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Like several times before in the last month his thoughts strayed to the woman and how she'd ditched him when confronted with Madam Bones. Her flight – really, what else could he call it – was troubling in many ways, more so because she hadn't contacted him again afterwards.
Being ditched by a pretty girl stung, sure, but as she was the one he ahd confided his secrets in he was more than a little worried.
"You're no help at all." He sighed, frustrated.
"Of course not," she said archly. "An outsider cannot truly understand the depths and secrets of a personal reading, though I confess this one is more confusing to me than many others. Would you like my thoughts on the matter?" Harry nodded hesitantly and she thought for a moment.
"I have good news and bad news," she concluded finally. Harry rolled his eyes when she paused dramatically and gestured for her to get on with it. "The good news is that your life is looking up. To go from death via selfishness to lovers is a definite improvement."
Harry sighed resignedly. "I'm already regretting asking for your input."
She gasped loudly in mock outrage. "And you haven't even heard the bad news yet."
"Merlin spare me."
Her face took on a solemn cast fit for consoling a patient on his sickbed. "Best I can tell you're a narcissistic necrophiliac."
Raising his hands in disgust Harry got to his feet and stormed for the trap door that would lead him away from the crazy witch. Maybe he should just get in some Occlumency practice.
Her cackling followed him down the ladder.
"Should I be fearing for my virtue as a portrait of a dead woman?"
Despite the fact that Snape wasn't involved, Occlumency practice was still unpleasant. Without a Legilimens to help him, practising required something else to try and break into his mind. According to the books, long term exposure to a boggart or short term exposure to a Dementor were typical options.
Of course due to his bipolar luck Harry's boggart was a Dementor. It helped, in that he could get optimal results for Occlumency in a shorter amount of time than other people. Unfortunately it required him painfully having his mind broken into by his greatest fear: twice as unpleasant.
Without any other options, however, Harry steeled himself and visited the Room of Requirement every day to have his mind turned to mush in a paradoxical effort to protect it.
Today, the screams nobody else could hear finally became too much and he sank down on one knee.
"Expecto Patronum!" he called out, panting heavily, his vision swimming.
A luminous silver stag sprung out of his wand and cantered to the Boggart-Dementor, prancing in front of it, inching ever closer. It was herding the abomination to the corner where its new home sat.
Harry had originally found the creature in a large chest where it was comfortable and quite ready to frighten innocent passers-by. After being forced to face the thing time and time again, however, he was quite eager for a bit of petty revenge.
The stag feinted to the side, and the boggart responded, trying to flee. Quickly the stag jumped the other way and caught it on its antlers, hurtling the boggart to its new home. It took the only way out, away from the patronus and fled inside. With a snap the matchbox closed behind it.
From its position on the floor it rattled a little, making a tiny sound of discontent. Harry chuckled maliciously.
"Not quite so frightening now, are you," he said, slumping to the floor, laying spread-eagled on his back in exhaustion.
"That'll teach you," he mumbled even as he sunk into an Augeomency trance to help his mind build shields around it.
Sadly he was a little distracted with thoughts about Amanda that the Tarot reading raised. Why had she fled from the Head of the DMLE? Did she have a criminal past? Her silence since then surely made her look guilty.
He was certain she hadn't had a Dark Mark, so that was something at least, but there were still so many questions. After Rosmerta told him Amanda never came back to the Three Broomsticks he had resigned himself to never getting them answered, but this stupid Tarot reading had raised them all up again.
"Are you practising for your Lovers card?" Cassandra's voice pierced the silence, startling him. With a baleful eye Harry looked around.
Without his notice the Room of Requirement had shifted around him, once more producing the desk and portrait from back when he had first met Cassandra. In addition, there was a crystal ball on its cast-iron stand on the desk.
"Sodding intelligent buildings," Harry grumbled half-heartedly as he slowly got to his feet and stumbled over to the desk. "Why are you suddenly here?"
Cassandra shrugged. "Doesn't this room make your thoughts reality?" She winced. "You weren't dreaming about me in a pose on a card, were you?"
"Your virtue is quite safe," he said dryly. He looked the crystal ball in front of him up and down. "Perhaps it thinks I should use Divining to get answers to my questions?"
"Another shot at directed viewing, hmm?" she said, pensive. "That hasn't really worked for you so far."
Harry shrugged. He'd gotten some results 'viewing in the blind', as Cassandra called it, but trying for a vision on a specific subject was still tricky. Mostly he didn't get anything. The one time he did he'd asked for an omen about dangers to him in the near future and gotten a very brief vision of a goat and a snake.
They probably symbolised Dumbledore and Voldemort, but that really said nothing new to him. He already knew he got along with neither. Either way it said nothing specific about an attack on him, or something.
Still...
"Can't hurt to try," he mumbled.
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If you're eager to delve deeper into the story, consider joining my Patreon for exclusive content and early access to new chapters
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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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