Kreacher, it transpired, had been lurking in the attic. Sirius said he had found him up there, covered in dust, no doubt looking for more relics of the Black family to hide in his cupboard. Though Sirius seemed satisfied with this story, it made Harry uneasy. Kreacher seemed to be in a better mood on his reappearance, his bitter muttering had subsided somewhat and he submitted to orders more docilely than usual, though once or twice Harry caught the house-elf staring at him avidly, but always looking quickly away whenever he saw that Harry had noticed.
Harry did not mention his vague suspicions to Sirius, whose cheerfulness was evaporating fast now that Christmas was over. As the date of their departure back to Hogwarts drew nearer, he became more and more prone to what Mrs. Weasley called ‘fits of the sullens', in which he would become taciturn and grumpy, often withdrawing to Buckbeak's room for hours at a time. His gloom seeped through the house, oozing under doorways like some noxious gas, so that all of them became infected by it.
Harry didn't want to leave Sirius again with only Kreacher for company; in fact, for the first time in his life, he was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. Going back to school would mean placing himself once again under the tyranny of Dolores Umbridge, who had no doubt managed to force through another dozen decrees in their absence; there was no Quidditch to look forward to now that he had been banned, there was every likelihood that their burden of homework would increase as the exams drew even nearer; and Dumbledore remained as remote as ever. In fact, if it hadn't been for the DA, Harry thought he might have begged Sirius to let him leave Hogwarts and remain in Grimmauld Place.
Then, on the very last day of the holidays, something happened that made Harry positively dread his return to school.
‘Harry, dear,’ said Mrs. Weasley poking her head into his and Ron's bedroom, where the pair of them were playing wizard chess watched by Hermione, Ginny and Crookshanks, ‘could you come down to the kitchen? Professor Snape would like a word with you.’
Harry did not immediately register what she had said; one of his castles was engaged in a violent tussle with a pawn of Ron's and he was egging it on enthusiastically.
‘Squash him— squash him, he's only a pawn, you idiot. Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, what did you say?’
‘Professor Snape, dear. In the kitchen. He'd like a word.’
Harry's mouth fell open in horror. He looked around at Ron, Hermione and Ginny, all of whom were gaping back at him. Crookshanks, whom Hermione had been restraining with difficulty for the past quarter of an hour, leapt gleefully on to the board and set the pieces running for cover, squealing at the top of their voices.
‘Snape?’ said Harry blankly.
‘Professor Snape, dear,’ said Mrs. Weasley reprovingly. ‘Now come on, quickly, he says he can't stay long.’
‘What's he want with you?’ said Ron, looking unnerved as Mrs. Weasley withdrew from the room. ‘You haven't done anything, have you?’
‘No!’ said Harry indignantly, racking his brains to think what he could have done that would make Snape pursue him to Grimmauld Place. Had his last piece of homework perhaps earned a ‘T'?
A minute or two later, he pushed open the kitchen door to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on the table in front of Sirius.
‘Er,’ said Harry, to announce his presence.
Snape looked around at him, his face framed between curtains of greasy black hair.
‘Sit down, Potter.’
‘You know,’ said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, ‘I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see.’
An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table.
‘I was supposed to see you alone, Potter,’ said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, ‘but Black—’
‘I'm his godfather,’ said Sirius, louder than ever.
‘I am here on Dumbledore's orders.’ said Snape, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish, ‘but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel ... involved.’
‘What's that supposed to mean?’ said Sirius, letting his chair fall back on to all four legs with a loud bang.
‘Merely that I am sure you must feel—ah—frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful,’ Snape laid a delicate stress on the word, ‘for the Order.’
It was Sirius's turn to flush. Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to Harry.
‘The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term.’
‘Study what?’ said Harry blankly.
Snape's sneer became more pronounced.
‘Occlumency, Potter. The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one.’
Harry's heart began to pump very fast indeed. Defence against external penetration? But he was not being possessed, they had all agreed on that ...
‘Why do I have to study Occlu—thing?’ he blurted out.
‘Because the Headmaster thinks it a good idea,’ said Snape smoothly. ‘You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘Who's going to be teaching me?’
Snape raised an eyebrow.
‘I am,’ he said.
Harry had the horrible sensation that his insides were melting.
Extra lessons with Snape—what on earth had he done to deserve this? He looked quickly round at Sirius for support.
‘Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?’ asked Sirius aggressively. ‘Why you?’
‘I suppose because it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks,’ said Snape silkily. ‘I assure you I did not beg for the job.’ He got to his feet. ‘I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them.’
He turned to leave, his black travelling cloak billowing behind him.
‘Wait a moment,’ said Sirius, sitting up straighter in his chair.
Snape turned back to face them, sneering.
‘I am in rather a hurry, Black. Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time.’
‘I'll get to the point, then,’ said Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape who, Harry noticed, balled his fist in the pocket of his cloak over what Harry was sure was the handle of his wand. ‘If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to.’
‘How touching,’ Snape sneered. ‘But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?’
‘Yes, I have,’ said Sirius proudly.
‘Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him,’ Snape said sleekly.
Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius's wand-tip to his face.
‘Sirius!’ said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him.
‘I've warned you, Snivelus,’ said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, ‘I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better—’
‘Oh, but why don't you tell him so?’ whispered Snape. ‘Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?’
‘Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?’
‘Speaking of dogs,’ said Snape softly, ‘did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform ... gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?’
Sirius raised his wand.
‘NO!’ Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them. ‘Sirius, don't!’
‘Are you calling me a coward?’ roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge.
‘Why, yes, I suppose I am,’ said Snape.
‘Harry—get— out—of—it!’ snarled Sirius, pushing him aside with his free hand.
The kitchen door opened and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, came inside, all looking very happy, with Mr. Weasley walking proudly in their midst dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas covered by a mackintosh.
‘Cured!’ he announced brightly to the kitchen at large. ‘Completely cured!’
He and all the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking towards the door with their wands pointing into each other's faces and Harry immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each, trying to force them apart.
‘Merlin's beard,’ said Mr. Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, ‘what's going on here?’
Both Sirius and Snape lowered their wands. Harry looked from one to the other. Each wore an expression of utmost contempt, yet the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses. Snape pocketed his wand, turned on his heel and swept back across the kitchen, passing the Weasleys without comment. At the door he looked back.
‘Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter.’
And he was gone. Sirius glared after him, his wand at his side.
‘What's been going on?’ asked Mr. Weasley again.
‘Nothing, Arthur,’ said Sirius, who was breathing heavily as though he had just run a long distance. ‘Just a friendly little chat between two old school friends.’ With what looked like an enormous effort, he smiled. ‘So ... you're cured? That's great news, really great.’
‘Yes, isn't it?’ said Mrs. Weasley, leading her husband forward to a chair. ‘Healer Smethwyck worked his magic in the end, found an antidote to whatever that snake's got in its fangs, and Arthur's learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine, haven't you, dear?’ she added, rather menacingly.
‘Yes, Molly dear,’ said Mr. Weasley meekly.
‘That night's meal should have been a cheerful one, with Mr. Weasley back amongst them. Harry could tell Sirius was trying to make it so, yet when his godfather was not forcing himself to laugh loudly at Fred and George's jokes or offering everyone more food, his face fell back into a moody, brooding expression. Harry was separated from him by Mundungus and Mad-Eye, who had dropped in to offer Mr. Weasley their congratulations. He wanted to talk to Sirius, to tell him he shouldn't listen to a word Snape said, that Snape was goading him deliberately and that the rest of them didn't think Sirius was a coward for doing as Dumbledore told him and remaining in Grimmauld Place. But he had no opportunity to do so, and, eyeing the ugly look on Sirius's face, Harry wondered occasionally whether he would have dared to mention it even if he had the chance. Instead, he told Ron and Hermione under his voice about having to take Occlumency lessons with Snape.
‘Dumbledore wants to stop you having those dreams about Voldemort,’ said Hermione at once. ‘Well, you won't be sorry not to have them any more, will you?’
‘Extra lessons with Snape?’ said Ron, sounding aghast. ‘I'd rather have the nightmares!’
They were to return to Hogwarts on the Knight Bus the following day, escorted once again by Tonks and Lupin, both of whom were eating breakfast in the kitchen when Harry, Ron and Hermione came down next morning. The adults seemed to have been mid-way through a whispered conversation as Harry opened the door; all of them looked round hastily and fell silent.
After a hurried breakfast, they all pulled on jackets and scarves against the chilly grey January morning. Harry had an unpleasant constricted sensation in his chest; he did not want to say goodbye to Sirius. He had a bad feeling about this parting; he didn't know when they would next see each other and he felt it was incumbent upon him to say something to Sirius to stop him doing anything stupid—Harry was worried that Snape's accusation of cowardice had stung Sirius so badly he might even now be planning some foolhardy trip beyond Grimmauld Place. Before he could think of what to say, however, Sirius had beckoned him to his side.
‘I want you to take this,’ he said quietly, thrusting a badly wrapped package roughly the size of a paperback book into Harry's hands.
‘What is it?’ Harry asked.
‘A way of letting me know if Snape's giving you a hard time. No, don't open it in here!’ said Sirius, with a wary look at Mrs. Weasley, who was trying to persuade the twins to wear hand-knitted mittens. ‘I doubt Molly would approve—but I want you to use it if you need me, all right?’
