September was drifting away, and the evening light was vanishing ever quicker as October approached. Tucked away in the First floor, Professor Storm and fourth year Slytherin, Casey O'Doherty were deep in thought. Between them both, on the Professor's desk was a pensieve, which shimmered and gave off an ethereal light as memories swirled within it.

Since Casey's initial proposition in May, as a third year, his Defences Professor had been given time to consider. At first he had encouraged Casey to go away and get his affairs in order for a more general reason, concerned that the Slytherin wanted to learn occlumency for entirely incorrect reasons. He had not doubted O'Doherty's abilities to take on the theories and practise, but had initially been concerned for the motives and the young man's age. Teenagers had decidedly distracted minds, often at no fault of their own.

Pleasingly, O'Doherty had returned and now met with him on a late evening when the majority of students were not at all interested in irritating their Professor. As it happened, he was sure to lock the door after Casey's arrival, and extinguish the candles in the classroom a while before then to discourage passing queries.

"Have you found it easier to clear your mind lately, now it has become habit?" The Professor asked, sat back in his chair opposite Casey, and smirked, "Undoubtedly History of Magic lessons with Professor Jowd provides ample extra time to practise."

Pushing the pensieve aside so that they could regard each other a little better, Professor Storm leaned forward and rested his forearms on his desktop, the pensieve lighting his ageing features from below, including a fine line of stubble and a few more lines than the previous academic year.
"We shall resume practise of repelling obvious intrusions, if you are ready?" He raised an eyebrow, pausing for confirmation before he would raise his wand to Casey. 

Casey had expected this training to never come to fruition once Professor Storm had taken Deputy Head duties. Strangely, Storm appeared much more acceptable to the extra lessons once the new year began. Almost as if he was working to prove he could make Hogwarts better with the delegation of Durmstrang visiting.

"I have," Casey replied. When his recessing anger became common Casey took the time to forget all he could about things. And there were some things he had 'forgotten' for tonight. Seeing the pensieve Storm had brought reminded Casey of...only a vague silveriness that ment those memories were safely away in his own pensieve.

"Though Jowd is loud." Annoyingly so. "And he paces about the classroom as he talks looking to see people are paying attention." Austerlitz had been strict, yes, but she had the decency of lecturing from one spot. Why should this goofball be able to make such demands? Obviously Jowd was not going to be a professor Casey would readily respect like the counselor Maiko wanted him to. Professor Storm was a different story. While Casey didn't believe Storm respected his students he did recognize skill and motivation. In reverse, Casey liked his Durmstrang style of teaching. The visiting students were no less than what Casey had thought of them. Unlike new History of Magic professors. Casey could no longer use the time to study his Invisible Book of Invisibility because of the frequency he needed to vanish it when Jowd passed his table.

"I'm ready." Casey willed his mind to remain blank. Not to think of anything as he gripped his wand on his lap for support. The purpose was to build mental resistance so there was no real spell to use in retaliation.

The spell would come at any moment.

"Legilimens!"

Professor Storm's thoughts sought out his student's, now coming to anticipate the swirl of thoughts of school and classmates and other things he didn't share experiences of.

Each lesson Casey made progress, though last lesson Ignan had noted Casey tiring, his efforts to repel the obvious intrusion reaching a peak and declining. At that point he had called a halt, recognising the young man's perfectionist tendencies would make him want to continue. Aware of Casey's age, he did not want to draw too much attention to these meetings - usually the older students received this guidance, not fourth years. Also, his own father drilling him to exhaustion in occlumency at Durmstrang had not expedited his learning either.

Good, Casey was resisting, though he had a very obvious announcement of an attack. A little more pressure... this would have given him a headache before summer where he had practised to bring his skills back. Now he pushed past Casey's mental defences. As a beginner, this would continue until he became stronger.

Then, in, and the memories focused.

OOC: Do elaborate on what memory they are seeing

"Legilimens!"

Casey had gotten to the point where his mind had an instant barrier before the spell came. Having his mind blanked of certain memories before the session, he had the time to use those missing memories as a distraction as he blocked the rest of his mind. Things that weren't clear, fading to mist when glimpsed...

