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Chapter 601: Unforgotten Memories
Chapter 601: Unforgotten Memories (Requesting Votes!)
Snape stared straight at Harry, his expression inscrutable.
"I have no idea what you're talking about", he said coldly. "You know!" Harry exclaimed, leaning in. Snape flicked his sleeve, nearly hitting Harry, but he didn't even look. Instead, he turned and walked away. Harry hurried a few steps and blocked his path again.
Ron and Hermione quickly positioned themselves between the two, leaving Harry and Snape glaring at each other from opposite sides.
"But—Professor Snape, we won't give up", Hermione said, her voice deliberately flattering. "To avoid drawing attention, we should find a more private place."
Snape, Harry, and Ron followed her gaze to the Great Hall, where a group of students were excitedly rushing out, chattering and pushing each other, clearly elated that the exams were over.
Seamus Finnigan, leading the group, spotted Harry and waved excitedly. "Hey, Harry! You're okay?"
The few in the entrance hall quietly turned away. "Professor?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"Follow me", Snape said, his voice brusque. He led the way, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed closely. They descended the stairs to the castle's dungeons and soon arrived at Snape's office.
"Bang!"
Snape slammed the door shut, and the room grew dim. Hermione was about to speak when Snape barked, "Silence, you foolish girl!" He suddenly turned to Harry, so quickly that Harry almost thought he would strain his neck. "Do you know what Occlumency is protecting you from?"
"I do", Harry said calmly. "I also know that both Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Hup have been working to bring down Voldemort, just as my parents did. But I'm not the helpless infant I was fifteen years ago. I am a warrior now."
"And I am too", Hermione added.
"We are all warriors", Ron chimed in quickly.
"Warriors", Snape repeated softly, his face contorting. "Warriors?" He shouted, his face twisted in a mad rage. "Then what am I? A coward—"
"You are a spy", Harry said. "It requires more patience and caution, as well as wisdom and courage. That's why we came to you. We trust you to assess the situation."
A moment of silence—
Snape opened his mouth and spoke in a hoarse voice, "What do you plan to do?"
Success! Harry suppressed his excitement and quickly laid out his plan. "I've thought about it carefully. I know Professor Hup taught me Occlumency to protect my mind from Voldemort's probing and manipulation, but in recent times, I've seen into Voldemort's thoughts—"
"He didn't know about your connection, but now he does!" Snape interrupted roughly.
"That's true", Harry agreed. "But have you considered how this connection happens?" Snape's eyes widened. "I have, sir. It only occurs when I am particularly tired, my mind is unguarded, and Voldemort's emotions are highly volatile. I believe both conditions must be met for our minds to temporarily connect."
Snape exhaled slowly.
"An interesting theory", he said dryly. "What inspiration does this give you?"
"I can influence him!" Harry said passionately. "During his duel with Headmaster Dumbledore! Think about it, he must be exerting every ounce of his strength, which is why he can't maintain Occlumency. If I can influence him, it might change the outcome of the duel."
"Influence the Dark Lord? Potter, do you know what you're saying? You're facing perhaps the most dangerous and powerful Dark Wizard in history—"
"The most powerful?" Harry sneered. "If we're judging by mastery of dark magic, he might deserve that title. But we're discussing something entirely different—a battle of wills."
Snape's face was expressionless.
"Since you insist, Potter."
"If I understand correctly, you want me to force my way into your mind, tearing down the barriers you've built with Occlumency—"
He pulled out his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said softly, "This will be very painful, like stirring your brain with a hot poker." Ron swallowed hard, "I believe it won't be long before you beg me to stop."
"Just this level of pain", Harry said, touching his scar, "I've experienced it many times."
"We'll see", Snape said. "Then, Legilimency!"
Before Harry could react, the office vanished, and scenes flashed rapidly before his eyes:
His eleventh birthday, drawing a birthday cake on the beach; Quirinus Quirrell turning to remove his hood, revealing Voldemort on the back of his head; stabbing the Basilisk with the Gryffindor Sword; a hundred Dementors surging toward him on the bridge; he, Ron, and Hermione tied to a tombstone, listening to Voldemort's speech; practicing the Killing Curse in the Black Family Manor's training room; Ginny approaching him with wide eyes...
No, Harry resisted in his mind. A sudden force emerged, and he pushed back with all his might. "Bang!" He came to, seeing Snape collide with a table. Harry panted, the veins on his temples throbbing.