‘OK,’ said Harry, stowing the package away in the inside pocket of his jacket, but he knew he would never use whatever it was. It would not be he, Harry, who lured Sirius from his place of safety, no matter how foully Snape treated him in their forthcoming Occlumency classes.
‘Let's go, then,’ said Sirius, clapping Harry on the shoulder and smiling grimly, and before Harry could say anything else, they were heading upstairs, stopping before the heavily chained and bolted front door, surrounded by Weasleys.
‘Goodbye, Harry, take care,’ said Mrs. Weasley, hugging him.
‘See you, Harry, and keep an eye out for snakes for me!’ said Mr. Weasley genially, shaking his hand.
‘Right—yeah,’ said Harry distractedly; it was his last chance to tell Sirius to be careful; he turned, looked into his godfather's face and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so Sirius was giving him a brief, one-armed hug, and saying gruffly, ‘Look after yourself, Harry.’ Next moment, Harry found himself being shunted out into the icy winter air, with Tonks (today heavily disguised as a tall, tweedy woman with iron-grey hair) chivvying him down the steps.
The door of number twelve slammed shut behind them. They followed Lupin down the front steps. As he reached the pavement, Harry looked round. Number twelve was shrinking rapidly as those on either side of it stretched sideways, squeezing it out of sight. One blink later, it had gone.
‘Come on, the quicker we get on the bus the better,’ said Tonks, and Harry thought there was nervousness in the glance she threw around the square. Lupin flung out his right arm.
BANG.
A violently purple, triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost, which jumped backwards out of its way.
A thin, pimply, jug-eared youth in a purple uniform leapt down on to the pavement and said, ‘Welcome to the—’
‘Yes, yes, we know, thank you,’ said Tonks swiftly. ‘On, on, get on—’
And she shoved Harry forwards towards the steps, past the conductor, who goggled at Harry as he passed.
’ ‘Ere—it's ‘Arry—!’
‘If you shout his name I will curse you into oblivion,’ muttered Tonks menacingly, now shunting Ginny and Hermione forwards.
‘I've always wanted to go on this thing,’ said Ron happily, joining Harry on board and looking around.
It had been evening the last time Harry had travelled by Knight Bus and its three decks had been full of brass bedsteads. Now, in the early morning, it was crammed with an assortment of mismatched chairs grouped haphazardly around windows. Some of these appeared to have fallen over when the bus stopped abruptly in Grimmauld Place; a few witches and wizards were still getting to their feet, grumbling, and somebody's shopping bag had slid the length of the bus: an unpleasant mixture of frogspawn, cockroaches and custard creams was scattered all over the floor.
‘Looks like we'll have to split up,’ said Tonks briskly, looking a.round for empty chairs. ‘Fred, George and Ginny, if you just take those seats at the back ... Remus can stay with you.’
She, Harry, Ron and Hermione proceeded up to the very top deck, where there were two unoccupied chairs at the very front of the bus and two at the back. Stan Shunpike, the conductor, followed Harry and Ron eagerly to the back. Heads turned as Harry passed and, when he sat down, he saw all the faces flick back to the front again.
As Harry and Ron handed Stan eleven Sickles each, the bus set off again, swaying ominously. It rumbled around Grimmauld Place, weaving on and off the pavement, then, with another tremendous BANG, they were all flung backwards; Ron's chair toppled right over and Pigwidgeon, who had been on his lap, burst out of his cage and flew twittering wildly up to the front of the bus where he fluttered down on to Hermione's shoulder instead. Harry, who had narrowly avoided falling by seizing a candle bracket, looked out of the window: they were now speeding down what appeared to be a motorway.
‘Just outside Birmingham,’ said Stan happily, answering Harry's unasked question as Ron struggled up from the floor. ‘You keepin’ well, then, ‘Arry? I seen your name in the paper loads over the summer, but it weren't never nuffink very nice. I said to Ern, I said, ‘e didn't seem like a nutter when we met ‘im, just goes to show, dunnit?’
He handed over their tickets and continued to gaze, enthralled, at Harry. Apparently, Stan did not care how nutty somebody was, if they were famous enough to be in the paper. The Knight Bus swayed alarmingly, overtaking a line of cars on the inside. Looking towards the front of the bus, Harry saw Hermione cover her eyes with her hands, Pigwidgeon swaying happily on her shoulder.
BANG.
Chairs slid backwards again as the Knight Bus jumped from the Birmingham motorway to a quiet country lane full of hairpin bends. Hedgerows on either side of the road were leaping out of their way as they mounted the verges. From here they moved to a main street in the middle of a busy town, then to a viaduct surrounded by tall hills, then to a windswept road between high-rise flats, each time with a loud BANG.
‘I've changed my mind,’ muttered Ron, picking himself up from the floor for the sixth time, ‘I never want to ride on this thing again.’
‘Listen, it's ‘Ogwarts stop after this,’ said Stan brightly, swaying towards them. ‘That bossy woman up front ‘oo got on with you, she's given us a little tip to move you up the queue. We're just gonna let Madam Marsh off first, though—there was a retching sound from downstairs, followed by a horrible spattering noise— she's not feeling ‘er best.’
A few minutes later, the Knight Bus screeched to a halt outside a small pub, which squeezed itself out of the way to avoid a collision. They could hear Stan ushering the unfortunate Madam Marsh out of the bus and the relieved murmurings of her fellow passengers on the second deck. The bus moved on again, gathering speed, until—
BANG.
They were rolling through a snowy Hogsmeade. Harry caught a glimpse of the Hog's Head down its side street, the severed boar's head sign creaking in the wintry wind. Flecks of snow hit the large window at the front of the bus. At last they rolled to a halt outside the gates to Hogwarts.
Lupin and Tonks helped them off the bus with their luggage, then got off to say goodbye. Harry glanced up at the three decks of the Knight Bus and saw all the passengers staring down at them, noses flat against the windows.
‘You'll be safe once you're in the grounds,’ said Tonks, casting a careful eye around at the deserted road. ‘Have a good term, OK?’
‘Look after yourselves,’ said Lupin, shaking hands all round and reaching Harry last. ‘And listen ...’ he lowered his voice while the rest of them exchanged last-minute goodbyes with Tonks, ‘Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is a superb Occlumens and we all—Sirius included—want you to learn to protect yourself, so work hard, all right?’
‘Yeah, all right,’ said Harry heavily, looking up into Lupin's prematurely lined face. ‘See you, then.’
The six of them struggled up the slippery drive towards the castle, dragging their trunks. Hermione was already talking about knitting a few elf hats before bedtime. Harry glanced back when they reached the oaken front doors; the Knight Bus had already gone and he half-wished, given what was coming the following evening, that he was still on board.
Harry spent most of the next day dreading the evening. His morning double-Potions lesson did nothing to dispel his trepidation, as Snape was as unpleasant as ever. His mood was further lowered by the DA members constantly approaching him in the corridors between classes, asking hopefully if there would be a meeting that night.
‘I'll let you know in the usual way when the next one is,’ Harry said over and over again, ‘but I can't do it tonight, I've got to go to—er—remedial Potions.’
‘You take remedial Potions?’ asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry in the Entrance Hall after lunch. ‘Good Lord, you must be terrible. Snape doesn't usually give extra lessons, does he?’
As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him.
‘Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here,’ he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith's shoulder blades.
‘Forget it,’ said Harry dismally. ‘It's what everyone's going to think, isn't it? That I'm really stup—’
‘Hi, Harry,’ said a voice behind him. He turned round and found Cho standing there.
‘Oh,’ said Harry as his stomach leapt uncomfortably. ‘Hi.’
‘We'll be in the library, Harry,’ said Hermione firmly as she seized Ron above the elbow and dragged him off towards the marble staircase.
‘Had a good Christmas?’ asked Cho.
‘Yeah, not bad,’ said Harry.
‘Mine was pretty quiet,’ said Cho. For some reason, she was looking rather embarrassed. ‘Erm ... there's another Hogsmeade trip next month, did you see the notice?’
‘What? Oh, no, I haven't checked the noticeboard since I got back.’
‘Yes, it's on Valentines Day ...’
‘Right,’ said Harry, wondering why she was telling him this. ‘Well, I suppose you want to— ?’
‘Only if you do,’ she said eagerly.
Harry stared. He had been about to say, ‘I suppose you want to know when the next DA meeting is?’ but her response did not seem to fit.
‘I—er—’ he said.
‘Oh, it's OK if you don't,’ she said, looking mortified. ‘Don't worry. I—I'll see you around.’
She walked away. Harry stood staring after her, his brain working frantically. Then something clunked into place.
‘Cho! Hey—CHO!’
He ran after her, catching her halfway up the marble staircase.
‘Er—d'you want to come into Hogsmeade with me on Valentine's Day?’
‘Oooh, yes!’ she said, blushing crimson and beaming at him.
‘Right ... well ... that's settled then,’ said Harry, and feeling that the day was not going to be a complete loss after all, he virtually bounced off to the library to pick up Ron and Hermione before their afternoon lessons.
By six o'clock that evening, however, even the glow of having successfully asked out Cho Chang could not lighten the ominous feelings that intensified with every step Harry took towards Snape's office.
