A fire burning low in the grate warmed the office that sat atop the short staircase at one end of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom. The fire drew in cool air beneath the door, and moving away from it, only made one displeased of the temperature difference.

Ignan Storm rubbed at his leg absentmindedly as he folded over yesterday's paper. He had been re-reading the story about the disappearances when Casey had arrived. The colder weather made his leg ache from an old injury and the first signs of his limp were beginning to reach his walk that evening on returning to his office after evening meal. The warmth from the fire gave comfort that it could be alleviated before he became too stiff, and it also gave the office a rather more soporific atmosphere than usual.

"Not the best of news to read." He informed the fourth year, gesturing to the paper as he placed to one side of the desk. The familiar pensieve sat on the other, giving off its unusual, watery light, and containing a set of memories from the Professor which he didn't want to risk sharing with Casey if they had a collision during their session that evening.

He got to his feet, straightening out his waistcoat as he did, and stepped towards the sink.
"How have things been since we last met?" The Professor asked, his voice more distant as he turned away to pour a cup of water in advance for the Slytherin.

They had met earlier that day with the rest of the class, but since they met more regularly now, and Professor Storm had become somewhat familiar with a set of childhood memories he often glimpsed during his attempts to break into O'Doherty's mind, he occasionally took a moment to enquire out of politeness.

Casey appeared withdrawn, moody rather than timid. His outright refusal to authenticate the day's events did nothing to change the reality of it. This was when a unique thought entered his head. How to abscond away with Dingy, what should by his might be Casey's, and mother and ditch the rest of the family. It was a very difficult thing to conceptualize as he was not even close to becoming of age and the wizarding world was small. It was only by virtue that his family denied Darla's existence that she could hide in Hogsmeade. The family scion could not disappear as easily, especially if he still had to attend school.

Professor Storm's comment on the paper was an unexpected pleasantry. Casey found reading the headline upside-down to be a moment of welcome distraction, even though he never read the paper. Not regularly, Casey picked up on current events by word of mouth before seeking out the right periodical. And he paid even less attention to foreign affairs, the family rarely looked outside the borders of UK on business. Still, a diplomatic team dead or missing. Either few on the team were competent in Defense or the Black Forest was that much deadlier than their Forbidden one.

Casey contemplated how to define his progression. He was learning gradually with Occlumency but today's 'interruption' threatened to destroy what control of his temper he had managed.

It was inevitable that Casey would loose memories to Storm, events of the past revealed past his mental defenses. However Casey had excelled at pinpointing which memories he found most damaging, an important skill, though at this point the best security for those was in his own pensieve that mirror the one on the Professor's desk. That left scattered impressions of Casey's childhood at Doherty Manor: family melodrama tied to spending and cheating on spouses, trading gossip, lessons and early training with the family wand before school age. Not that underage magic of that kind would come to haunt him now that he was a student. If anything, the impressions explained his accelerated knowledge of wand magic. It painted Casey as a lonely but determined child and very self dependent, even if he had the safety net of a devoted house elf and a budget to rival a ministry department that he could write off as 'allowance.'

"My father..." Casey began with an icy cold tone, "is vexatious. Everyone is. My grandfather abrogated my permission to use the ancestral wand at school." And given Casey's further conduct, he had no option for a replacement unless his Head of House Mr. Morgan was able to request a weekend excursion to outfit Casey with a new wand.

"My father... is vexatious. Everyone is. My grandfather abrogated my permission to use the ancestral wand at school."

Professor Storm's mouth formed an 'oh' expression, hidden from Casey as his back was turned at that moment, he raised his eyebrows a the choice of vocabulary for a fourth year, then again O'Doherty had never yet been part of a stereotype.

"That is an inconvenience." The Deputy Headmaster sympathised in a tone that wasn't scathing, but didn't express huge empathy either, a hint that he thought the disarming might actually be a suitably challenging predicament for the boy. He only hoped he didn't get to hear O'Doherty whine too much about it. Thank Merlin it was the weekend tomorrow.

He leaned a little over Casey's shoulder, his academic robes rustling softly as he reached over to place the glass of water down, and his shirt sleeve tugged back a little on his arm to reveal the more recent scar of the splinching he'd experienced the previous academic year. Noticing as he released the glass with his fingertips, he frowned and made a point of adjusting the shirt cuff. Seeing it reminded him of a mistake, however pleased he was really to know that Noriko Wakahisa had successfully achieved the task at the time.

