Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin

Chapter 32: Home for the Holidays

21 December 1992
9:00 a.m.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" asked Harry as he continued to pack his trunk for the Christmas holidays.

"Yes," replied Theo irritably. "I'll stay in bounds and avoid any creepy evil mirrors. Besides, Ginny, Amy and Marcus are all staying over. That's three times as many Slytherins as I had to talk to this time last year."

"So explain again why you're not riding the train with the rest of us?" asked Blaise. "You're missing out on one of our beloved school traditions – being cooped up with all your peers for six hours in tiny compartments that smell like cheap faux leather."

Harry looked at him quizzically. "Why would you say it smells like cheap faux leather? I'm fairly certain the compartments are actually furnished with expensive real leather."

"Don't evade the question."

Harry shrugged. "After everything that's happened, the Potters and Dumbledore decided that it would be best for me to Floo straight to Potter Manor rather than take the train and be exposed to mad assassins and crazed house elves for six hours or more. Neville and Jim are going the same way."

"Hmph," Zabini replied almost petulantly. "I wish I could. I'll have to take the train to London, meet Gunther, and then take an international portkey to Marseilles." He made a face. "I hate international portkeys."

"Why Marseilles?" Harry asked. "I thought you spent the holidays in New York every year."

He shrugged. "Mother usually has some sort of get-together of the night of the Winter Solstice for some of her friends. this year, it's in Marseilles."

"Hmm," Theo said. "A solstice party. Sounds ... kind of pagan, actually."

"Not really," Blaise replied. "Just an excuse to break out the champagne a few days early."

Harry finished packing his trunk and gave his best Slytherin friends goodbye hugs. Then, he lugged the trunk down to the Common Room and outside into the corridor just as Professor Snape rounded the corner.

"Punctual as usual, Potter. Your Gryffindor traveling companions will no doubt be late, which gives us a few minutes to confer." Snape produced a piece of paper which he handed to the boy. Then, he gestured at the heavy trunk with his wand and shrank it down until it would fit into Harry's pocket. "One of your parents will be able to restore it to its normal size with a Finite." He hesitated thoughtfully. "Ask you mother first. She is the more competent of the two. I imagine your imbecilic father will accidentally explode the trunk or set it on fire or something else equally ridiculous."

Harry nodded in agreement as he pocketed the trunk and then opened the note. It had just a few words in Snape's familiar handwriting, but no signature.

Perceptual Dilation

also-known-as

Fixing the Mind's Gaze Betwixt the Seven Beats of the Heart

"Sir?" Harry asked in confusion.

"My understanding is that you will be meeting with your Occlumency instructor at least once over the break. On the note are written the two most common names for an obscure Occlumency sub-skill you might find valuable. I prefer the first name, but traditionalist Occlumens as well as those more given to poetry prefer the second. Not knowing anything about your instructor, I have included both names. Either way, it is a technique for using Occlumency to improve reflexes and speed up one's thought processes." Snape sniffed somewhat disdainfully at the boy. "I do not wish to see a repeat of your sluggish response time should you be forced to publicly duel the Other Potter again."