"You're late, Potter. ”

As Harry closed the door, Snape said coldly.

Snape stood with his back to Harry, carefully removing some of his memories and placing them in Dumbledore's meditation basin as usual. He placed the last bundle of silver thread into the stone basin and turned to face Harry.

"So," he said, "have you been practicing?"

Harry lied, staring earnestly at one of the legs of Snape's desk.

"Well, we'll find out in a moment, won't we?" Snape said in a smooth tone, "take out your wand, Potter." ”

Harry walked over to where he normally stood, facing Snape across the table. His heart raced at anger at Autumn and worry about how many memories Snape was trying to snatch from his head.

"Count to three," Snape said lazily, "one——,two—"

The door to Snape's office slammed open, and Draco Malfoy rushed in.

"Professor Snape, sir—oh—I'm sorry—" Malfoy looked at Snape and Harry with some surprise.

"It's okay, Draco," Snape said, lowering his wand, "Potter is here to catch up on some Potions lessons. ”

Harry hadn't seen Malfoy so happy since Umbridge suddenly appeared to censor Hagrid.

"I don't know," Malfoy looked at Harry slyly.

Harry knew his face was flushing. He hated to shout the truth out loud at Malfoy—or, better yet, cast a powerful spell on him.

"Alright, Draco, what's the matter?" asked Snape.

"It's Professor Ibudu, sir—he needs help. "They've found Warrington, sir, and he's locked in a restroom on the fourth floor." ”

"How did he lock him in?" Snape asked.

"I don't know, sir, he's a little delirious. ”

"Good, good. Potter," Snape said, "we're moving the make-up time to tomorrow night." ”

He turned and strode out of the office. Before going out, Malfoy said to Harry in an exaggerated manner behind Snape's back, "Potions make-up?"

Harry excitedly slipped his wand back into his robes as he prepared to leave. At least he had 24 hours to practice, and he knew he should be grateful for the lesson, though it would come at a high cost: Malfoy would tell the whole school that he needed to take a potions make-up lesson.

As he walked to the door of his office, he noticed a trembling speck of light dancing on the door frame. He stopped, stood there staring at it, remembered something...... , and then he remembered: it was a bit like the light he had seen in his dream last night, the light in the second room he had passed through as he walked around the Department of Mysteries.

He turned. The light came from the meditation basin on Snape's desk. The silvery-white object undulated and swirled in the basin. Snape's Memory...... , which was something he definitely didn't want Harry to see if he accidentally broke through his defenses during practice. Harry stared at the meditation basin, curiosity welling up in him...... What kind of memory made Snape so anxious to hide from Harry?silver flickers of light fluttered across the walls...... Harry took two more steps closer to the table, struggling to think.

Could this be the information about the Department of Mysteries that Snape had decided not to let him know?, Harry turned his head to look behind him, his heart beating faster and faster than ever. How long did it take Snape to get Warrington out of the toilet?

Will he go straight back to the office afterwards, or will he escort Warrington to the hospital?

It's clearly the latter...... Warrington was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and Snape had to make sure he was okay.

Harry walked a few steps to the table and looked down at the meditation basin, gazing into its depths. He hesitated, he listened, and then drew his wand again. There was silence at the end of the office and hallway.

He tapped the tip of his wand on the object in the meditation basin, and the silver object in the basin began to spin rapidly. Harry leaned forward and watched as it became transparent.

Once again, he looked down into a room from above, as if he were looking down through a round window in the ceiling...... In fact, unless he was mistaken, the room he was looking at was the auditorium. His breath literally formed a fog on the surface of Snape's memory...... His brain seemed to be on the verge of hell...... It was crazy to do something that he was so strongly attracted to do...... , he trembled...... , Snape will be back at any time...... , but Harry thought of Cho's anger, thought of Mal's mocking face, and a reckless courage grabbed him.

He took a sharp breath, then threw his face into the surface of Snape's mind.

The floor of the office immediately tilted over, pouring Harry headfirst into the meditation basin...... He fell in the cold darkness, spinning and spinning, and then—he stood in the center of the auditorium, but the tables of the four houses were gone. Instead, there were more than a hundred small tables, all facing in one direction, each with a student sitting in front of him, bowing his head and writing quickly on a roll of parchment.

The only sounds in the auditorium were the writing of a quill, or the occasional scratching on the parchment when someone changed their answers. Obviously, now for the exams.

Sunlight streamed down through the high windows and cast onto the students' lowered heads, shining in the bright sunlight in maroon, copper, and gold. Harry looked around. Snape must be here...... , which is ...... his memory.

There he was, at a table behind Harry. Harry stared at him.

Young Snape was slender and pale, like a plant growing in the dark. His hair was straight and greasy and hung down to the table, and his hooked nose was barely half an inch from the parchment he was writing quickly.

Harry walked around behind Snape and looked at the exam papers, which read: "Defence Against the Dark Arts - Wizards of the Ordinary Common, etc."

Snape must have been 15 or 16 years old at this time, about Harry's own age.

His pen moved rapidly on parchment, his papers were at least a foot longer than his adjacent desk, and his handwriting was small and dense.

"Five minutes to go!"

The sound startled Harry. He turned around and saw the top of Professor Flitwick's head moving between desks not far away. Professor Flitwick walked past a boy with messy black hair...... Very messy brunette ......

Harry was running so fast, if he was an entity, he must have knocked the table flying. Instead, he glides like a dream, through two aisles to the third row of tables.

The back of the brunette boy is getting closer...... He sat up straight now, put down his quill pen, and pulled his parchment back so that he could reread his answers......

Harry stopped at his desk, looking down at his five-year-old father. Harry's stomach erupted with excitement: it was as if he was looking at a mistaken version of himself.

Jaime's eyes were light brown, his nose was slightly longer than Harry's, and he had no scars on his forehead, but they both had the same thin faces, the same lips, and the same eyebrows, and Jaime's hair was standing on end at the back of his head, exactly the same as Harry's, and his hands could be used as Harry's, and Harry could tell that they were not much the same height when Jaime stood up.

Please remember that the first domain name of this book is .. The fastest website for mobile version update: m.