Harry Potter and the Great 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 still 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 knelt 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 which were the humiliation Dudley's group 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, finding it increasingly difficult to distinguish the images and sounds that Snape kept bringing out. "It was my cousin who wanted me to stand there." The one 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 are doing here, Potter."

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

"Yes, Potter...yes, 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 held the wand handle tightly with his fingers.

"That's fine, Potter," Snape said coldly, "because you are neither special nor important, and there is no need for you 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 expression 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... They were getting closer... He saw under the hood

Black hole... But at the same time, he saw Snape standing in front of him, staring at his face, mumbling words... 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 is yelling at a cowering woman, a black-haired little boy is crying in the corner... A greasy-haired teenager is sitting alone in a dark bedroom, pointing at the ceiling with a wand and shooting

Fly... A skinny boy wants to ride on a jumping broom, and a girl next to him is laughing at him——

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

Snape was trembling 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, and the bottle closed again.

"Ah, Potter...this is quite an improvement." Snape panted slightly and adjusted the pensieve, as if checking whether the thoughts he had stored before class were still there. "I don't remember.

I told you to use the Iron Armor Curse...but it is undoubtedly effective..."

Harry didn't speak. He felt that anything he said would be dangerous. He knew that he had just broken into Snape's memory and saw Snape's childhood scene.

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

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

Harry felt a sense of fear because he guessed that he would pay the price for what he had just done.

The two stood across the table, and Harry felt that it was much more difficult 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 have returned to the scene that night during the battle at the Ministry of Magic. 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, with a terrifying snake-like face that was pale and haggard, and scarlet eyes with pupils like slits staring at him.

"Ah, Harry." Voldemort smiled viciously, "I'm still wondering when I can come up."

...

"Potter!"

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground again, but he didn'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 and hitting 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.