...like Vulpes across the way in the train compartment...

...standing in a line along Diagon Alley (that had been the night at Spellpunks)...

...unfolding the picture in the St. Mungo's room...


Suddenly the memories were vivid, complete, oh no he had forgotten something...!

. . . there is a tea table set out in a sunny garden in front of a manor (though one section is blighted weeds, irredeemable land). Tea is set for three but there are only two at the table. But there is a puny house elf in oversized sackcloth dressings, a large bump protruding from his head as he tries to balance a tea tray. The oldest at the table is a woman in tightly wrapped shawls. She looks very weak but smiles at the child across the table; there is a girl with strawberry blond hair, a white dress, and flowers arranged in a chain . . .

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Casey needed to change the scene, he had forgotten about that and he couldn't let it be known...

. . . a boy sitting on a bed, in stiff overalls, the house elf clutching at its pot as the fire roared, flames licking the ceiling . . .

Casey gasped. Professor Storm's office came back into full view. Reality. His head dearly wanted to slam against the desk but Casey managed to hold his composure.

Negotiating another's memories could be worse than negotiating storms at sea where the rocking failed to relent churning your stomach. Legilimency did it to your own mind.

Casey's memories shot round him, he was hasty to try and clear up traces, though he still saw Slytherin classmates, Diagon Alley, unfolding something, and then like hitting water from a dive, they were pulled straight into a vivid memory.

Birdsong, sunlight and warmth, a large home, and a tea table. The memory spun to a standstill, and Ignan noted the table set out, and two seated - an elderly looking woman and a girl in a white dress with flowers around her throat. Between them a house elf tottered with the tea tray.

The violent reaction from Casey shot them into another memory of a bed, flames, and the house elf again.

Professor Storm raised his wand and released them both, inhaling and sitting back, watching Casey's expression the other side of the desk.

"O'Doherty." The Professor spoke after several seconds of waiting. "How did we end up there?" He hadn't purposely sought out any memories yet, they hadn't got that far. Something had sprung those up without too much direction. Perhaps an incident during the day had triggered the train, brought deeper memories up to the surface recently.

Ascending from his seat, he poured the Slytherin a glass of water from a jug at the side of the room beside a small stone sink. Setting it down on the desk on Casey's side, he settled back down, still examining the boy with a steady expression - eyes almost unblinking.

Casey's head throbbed but his worries were more set to the interruptions of the recent probe then the headache caused from an attempt at Occlumency. Thankful for the water, Casey did most of his thinking during a long draught while the glass obscured his face...very rapid thinking of how to answer Professor Storm's question.

Overinflated and cocky Casey's attitude may be when defined by others, the Slytherin had always felt he might have a natural inclination to Occlumency when he first discovered it. Thus why he would have tried to teach himself through other means if he never got Storm to agree to lessons. Casey's abilities were not good at managing emotion and ego, as recent issues in classes since the start of term where showing him. Also at this stage he was using his own pensieve as a crutch, from self experience and techniques Storm had showed during initial demonstrations with the artifact.

This 'strength' simultaneously served Casey's greatest fear. Occlumency, at high levels, was a practice of maintaining a persona. Something Casey knew from the radical shift in his upbringing by his grandparents. It was eerily how the practice that had been instilled had manifested during this exercise, upon private reflection. When being groomed there were mainly two tools: discouraged effeminate actions, praised masculine actions. Casey had been purposefully 'forgetting' as much of his early childhood by removing the memories to his pensieve before these sessions. It had been recognizing something he had missed that must have created the fixation and thereby the full image of that memory around the tea table. Casey had not planned to reveal the action of the bonfire but that had been the first notable instance when a masculine action had been praised, to mask the effeminate one.

All of this unnerved Casey because if the full knowledge was known it was a threat to the existence of 'him.'

But what of an outside view? Storm had experienced the full memories but did not have the context. Hopefully. His query as to why Casey had revealed memories when the exercise had been to suppress them was merely one of the instructor. Casey strived to keep it that way.

