There was one more day between the staff and students and the Easter holidays. For Ignan Storm, who didn't teach Friday, he had finished a very busy day of teaching, summing up a term's work with the first, third, fifth and seventh years before setting them a whole holiday's worth of homework to keep them out of mischief. Apparently he set a lot of homework in comparison to other Professors, he only hoped it showed in the results of the approaching examinations in the summer term.

On Ignan's desk was a modest pensieve - not the size of the one in the Headmistress's office (which had belonged to Dumbledore he was told) but a smaller one a little bigger than a dinner plate in diameter. It had been nestled in the restricted section of the library, though after Landis and Ignan inspected it, they suspected it was only placed there due to the residual memories left within it.

Ignan had spent the past two nights between marking student work, extracting the rather graphic romantic memories of a Professor in the 1840s it appeared, and putting them into glass phials which would be returned to the restricted section as a precaution. Presumably the memories were going to cause him ridicule, which is why the wizard had decided to do such a thing.

Now it sat swirling softly, Ignan having deposited a fair number of memories into it buried down in the depths of the fog which he needed to be without. The traces would still be in his head, but the clear memories would be in the pensieve and out of harm's way.

Sat across the other side of the desk was Tapendra, who Ignan watched thoughtfully.

"Now, if you've managed to clear your mind each evening as I suggested you practise, you better deposit anything you particularly don't want me to see... such as the thoughts about any jokes you and Georg are going to play on me, into here. If you haven't managed, then, there's little point in starting this evening, to put it bluntly."

He was going to be no kinder to Tapendra than he was any student who persuaded him to teach them something a little off the curriculum, including Tapendra's sister, not that Ignan or Georgiana had yet explicitly explained that to Tapendra.

"Don't get your hopes up, Georg does his plotting on his own," Tapendra replied with a smile. He had indeed been practicing emptying his mind, but had found he was horrible at it. He found it much easier to think on things no probing Auror would understand a word of.

As an odd kind of respect, he'd actually dressed nicely for this...well, this lesson. His black coat now sat draped over the back of his chair.

He drew his wand, pressing the tip to his temple and beginning the work of depositing his unsavory memories. Most of the ones he deposited brought  noticeable flush to his face as he recalled them; most of the things Tapendra didn't want anyone seeing - especially Ignan - involved young ladies with no clothes on.

The last memory he deposited was far more sobering - Judy's death - and he wondered if he could really just..get rid of it like that. It was odd, to not be able to recall it...odd, in that is was rather nice. He could remember remembering it, but the memory of that stomach-dropping sting was gone.

"Um," he said quickly, to get his mind off that train of thought. "With the mind blanking...is it enough to simply think very hard about lots of things that have nothing to do with what an invader would want?"

"No, it is not enough." Ignan replied simply, giving the pensieve a stir with his wand and allowing it to settle with both their memories in which neither wanted the other to see. It was a third person confidant for both - thank Merlin it couldn't speak.

"If you imagine your head is a series of rooms, each full of paintings. You could try to think of certain thoughts in a certain room - your childhood or your studies in astronomy, and certainly I'd see them, but if I actually applied anything towards what I wanted, the shock and alarm of my intrusion would trigger your emotions, and then I could throw open any room I wished." He leaned forward, and propped his forearms on the desktop, the pensieve light underlighting his features.

"For each person, how they achieve the basics of occlumency is different. It depends how emotional you are - whether you express the emotions freely, or are more reserved for instance - a person able to express and share their emotions will always find it difficult to control them. Someone who finds it difficult to express them will be halfway there."

Between the two of them - Ignan was keenly aware Tapendra was able to express his love for his sibling and his daughter, and for his best efforts, it was clear his wife's death was carried heavily on the younger man's shoulders. The closer the two friends became, the easier it was for Ignan to express his own emotions - and share in Tapendra's, but as a person, Ignan was able to compartmentalise his emotions and pack thoughts of people and situations into boxes. He'd found it fiendishly difficult to learn occlumency under his father's direction due to family ties and the fact his father knew him very well. Once he trained with the Ministry in Germany, he mastered it a lot more swiftly. The fact concerned him with Tapendra - as a friend he might not provide the true incentive for the Astronomy Professor to clear his head.

"Besides, if you're being interrogated about Azorma, she's going to be right at the forefront of your mind." Ignan splayed his fingers and tilted his head, as if to say 'go figure'.