He paused outside the door when he reached it, wishing he were almost anywhere else, then, taking a deep breath, he knocked and entered.
The shadowy room was lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which slimy bits of animals and plants were suspended in variously coloured potions. In one corner stood the cupboard full of ingredients that Snape had once accused Harry—not without reason—of robbing. Harry's attention was drawn towards the desk, however, where a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols lay in a pool of candlelight. Harry recognised it at once—it was Dumbledore's Pensieve. Wondering what on earth it was doing there, he jumped when Snape's cold voice came out of the shadows.
‘Shut the door behind you, Potter.’
Harry did as he was told, with the horrible feeling that he was imprisoning himself. When he turned back into the room, Snape had moved into the light and was pointing silently at the chair opposite his desk. Harry sat down and so did Snape, his cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Harry, dislike etched in every line of his face.
‘Well, Potter, you know why you are here,’ he said. ‘The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than at Potions.’
‘Right,’ said Harry tersely.
‘This may not be an ordinary class, Potter,’ said Snape, his eyes narrowed malevolently, ‘but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me “sir” or “Professor” at all times.’
‘Yes ... sir,’ said Harry.
Snape continued to survey him through narrowed eyes for a moment, then said, ‘Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence.’
‘And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?’ said Harry looking directly into Snape's eyes and wondering whether Snape would answer.
Snape looked back at him for a moment and then said contemptuously, ‘Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency —’
‘What's that? Sir?’
‘It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind—’
‘He can read minds?’ said Harry quickly, his worst fears confirmed.
‘You have no subtlety, Potter,’ said Snape, his dark eyes glittering. ‘You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker.’
Snape paused for a moment, apparently to savour the pleasure of insulting Harry, before continuing.
‘Only Muggles talk of “mind-reading". The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader, the mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter— or at least, most minds are.’ He smirked. ‘It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so can utter falsehoods in his presence without detection.’
Whatever Snape said, Legilimency sounded like mind-reading to Harry, and he didn't like the sound of it at all.
‘So he could know what we're thinking right now? Sir?’
‘The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them,’ said Snape. ‘Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency.’
‘Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?’
Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so.
‘The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable —when you are asleep, for instance—you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The Headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord.’
Harry's heart was pumping fast again. None of this added up.
‘But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop it?’ he asked abruptly. ‘I don't like it much, but it's been useful, hasn't it? I mean ... I saw that snake attack Mr Weasley and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save him, would he? Sir?’
Snape stared at Harry for a few moments, still tracing his mouth with his finger. When he spoke again, it was slowly and deliberately, as though he weighed every word.
‘It appears that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions, and sharing his thoughts, without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas—’
‘The one with the snake and Mr. Weasley?’
‘Do not interrupt me, Potter,’ said Snape in a dangerous voice. ‘As I was saying, the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord's thoughts—’
‘I saw inside the snake's head, not his!’
‘I thought I just told you not to interrupt me, Potter?’
But Harry did not care if Snape was angry; at last he seemed to be getting to the bottom of this business; he had moved forwards in his chair so that, without realising it, he was perched on the very edge, tense as though poised for flight.
‘How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?’
‘Do not say the Dark Lord's name!’ spat Snape.
There was a nasty silence. They glared at each other across the Pensieve.
‘Professor Dumbledore says his name.’ said Harry quietly.
‘Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard,’ Snape muttered. ‘While he may feel secure enough to use the name ... the rest of us ...’ He rubbed his left forearm, apparently unconsciously, on the spot where Harry knew the Dark Mark was burned into his skin.
‘I just wanted to know,’ Harry began again, forcing his voice back to politeness, ‘why—’
‘You seem to have visited the snake's mind because that was where the Dark Lord was at that particular moment,’ snarled Snape. ‘He was possessing the snake at the time and so you dreamed you were inside it, too.’
‘And Vol—he— realised I was there?’
‘It seems so,’ said Snape coolly.
‘How do you know?’ said Harry urgently. ‘Is this just Professor Dumbledore guessing, or— ?’
‘I told you,’ said Snape, rigid in his chair, his eyes slits, ‘to call me “sir".
‘Yes, sir,’ said Harry impatiently, ‘but how do you know—'?
‘It is enough that we know,’ said Snape repressively. ‘The important point is that the Dark Lord is now aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts and feelings. He has also deduced that the process is likely to work in reverse; that is to say, he has realised that he might be able to access your thoughts and feelings in return—’
‘And he might try and make me do things?’ asked Harry. ‘Sir?’ he added hurriedly.
‘He might,’ said Snape, sounding cold and unconcerned. ‘Which brings us back to Occlumency.’
Snape pulled out his wand from an inside pocket of his robes and Harry tensed in his chair, but Snape merely raised the wand to his temple and placed its tip into the greasy roots of his hair. When he withdrew it, some silvery substance came away, stretching from temple to wand like a thick gossamer strand, which broke as he pulled the wand away from it and fell gracefully into the Pensieve, where it swirled silvery-white, neither gas nor liquid. Twice more, Snape raised the wand to his temple and deposited the silvery substance into the stone basin, then, without offering any explanation of his behaviour, he picked up the Pensieve carefully, removed it to a shelf out of their way and returned to face Harry with his wand held at the ready.
‘Stand up and take out your wand, Potter.’
Harry got to his feet, feeling nervous. They faced each other with the desk between them.
‘You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of,’ said Snape.
‘And what are you going to do?’ Harry asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively.
‘I am about to attempt to break into your mind,’ said Snape softly. ‘We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this ... brace yourself, now. Legilimens!’
Snape had struck before Harry was ready, before he had even begun to summon any force of resistance. The office swam in front of his eyes and vanished; image after image was racing through his mind like a flickering film so vivid it blinded him to his surroundings.
He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy ... he was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn ... he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin ... Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair ... a hundred dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake ... Cho Chang was drawing nearer to him under the mistletoe ...
No, said a voice inside Harry's head, as the memory of Cho drew nearer, you're not watching that, you're not watching it, it's private—
He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape's office had come back into view and he realised that he had fallen to the floor; one of his knees had collided painfully with the leg of Snape's desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark.
‘Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?’ asked Snape coolly.
‘No,’ said Harry bitterly, getting up from the floor.
‘I thought not,’ said Snape, watching him closely. ‘You let me get in too far. You lost control.’
‘Did you see everything I saw?’ Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.
‘Flashes of it,’ said Snape, his lip curling. ‘To whom did the dog belong?’
‘My Aunt Marge,’ Harry muttered, hating Snape.
‘Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been,’ said Snape, raising his wand once more. ‘You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand.’
‘I'm trying,’ said Harry angrily, ‘but you're not telling me how!’
‘Manners, Potter,’ said Snape dangerously. ‘Now, I want you to close your eyes.’
Harry threw him a filthy look before doing as he was told. He did not like the idea of standing there with his eyes shut while Snape faced him, carrying a wand.
‘Clear your mind, Potter,’ said Snape's cold voice. ‘Let go of all emotion ...’
But Harry's anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs ...
‘You're not doing it, Potter ... you will need more discipline than this ... focus, now ...’
Harry tried to empty his mind, tried not to think, or remember, or feel ...
‘Let's go again ... on the count of three ... one—two—three—Legilimens!’
A great black dragon was rearing in front of him ... his father and mother were waving at him out of an enchanted mirror ... Cedric Diggory was lying on the ground with blank eyes staring at him ...
‘NOOOOOOO!’
Harry was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull.
‘Get up!’ said Snape sharply. ‘Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!’
Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was.
‘I—am—making —an—effort,’ he said through clenched teeth.
‘I told you to empty yourself of emotion!’
‘Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment,’ Harry snarled.
‘Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!’ said Snape savagely. ‘Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily—weak people, in other words—they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!’
‘I am not weak,’ said Harry in a low voice, fury now pumping through him so that he thought he might attack Snape in a moment.
‘Then prove it! Master yourself!’ spat Snape. ‘Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!’
He was watching Uncle Vernon hammering the letterbox shut ... a hundred dementors were drifting across the lake in the grounds towards him ... he was running along a windowless passage with Mr. Weasley ... they were drawing nearer to the plain black door at the end of the corridor ... Harry expected to go through it ... but Mr. Weasley led him off to the left, down a flight of stone steps ...
‘I KNOW! I KNOW!’
He was on all fours again on Snape's office floor, his scar was prickling unpleasantly, but the voice that had just issued from his mouth was triumphant. He pushed himself up again to find Snape storing at him, his wand raised. It looked as though, this time, Snape had lifted the spell before Harry had even tried to fight back.
‘What happened then, Potter?’ he asked, eyeing Harry intently.
‘I saw—I remembered,’ Harry panted. ‘I've just realised ...’
‘Realised what?’ asked Snape sharply.
Harry did not answer at once; he was still savouring the moment of blinding realisation as he rubbed his forehead ...
He had been dreaming about a windowless corridor ending in a locked door for months, without once realising that it was a real place. Now, seeing the memory again, he knew that all along he had been dreaming about the corridor down which he had run with Mr. Weasley on the twelfth of August as they hurried to the courtrooms in the Ministry; it was the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries and Mr. Weasley had been there the night that he had been attacked by Voldemort's snake.
He looked up at Snape.
‘What's in the Department of Mysteries?’