"I had been reminded of something," he began using carefully chosen words, "uncomfortable and I unintentionally tried to distract  from that with another memory, although I could only grasp for something random and dramatic." In truth this had been the process, no denying that. But as Casey listened to himself speak the words he knew they betrayed no motive. It had been images, nothing substantial that explained anything.

Casey was winded but he breathed through his nose, causing his nostrils to flare in sniffs.

"Reminded of something?" The Professor questioned calmly. "I had not even reached the point of influencing the direction or exposure of your memories yet."

Ignan Storm laced his fingers together, and rested his elbows on his chair arms and studied Casey thoughtfully. He was keen to ensure O'Doherty learned at the speed he hungered for, but not so fast the foundations of the discipline were undermined. At the very same time, his own curiosity suggested he continue regardless, but only for his own rather selfish benefit of holding knowledge.

No, to do such a thing would be an abuse of trust, and if he wanted to discover such things, he could just seek them out with legilmency at that very moment. Casey was clearly not ready for pressure to be put on his mind yet, and it would so easily bend to his will.

He realised he had been staring intently (and with slice malice) towards the Slytherin for a dozen seconds or more and blinked, inhaling and giving a little sigh.
"I do not doubt your practise, nor your capabilities, O'Doherty. I am rather more concerned of your physical limits - which, are you may not believe, are linked to the defence of your mind." Professor Storm leaned a little forward and held out his hands as if to show balance as he explained:
"A healthy and strong mind is linked to the same state of the body. Yes, intelligence counts for much, but the natural strength and resilience of a mind - and also the stamina of the body itself is still somewhat dictated by the overall health. This, you are undoubtedly frustrated to discover could be the weakness in your abilities and the one part that will hinder your progression with occlumency."

The Professor's tone couldn't help but sound disappointed, but not for himself, but for Casey.
"You have my word that we will do all we can." Professor Storm added sincerely. "Do you wish to continue this evening?"

Casey groaned inwardly as Professor Storm revealed he had not put as much pressure behind the legilimency as he had expected. It had been the Slytherin's own doing to reveal those memories, overeaction. What was worse is that the incongruent images, a teatable and a bonfire, left plenty of open suspicions that the Defense Professor may try and examine.

All because Casey had been running ahead before he even knew how to walk, with those metaphorical legs.

Idiot!

But with this shame there was also a prickling sensation running through his veins, enflaming his skin, as Professor Storm talked about his physical limits. Yes, that damn speach, akin to all the variations of the same speeches Casey had heard in previous years. The highlighting of his weaknesses. That he was weak. And being weak was akin to being...

"Once more," Casey said, managing to make it not sound like a demand. "I know what I did wrong."

Casey was determined, he'd give him that.

"Take a moment to clear your mind." He instructed, picking up his wand again and studying the younger man opposite. "Don't think of tea tables, house elves and - oh, see how easy it can be?" No legilmency required on this occasion.

"Clear your thoughts." He instructed again, firmly.

Reading Casey's expression, he raised his wand and for the second time,

"Legilimens!"

Casey flummoxed as he heard Storm confirm that he had witnessed those particular memories. No, stop that the Defense Professor was just trying to catch him off guard. Was that a joke? Did Ignan Storm ever phrase things like a joke?

"Clear your thoughts." Storm raised his wand. Within that moment extended too long to be a real second, there was not thought clearing as there was internal debate.

In which part of Casey thought he had just signed the execution order on the sanctity of his mind.

Don't think like that. Obviously thinking about what you're hiding is only going to draw more attention to it at this point so don't give him a full scene.

Then what? If he's going to see what I'm thinking no matter what I pick...

Use that to defend with. Something disorientating and not visual, an unusual feeling to throw him off.

Like what??

"Legilimens!"

For how cunning you claim to be sometimes you're an idiot. Here...

---

...In the darkness there was the sensation of falling, gyrating gone out of control, net forces of gravity and spinning and the pitch of the body slamming forward to meet the ground. Add to that a distinct queasiness, the moaning rumble of gas in the stomach and sweat down the back. The absolute horrified feeling of being totally outside one's comfort zone. Impact. The thundering din of feet and bass notes, vibrations that added to the feeling of unease. A moment where the senses were screwed up and pushed to their very limits, stimuli never before experienced...

