Chapter 927 Concealment

…

"Stand up, Potter."

The day after the dream about Lockwood, Harry knelt on the floor of Snape's office, trying to clear his head.

He had just been forced to relive some memories from long ago, mostly involving Dudley and his gang bullying him in primary school.

"One last memory," said Snape, "what is that?"

"I don't know," Harry said, standing up wearily. He found it increasingly difficult to separate various memories from the rapid flashback scenes under Snape's constant pressure. "Are you talking about my cousin locking me in the toilet?"

"No," Snape said softly, "I mean a man kneeling in the middle of a dark room."

"Well, it's nothing," Harry said. Snape's eyes looked directly into Harry's eyes. He once said that eye contact is very important for Legilimency. Harry blinked quickly and looked aside.

"How did that man and that house come to your mind, Potter?" Snape asked.

"It—" Harry looked around, but not at Snape, "it was just a dream of mine."

"A dream?" Snape repeated. There was a moment of silence as Harry watched a large dead frog floating in some purple liquid.

"You know why we are here, don't you, Potter?" Snape said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Do you know why I give up every night to do this boring job?"

"Yes," Harry said dully.

"Tell me why we are here, Potter."

"Because I'm going to learn Occlumency, Professor..." Harry said, now staring at a dead eel.

"Correct, Potter. As stupid as you are—"

Harry turned back to look at Snape with hatred in his heart.

"I originally thought that you would make some progress after a month or two of study. How many dreams have you had about mysterious people?"

"Only that one," Harry lied.

"Maybe," Snape said, his cold black eyes narrowing slightly, "maybe you really enjoy these dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel a special - importance. ?”

"No, they don't," Harry said, his jaw set and his fingers tightening around his wand.

"Well, Potter," Snape said coolly, "since you are neither special nor important, what You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters are saying has nothing to do with you."

"No - that's your job, isn't it?" Harry called to him. He didn't mean to say it, but in anger he blurted it out. 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 when he spoke.

"Yes, Potter," he said, his eyes twinkling. "That's my job. Now, if you're ready, we'll start again." He raised his wand: "One-two-three-Legilimency!"

A hundred dementors jumped across the lake towards Harry. His face was contorted with concentration. They were closer, and Harry could see the dark holes beneath their hoods. He could still see Snape standing in front of him, staring closely at Harry and muttering to himself. For some reason, Snape became clearer and clearer, while the Dementors became more and more blurry.

Harry raised his wand. "Call the gods to protect you!"

Snape stumbled—his wand flew out—and suddenly Harry's mind was filled with memories that didn't belong to him: a hook-nosed man growling at a cowering woman, a little boy with dark hair. Crying in the corner; a greasy-haired teenager sitting alone in a dark room, pointing his wand at the ceiling and shooting at flies; a scrawny boy trying to jump on a broom while a girl laughs at him.

"That's enough!" Harry felt his chest being pushed hard. He fell back a few steps, bumped into several shelves, and heard something break. Snape trembled slightly and turned pale. Harry's robes were soaked at the back. One of the bottles he bumped into shattered, and something sticky came out of it.

"Return to normal," Snape hissed, and the bottle immediately returned to its original state.

"Okay, Potter. There is indeed progress." Snape panted slightly. He supported the pensieve. Before class, he put some more memories in it, as if he wanted to confirm whether they were still in it.

"I don't remember asking you to use a defensive spell, but it was certainly useful."

Harry said nothing; he felt that anything he said would be dangerous. He must have entered Snape's memories and seen Snape's childhood. He thought tiredly that the little boy who was crying and watching his parents quarreling was standing in front of him, his eyes full of disgust.

"Shall we do it again?" said Snape.

This frightened Harry a little, he was going to pay for what had just happened, he was sure of it. They stood on opposite sides of the table, and Harry found it harder to clear his mind now.

"I'm counting to three," Snape said, raising his wand again. "One-two-" Before Harry had time to concentrate and clear his mind, he heard Snape shout: "Legilimency-"

The scene changed quickly, and he was running through the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, past the blank walls, past the torches - and there was the black door, opened wider, running so fast that he almost rushed. Going up, he stood in front of it again and saw the light blue light in the crack of the door - the door was open!

He walked through the door and came to a circular room. The surrounding walls were black, and the floor below was also black. Only blue candlelight illuminated it. There were many doors around. Which one should he take?

"Potter!" Harry opened his eyes, and he was lying on the ground unconscious again; he was panting, as if he had really run through the long corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, really ran through it. Open the black door and find the circular room.

"Explain it!" shouted Snape, looking at him from above, looking extremely angry.

"I, don't know what's wrong," Harry said matter-of-factly, standing up. There was a lump on the back of his head, where he hit the ground when he fell. "I never saw that, I mean, I told you, I dreamed about a door and it never opened—"

"You're not trying hard enough!" For some reason, Snape looked angrier than he had been two minutes ago, when Harry had entered his memory. "You are too lazy and too conceited, Potter. This is just a small miracle. The Dark Lord..."

"Well, can you tell me, sir?" Harry said, getting angry again. "Why did you call Voldemort the Dark Lord? I've only heard Death Eaters call him that."

Snape opened his mouth angrily - a woman's scream came from outside. Snape jumped to his feet and stared at the ceiling.

"What is-" he muttered. Harry could hear a muffled commotion coming from the hall. Snape looked at him, frowning.

"Did you see anything unusual when you came down, Potter?" (To be continued)