Snape rubbed his back, his eyes flashing dangerously. Ron and Hermione, standing nearby, held their breath, fearing he would lash out in anger, but Snape only said coldly, "Very good, your defenses are solid, and your counterattack is effective. This means you'll suffer more—"
"Legilimency!"
This time, the intensity was much higher. Harry felt his mind being torn apart, and his counterattack was inevitable— "What is this, Potter?" Snape shouted, pointing to a shimmering magical barrier in mid-air.
"Sorry", Harry whispered. He didn't mean to do it; it was a reflex.
"Sorry?" Snape repeated, his voice mocking, then fierce. "Drop your wand, Potter."
Harry hesitated for two seconds, then walked to the corner and handed his wand to Ron.
"Relax, Harry, if he tries anything—"
"Stay out of it", Harry said.
"What—"
"Stay out of it. We need to succeed." Harry returned to his place and taunted Snape, "You're too cautious, are you afraid I'll get hurt? Don't worry, I've endured worse."
Snape's chest heaved, clearly furious. He glared at Harry, and for a moment, it seemed he would cast a hex. Harry smiled at him, and Snape, without another word, cast the spell for the third time: "Legilimency!"
Pain! Intense pain! Harry clutched his forehead, trying not to let tears fall. He mustered the strength Occlumency had given him, setting up layers of defenses. But without his wand, he could only rely on his willpower to resist Snape's intrusion. Soon, his defenses crumbled like soap bubbles in the sun. Harry fought with all his might, but he could only watch as his mind gradually opened to Snape...
Memories from his past flooded back—his life at the Dursleys, where he was invisible. The dark, spider-webbed cupboard, the oversized, ill-fitting clothes, the taped-up glasses, being chased up a tree by Aunt Marge's dog, being shoved into a trash can by Dudley and his friends... No, even more distant, he saw a green light, Voldemort, his mother... Lily Potter, pleading with Voldemort to spare her child...
"No—!"
Someone was shouting, like a wounded animal. Then Harry found himself in a new, unfamiliar place. Before he could react, scenes from the past began to unfold:
It was Snape—much younger—kneeling in ruins, holding a woman in his arms, devastated. A baby sat in a nearby crib, a lightning-bolt scar on its forehead.
The scene changed. On a desolate, cold mountaintop, a conversation took place, one that might never be known—
"That—That prophecy... The prophecy... Trelawney..."
Snape's face was pale.
"Yes, I see. How much did you tell Voldemort?"
The mountaintop vanished, and they were in the Headmaster's Office.
"I thought... you would... guarantee her... safety..."
"She and James trusted the wrong person... Her son is alive, with eyes just like his mother's, exactly the same. If you loved Lily Evans, don't let her sacrifice be in vain. Help me protect her son."
"...Don't tell anyone, Dumbledore! Only you and I must know! Swear it!"
Still in the office, but clearly a different day, closer to the present. Dumbledore raised his right hand and said to the sullen-faced Snape, "Felix is young; he doesn't understand—or doesn't want to understand—that everything has a price... Don't worry, it won't kill me."
"But the boy? When do you plan to tell him that he is a Horcrux, that his sole purpose is to die?"
"Not yet", Dumbledore said sternly. "I've made some preparations, but they are far from sufficient. We can't tell him now."
The office vanished, and the new scene formed slowly, so slowly that Harry had time to reflect on the memories he had seen. He was a Horcrux... destined to die... Then he found himself bathed in soft sunlight, a serene afternoon with a rosy glow. Harry stood at the edge of an almost deserted playground, and not far away, behind some bushes, stood a boy.
Harry almost thought this was a forgotten childhood memory, as the boy looked much like him—skinny, dressed in oversized, old clothes, with black, messy hair.
But the next second, Harry knew differently. The boy was watching two girls playing, one of whom—Harry stared at her striking green almond-shaped eyes—held a withered flower. She opened her palm, and the flower came to life, blooming in her hand.
"Enough!"
A voice exploded in Harry's ear, and he was thrown to the ground. He opened his eyes to see Snape hunched over, his body swaying before he finally knelt down, just as Harry had seen in his memories, but this time, he held nothing in his arms.
Snape and Harry panted heavily, staring deeply into each other's eyes, as if seeing each other for the first time.