"Ah, not thinking of equations right then were you?" He asked Tapendra, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

"I see," he said, shoulders noticeably slumping. "I just find it hard not to think of anything," he said, smiling ruefully. "I find myself thinking about thinking about thinking about thinking and so on..."

He sighed, smile returning in full. "Something like that. Gravitational waves and cosmic strings. You wouldn't understand a word of it," he said, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed loosely over his stomach. "I thought about what you said about emotions and so thought perhaps using that to stay calm and center myself would work. Apparently not." His fingers found his beard and he stroked it thoughtfully.

"You've had more practice hiding your emotions, Ignan; and more practice dealing with an invader. You said it'll incite a lot of...emotional reaction. Is that involuntary, or...?"

"Akin to having someone break and enter your house." Ignan explained, his eyes lowering to the desktop, where he rested his fingertips on the grain. "Depending on how well they enter of course," his gaze returned to Tapendra a moment, "if they do it subtly, you might not realise until its too late, then its shock, feeling of violation, like finding your lover has cheated on you for months without your knowledge." His gaze lowered again and he sighed. "If its by force, Merlin it hurts."

The older Professor sat back in his desk chair and raised his eyes to the ceiling, steepling his fingers.
"Very much like someone hauling out your most personal thoughts and showing them to the world. Anger, sadness, terror, breakdown in any self confidence. Once they're in, your best defence is physically cursing them to force them to break concentration. The most heavy handed of legilmens will destroy memories out of carelessness."

Steal them, rip them apart, modify them and replace them by force, causing nose bleeds, temporary insanity, nightmares...

"Altogether a very unpleasant experience. It is hard to think of nothing when your mind is racing. That's why it takes practise. Once you have it, you can be selective in your thoughts, and keep hold of your emotions. Occlumency has to become a habit. To be a serious practitioner, one must be more committed to it than a woman!" Ignan chuckled.

Tapendra gulped, subtly, his blue eyes going wide for a moment as Ignan described it. He looked down at his folded hands, frowning in thought. Ignan spoke in such a way Tapendra had a feeling he was speaking from experience, not just from the textbook description, but - no, now wasn't the time to ask. His curiosity wasn't going to get the better of him, not tonight. That could wait.

"I suppose the best way to show me is to literally show me, isn't it?" He said, looking up again. "Though I'd rather you didn't come busting through the front door, if you'll forgive the extended metaphor." He stood, resting his hands on the the desk. "Unless you know there's a better way?"

"Not really." Ignan shrugged, and without any warning, had wand in hand.

"Legilmens"

When Tapendra had spoken of cycling thoughts he was so very correct. How on earth he could think straight, Ignan wasn't sure. Memories shot past him of Cyhirae, Georgiana, a blonde woman who was reminiscent of Cyhirae, and a sickening feeling of joy, which turned very quickly as Tapendra's conscience realised what was happening.

The thoughts of the woman turned more frequent mixed with other women including their colleague and Arithmancy professor, which span and pitched in tone and mood, and then a flock of thoughts about equations and mathematics piled in - Tapendra's attempt to push other thoughts out of his mind and baffle him.

Concentrating himself, he pushed those aside and sought out something the two of them shared in memories - waking up after the night in the Three Broomsticks where Tapendra hadn't made it up to the Astronomy tower.

"Merlin, I am not your teddy bear!"
"Why'm I in your room?"
"I was hoping you might remember."
"Least we've got all our clothes on, Judy would kill me."

Funny how someone else's perspective filled in the gaps you didn't hear first time. Determined to prove how it was to exploit a memory once inside - Ignan pulled through the memory to the point where Tapendra was under the bed listening to Gabrielle and Johann.

"Maybe we should head off, Joh? It seems he isn't in a good mood to put up with our, er, your tomfoolery, but then again, you think he's up to no good?"
"He's always in a foul mood here. I don't think Hogwarts is good for him, Gabrielle. Merik pushed him into teaching, and its as though he feels obliged to continue even though he's an old man himself now. I don't know, perhaps its because this is his space, not even the students come in here. You should see his office by his classroom. One impressive collection of weird stuff in there. You could spend a week identifying it all, only he never tells the good stories unless you catch him in the mood."