...And when the image finally came to the weaponized feeling of discomfort as the probe reached further, the lights were harsh and unnatural. People, floor, ceiling saturated like a color changing spell gone wrong, any pretense of recognizable form made alien...

---

When the attack ceased and Casey recognized the desk and the defense professor's office once again, he wasn't in the same degree of pain. His head was splitting from the effort of training in Occlumency, after two penetrations, but this time he did not awake with his head slammed against the desk.

Ah, he was trying, desperate not to let it happen again.

Let him be, Ignan decided, and let the mind try to adjust to the intrusion and get a hold on things. He waited patiently a moment as Casey's memory didn't pluck out anything in particular, just a strong emotion of fear. The Slytherin was trying extraordinarily hard to suppress something, but it was almost as if the memory was distorting, damaged, sickened.

It was the same feeling he remembered from performing this on men against their will, and the Professor found Casey's fear influencing his own emotions across the link. It turned to thrill, and he had to withdraw his own wand suddenly to prevent himself being tempted to push Casey too early. No, this is not my business to know. He thought in his mind's voice, and broke the connection.

This time O'Doherty was sat up, and was proving more resilient. There was no nose bleed, or signs of physical trauma caused by the effort, though the Professor did wonder what the Slytherin made of that second attempt. He realised that his own thought might have been heard in the separation.

"Different, certainly." He mused, putting his wand away and sitting back in his chair. "But I got the sense you were still almost showing me something you did not want to. Focus on what you do want me to see," he suggested, "and it you need to begin to come to a decision on what is the worst that can happen if I were to see something while we are training. Contrary to popular belief, I do not wish to know everything about my students."

From the other side of the desk he smirked at Casey. It was the best he could do in reassurance at that moment. Besides, the Slytherin could stomach no more sympathy than he could entertain providing.

"Continue your work to clear your mind, and come to some agreement with the memories you fear being found most. You will see improvement if you keep up your commitment, its not meant to be easy, O'Doherty."

Casey's head was swimming, thoughts slowed like congealed molasses. He did hear what Professor Storm was saying but he couldn't really think about it.

Or maybe he was thinking amazingly fast in one portion of his mind while Casey, insofar as the interface known as Professor Storm's young Occlumency pupil, was dully manifesting the ache associated with such difficult and draining magic.

Had that worked? Storm suggested that the memory was still one he didn't want to share. And part of him didn't want to share it, although in retrospect it was a good strategy, utilizing something disorientating and not visual, an unusual feeling to throw him off. It seemed to have worked. Feedback when it came to Occlumency, as he had studied, was not the same as matching the Legilimens probe for probe and breaking into their mind. But you could recognize what they were thinking behind the probe...

not my business to know

Storm could have pushed further but Casey's resilience, and usual choice of defense had come at a surprise. That image, when paired with the ones flashed tonight, certainly was an odd assortment to expect from a Slytherin student. That must have been what he was curious about before relenting with the use of Legilimency.

Which could mean...

"Yes sir. Thank you." His bed down in the Slytherin dungeon was going to be a welcome comfort, this session concluded. With it the final conclusion of Casey's observations, both from Storm's words said and unsaid during the legilimency probe.

For lack of a better term at this point, Casey was going to call it his Second Thoughts. While Storm could have glimpsed it before that unfamiliar sensation was used to fend off an attack, he didn't appear to have noticed. Or he was not mentioning it at all if he had. The thing was, part of him wanted to reveal that memory only for the disorientating effect it could have against the peering sight of a Legilimens. Yet Storm didn't view it that way, he still suggested that Casey did not want that memory shared. Which, had it been a full rendition of the night at the Spellpunks teen club, would have been just the sort of thing Casey would not want to reveal.

Casey, the interface known as Professor Storm's young Occlumency pupil. The interface others knew as a fourth year Slytherin student. Casey's Second Thoughts were comfortable with the brazen act, willing to focus Storm to see something only the Second Thoughts wanted the professor to see.

At that point Casey knew that his Second Thoughts were where his strength at Occlumency would be.