"Will your family be sending you a replacement for next week?" Ignan asked, now at the other side of the desk, settling into his familiar chair. He'd lost a few wands for various reasons in his lifetime, but he'd never had a borrowed wand from a family member who could demand it back at any time. Using someone else's didn't appeal to him, he and Azorma had stolen enough as trophies, and he'd tried them out just to see. It was like wearing someone else's ill-fitting clothes.

"Small consolation that it won't be required tonight." He pondered, aloud. In a reverse situation, he would not have proceeded with the lesson without a wand in his own hand - there would have been no easy way to extract the memories the student should not, ever witness.

Inconvenience was hardly a substantial explanation but it was a sad truth. There was one possible work around Casey could see and that was to learn wandless magic. But that would be too much to chew even for the Slytherin who routinely worked past what would be safe physical limitations.

His eyes briefly darted to note Professor Storm's scar before it was hidden away with the sleeve. A splinching, of all things, that left a scar on the war wizard. A sign of battle damage but also Storm's resilience. Casey hated the concept of pain and injury as much as the next student but he wanted to prove that he could work past it. Any detrimental aspect of his health.

"There was one replacement but let's say it was...incapatabile to my capabilities." As in, his father's wand had been cracked from the power of Casey's spell. "No other one will be lent. Grandfather is paranoid about the souring relations with the goblins. Buying a new one is of no great cost but scheduling the time to do so seems to be left on my end."

"Before we continue, professor," Casey began, "I have a question topical to this training. A hypothetical situation, if you will, that would better my understanding." He wasn't doing this solely for Alvis Norling's benefit, Casey first wanted to source out a second opinion before he even considered how to proceed with the dangerously spacey Ravenclaw.

"There was one replacement but let's say it was…incompatible to my capabilities. No other one will be lent. Grandfather is paranoid about the souring relations with the goblins. Buying a new one is of no great cost but scheduling the time to do so seems to be left on my end."

The Professor raised an eyebrow in silent query as to the statement. Normally one would say it just didn't suit the wizard, not that the wand wasn't capable of carrying out the owner's wants.

"I trust you will organise one before Monday morning lessons." He replied simply, an ultimatum, not showing any sympathy about how the parents were treating O'Doherty.

"Before we continue, professor, I have a question topical to this training. A hypothetical situation, if you will, that would better my understanding."

"Oh?" The Professor replied, his tone genuinely interested this time. "Explain this 'hypothetical' situation then." Casey asked questions along the way, but mostly they were entirely posed to better his skills, rather than hypothetical situations. The Professor put aside his wand and gave Casey his full attention.

Casey needed no prompting to get a wand. If he could he would scheme a way to get his proper wand back but there was no solutions conceivable at this time.

He ran two fingers along his hairline, a pause to get his thoughts in order. He had devised the question to avoid the suggestion of another his age with outstanding ability into magic of the mind. "They say Potter tried and failed with Occlumency because of a connection he shared with the Dark Lord. But they could peer into each others minds. Is it possible, then, for circumstances to allow somebody to have surprising aptitude for Occlumency or Legilimency without formal training in the skill?"

The Professor considered the query a moment, eyes gazing in the rough direction of the sink behind and to one side of Casey.

"Potter and Voldemort shared a unique link of Horcrux and master, O'Doherty. That didn't require occlumency or legilimency. Because Potter was a sentient being, he was able to use the link in reverse - originally he is reported to only experience this when The Dark Lord showed strong emotion, but as Voldermort grew in power, the link became far stronger. It is also believed that Potter's ability to speak Parseltongue was purely based on his link with Voldemort, giving him a temporary inheritance of one of Voldemort's skills. Subsequently, in that situation, he might also have been given Voldemort's skills of legilimency, but it seems unlikely, and certainly not mentioned that Potter could use it against another."[1]

He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully.
"Divination, seer's talents are very similar to legilimency skills, but in a different perspective of events about to happen." His features momentarily twitched into a smirk, "I am not an expert in the finer details, O'Doherty, Griers of Beauxbatons has had the time to research, and would have a more reasoned response to your question."

1.

Wiki

Well, that answered some things. Casey highly doubted Norling had been made into a horcrux. It wasn't the same as the phenomena Potter and the Dark Lord had and yet...Casey couldn't help but think that there had to be something screwy with Norling's brain to explain his aptitude. It couldn't be anything between Casey and him, not even because of their brief body switch because this was an ability manifest long before the swap, when Casey first felt the reach of Norling's mind that evening in the castle armory.

Still, the response reinforced one thing: to speak of the speculative nature of the mind was to seek out the frenchman Belgian, which was where Casey had pointed Alvis as a courtesy. Te Ravenclaw should consider himself lucky.