‘What did you say?’ Snape asked quietly and Harry saw, with deep satisfaction, that Snape was unnerved.
‘I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, sir?’ Harry said.
‘And why,’ said Snape slowly, ‘would you ask such a thing?’
‘Because,’ said Harry, watching Snape's face closely, ‘that corridor I've just seen—I've been dreaming about it for months—I've just recognised it—it leads to the Department of Mysteries ... and I think Voldemort wants something from—’
‘I have told you not to say the Dark Lord's name!’
They glared at each other. Harry's scar seared again, but he did not care. Snape looked agitated; but when he spoke again he sounded as though he was trying to appear cool and unconcerned.
‘There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you. Do I make myself plain?’
‘Yes,’ Harry said, still rubbing his prickling scar, which was becoming more painful.
‘I want you back here same time on Wednesday. We will continue work then.’
‘Fine,’ said Harry. He was desperate to get out of Snape's office and find Ron and Hermione.
‘You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep; empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry, who was barely listening.
‘And be warned, Potter ... I shall know if you have not practised ...’
‘Right,’ Harry mumbled. He picked up his schoolbag, swung it over his shoulder and hurried towards the office door. As he opened it, he glanced back at Snape, who had his back to Harry and was scooping his own thoughts out of the Pensieve with the tip of his wand and replacing them carefully inside his own head. Harry left without another word, closing the door carefully behind him, his scar still throbbing painfully.
Harry found Ron and Hermione in the library, where they were working on Umbridge's most recent ream of homework. Other students, nearly all of them fifth-years, sat at lamp-lit tables nearby, noses close to books, quills scratching feverishly, while the sky outside the mullioned windows grew steadily blacker. The only other sound was the slight squeaking of one of Madam Pince's shoes, as the librarian prowled the aisles menacingly, breathing down the necks of those touching her precious books.
Harry felt shivery; his scar was still aching, he felt almost feverish.
When he sat down opposite Ron and Hermione, he caught sight of himself in the window opposite; he was very white and his scar seemed to be showing up more clearly than usual.
‘How did it go?’ Hermione whispered, and then, looking concerned. ‘Are you all right, Harry?’
‘Yeah ... fine ... I dunno,’ said Harry impatiently, wincing as pain shot through his scar again. ‘Listen ... I've just realised something ...’
And he told them what he had just seen and deduced.
‘So ... so are you saying ...’ whispered Ron, as Madam Pince swept past, squeaking slightly ‘that the weapon—the thing You-Know-Who's after—is in the Ministry of Magic?’
‘In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be,’ Harry whispered. ‘I saw that door when your dad took me down to the courtrooms for my hearing and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the snake bit him.’
Hermione let out a long, slow sigh.
‘Of course,’ she breathed.
‘Of course what?’ said Ron rather impatiently.
‘Ron, think about it... Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic ... it must have been that one, it's too much of a coincidence!’
‘How come Sturgis was trying to break in when he's on our side?’ said Ron.
‘Well, I don't know,’ Hermione admitted. ‘That is a bit odd ...’
‘So what's in the Department of Mysteries?’ Harry asked Ron. ‘Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?’
‘I know they call the people who work in there “Unspeakables",’ said Ron, frowning. ‘Because no one really seems to know what they do—weird place to have a weapon.’
‘It's not weird at all, it makes perfect sense,’ said Hermione. ‘It will be something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect ... Harry, are you sure you're all right?’
For Harry had just run both his hands hard over his forehead as though trying to iron it.
‘Yeah ... fine ...’ he said, lowering his hands, which were trembling. ‘I just feel a bit ... I don't like Occlumency much.’
‘I expect anyone would feel snaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again,’ said Hermione sympathetically. ‘Look, let's get back to the common room, we'll be a bit more comfortable there.’
But the common room was packed and full of shrieks of laughter and excitement; Fred and George were demonstrating their latest bit of joke shop merchandise.
‘Headless Hats!’ shouted George, as Fred waved a pointed hat decorated with a fluffy pink feather at the watching students. ‘Two Galleons each, watch Fred, now!’
Fred swept the hat on to his head, beaming. For a second he merely looked rather stupid; then both hat and head vanished.
Several girls screamed, but everyone else was roaring with laughter.
‘And off again!’ shouted George, and Fred's hand groped for a moment in what seemed to be thin air over his shoulder; then his head reappeared as he swept the pink-feathered hat from it.
‘How do those hats work, then?’ said Hermione, distracted from her homework and watching Fred and George closely. ‘I mean, obviously it's some kind of Invisibility Spell, but it's rather clever to have extended the field of invisibility beyond the boundaries of the charmed object ... I'd imagine the charm wouldn't have a very long life though.’
Harry did not answer; he was feeling ill.
‘I'm going to have to do this tomorrow,’ he muttered, pushing the books he had just taken out of his bag back inside it.
‘Well, write it in your homework planner then!’ said Hermione encouragingly. ‘So you don't forget!’
Harry and Ron exchanged looks as he reached into his bag, withdrew the planner and opened it tentatively.
‘Don't leave it till later, you big second-rater!’ chided the book as Harry scribbled down Umbridge's homework. Hermione beamed at it.
‘I think I'll go to bed,’ said Harry, stuffing the homework planner back into his bag and making a mental note to drop it in the fire the first opportunity he got.
He walked across the common room, dodging George, who tried to put a Headless Hat on him, and reached the peace and cool of the stone staircase to the boys’ dormitories. He was feeling sick again, just as he had the night he had had the vision of the snake, but thought that if he could just lie down for a while he would be all right.
He opened the door of his dormitory and was one step inside it when he experienced pain so severe he thought that someone must have sliced into the top of his head. He did not know where be was, whether he was standing or lying down, he did not even know his own name.
Maniacal laughter was ringing in his ears ... he was happier than he had been in a very long time ... jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant ... a wonderful, wonderful thing had happened ...
‘Harry? HARRY!’
Someone had hit him around the face. The insane laughter was punctuated with a cry of pain. The happiness was draining out of him, but the laughter continued ...
He opened his eyes and, as he did so, he became aware that the wild laughter was coming out of his own mouth. The moment he realised this, it died away; Harry lay panting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, the scar on his forehead throbbing horribly. Ron was bending over him, looking very worried.
‘What happened?’ he said.
‘I ... dunno ...’ Harry gasped, sitting up again. ‘He's really happy ... really happy ...’
‘You-Know-Who is?’
‘Something good's happened,’ mumbled Harry. He was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr. Weasley and felt very sick. ‘Something he's been hoping for.’
The words came, just as they had back in the Gryffindor changing room, as though a stranger was speaking them through Harry's mouth, yet he knew they were true. He took deep breaths, willing himself not to vomit all over Ron. He was very glad that Dean and Seamus were not here to watch this time.
‘Hermione told me to come and check on you,’ said Ron in a low voice, helping Harry to his feet. ‘She says your defences will be low at the moment, after Snape's been fiddling around with your mind ... still, I suppose it'll help in the long run, won't it?’ He looked doubtfully at Harry as he helped him towards his bed. Harry nodded without any conviction and slumped back on his pillows, aching all over from having fallen to the floor so often that evening, his scar still prickling painfully. He could not help feeling that his first foray into Occlumency had weakened his mind's resistance rather than strengthening it, and he wondered, with a feeling of great trepidation, what had happened to make Lord Voldemort the happiest he had been in fourteen years.
