"How can you sit there and tell me that," Harry demanded. "How am I supposed to prepare for the war if I don't even know what's happening?"
"You're not," the old wizard deadpanned.
That stopped Harry dead in his tracks. "What? But the prophecy…."
"The prophecy says that you must one day face Voldemort," he interrupted gravely. "But you are sixteen years old, Harry, a student. You are nowhere near ready to confront him. For now it would be best if you enjoy your last two years here at Hogwarts before worrying about your role in the war."
"How am I supposed to just sit back and do nothing when I know that I'm the only one who can stop him?" Harry challenged.
"I will not even consider including you in Order business until you have graduated, and even then I am reluctant to include one so young. Fred and George Weasley have been pleading their cases ever since they left the school last Spring, but they have yet to be inducted into the Order. You are all too young to be putting yourselves on the front lines." His voice was tired but forceful.
"I'm not asking you to send me out on missions," Harry amended. "But don't you think I should at least know what's going on. How am I supposed to make any decisions if I don't have all the information I need?"
"Any decisions you have to make regarding Voldemort should not be made on your own, Harry," Dumbledore intoned. "We are all here to help you."
"And where were you all last June when I needed you," Harry yelled. "If you had told me the truth back then, the whole mess at the Ministry would have been avoided and Sirius might still be alive. And now you're repeating your same mistakes all over again."
"Harry, I'm going to have to ask that you calm yourself," Dumbledore replied evenly. "Had you not let your temper get the better of you last year, you would have remembered that Professor Snape was here to help you out. The school always has a member of the Order available should you need one, if only you would remember that. Now, I think it's time we move onto the matter at hand."
"Unbelievable," Harry muttered.
"Professor Snape informs me that you have made some advancements in your Occlumency skills. I would like to test your abilities myself, if that is agreeable to you."
"How can you expect me to be able to trust Snape?" Harry demanded, ignoring Dumbledore's previous statement.
"Professor Snape, Harry," he corrected. "And while he might not always show it, Professor Snape has your best interests at heart. Now, shall we begin?"
An idea formed in Harry's mind as he nodded to the Headmaster. It wasn't something he had really practiced before, but if he could get it to work, it would be worth it.
"Very well," the Headmaster replied. "On my mark. Ready? Legilimens."
And Harry felt the Headmaster probing at his outer barriers. Inside his own mind, he began digging through the trunk housing his memories of Snape. He found all of the Occlumency lessons he had last year as well as the rest of the memories he had of Snape. He took the Occlumency ones first, but ended up grabbing the rest as well.
He felt for the Headmaster's presence and pinpointed exactly where he was outside his barrier. Making up his mind, Harry tore a hole in the barrier directly in front of the old codger and started forcing his memories of Snape through it, beginning with the Occlumency lessons he provided the year before. Once all the memories were through the barrier, he quickly fixed the hole and reinforced the whole barrier.
What seemed like hours later, but was actually only a couple minutes, Harry felt the Headmaster's presence completely vacate his mind. He focused on the man in front of him, who he noticed was slumped in his chair, rubbing at his head. "My best interests?" Harry asked, as he rose from his seat and walked to the door. "Good night, Professor." And that was how he had left the office that night. As he glanced back, the Headmaster had not moved from his position.
That night, Harry had to gather up all of the memories that he had released and store them back in the trunk, which was not a pleasant experience, as it forced him to relive many of them. As he laid in bed, he wondered if maybe he had been too hard on the Headmaster, subjecting him to all of those memories at once. But in the end, he decided that it was necessary. The old man refused to see Snape for what he really was. If that was what it took to give him some perspective, then it was a price he would have to pay.
Harry barely glanced at the Head Table all morning, but when he did, he noticed that the Headmaster's usual joyful demeanor was subdued. The twinkle in his eyes was dimmed, though he did seem to enjoy the show somewhat, much to Professor McGonagall's contempt.
Harry's spirits were lifted considerably after breakfast. That morning he had spent the majority of his workout time with a punching bag, taking out his frustrations. He had planned on resuming the activity after breakfast, but now he was feeling well enough to continue with his usual training.
That afternoon, Professor Caldwell asked him to stay after DADA again. This time, the professor requested Harry's help with some essays he was grading for his second year classes. He had graded a few of the essays complete with comments to give Harry something to go by. Harry told him he would be more than happy to help and asked when he needed them done by. He needed them by Tuesday morning at the latest, which was plenty of time by Harry's standards, so he told the man it wouldn't be a problem.
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