"Thank you anyway, sir, just thinking hypothetically." He swallowed a breath of air in preparation. "I'm ready to begin."

Casey was easily satisfied it seemed.

"Perhaps pose the question to Griers. I'd be interested if he had more insight, actually." The Professor replied, and picked up his wand, the wood sliding across the desktop gently as he did.

"Well then." He sat forward, and gave no further warning before he launched a mental attack.

Today, Ignan could feel Casey's anger wash over him like a strong current as he attempted to break into the boy's mind. He didn't fancy being at the end of the anger - though at the age Casey was, it wan't as if Ignan couldn't hex him round the ear successfully if he was his own son. Thank Merlin Casey wasn't... and he hadn't been around to do it to his own anyhow.

Casey's thoughts were churning, but his anger had tinges of family over it - even if he hadn't told his Professor what had been on his mind, he could have gleaned something from what he could sense at that moment.

You're making this too easy He teased with his mind's voice.

It was, of course, the familiar quick entry into his mind whenever Storm launched an attack immediately after speaking. And of course Casey had been right to expect that he was dangerously distracted. His resentment at loosing access to the family wand became all of his attention, and with it the further resentments and frustrations and anger at every annoying thing his family did, right down to the--

No, not there.

And then he could hear Storm's voice in a mental echo with slight condescending tone. You're making this far to easy.

That only made Casey more angry. He had put forth some serious effort into the skill over the last view sessions and today his barriers felt weak, non-existent. Confound it, how much was he expected to lose? The wand, the mental defenses, the time he'd almost lost himself that day when the colored powder hit all the house tables at breakfast...

Out! Out out out out out!

Casey's mind was swimming. Not really but there were memories of water. The lake, portable swamps in the hall when fresh Tagger paint still hung in the air. Each time his mind's eye took a plunge it was to flush his mind, sense the strength of Storm's influence and try to wash him away.

He expected easy? They all thought it would be easy. A simple change like turning a spell on and off. Well no, it wasn't easy, Casey didn't even understand it before and after being ripped in two. And if anyone thought he would give up at easy; hell no, both sides had been struggling on their own, so even though it couldn't be explained with words Casey had double the resolve of anyone else. So he wasn't going to let Storm stay in for as long as he pleased.

Do you think shouting out is going to get me out?

Oh dear, O'Doherty was in an odd frame of mind today, what with his father reclaiming the wand and his irritation. He tried not to let his disappointment show, and in doing so, rather let his curiosity get the better of him. He tried to direct Casey's thoughts towards whether the boy had done that week's homework for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

The boy might let him out of desperation, pleased he wasn't interested in all things watery, as they seemed to be sharing so far. Then again, he might fight. It was that, or irritate the hell out of Casey by trying to find out if he'd any romantic ties - that was another option to consider. He suspected O'Doherty wasn't at that stage yet, despite his classmates - Torret and Norling pairing off. Unless, there was something going on between him and Pepper. What a thought...

Merlin - Ignan realised that his thoughts might have flavoured the interest in the Defence homework completion in Casey's mind - and had drifted towards the thoughts of his classmates. Even he wasn't as focused as he should have been at that moment.

Casey had forgotten Storm could hear the things during these sessions, for lack of a better word. He was not merely shouting at Storm but the desired effect had not been achieved. He was putting some effort in to rebuff with each internal rally but they were all too weak. Damnation!

There was the 13 inch essay due Monday, Casey's hand finishing the last words when he finished it over the weekend in advance. Blazes! A suggestion from Storm that had readily come! If each of Storm's quires were met...

Each...

He could feel Storm taking time to pick apart just what to bring up in suggestion in a rare moment of indecision for the Defense Professor. Romantic? Torret? Norling? Pepper?? What in the Founders of Hogwarts did Storm expect to find using that as search criteria?

That brought up an old fantasy about punching Pepper in the face.[1] And the moment this fictitious Casey punched an imagined Pepper everything...blanked. As if everything to do with Ambrose Pepper had been punted from Casey's mind at the present. Before the probe regressed back to Norling or Zoe Casey attempted to lock down all thoughts about them as well.

It was then he realized that Storm was not being specific on what he was looking for. It was that indecisiveness, the meandering nature the the probe. Was the Professor...confused? That was too much to hope for. Although Casey was somehow bewildering the Defense professor's advancements. One memory unrelated to Storm's questing did surface, one from several Occlumency sessions ago[2] when Storm had told him something after a method that had almost worked. Focus on what you do want me to see.

Currently that goal was continued bewilderment in an attempt to wear out Storm.