Kreacher，它得知后，在阁楼中潜藏着。 天狼星说他已经在那里的灰尘中发现他， 没有疑问，布莱克家的较多神圣的遗物藏在他的碗柜中。 虽然天狼星对这个房子感到满意，但它使哈利感到不安。 不过当Kreacher 再次出现时似乎有一个不错的心情， 他的苦楚地喃喃自语已经有些平息，而且他比平时更容易服从命令，虽然哈利有一两次看到了家养小精灵在热望地注视 着他， 但是总是在引起哈利的注意之后很快地离开。
哈利并不在意他对天狼星含糊的怀疑， 高兴的心情在圣诞节结束之后快速地散匿了。 当他们回霍格瓦彻的日期一日一日地逼近时，他越来越相信威斯里太太所说的“突如其来的愤怒”，他变得沉默寡言的和暴躁，时常用数小时的时间搬回到巴克比克的房间。他的忧郁飞出屋子，像一些有毒气体一样飞出了房子，所以他们全部都被它传染。
哈利不想再一次孤独地把 Kreacher 留给天狼星；事实上，在他生命中的第一次，他不在想回到霍格瓦彻。回到学校将意谓着将他自己再一次置身在德洛丽丝·昂布瑞吉的压迫统治之下，不用怀疑他能设法逃过他们另外强加的一大堆法令;没有魁地奇的企盼，他已经被禁止了；他们家庭作业的负担会当考试得逼近而与日俱增；而且丹伯多对他保持疏远的状态。事实上，假如它不是为防卫协会（Defence Association），哈利想他应该可以请求天狼星让他离开霍格瓦彻，继续在老房子呆着。
所以，在假日的最后几天，发生的一些事使哈利恐惧他回返到学校。
“哈利，亲爱的，”威斯里太太说道，把头部伸进了他和罗恩的卧室，他们正在玩巫师棋的地方，荷米恩在一旁观看。金妮和克鲁克山，“你可以下去到厨房吗？教授想要对你说一些话。”
哈利并没有马上记住她所说的话；他的一个城堡被罗恩的一个卒猛烈的攻击，而且他在兴奋地耸恿它。
“压扁他——压扁他，他只是一个卒，你真笨。对不起，威斯里太太，你刚才在说什么？”
“斯内普教授，亲爱的。 在厨房中， 他要对你说一些话。”
哈利的嘴极端厌恶地张开了。他在环视着罗恩、荷米恩和金妮，他们正在对他打哈欠。克鲁克山， 那个荷米恩在前十五分钟不容易抑制的，愉快地在会议桌上跳跃，在隐蔽的地方乱跑，发出比别人都大的嚎叫声。 “斯内普？”哈利茫然地说。
“斯内普教授，亲爱的，”威斯里太太责难似地说道。 “现在过去，快点，他说不能呆很久。” “他想对你作什么？”罗恩说，在威斯里太太走出房间之后，他看起来失去了力气。“你没有做任何事，是吗？”
“没有！”哈利愤怒地说，绞尽他的脑汁想他做了什么以至于使斯内普追到老房子来。因为他的最后一次作业得了“T”？
一两分钟后， 他推开了厨房的门，在长长的厨桌上找到了天狼星和斯内普，坐在相反的方向。他们之间因为互相厌恶对方而出现了沉默。一封信打开着放在天狼星之前桌子上。 “嗯，”哈利说道，来显示他的存在。
斯内普环视着他，他的脸被包围在油腻的黑色头发之间。
“坐下，波特。”
“你知道，”天狼星大声地说道，翘起他椅子后面的脚，对天花板说道，“如果你不是被派到这里，斯内普，我认为我将更喜欢这样。它是我的房子，你知道的。”
一个可怕的晕红遍布了斯内普苍白的脸。哈利坐在天狼星旁边的一张椅子上，穿过桌子面对着斯内普。
“我想单独见你，波特，”斯内普说道，熟悉的冷笑卷曲着他的嘴，“但是布莱克——”
“我是他的教父，”天狼星说道，用比平常大声音调。
“我是因为丹伯多的命令来这儿的，”斯内普说道，相反的，变成越来越安静而易怒，“但是尽所有的方法停留，布莱克，我知道你喜欢凭感觉。这十分棘手。”
“什么是‘推想的认为’？”天狼星说，砰当一声把椅子的四条腿都放回地面。
“不过是我肯定你一定感觉——啊——因为你不能做些有用的事而感到沮丧，”斯内普对他施以一个巧妙的压力，“为凤凰令。”
现在轮到天狼星的脸发红。当他准备带走哈利的时候，嘴唇动了动表示胜利。
“校长已经派遣我告诉你，波特，他希望你学习 思维闭锁术 这个咒语。”
“学习什么？”哈利茫然地说。
斯内普的冷笑变得更加显著。
“思维闭锁术 ，波特。这个心灵的防卫魔法来防卫外侧的入侵。魔术的一个模糊的分支，但是一个高度有用的咒语。” 哈利的心开始快速地抽动。防卫外部的侵入？但是他没有被着魔，他们已经全部决定那了。
“我为什么必须学习 思维闭锁术 ？”他脱口而出。
“因为校长认为那是一个好主意，”斯内普平静地说道。“你一个星期将会接受一次私人的课，但是你不要告诉任何人你是在做什么，至少不要告诉德洛丽丝·昂布瑞吉。知道吗？”
“是的，”哈利说道。“谁要来教我？”
斯内普扬起了一道眉毛。
“我，”他说。
哈利有了一种他的内部在熔化的可怕的感觉。
斯内普的额外课程——他在世上做了什么会应受这个？他快速地看着天狼星来寻求支持。
“丹伯多为什么不教哈利？”天狼星攻击性地问。“为什么是你？”
“我想那是因为校长用特权委派代表并不是一件有趣的事情，”斯内普圆滑地说。“我保证这份工作不是我请求来的。”他站起来。“我希望你在每周一傍晚六点钟时，波特。我的办公室。如果有人问起这件事，你就说补习药剂课。没有在我的班级中看到你的人可以否认你需要那样做。”
他准备离开，他的黑色旅行斗蓬在他身后飞扬。
“等等，”天狼星说道，直直地坐在他的椅子上。
斯内普折回面对他们，嘲笑着。
“我实在是忙，布莱克。不像你，我没有那么多的空闲时间。”
“我只是重点地说一下，”天狼星说道，站起来。他比斯内普更高，哈利注意道，哈利确定他在斗蓬的口袋里攥紧了拳头，抓着魔杖。“如果我听到你用思维闭锁术的课程来惩治哈利，你走着瞧。”
“多么感人啊，”斯内普嘲笑道。“但是你一定注意到波特非常像的他父亲？”
“是的，我注意到了，”天狼星傲慢地说道。
“那么好的，你将会明白他是如此的傲慢以致于批评对他而言只是简单的试探，”斯内普圆滑地说。
天狼星把暴躁地把他的椅子推到了一边，大步绕开桌子走向斯内普，当他出去的时候，他抽出了他的魔杖。斯内普也拿出他自己的。他们彼此对视着对方，天狼星看起来怒气冲冲，斯内普考虑着，他的眼睛正视着天狼星的魔杖的指向他的脸的一端。
“天狼星！”哈利大声地说，但是天狼星叫不要管他。
“我已经警告过你，Snivdlus（应该就是指斯内普），”天狼星说道，他的脸看着斯内普的一只脚，“我不关心如果丹伯多的革新，我知道更好地——”
“哦，但是你为什么不这么告诉他？”斯内普小声地说。“或者是你是害怕他可能不认真地看待一个已经在他母亲的房子躲藏达六个月之久的男人的忠告？”
“告诉我，卢修斯·马尔夫这些几天怎样？ 我希望他使很高兴他的小狗在霍格瓦彻学习，不是吗？” “说到狗，”斯内普柔和地说，“你知道卢修斯·马尔夫上次在你出去走走的时候辨认出你吗？放聪明点，布莱克，让你自己在一个安全的车站月台上被看到。给你一个铸铁的窗口，在以后离开你的藏身洞，不是吗？”
天狼星举起了他的魔杖。
“不！”哈利大叫，跳过桌子，试图走进他们之间。“天狼星，不要！”
“你说我是一个懦夫吗？”天狼星吼道，试着推开哈利，但是哈利并不移开。
“为什么，是的，我想我是的，”斯内普说道。
“哈利——从——这里——出——去！”天狼星疯狂地吼道，用他的另一只手把他推到了一边。
厨房的门打开了，整个的威斯里家庭，加上荷米恩，走了进来，所有的人看起来都非常快乐，和穿着一件被橡皮布复盖的有斑纹的睡衣的威斯里先生一起自豪的走着。
“治好了！”他大声地在厨房里宣告。“完全的治好了！”
他和所有的威斯里一样在开始时惊呆了，呆呆的看着在他们的前面场面，在中间的动作也被中止，天狼星和斯内普看着门，同时他们的魔杖互相指着对方的脸，哈利不动地站在他们之间，一个手指着对方，试着分别地攻击对方。
“默林的胡须，”威斯里先生说道，他的脸上微笑渐渐消失了，“这里在干什么？”
天狼星和斯内普都放下了他们的魔杖。哈利从看了看一个，又看了看另一个。 每个人都带着极度轻视对方的表情，仍然想不到这么多目击者一口气从入口涌进来的感觉。斯内普收起了他的魔杖，转身穿过厨房，没有对威斯里说一句话就走了。在门旁，他回头看了看。 “六点钟，星期一傍晚，波特。”
于是他走了。天狼星在他身后怒目而视，他的魔杖在他的身旁。
“这里在干什么？”威斯里先生再一次问道。
