......

"Stand up, Potter. ”

The day after dreaming of Lockwood, Harry was kneeling on the floor of Snape's office, trying to wash his head.

He had just been forced to relive some memories from a long time ago, mostly Dudley and his accomplices bullying him in elementary school.

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

"I don't know," Harry said, standing up tiredly. He found it more difficult to separate memories from the flashbacks of the flashbacks, under Snape's constant pressure. "Do you mean my cousin is going to lock me up in the toilet?"

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

"Well, nothing. Harry said. Snape's eyes went straight into Harry's eyes, and he had said that eye contact was very important for the deception, and Harry quickly blinked and looked to the side.

"How did that man and that room end up in your head, Potter?" Snape asked.

"It—" Harry looked around, just not at Snape, "it's just a dream of mine." ”

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

"You know why we're here, right? Potter. Snape said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Do you know why I gave up every night to do this tedious job?"

"Yes. Harry said stiffly.

"Tell me why we're here, Potter. ”

"Because I'm learning Occlumency, Professor......" Harry said, now his eyes fixed on a dead eel.

"Correct, Potter. Even though you're stupid—"

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

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

"Only that one," Harry lied.

"Perhaps," Snape said, his cold dark eyes narrowing slightly, "maybe you're really enjoying these dreams, Potter." Maybe they make you feel a special kind of importance?"

"No, they don't," Harry said, his jaw tensed, his fingers gripping his wand tightly.

"Well, then, Potter," Snape said coldly, "since you're neither special nor important, then what the Mysterio and his Death Eaters are saying has nothing to do with you. ”

"No—that's your job, isn't it?" Harry called out to him. He didn't want to say it, but in anger he blurted out. For a long time they glared at each other, and Harry had gone too far. But Snape had a strange, almost satisfied look on his face as he spoke.

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

A hundred Dementors swooped down on Harry across the lake. His face was distorted with concentration. They were closer, and Harry could see the black hole under their turban. He could still see Snape standing in front of him, staring at Harry and muttering to himself. For some reason, Snape became clearer and clearer, and the Dementors became more and more blurry.

Harry raised his wand. "Divine Guard!"

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 snarling at a cowering woman, a dark-haired boy crying in the corner, a teenager with greasy hair sitting alone in a dark room, pointing his wand at the ceiling and shooting flies, a scrawny boy trying to jump on a broomstick while a girl laughing at him.

"That's enough!" Harry felt a hard push in his chest, and he stumbled a few steps back, crashing into a few shelves, hearing something break. Snape shuddered slightly, his face pale. Harry's back robe was soaking wet. One of the bottles he bumped into shattered, and something sticky was oozing from it.

"Revert to the way it was," Snape hissed, and the bottle was instantly restored to its original state.

"All right, Potter. There has been progress. Snape gasped slightly, he helped the meditation basin, and before class he put some memories in, as if to make sure they were still inside.

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

Harry didn't say anything; He must have entered Snape's memories and seen 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?" said Snape.

It scared Harry a little, he was going to pay for what had just happened, he was sure. They stood on either side of the table, and Harry felt it was harder to clear his mind now.

"I'll count three," Snape said, raising his wand again. "One-two-" Before Harry could concentrate to clear his mind, he heard Snape shout, "Dementor Mind-"

The scene changed quickly, he raced through the hallway to the Department of Mysteries, past the blank walls, past the torches—the black door was there, it opened wider, he ran so fast that he almost rushed up, and he stood in front of it again, and saw the pale blue light in the crack of the door—the door opened!

He walked through the door and came to a circular room, the walls were black all around, the floor below was also black, only the blue candlelight was lit, and there were many doors around it.

"Potter!" Harry opened his eyes, and he was lying unconscious on the ground again, gasping for breath as if he had really run through the long hallway leading to the Department of Mysteries, had really run through the black door, and had found the round room.

"You explain!" Snape shouted, looking at him from above, looking unusually angry.

"I, I don't know what's wrong," Harry said matter-of-factly, standing up. He had a lump on the back of his head that had been left from hitting the ground when he fell. "I never saw it, I mean, I told you, I dreamed of a door that never opened—"

"You're not trying hard enough!" Snape looked angrier for some reason than he had been when Harry had entered his memory two minutes earlier. "You're too lazy, too conceited, Potter, it's just a little miracle, the Dark Lord ......"

"So, can you tell me, sir?" said Harry, angrily starting to rage again. "Why are you called Voldemort, the Dark Lord? I've only heard Death Eaters call him that. ”

Snape opened his mouth in anger—the screams of a woman coming from outside. Snape jumped, glaring at the ceiling.

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

"Did you see anything unusual when you came down, Potter?"