Harry Potter and the Old Ones

After the first black magic class after Christmas, it was another pleasant weekend——

At least this is the case for most students.

Although the courses at Hogwarts have become more and more interesting under Tiera's successive educational reforms, students are still students after all, especially a group of eleven, two, three, four, five, six or seven-year-old brats in adolescence. After all, not everyone is Hermione, and not everyone can spend weekends or even the entire Christmas holiday studying like Hermione.

So despite having just spent a cheerful Christmas holiday, the little wizards at Hogwarts are happy to welcome another cheerful weekend——

But this weekend was not so happy for Harry——

"Stand up, Potter!" Snape said sternly.

On the night of the first Saturday after Christmas, Harry was kneeling on the floor of Snape's office again, trying to clear his mind.

He had just been forced to relive a bunch of childhood memories that he didn't even know he still had, most of them involving the humiliation Dudley's gang had done to him in elementary school.

"What's the last memory?" Snape walked over slowly and asked.

"I, I don't know." Harry said. He stood up tiredly and found it increasingly difficult to distinguish the images and sounds that Snape kept bringing out. "Is it the one my cousin wanted me to stand in the toilet? ?”

"No." Snape said softly, "It's a man kneeling in the middle of a dark room??"

"That's... nothing."

Snape's dark eyes looked like drills into Harry's. Harry remembered that eye contact was key to Legilimency, and he blinked and looked away.

"How did that man and the question house get into your head, Potter?" said Snape.

"That -" Harry avoided his gaze, "that - was just a dream I had."

"A dream?" said Snape.

There was a moment of silence as Harry stared at a dead frog soaked in purple liquid.

"Do you know what we are doing here, Potter?" Snape whispered ferociously. "Do you know why I gave up my evening relaxation time to do this nasty job?"

"I know." Harry said stiffly.

"Tell me what we're doing here, Potter."

"Teach me Occlumency." Harry said as his eyes wandered around the room, staring aimlessly at a dead eel.

"Yes, Potter is right, even if you are stupid."

——Harry stared back at Snape, looking at him with hatred——

"I thought after two months of classes, you should have made some progress. How many dreams have you had about the Dark Lord?"

"Just this one," Harry lied.

"Perhaps," Snape's cold black eyes narrowed, "perhaps you enjoy having these hallucinations and strange dreams, Potter. Perhaps they make you feel special—important?"

"No." Harry gritted his teeth and tightened his fingers on the handle of his wand.

"That's fine, Potter," Snape said coldly, "because you're neither special nor important, and it's not your job to find out what the Dark Lord said to his Death Eaters."

"Yeah - that's your job, isn't it?" Harry shouted at him.

He didn't mean to say that, he blurted it out out of anger.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Harry thought he had gone too far.

But there was a strange, almost satisfied look on Snape's face.

"Yes, Potter," his eyes sparkled, "that's my job. Now, are you ready, let's do it again?"

Snape raised his wand again: "One—two—three—Legilimency!"

A hundred dementors rushed towards Harry from the lake. His face was twisted in nervousness. As they got closer and closer, he saw the black hole under the hood, but at the same time he saw Snape standing in front of him, staring at him. His face was muttering something. For some reason, Snape became clearer and the Dementors faded. Harry raised his wand——

"Armor protection!"

Snape stumbled, his wand flying upward, away from Harry—

Suddenly Harry's mind was filled with unfamiliar memories——

A hook-nosed man was yelling at a cowering woman. A little boy with dark hair was crying in the corner. A teenager with greasy hair sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling to shoot flies. A skinny boy thought. Riding on a jumping broom, a girl next to him was laughing at him——

"That's enough!" Harry felt a strong push in his chest. He staggered back a few steps and hit a shelf next to the wall. Something broke with a click.

Snape was shaking slightly and his face was pale.

The back of Harry's robes was wet. He had just broken a bottle, and something slimy inside was swirling in the draining potion.

"Back as before!" Snape hissed, closing the bottle again.

"Ah, Potter. This is quite an improvement." Snape panted slightly and adjusted the pensieve, as if he was checking whether the thoughts he had stored in before class were still there. "I don't remember telling you to use the Iron Armor Charm. But it was undoubtedly effective."

Harry said nothing. He felt that anything he said would be dangerous. He knew that he had just broken into Snape's memory and saw Snape when he was a child.

This made Harry feel very uncomfortable, thinking that the little boy who was crying while watching his parents fight was standing in front of him with such strong hatred in his eyes.

"How about one more time?" Snape said fiercely.

Harry felt a twinge of fear as he guessed that he would have to pay for what he had just done.

The two stood across the table, and Harry found it much harder to clear his mind this time.

"On the count of three," said Snape, raising his wand again, "one—two—"

Before Harry could concentrate and clear his mind, Snape shouted: "Legilimency!"

He seemed to be back to the scene during the battle at the Ministry of Magic that night. He was running through the narrow corridors of the Department of Mysteries, with stone walls and torches passing by on both sides——

They finally got rid of the Death Eaters chasing behind them. They finally ran into an elevator. They finally arrived at the reception hall of the Ministry of Magic. As long as they ran a few more steps, they could return to the safety of Hogwart through the Floo Network. Sorry, but——

A figure was standing next to the magic fountain. The figure was tall and thin, wearing a black mask. The scary snake-like face was pale and haggard, and the scarlet eyes with pupils like slits were staring at him.

"Ah, Harry." Voldemort smiled viciously, "I was still wondering when you would come up."

"Potter!"

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground again, but he couldn't remember how he fell. He was breathing heavily, as if he had really been running for so long.

"Explain yourself!" Snape stood in front of him and said angrily.

"I don't know what's going on," Harry said honestly, standing up with a bump on the back of his head. He felt as if he had a fever.

"You're not trying hard enough!"

For some reason, Snape seemed angrier than when Harry saw his own memory two minutes ago.

"You're lazy and sloppy, Potter, no wonder the Dark Lord—"

"Can you explain, sir?" Harry became angry again. "Why do you call Voldemort the Dark Lord? I've only ever heard Death Eaters call him that -"

Snape opened his mouth, and saw that the roaring voice was about to blurt out——

"Knock knock knock——"

But a steady knock on the door interrupted Snape's angry roar that was about to retreat.