“没什么，亚瑟，”天狼星说道，气喘吁吁地，好像他刚刚跑了很长的距离。“只是在二位学校里的老朋友之间友好地闲谈。”由于看起来像一个巨大的努力一样，他微笑着。“于是，你被治愈了？那是很棒的消息，真的很棒。”
“是的，不是吗？”威斯里太太说，带着他的丈夫向一张椅子走去。“巫医 Smethwyck 最终用他的魔法，制造了一个解毒药来对付毒蛇的尖牙，而且亚瑟学习了麻瓜的药，不是吗，亲爱的？”她补充道，有点不高兴。 “是的，茉莉，亲爱的，”威斯里先生温顺地说道。
那次晚餐十分快活，威斯里先生回来的喜悦笼罩着他们。哈利可以看得出天狼星试着这么做 ，然而当他的教父并没有注意他，为弗来德和乔治的笑话开怀大笑或是提供给大家更多的食物，他的脸上又显现出了忧郁，沉思着脸。哈利已经被蒙顿格斯和疯眼人为的分隔开来，向威斯里先生庆祝。他想和天狼星说话，告诉他不要理斯内普所说的话，斯内普正在故意地刺激他，别人不认为被丹伯多留在老房子里的天狼星是一个懦弱的人。但是他没有机会这么做，并且，注视着天狼星脸上那丑陋的神情，哈利有时想他是否有机会去提起这件事。相反地，他用微小的声音告诉罗恩和荷米恩有关他必须参加斯内普的 思维闭锁术 课程的事情。 “丹伯多希望你不要再做那些有关伏地魔的梦，”荷米恩立刻说道。“嗯，你不会难过失去了那些梦，不是吗？”
“与斯内普上额外课？”罗恩说道，用大为震惊的语调。“我将会宁可有梦魇！”
第二天，他们坐着骑士公共汽车回到了霍格瓦彻，再一次接受唐克斯和露平的护卫，第二天早晨，当哈利、罗恩和荷米恩下来的时候，他们两人都在厨房里次早餐。当哈利打开门时，那些成年人低声地谈着话；他们看起来都十分慌张，迅速回到了沉默。
在一份匆忙的早餐之后，他们都穿上了夹克和围巾，来对抗这寒冷而灰暗的一月早晨。哈利心中有一种不愉快的感觉；他不想对天狼星说再见。他对这有一种不好的感觉；他不知道。当他们下一次看到对方时，他觉得他有义务阻止天狼星做傻事——哈利担忧斯内普对他懦弱的谴责已经深深刺痛了天狼星，这可能使他愚蠢地计划到老房子外做一些旅行。然而，当他想起该说什么之前，天狼星已经到他的身边，向他招手。
“我希望你带着这个，”他平静地说，塞给哈利一个包装粗糙的包袱，大概是一本平装书。
“那是什么？”哈利问道。
“使我了解斯内普让你不好过的一个途径，不，不要在这里打开它！”天狼星说，机警地看着威斯里太太，那个正在劝说双胞胎穿手工编制的手套的人。“我想茉莉不会赞同——但是我希望你在需要我的时候使用他，好吗？”
“好，”哈利说道，把包袱放在他的夹克衫的内口袋中，但是他知道无论它是什么，他也不会去用它。那将不是他，哈利，把天狼星从安全的地方引出来的人，无论斯内普在即将来临的 思维闭锁术 课上对他用多么卑鄙的手段。
“那么我们走吧，”天狼星说道，拍了拍哈利的肩膀，可怕地笑了笑，在哈利说别的东西之前，他们走到二楼，在那上了锁的门前停住了，被威斯里环绕着。
“再见，哈利，小心，”威斯里太太说道，拥抱他。
“再见，哈利，而且为我留意蛇！”威斯里先生亲切地说，摇动他的手。
“好的——是，”哈利心烦意乱地说道；那是他告诉天狼星要小心的最后机会；他转过头，看着他教父的脸，张开了他的嘴说，但在他可以做这些之前，天狼星简短地对他说了些，单手拥抱了他，并且说，“照顾好你自己，哈利。”那一刻，哈利发现他自己变得逃避出去，进入冬天那冰冷的空气，和唐克丝（今天她伪装成一个高个头、穿着粗花呢服装的、有烫平的灰发的人）烦恼地走下了台阶。
十二号的门在他们后面猛然地关上。他们跟随着露平走下了前面的台阶。当他到达了人行道的候，哈利看了看四周。在它伸长的任一边上，十二号正在快速地收缩，消失在视野中。一眨眼后，它已经不见了。
“过来，我们越快上公共汽车越好，”唐克丝说道，哈利想她在正方形的周围的一瞥有写神经过敏。 露平伸出他的右臂。 砰——
一阵强烈的紫色，“三倍的装饰者”公共汽车在前面稀薄的空气里出现，勉强避免撞上最近的街灯柱，向路后跳跃。
一个瘦的、有疙瘩的，有耳的水壶的年轻人在一片迷茫的紫色中出现，走到人行道，说道，“欢迎到那——”
“是的，是，我们知道，谢谢你，”唐克丝很快地说道。“上去，上去，上车——”
她推着哈利上了台阶，穿过售票员，有人在哈利经过的时候戴着眼镜看着他。
“嗯——它是许多——！”
“如果你叫出他的名字，我要诅咒你直到你忘了它，”唐克丝威胁地嘀咕道，现在金妮和荷米恩分开来。
“我总是希望继续进行这件事，”罗恩快乐地说道，在车上加入了哈利，环视着四周。
当哈利最后一次乘坐骑士公共汽车旅行的时候，已经是傍晚了，它的三个甲板上放满了黄铜的床架。现在，在凌晨的时候，杂乱的椅子随意排列在窗户旁边。当公共汽车在老房子旁突然地停下来时，窗户旁的那些椅子突然掉了下去。一些巫婆和男巫仍然抱怨地站着，一些人的购物袋滑到了车旁：倒出了令人不愉快的蛙卵混合物、蟑螂和乳蛋糕乳脂，这些东西散布得到处都是。
“看起来我们不得不分开了，”唐克丝快活地说道，在空椅子旁四处看了看。“弗来德，乔治和金妮，如果你们坐在后面那些位子。Remus 就可以继续陪着你们。” 她、哈利、罗恩和荷米恩走上了上面的车仓， 公共汽车上的那个地方的前面有两张空椅，后面也有两张。Stan Shunpike，那个售票员，热心地跟随了哈利和罗恩到车的尾部。所有人在哈利经过的时候转过了头，当他坐下后，他看见所有的脸再一次看回前面。
当哈利和罗恩每个人交给 Stan 十一个镰刀币，公共汽车再一次出发了，剧烈地摇动着。它隆隆地在老房子周围行驶，发出巨大的声音离开了人行道，然后，随着又一声巨大的砰响，他又先后冲去；罗恩的椅子向右边倾倒，Pigwidgeon 倒在了他的大腿前，奋力冲出从他的笼子，叽叽喳喳地飞到了车前，降落在荷米恩的肩上。哈利奋力避免倒在蜡烛台上，向窗户外看：车子在一条汽车高速公路上加速向前行驶。 “只不过出了伯明翰，”Stan 快乐地说，回答了哈利并没有说出口的问题，罗恩努力在从地板上爬起来。“你保持地不错，哈利？整个夏天我都在报纸上看到你的名字，但那并不好。我对 Ern 说，我说，我见到他的时候，他不像傻子，只不过是去炫耀罢了，不是吗？” 他接过了他们的票并且继续注视着他，迷惑不解地看着哈利。显然地，Stan 不关心一些人是怎么疯狂的，不论他们在报纸上多么出名，骑士公共汽车剧烈地摇动，超过了一辆汽车。向公共汽车的前面看着，哈利看到荷米恩用手遮住眼镜，Pigwidgeon 在她的肩部上快乐地摇动着。 砰——
当骑士公共汽车从伯明翰的汽车高速公路驶向一个有着许多险湾的安静的乡村小路时，椅子再次向后倒下了。道路的两边的灌木篱墙都向后退着。 从这里，他们来到了一个忙碌的城镇中央的大街，然后驶向一个被高山包围的道路，然后又到了一条被风吹扫的道路，每一次都又一个巨大的砰声。 “我已经改变了我的想法，”罗恩喃喃自语，第六次从地板上站起来，“我再也不搭乘这个东西了。”
“听着，在这之后是霍格瓦彻的停靠站，”Stan 大声地说，对他们挥着手。“前面的一个专横的女人上了车，他给了我们一点小费去排在队前，我们先让 Marsh 夫人下车，虽然——”下面传出了一阵恶心的声音，随着飞来了一阵可怕的噪音，“——她不觉得她最好。” 几分钟之后，骑士公共汽车尖叫着停在了外面的一个小酒馆旁，努力使它避免发生碰撞。他们可以听见 Stan 带着不幸的 Marsh 夫人走出公共汽车，在第二层放心地抱怨身后的乘客。车子再次启动了，加速，直到—— 砰——
他们正在穿过满是雪的 Hogsmeade。哈利瞥见猪头酒吧就在街道的旁边，一只可怕的猪头标记在寒风中吱吱作响。点点雪花飘落在车前打窗上。最终他们停在了霍格瓦彻的大门前。
露平和唐克丝帮助他们把行李拿下车来，然后说再见，离开了。哈利扫了一眼骑士公共汽车的三张桌子，发现所有乘客的鼻子都贴着窗户，注视着他。
“你在地上是十分安全的。”唐克丝说，看了看荒废的道路，“祝你有一个好的学习生活，好吗？”
“照顾好你自己。”露平说，拍了拍哈利。“并且注意听。”当他和唐克丝在最后队他们说再见的时候，他降低了声音，“哈利，我知道你不喜欢斯内普，但他是一个极好的 Occlu 者，并且我们所有人——包括天狼星——希望你能学会保护自己，所以努力学习，好吗？” “好的，好，”哈利沉重地说道，抬头看了看露平的脸，“那么再见。”