The invasion came so suddenly he almost didn't catch the chair in time, collapsing into it with a gasp. It was a like a spike; not physically painful, but disorienting and distressing enough to knock him off his feet. His thoughts were directed, forced, and it was hard to gain control. He tried to distract himself for a moment, but in his disoriented state it did nothing.

Ignan had stopped, prying over the bed-memory, Tapendra reliving it with him. He sat quietly, now, calming himself; let Ignan have his way, more or less.

But...once you saw the pattern, it was...Ignan's mind was focused on him, and it wasn't hard to follow that line. His grip on his wand, already white-knuckled, tightened until the pain helped him focus. His lips found the word, spoken under his breath, and he threw himself into the mental push suddenly.

It wasn't a skilled or powerful surge; he pierced only slightly into Ignan's mind, almost instantly re-disoriented by the confusing flashes of imagery, made worse as Ignan's mind went into disarray. He saw a flash of...something - naked boys, blood, an Ignan-like man causing them pain as Ignan watched - before he broke and the connection severed.

He sat in the chair, head back, panting - his heart racing.

Ignan took a sharp intake of breath as he forced their minds apart.

"You were not meant to... I ... I ... well, I suppose I did say it was your best line of defence." He realised his mistake in telling Tapendra that moments before.

The two of them stared at each other. Whereas Ignan had preyed on a mutual memory, Tapendra had caught something of a memory of Ignan's father, as Merik had been mentioned. Now his younger friend looked shocked.

"Merlin." Ignan muttered and let out a sigh. "Gabrielle and Johann were discussing my father, and when you resisted, you caught a glimpse of one of my strongest memories of him as a teacher. He used a detention for three boys who were going to let off explosives in an examination, to demonstrate torture methods." He felt sickened for admitting it.

"I didn't think you'd manage to push back - stupid of me, I won't let it happen again." Ignan stood up out of his chair, uncomfortable to continue eye contact with Tapendra at that moment. He turned away, making a decision to distract them both with tea. Not alcohol, that wouldn't help matters at all... tea would.

"But you see how throwing equations at me didn't really hinder?" Ignan asked, tapping the kettle and then rubbing his temples, a headache growing caused by using legilmency when he had not for quite some time.

The moment was very uncomfortable; Tapendra shifted in the chair, frowning, as Ignan explained.

"Your father tortured young boys?" He asked, unable to keep the horror out of his voice. "Naked? That's...well..." He trailed off, closing his eyes, and changed the subject. He'd rather not deal with that, and from Ignan's tone, he didn't want to deal with it either.

"It was luck, I think. If you'd been more...destructive, I don't think I'd have been able to recall my grocery list, let alone resist." He rubbed his forehead, afflicted with a similar headache. "I see what you mean. It's like...almost like..." Rape. He wasn't going to say it out loud, but it certainly felt a bit like that.

"How do you stay calm through that?" He asked instead, looking up as Ignan started the tea. "And when I was in your head, the disarray was...hard to overcome. Impossible, really. How do you train for this?"

"He was a disciplinarian, and Durmstrang's Headmaster." Ignan explained, turning back with a chipped teapot and two teacups. Teaspoons,  a milk jug and a sugar bowl followed floating through the air behind and settling on the desktop beside the pensieve.

"Was, still is, though not that you'd know looking at him now."

"It was luck, I think. If you'd been more...destructive, I don't think I'd have been able to recall my grocery list, let alone resist." Tappy rubbed his forehead, and Ignan settled back into his chair, loosening his shirt cuffs.
"I see what you mean. It's like...almost like..." the two of them met eyes for a moment and Ignan gave a nod, knowing exactly what Tapendra meant.

"How do you stay calm through that? And when I was in your head, the disarray was...hard to overcome. Impossible, really. How do you train for this?"

"Practise." Ignan replied simply. "I didn't say it was going to be easy, did I?" He asked Tapendra with a raised eyebrow, stirring the pot before pouring two cups and adding Tapendra's preferred consistency of milk and sugar without consciously considering it.

"This is why its so important to practise the clear head. Occlumency comes very easily to wizards in the Far East who spend time meditating. Might be what you need to try - there's bound to be books about it near the divination section of the library, I believe its very productive for seers too."

Ignan leaned his forearms on the desk again and looked to Tapendra thoughtfully.
"Occlumens have to become cold, aloof when they're protecting themselves. Its not what you're used to, but you should try. Its a business-like manner towards aurors."

