Vol 2 Chapter 927: hide

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"Stand up, Potter."
The day after he dreamed of Lockwood, Harry knelt on the floor of Snape's office, trying to clean his head.
He had just been forced to experience some memories from a long time ago, mostly due to Dudley and his associates bullying him in elementary school.
"The last memory," Snape said, "what's that?"
"I don't know," Harry said, standing up wearily. He found it more difficult to separate the various memories from the fast flashing images, under Snape's constant pressure. "Are you saying that my cousin wants to keep me in the toilet?"
"No," Snape said softly, "I mean a man kneeling in the middle of a dark room."
"That's nothing," Harry said. Snape's eyes went straight into Harry's. He once said that the staring of the eyes is very important for contemplation. Harry blinked quickly and looked aside.
"How did that man and that room get into your head, Potter?" Snape asked.
"It—" Harry looked around, not looking at Snape. "It's just a dream of mine."
"A dream?" Snape repeated. There was a silence, and Harry watched a big dead frog float in some purple liquid.
"You know why we are here, right? Potter." Snape said in a low, medium, dangerous voice.
"Do you know why I give up every night to do this tedious job?"
"Yes." Harry said stiffly.
"Tell me why we are here, Potter."
"Because I want to learn Occlumency, Professor..." Harry said, now his eyes were fixed on a dead eel.
"Correct, Potter. Even though you are stupid—"
Harry turned back to look at Snape, bitter in his heart.
"I still thought that after one or two months of study, you would make some progress. How many dreams about mysterious people have you had?"
"Only that one," Harry lied.
"Maybe," Snape said, his cold black eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe you really enjoy these dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel a special—importance. ?"
"No, they don't," Harry said, his jaw tightened and his fingers held the wand tightly.
"Well then, Potter," Snape said coldly. "Since you are neither special nor important, then what the Mysterious Man and his Death Eaters are talking about has nothing to do with you."
"No—that's your job, isn't it?" Harry called to him. He didn't want to say that, but he blurted out in anger. They stared at each other for a long time, and Harry had gone too far. But when Snape spoke, there was a strange, almost satisfied expression on his face.
"Yes, Potter," he said, eyes gleaming. "That's my job. Now, if you're ready, we'll start again." He raised his wand: "One-two-three-mindfulness!"
A hundred dementors jumped across the lake to Harry. His face was distorted by concentration. They got closer, and Harry could see the black hole under their turban. He could still see Snape standing in front of him, staring at Harry closely, muttering to himself. For some reason, Snape became clearer and clearer, and the Dementor became blurry.
Harry raised his wand. "Call God to guard!"
Snape stumbled-his wand flew out-suddenly, Harry's mind was filled with memories that did not belong to him: a man with a crooked nose was roaring at a cowering woman, a little boy with black hair Weeping in the corner; a greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark room, pointed his wand at the ceiling and shot at the flies; a scrawny boy was trying to jump on a broom, while a girl was laughing at him nearby.
"Enough!" Harry felt his chest being pushed hard, and he fell a few steps back, hit a few shelves, and heard something broken. Snape shivered slightly and paled. The robe on Harry's back was soaked. One of the bottles he hit shattered, and sticky stuff came out of it.
"Return to the original state," Snape hissed, and the bottle immediately returned to its original condition.
"Okay, Potter. There is indeed progress." Snape panted slightly, he helped the meditation basin, and before class he put some memories in it, as if to make sure they were still inside.
"I don't remember asking you to use a defensive spell, but it is undoubtedly useful."
Harry said nothing; he felt that whatever he said was dangerous. He must have entered Snape's memory and saw Snape's childhood. He thought wearily that the little boy who was crying and watching his parents quarrel was standing in front of him at the moment, his eyes full of disgust.
"Shall we do it again?" Snape said.
This made Harry a little scared, he was about to pay for what had just happened, he was certain. They stood on both sides of the table, and Harry felt it was harder to clear his mind now.
"I count to three," Snape said, raising his wand again. "One-two-" Before Harry could concentrate to clear his mind, he heard Snape yelling: "Punching mind-"
The scene changed quickly. He flew across the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, past the blank walls, past the torches—the black door was there, and it opened wider. He ran so fast, almost rushing. Going up, he stood in front of it again, and saw the light blue light in the crack of the door-the door opened!
He walked through the door and came to a round room. The surrounding walls were black and the floor below was also black. Only the blue candle light was shining. There were many doors around. Which one should he go?
"Potter!" Harry opened his eyes, and he lay on the ground unconsciously; he gasped, as if he really ran across the long corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, and really ran past that A black door found the round room.
"Explain!" Snape called ~EbookFREE.me~ looking at him from above, looking very angry.
"I don't know what's wrong," Harry said honestly, standing up. There is a lump on the back of his head, which was left by hitting the ground when he fell. "I never saw it, I mean, I told you, I dreamt of a door, and it never opened—"
"You didn't work hard enough!" For some reason, Snape looked more angry than when Harry entered his memory two minutes ago. "You are too lazy and conceited, Potter, this is just a small miracle, the Dark Lord..."
"So, can you tell me, sir?" Harry said, starting to get angry again. "Why are you called Voldemort the Dark Lord? I only heard Death Eaters call him that."
Snape opened his mouth angrily—a woman's scream came from outside. Snape jumped up, staring at the ceiling.
"What is this—" he muttered. Harry could hear a suppressed commotion from the hall. Snape looked at him, frowning.
"Did you see anything unusual when you came down, Potter?"