to train me, his consciousness got too close to… something in me. My magic. It pushed him out, and I accidentally saw… a lot more than I should have." Blake shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his actions.
"I don't think he'll want to see me anytime soon."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his face thoughtful. "It's not your fault, Blake. Severus has… complicated memories, and it seems you inadvertently touched upon something very personal to him." He paused for a moment, then added with a sigh,
"I suppose I shall have to take over your training for now."
"Um... Actually, I've learned Occlumency," Blake said, his tone uncertain, as if revealing something he wasn't entirely sure of himself.
Dumbledore stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face Blake. His eyes narrowed with curiosity. "That fast?" he asked, disbelief evident in his voice.
Blake nodded. "Yeah, it happened after Snape's consciousness was knocked away by that magical power."
Dumbledore studied Blake carefully, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he locked eyes with the boy, silently testing his claim. Blake held Dumbledore's gaze with an unflinching stare. To Dumbledore's surprise, he couldn't discern any trace of emotion in Blake's eyes. They were completely unreadable.
For anyone else, Dumbledore usually needed only a glance, and even without using Legilimency, he could tell whether they were lying or hiding something. But now, even with a slight application of Legilimency, he found nothing—no emotions, no thoughts leaking through. It was as if Blake's mind had become a perfectly sealed vault.
Dumbledore's surprise was evident as he let out a slow breath. "It seems that you have indeed mastered Occlumency," he said, impressed. "And so quickly... This is rare."
Blake shifted uneasily, unsure if this was praise or something else. "I, um, didn't really try to learn it. It just... happened."
Dumbledore smiled softly, though his mind was racing with thoughts of what this could mean. "Occlumency is one of the most difficult magical arts to master. The fact that you've done so, especially in such a short time, is extraordinary." He took a step back, reassessing Blake's potential. "Now that you've managed the hardest part, the practice from here on will be much easier."
Blake furrowed his brow. "Practice? What's the next stage?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment, thinking over how best to explain. "Occlumency is about more than just shielding your mind from invasion, Blake. It's also about control—over your emotions, your reactions, even your thoughts. It's a defense, but also a tool for clarity." He gestured for Blake to follow him as they walked deeper into the passage beneath the Whomping Willow.
"You've achieved what many wizards spend years trying to grasp," Dumbledore continued. "But now, you'll need to refine it. It's one thing to block out intruders like myself or Severus. It's another to maintain that control under stress, under pressure... even when you're feeling strong emotions."
Blake nodded slowly, trying to absorb the implications of what Dumbledore was saying. It seemed he had a lot more to learn about this newfound ability. "And how do I do that?" he asked, still puzzled.
"By understanding yourself better, for one," Dumbledore replied. "It may sound simple, but true mastery of Occlumency requires not just magical skill but a deep connection with your own mind. You must understand your own fears, your desires, and be able to control them. Only then can you fully harness the power you've discovered."
Blake wasn't entirely sure how to respond. He had always thought Occlumency was just about keeping people out of his mind. But now, Dumbledore was suggesting it was something much deeper. Something personal.
"And that's the next stage?" Blake asked, his voice cautious.
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. Just follow me."
Dumbledore smiled faintly and gestured for Blake to follow him. He led Blake out of the Great Hall and into the open air. The sun had begun to dip toward the horizon, casting a golden glow over the castle grounds. Most of the students were away in Hogsmeade, leaving the grounds quiet and peaceful.
As they walked, Blake noticed they were heading toward the Whomping Willow. He immediately recognized where Dumbledore was leading him—to the Shrieking Shack, a place of secrecy and isolation. It made sense. No one would disturb them there.
Dumbledore paused a short distance from the violent, swaying branches of the Whomping Willow. With a flick of his wand, he sent a small stone flying toward a particular spot on the trunk. The moment the stone hit, the tree froze, its deadly limbs stilled.
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