He didn't mention to Tapendra that undoubtedly the aurors wouldn't send in anyone who could probe Tapendra's mind too firmly without first having the adequate suspicion, and even then they'd probably decide to detain him in some way first. If they did that, then their only line of defence would be that the aurors gave up before Tapendra did - because the MLE didn't think Tappy was the sort to practise occlumency in the first place. Veritaserum however...

"Sounds like a charming fellow," He said, cheerfully. "Explains where you get it from, in any case." He smiled, quickly, to show he was joking.

The tea was very welcome, and aided the headache immensely. Some chocolate would have done wonders. He sipped from the cup, blowing the steam away, and listened as Ignan spoke.

"'If it was easy everyone would be doing it,' eh?" Tapendra said dryly, cradling the cup in his hands. "I do meditate, though I doubt it's the same kind by a long shot. I'll have a look for the books. See what I find, and if it helps."

He placed the cup back on the desk with the delicate clink. "I'm good at hiding my emotions," he admitted, after a moment. "It's the hiding of all my emotions I'm struggling with. It's easier to hide if you can layer them, cover the negative ones 'til they can be barely felt..." His brow creased, his fingers lacing together over his stomach.

"You've shown me a forceful probing," he said, aware suddenly how  that sounded - especially combined with the rape metaphors. He flushed deeply, stuttering over his next words as his brain desperately backpeddeled. "Um, anyway, what happens during a more subtle invasion?"

"Whatever works for you." Ignan shrugged. "But if I can still read you as easily, then its not working." He picked up his teacup. "I'm not at all an expert in this field, I can only teach you as much as I have practised."

Tapendra asked about a subtle invasion.

"I sit inside your head and watch really." He told Tapendra. "Conversation is used to bring the correct thoughts to the front, or by showing you something." Ignan turned and ran his fingers up the edge of a pile of library books just on the edge of the desk, which he would return in the morning and yanked a copy of the Daily Prophet out from between two of the books, rifling through it.

"Its done wordlessly, and surprisingly takes more effort than the other method." Finding the page he wanted, he folded the newspaper back on itself and halved it, took a deep breath looking at the article and the photo before raising his gaze, giving Tapendra an unsettling smile tossing the paper to him, with the photo of Vedir.

With great effort, he extended his mind to Tapendra's, which in Ignan's case - showed in his expression, because he was so out of practise, and even when he'd used it, he'd never been the most subtle.

His initial reaction, to try and throw up mental barriers, was silly and he knew it.  It came from reading too much science fiction, really. Ignan wasn't exactly being subtle in his cues, which gave him time to try to prepare, to drain his mind of emoti-

Vedir. The spike of anger and fear was really all it took; his blank state, however flawed, was broken as his eyes found the man's face, and then the words of the article. Just for an instant, he thought of the night in the car.

"Bugger," he said, with feeling, and instead filled his mind with images of his mother - younger, stressed, usually shouting. Trying not to broadcast his thoughts as his did so, he took the simplest course of action, and kicked Ignan's shin under the desk.

"The normal cues are more subtle than that, I hope," he said calmly - more calm than he truly felt - and grabbing his tea again, he drank. "Wordless magic...damn. I've never really done wordless or wandless casting."

"Much more." Ignan agreed, reaching down to rub his shin under the desk with a grimace.

"I probably deserved that - not just the kick, what you showed me in response." He rubbed his temples again and shut his eyes. "I figured it was something I could easily get a reaction out of you for, which is so keenly what you want to protect from being seen." He screwed his lined face up momentarily.

"Merlin dammit I'm out of practise." Ignan grumbled. His head felt like he'd shoved a sword through it from one side to the other. He opened his eyes and blinked.

"I used to be able to do that an awful lot better. But since ... well.... over ten years ago, when I lost your mother, it felt so horrific to attempt it on anyone for personal gain other than teaching - save for a while at Durmstrang, which was for personal gain - but entirely deserved." His gaze had drifted to the pensieve thoughtfully and he lifted his teacup again.

"Enough for tonight, anyhow - if not for you, but for me. Pity I can't find someone better to teach you." Ignan settled back and sighed deeply.
"This is what you want to do, isn't it, Tapendra?" He asked suddenly, raising his grey-blue gaze to his friend's features across the desk.