他们六人径直走向城堡，拖着他们的行李。荷米恩已经在谈论在睡觉前为小精灵们编制帽子。当他的来到了前面的门时，哈利向后看了看，骑士公共汽车已经开走了，他的希望只实现了一半，猜想傍晚将会迎来什么，或许他们仍然在车板上。
这天傍晚，哈利一直在担心着第二天。第二天上午的两节药剂课并不能减缓他的恐惧，因为斯内普仍然像过去一样令人不愉快。防御协会的成员在课间的时候在走廊接近他更使他的心情跌落下来，满怀希望地问道那天晚上是否有个集会。
“当下一次来的时候，要让你知道要像平常一样，”哈利一遍又一遍地说道，“但是我今晚不能做那，我不得不去——嗯——补习药剂。”
“你去补习药剂！”Zacharias Smith 傲慢地问道，晚饭后在门廊旁快把哈利逼上绝路。“天啊，你肯定疯了，斯内普很少给人补习的，不是吗？” 当 Smith 恼人地大步走开后，罗恩在他后面怒目而视。 “我要让他倒霉吗？我从这儿仍然可以攻击到他。”他说道，抽出他的魔杖瞄准了 Smith 的肩上。 “忘了他，”哈利郁闷地说道，“那是每个人都要思考的问题，不是吗？那是我真正愚蠢——”
“嗨，哈利，”他后面有一个声音说道。他转过身，发现秋站在那儿。
“哦，”哈利说道，胃里有一股不舒服的跳动。“嗨。”
“我们将会在图书馆，哈利，”当荷米恩抓住罗恩的肘，把他拉出大理石走廊的时候，坚定地说道。
“圣诞节愉快吗？”秋说。
“嗯，不坏，”哈利说道。
“我的非常愉快。”秋说。对于理由，她显得非常局促不安。“嗯，在下个月，我又要去 Hogsmeade 旅游了。你看到了告示吗？” “什么？哦，没有，自我回来之后，就没有看告示板了。”
“是的，那是在情人节那天。”
“好的，”哈利说道，奇怪她为什么告诉他这些东西。“好的，我想你要——？”
“只有你做，”她急切地说道。
哈利呆呆地看着她。他说，“我想你想知道下次防御协会的会议时间？”但是她并没有回答。
“我——嗯——”他说。
“哦，如果没有的话也没关系，”她说，看起来十分苦恼。“不要烦恼。我——我会经常看你的。”
她走开了。哈利站在她后面，注视着她，他的脑了疯狂地思考。然后有些东西在这儿发出沉闷的声音。
“秋！嗨——秋！”
他追赶着她，在半路的大理石走廊上追上了她。
“嗯——，你想在情人节和我一起去 Hogsmeade 吗？” “哦哦，是的！”她说道，脸红了起来，高兴地看着他。
“好的，嗯，那么就定下来了。”哈利说道，感觉那一天还不至于白白浪费，事实上，他在下午的课前在图书馆找到了罗恩和荷米恩。
然而，那天傍晚六点钟之前，对张秋的成功邀请并不能减轻他那可怕的感觉，他一步一步的走向斯内普的办公室。
当他到那边时候，他在门口停了停，希望他是在别的地方，然后，做了深呼吸，他敲了敲门，走了进去。
布满阴影的房间里放着百余个玻璃瓶，瓶里装着各种颜色的动物和植物的汁液。一个角落里放着装满东西的碗柜，这些东西斯内普曾经告诫哈利——并不是没理由的——抢夺。但是，哈利的注意力转向了桌子，那里有一个浅的、放满石头的水池，在烛光下现出了各种文字和符号。哈利曾经见过它——那是在丹伯多的冥想盆中。正在奇怪那个东西在做什么，斯内普冷冷的声音传了出来。
“关上你后面的门，波特。”
哈利按照他所说的话做了，他感觉他在关押自己。但他转回了房间时，斯内普走进了光亮的地方，并且安静的指着他桌子另一边的椅子。哈利坐下了，斯内普也是，他冰冷的黑眼睛盯着哈利，脸上露出了不满的表情。
“好的，波特，你知道你为什么在这里，”他说。“校长已经要求我教你 思维闭锁术。我只希望你能比药剂学更熟悉它。” “好的，”哈利简单地说。
“这并不是一个一般的课程，波特，”斯内普说道，他的眼睛阴险地眨了眨，“但是我仍然是你的老师，所以你应当在所有的时候叫我‘先生’或者‘教授’。”
“是的。先生，”哈利说道。
斯内普用细小的眼睛审视着他，然后说道，“现在，思维闭锁术。当我在你亲爱的教父的厨房里告诉你的时候，魔法封锁心灵的分支，用来对付魔法入侵及魔法影响。”
“但是为什么丹伯多教授认为我需要它，先生？”哈利说道，奇怪地看着斯内普的眼镜，等待着他的回答。
斯内普轻蔑的看了他一会，“很显然你可以得出答案，波特？黑暗公爵对 Legilimency 是十分熟练的——” “那是什么？先生？”
“它可以从另一个人的心中读取他的思想和情感——”
“他能读取别人的心理？”哈利很快地说，证实了他最坏的担心。
“你并不精明，波特，”斯内普说道，他的黑眼睛闪烁着光芒。“你并不了解这些。那是使你不能成为一个好的药剂制造者的一大缺点。”
斯内普停了一会，显然是对使哈利难堪而感到高兴，在继续之前。
“只有麻瓜才说‘读取心灵’。心灵并不是一本书，可以在空闲的时候打开。心灵并非固化在头脑里，可以被所有人知道。心灵是一个复杂的、有许多层次的东西，波特——或者说至少，大多数人的心灵是这样的。”他假假地笑了一下。“但是，那是真的，Legilimency 可以控制一个人的心灵，可以进入一个受害者的心灵，来正确的命令他。例如，黑暗公爵，总是知道别人是否撒谎。只有 思维闭锁术 可以关闭你的思想和记忆，可以返回不真实的信息而不被察觉。” 无论斯内普说什么，Legilimency 对于哈利而言听起来就像读取心灵一样，而且他一点也不它喜欢这个。 “因此他可以知道我们正在想的东西？先生？”
“黑暗公爵在一个很远的地方，并且霍格瓦彻的墙壁和地板都被一些远古的咒语和魔法保护着，住在里头的人是安全的，”斯内普说道。“在魔法中，有着时间与空间的概念，波特。Legilimency 需要眼神接触。” “好的，那么，我为什么必须学习 思维闭锁术？” 斯内普看着哈利，用一个长而瘦的手指指着哈利。
“常理看起来并不在你身上适用，波特。可以杀死你的诅咒去宣告失败看起来可以说明你和黑暗公爵有一些亲戚关系。有时，证据显示，当你的思想非常放松的时候——例如睡觉时——你会共享黑暗公爵的思想和情绪。校长感到这十分失策，他想让我教你怎样对黑暗公爵关闭你的心灵。”
哈利的心再次快速地抽动了一下，他并不知道这些。
“但是为什么丹伯多教授希望停止他？”他突然问道。“我并不喜欢这样，但这十分有用，不是吗？我的意思是，我可以看到蛇攻击威斯里先生，如果我不能，丹伯多教授就不能挽救他，是吗？先生？”
斯内普盯着哈利看了片刻，仍然用手堵住他的嘴。当他再一次说时候，声音故意放慢，好像每个字都有千斤重。
“看来在这以前，黑暗公爵并没有察觉到你和他之间的关系。到现在，你看起来已经有经验体会他的情感，分享他的思想了，并不需要特殊的努力。但是，在圣诞节之前，你的短梦——”
“是关于蛇的，还是关于威斯里先生的？”
“不要打断我，波特，”斯内普用一种恐怖的音调说道，“正如我刚才说的圣诞节前你做的梦对黑暗公爵来说是一次强大的思想冲击——”
“我是以在蛇的头内的角度观察的，不是他的！”
“我想我刚刚告诉你不要打断我，波特？”
但哈利并不介意斯内普是否生气，最终他看起来到了事情的末端；所以他走向了椅子，并没有明白那些。他坐在椅子的边上，内心紧张，但装作泰然自若的样子“如果我在分享伏地魔的思想，那为什么我是穿过蛇的眼镜来看的？”
“不要说黑暗公爵的名字！”斯内普拍着桌子。
一阵可怕的沉默。他们彼此之间穿过 Pensieve 对视着。 “丹伯多说他的名字，”哈利安静地说。
“丹伯多是一个非常强大的巫师，”斯内普喃喃自语。“他有足够的安全感去说他的名字。但我们不是。”他显然不高兴，在黑暗公爵烧伤他左臂的地方擦了擦。
“我只不过是想知道，”哈利又一次说，礼貌地把他的声音顶回去，“为什么——”
“正是因为黑暗公爵那时处在一个特殊的地方，所以你才能知道蛇的心灵，”斯内普吼道。“那是他正在控制着那只蛇，所以你才会梦见你处在蛇里。”
“那么伏——他——知道我在那里？”
“我想是这样的。”斯内普冷冷地说道。
“你怎么知道？”哈利急切地说，“那只是丹伯多教授的猜测，或者——？”
“我告诉过你，”斯内普说道，硬邦邦地坐在他的椅子上，他的眼睛眯着，“称呼我‘先生’。”
“是的，先生，”哈利不耐烦地说道，“但是你怎么知道——”
“我们可以非常清楚地知道，”斯内普低声说道。“重点是黑暗公爵现在已经直到你可以了解他的思想和感觉。他也准备改变这个事实。这是说，他也同样可以了解你的思想和想法——”