Harry's mind was a chaotic mess, the information he had extracted from Snape's memories more shocking than any previous Legilimency session. Snape was the root cause of his suffering, his feelings for Lily, his Patronus, and his conversations with Dumbledore... He was a Horcrux, destined to die.
I am a Horcrux. Harry stared at Snape, and everything made sense. His scar, his Parseltongue, his unusual connection with Voldemort. Dumbledore knew, and Professor Hup... might know, but they said nothing.
So that's why they treated him so kindly. Harry thought bitterly. People are always more tolerant of the dead.
"Harry, Harry! What's wrong?"
Harry looked up, his eyes vacant, at Ron and Hermione. Ron glared at Snape, shouting, "What did he do to you? Harry, what did he do?"
Harry took several deep breaths, trying to suppress the chaos of emotions. Now wasn't the time to dwell on this. He needed to make a decision... but it wasn't easy.
"Oh—please, there must be something—"
Hermione rummaged through her beaded bag, pulling out various bottles and vials, but Harry stopped her.
"I—I'm fine", he muttered, his throat constricted.
Harry stared at the two of them, slowly getting to his feet. He looked at the slumped Snape and said hoarsely:
"Then—continue."
"Continue?" Snape repeated slowly, his mind seemingly frozen by the cold floor, unable to grasp the simple sentence.
"Yes, you heard me, Professor Snape. We continue." Harry said almost coldly, not sure why he could remain rational. Perhaps it was the intense desire to see that person.
Suddenly, his scar began to throb without warning, and he was dragged into another perspective—Voldemort's.
Harry envied the other 'himself'.
He was wielding a beautiful and deadly wand, free and unrestrained, casting powerful spells without hesitation. The Snake Wand hummed with satisfaction, mirroring its master's mood. Voldemort was elated; he had finally gained the upper hand over Dumbledore, holding the absolute advantage.
"Your power has waned too much, Dumbledore! You seem to have a few tricks left, but your body can't support it!"
Voldemort hissed, his position constantly shifting, conjuring terrifying black flames from the Snake Wand. The trees, rocks, and earth in the valley turned to ash upon contact.
Dumbledore's breathing was heavy, his eyes half-closed, and a fine layer of sweat covered his wrinkled face.
His condition was exactly as expected, sliding into a low point that was fatally tempting to Voldemort, enough to awaken his greedy nature. But Dumbledore had miscalculated one thing—
Voldemort had finally mastered the Snake Wand, left by his ancestor Salazar Slytherin, and was using its full power.
Dumbledore's old wand, however, contributed very little.
As Voldemort said, Dumbledore did have a few tricks, but revealing them required time. He moved his wand calmly—almost elegantly—deflecting the powerful spells from all directions.
But both Voldemort and the Harry hiding behind him could see that the old man seemed truly aged, his movements sluggish, his reactions slower than his opponent's, struggling to keep up with the relentless onslaught.
Why doesn't he summon Fawkes? Harry thought dispassionately, watching Dumbledore falter. Is this the man who caused all this? Who changed their fate forever?
He went to such lengths to ensure my death.
At that moment, Harry's and Voldemort's emotions seemed to overlap. He waved the Snake Wand, shattering the earth and cutting through a protruding rock, the sheer force of the magic nearly splitting the valley in two. Debris and soil were thrown high into the air. More sunlight filtered through the cracks, and Voldemort (Harry) narrowed his eyes, staring at the old man who seemed about to collapse.
He looked so weak, as if even the simplest Killing Curse could end his life.
The snake-like face twisted into a cruel smile, his excitement nearly overwhelming. Years of enmity—years of waiting for this moment. He raised his wand slowly—
"Harry! Harry!" At Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione called out, noticing Harry's sudden stillness and the intense hatred in his eyes.
"Leavealone!" Snape said, getting to his feet.
"But—"
Hermione looked helplessly at Snape, then at Harry, stepping aside. When Snape finally saw Harry's state, he gasped. Harry's green eyes were bloodshot, his pupils dilating into snake-like slits.
"Harry! Wake up!" Ron shouted directly into his ear.
Harry ignored him, raising his right hand—though it held no wand, he made the motion to cast a spell. "Harry!" Ron and Hermione shook him desperately, knowing the situation was extremely dangerous.
Harry's jaw moved, his lips trembling.
Hundreds of kilometers away, someone connected to him was making the same motion—
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expecto Patronum!"
(End of Chapter)
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