A variety of sensations were brought up and discard as quick as shuffling cards. Exploding pumpkin. Incarcerating a monster book. Foul tasting medicine. Dingy's pot. Ink dribbling from the ceiling. A quaffle almost hitting him in the face. Something bonked into the underwater window of the Slytherin dorm. Peaches. A book falling off a shelf. A quill snapping. Purple tablecloth. Being stretched via jinx. The shudder that came from Side-Along Elf Apparation. Lots of galleons. Toothpicks. The contents of Casey's worn copy of the Defense text. And the next page. And the next page. And the page five pages back and the page after that...

1.	Pick A Patch of Pumpkins - Oct 26
2.	Late Evening Studies of the Mind - Sept 21

Ha!

Good O'Doherty - this is suitably vomit-inducing if I let you.

Casey was throwing everything successfully at him, but his wandering conscious had given enough leeway - with time and practise, Casey would be able to do this and clear it all away too.

Instead, he decided to focus on Casey's father, mentally brushing aside visions of house elves, classmates and that rather amusing imagine of Casey planting is fist in Pepper's face. O'Doherty was attempting to lead him through the Defence textbook by mind, but Ignan refused to focus on it, pushing further and forcing those earlier frustrations about the wand back to the forefront, as if scattering a cluttered desktop to the floor to place Martin O'Doherty right slap-bang in the middle of it for questioning.

He's taken your wand, you're irritated at the control, you'll tell me more about your father.

The scrambling of finding several different kinds stimili to throw of Storm barely held. Casey could hear the professor talking in his mind again, as close as a whisper behind the ear. The intent as commanding as an Imperius.

He's taken your wand, you're irritated at the control, you'll tell me more about your father.

The words might also be indicative of Casey's current circumstances. He felt no control at the reciving end of Storm's probing legilimency, nothing he could do as words that were associated with his father rang into being just like they had echoed through the floors of Doherty Manor.

"CASEY CAN BE...!

---

And there was a break. The information and assoicated memory of the Changeover[1] was somewhere in Casey's mind but split off from the realm of the mind Professor Storm could access during his probing.

All of it across an insurmountable gap. What would that actually look like?

There was just time for that question. And a brief feeling of relief. But there was still the compelling, searching probe from Porfessor Storm that couldn't be retictfied.

Well, I'm picking the damn memory...

---

And the scene that was presented took form, wisps of memory weaving into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters...[2]

1.	link
2.	For Occlumency purposes, stuff that's been sectioned off with line breaks can't be discovered by the opposing Legilimens. The 'divide' in Casey's mind is reflective of how his consciousness was split in two during Body Swap Day - Nov 6

((OOC: Martin is not actually present in the classroom scene, but is present in Casey's memory))

...there is a small amount of clatter across the hidden magical train platform at King's Cross station. Steam drifts along the platform from the Hogwarts Express being primed. It is long before the train will depart. Few people are about.

A reedy thin man with oiled hair and an even part stands next to a boy. The boy shows signs of being made to look presentable but is too small, turtle-like, in his school uniform and unsorted house tie.

"You will have endure the entire train ride," Martin says to Casey. "Everyone must travel to Hogwarts the same way. You have your medicines for motion sickness. The train will arrive in the early evening. There's the boat crossing for first years before the Sorting--"

"I know already," Casey says, an irritated whine in his voice.

Martin frowns and continues, as if bond to reiterate a memorized itinerary. "The elf will be there to get you settled. At this point I can officially present you with this."

Martin opens his case. His hand retrieves the wand that built the O'Doherty family fortune, the wand of polished and unornamented Hornbeam with Leprechaun Hair core. Casey's hand is held expectantly, the palm poking out of his sleeve. Martin pauses in passing the wand. He just stares at it.

"Grandfather gave me the permission to use the wand at school," Casey reminds his father to hurry up the formalities.

Martin's gaze looks down to Casey with a scrutinizing look. "You'll find, my child, that inherited wands have very different personalities than ones new off the shelf. This wand has known many hands and it may not like being paced to low grade spell education again."

The wand is reluctantly passed to Casey, whose fingers wrap around the handle with a practiced hold for casting spells. "True." He looks up at Martin with a smirk. A dimple forms on one cheek. "Still, they say the wand chooses the wizard, isn't it? It can't be helped if the wand never chose you."

Martin's look grows cold. "Remember that the wand is merely being loaned to you, Casey." Martin turns to depart through the barrier back to Platforms 9 and 10 with parting words. "As you're so capable to handle the rest of today by yourself."

Yes I am, Casey thinks...


And with a pang like a headache itching Casey's skull, the memory faded as his senses returned to the reality of the Defense Professor's office.