"Your mother sacrificed herself," Dumbledore said. "That was powerful magic — it left a mark, not metaphorically but physically, in your skin and your blood. That's what saved you."
Harry nodded. He remembered.
"When Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at you, it rebounded. At first I believed the consequence was simply fragments of his power bleeding through — Parseltongue being the clearest example."
He paused.
"But your nightmares have made me reconsider. The Killing Curse shreds the soul. He aimed it at yours, but it rebounded into his. That may have done more than deflect it. It may have linked you — a fragment going in either direction."
Harry sat with that.
"When he's close to you, or feeling something intensely — hatred, anticipation — your scar responds because you're feeling it from him. Not imagining it. Actually receiving it. Which means, in moments when that connection is active, you may be seeing through his eyes. Hearing his thoughts."
"And he could do the same to me," Harry said.
"In theory. Which is why Occlumency matters. If the connection is real, Voldemort is sophisticated enough to exploit it deliberately." Dumbledore looked at Kevin. "Harry needs to begin intensive practice."
"Already working on it," Kevin said. "We can start properly this week."
Harry rubbed his scar. The thing that had itched and burned for four years — not just a scar. A thread.
"Harry." Dumbledore's voice was gentle. "This is not something that defines you. Your choices, your relationships, who you've become — none of that belongs to Voldemort. And once this is over, that fragment will be gone."
He leaned forward slightly.
"If you dream anything significant, tell me immediately. And keep your focus on the final task — Voldemort will almost certainly try to use it."
Harry nodded. Not the shaken, overwhelmed response Kevin might have expected from a younger version of him. Something harder had settled in behind his eyes.
"Alright," Harry said. "What do I need to know about Occlumency?"
Kevin answered that.
They left the office together. Dumbledore had reminded them both to keep what they'd seen about the Longbottoms' case quiet. Neither of them needed to discuss it.
On the first floor, passing Snape's storeroom, Karkaroff's voice leaked through the gap in the door.
"Severus. The mark has been darkening. I haven't seen this in over a decade. Something is happening. It's a sign, Severus—"
Snape, clearly finished with this conversation, yanked the door open to end it — and found Kevin and Harry in the corridor.
Harry looked at Karkaroff's arm. The sleeve had ridden up. The Dark Mark was visible on the skin, darker than it should have been, faintly shifting.
Karkaroff yanked it down, went stone-faced, and walked away without a word.
Snape looked at Kevin. Then at Harry. Then snorted, stepped back, and began to close the door.
Kevin knocked on it.
"Professor, is everything alright? You look tense. I'm a good listener, if something's troubling you."
The door swung open.
A spell launched Kevin backwards two metres.
The door closed.
Harry stood very still in the corridor, watching Kevin peel himself off the stone floor.
"...Forceful," Kevin said, brushing dust off his robes.
"You knocked on his door," Harry said. "Immediately after he'd seen us through a conversation he wanted private."
"I was offering support."
"Kevin."
"It seemed like the considerate thing to do." He grabbed Harry's arm and steered them away before any follow-up arrived through the woodwork.
"The Dark Mark on Karkaroff's arm," Harry said, once they were around the corner. "It's getting darker. That means Voldemort is getting stronger."
"Yes."
"Snape has one too."
"Yes."
Harry thought about it. "Do you trust him?"
Kevin paused walking. He gave it the consideration it deserved.
"Karkaroff sold out everyone he knew to save himself and has spent every year since calculating whether to run. He'll go straight back to Voldemort the moment he thinks it's safer than running." He started walking again. "Snape did terrible things before Voldemort fell. But he turned before it was over and he hasn't gone back, and Dumbledore has trusted him with everything in this school for thirteen years. That means something." He glanced at Harry. "It's enough for me."
Harry let out a slow breath. Nodded.
They walked back toward the Gryffindor corridor, and Harry started asking about Occlumency technique, and Kevin answered, and the conversation moved forward as conversations do.
The remaining weeks before the final task ran at a sprint's pace.
Harry and Ron drilled until their form became automatic. Kevin managed his teaching load, squeezed in preparation in the margins, and had Hermione quietly reorganised his lesson planning system in a way that saved him several hours a week. He thanked her by kissing her in the middle of the workshop while she was trying to hand him graded papers.
She dropped them.
He picked them up and handed them back.
She was still smiling when she left.
The day before the final task, Dumbledore found Kevin alone in the workshop.
He sat down across the worktable and said something Kevin hadn't expected.
"Kevin. If Voldemort's plan requires Harry's blood to restore his body — don't stop it."
Kevin looked at him.
Dumbledore held the look. "Lily's sacrifice placed a protection in Harry's blood. If Voldemort uses that blood for his resurrection, that protection transfers — it becomes Voldemort's weakness, not just Harry's shield. Let it happen."
Kevin sat with this for a moment.
"Alright," he said.
---
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