“所以他也可以试着驱使我做一些事情？”哈利问道，“先生？”他急忙补上这句。
“可能吧，”斯内普说道，冷冷而无视地说道。“让我们回到 思维闭锁术 课上来。”
斯内普从他的口袋中抽出了魔杖，哈利紧张地坐在椅子上，但斯内普只不过是举起了魔杖，对着他的发根。当他把它收起来时，一些像银一样的物质跑开了，像细绳一样在太阳穴旁变宽，当他把魔杖移开到Pensieve时，那又破碎了。它银白色地旋转着，既不像气体，也不像液体。两次之后，斯内普又把魔杖对着太阳穴，然后又把银色的东西放进了石头水池里，接着，他并没有解释他刚才的行为，他小心地拿起了 Pensieve，把他从书架中取出，抓着他的魔杖，转过脸面对哈利。
“站起来，拿出你的魔杖，波特。”
哈利站了起来，感到十分不安。他们分别站在桌子两边，互相对视着。
“你可以使用你的魔杖来试着解除我的武器，或者用你任何想用的办法来保护好你自己，”斯内普说道。
“你要干什么？”哈利问道，紧张地看着斯内普的魔杖。
“我会试着闯入你的心灵，”斯内普柔和地说道。“我要看看你抵抗得怎么样。我已经告诉你要随时准备抵抗 Imperius 咒语。你会发现你需要一个和这相似的力量。保护好你自己，现在，Legilimens！”
在哈利准备好以前，斯内普就开始袭击了，甚至在他开始召唤一些反抗的力量。办公室突然在他眼前消失不见了；一幅又一幅的画面像一部闪闪发光的电影一样穿过他的好像已经失明的心灵。
他五岁的时候，看着达德利骑着一辆新的红色自行车，他的心里嫉妒极了。他九岁的时候，和 Ripper，一只牛狗，上了树，达德力一家在下面的草坪上笑。他坐在分院帽下，它告诉他可以在斯莱特林做的很好。荷米恩躺在医院里，她的脸掩盖在她细细的黑发下。一百个摄魂怪在黑湖旁包围着他。张秋在槲寄生下靠着他。
“不，”哈利脑子里有一股声音，当他想起秋靠近他时，“你不能看那，你不能看那，那是我的私事——”
他感觉他的膝盖上有一阵剧痛。斯内普的办公室回到了视野中，他发现原来他调到地上了；一只脚痛苦地撞上了斯内普的桌子。他看着斯内普，他放心了魔杖，擦着他的手腕。那里有一个可怕的伤痕，像是一个烧焦的标记。
“你是说你受到了一个激烈的魔法吗？”斯内普冷冷地问。
“不，”哈利抱怨地说，从地板上站起来。
“我想是没有的，”斯内普说道，走进看着他。“你让我侵入太深了。你失去了对自己的控制。”
“你知道了我看见的每一件事吗？”哈利问道，并不能肯定他是否希望听到这个问题的答案。
“它在我面前闪现，”斯内普说道，嘴唇卷缩着。“那只狗属于谁？”
“我的姨妈 Marge，”哈利喃喃自语，斯内普穿上了帽子。
“好的，你的第一次努力十分糟糕，”斯内普说道，再一次举起了他的魔杖。“你最终阻止了我，但是你浪费了许多时间和精力。你必须集中注意力，用你的思想来击退我，而不需要使用你的魔杖。”
“我正在尝试，”哈利愤怒地说道，“但你却不告诉我怎么做！”
“礼貌些，波特，”斯内普阴险地说道。“现在，我希望你闭上你的眼睛。”
哈利极其恶心地看了他一眼，然后按照他所说的去做。他并不喜欢在斯内普看着他的时候闭上眼睛站在那里，抓着一支魔杖。
“清除你的心灵，波特，”斯内普冷冰冰地说道，“让所有的情感消失。”
但是哈利十分愤怒斯内普像灌毒液一样侵犯着他的心灵。让苦恼离开？这并不像分开他的脚一样容易。
“你并不在做，波特。你需要比现在更多的训练，现在，注意。”
哈利试着清空他的心灵，试着不去思考，或者记忆，或者感觉。
“让我们再来一次。数三次，一——二——三——Legilimens！”
一只巨大的黑龙出现在他的面前。他的父母在一面魔镜里向他挥手。Cedric Diggory 躺在了地上，用黑眼睛注视着他。 “不————————！”
哈利再一次跪倒在地上。他用手遮住脸，他的大脑剧痛，就像有人想要试着把它从颅腔中取出来一样。
“起来！”斯内普尖利地说道，“起来，你并没有在尝试，你不在努力，你正允许我读取你的恐惧，学会对抗我！”
哈利再一次站了起来，他的心极度恐惧，就像在墓地里看到 Cedric 的去世一样。斯内普的脸色看起来比平时更加苍白，更加生气，虽然没有像哈利原来那么生气。 “我——在——努——力，”他咬着牙说道。
“我告诉过你要清空你的情绪！”
“是的？好吧，我发现此刻做这很难，”哈利吼叫。
“那么你会发现你自己很容易成为黑暗公爵的猎物！”斯内普野蛮地说。“紧紧抱住自己的情绪不放的，不能控制他们的情绪的，深陷在悲伤的记忆中而任人挑拨的，都是傻瓜，弱者！换句话说——它们没有对抗他人的力量！他可以毫不费力的侵入你的心灵，波特！”
“我不是弱者，”哈利低低地说，无法控制的愤怒使他现在想要攻击斯内普。
“证明它！战胜你自己！”斯内普叫到，“控制你的愤怒，训练你的心灵！我们再试一次！准备好！Leguimens！”
他看到了维能姨丈把信箱封死。一百个摄魂怪漂过湖围着它。他和威斯里先生一起走过一段无窗的小路。哈利想要穿过它，但威斯里先生把他拉到了左边走下了一段石头台阶。
“我知道！我知道！”
他第四次倒在了斯内普办公室的地板上，他的伤疤令人不快地痛着，但嘴里发出的声音还勉强装作高兴，他再次站了起来，发现斯内普正在注视着他，他的魔杖已经举起来了。在这个时候，看起来好像，哈利在试着对抗之前，斯内普就成功地施放了这个咒语。
“然后发生了什么，波特？”他问道，紧紧地盯着哈利。
“我看见——我记得，”哈利喘息着。“我刚刚明白。”
“明白什么？”斯内普尖锐地说。
哈利并没有立刻回到，他擦了擦他的前额，仔细回想着刚才失明的片刻。
他梦到了一个没有窗户的走廊消尽在一扇被锁长达数数个月之久的门前，他没有离开发现那是一个真是的地方。现在，他再次回想着，他知道他所梦见的的走廊是八月十二日他和威斯里先生跑到魔法部的审判室所经过的，正是这个走廊引导他来到了秘密部，并且他梦见伏地魔的蛇晚上攻击威斯里先生也正是在这里。
他抬头看了看斯内普。
“秘密部里怎么了？”
“你说什么？”斯内普安静地说，哈利看着他，感到深深的满足。而斯内普感到精疲力尽。
“我说，秘密部里有什么东西，先生？”哈利说道。
“为什么，”斯内普慢慢地说，“你想问这件事？”
“因为，”哈利说道，接近了，看着斯内普的脸，“那个走廊，就是我刚刚看到的——我几个月以来一直梦见它——我认识它——它把我领到了秘密部。并且我认为伏地魔想从——”
“我已经告诉过你不要说黑暗公爵的名字！”
他们彼此对视着。哈利的伤疤再一次痛起来，但是他并不介意。斯内普看起来精神激动；但当他再一次说话时，语调显得冷淡而漠不关心。
“秘密部里有许多东西，波特，少数的你可能会知道，没有任何东西会涉及到你。我还不清楚吗？”
“是的，”哈利说道，仍然在擦着他的伤疤，越来越痛苦。
“我希望你在星期二的同一时间回到这儿，我们继续学习。”
“哦，”哈利说道。他不顾一切地冲出斯内普的办公室，想找罗恩和荷米恩。
“你要在每天睡觉之前清空你的情绪，清空他，使他空白、平静下来，你知道吗？”
“是的，”哈利说道，几乎没在听。
“并且警告，波特。我已经知道如果你不练习的话——”
“好的，”哈利喃喃自语。他抓起他的书包，扛在肩上，急急地跑向了办公室的门，当他打开的时候，他看了一样斯内普，他正在用魔杖把自己的思想仔细地放进 Pensieve 里。哈利没有说一句话就走了，在他身后仔细地关上了门，他的伤疤仍然剧烈地痛着。 哈利在图书馆里找到了罗恩和荷米恩，他们正在做昂布瑞吉最近所布置的大量作业。其他的学生，几乎是在他们的十五年中，坐在灯光下，鼻子贴着书，羽毛笔兴奋的写着，窗外的天空慢慢地变黑了。那里只剩下 Pince 夫人巡视过道时鞋子发出的声音，低下脖子呼吸，抚摸着一本本心爱的书。 哈利觉得十分可怕；他的伤疤仍然痛着，他觉得快要疯了。
当他坐在罗恩和荷米恩的对面时，他在对面的窗户里看到了自己的影子；他十分地苍白，他的疤痕看起来比平时更加地清楚。
“它怎样走了？”荷米恩低声地说，然后，关心地看着哈利。“你还好吗，哈利？”
“是的，好的，我不知道，”哈利不耐烦地说道，疼痛的伤疤使他不禁抽搐了一下，“听着，我明白了一些东西。”
于是他告诉了他们刚才他说看到的和推论出的东西。
“那么，你是在说，”罗恩在 Pince 夫人走过之后，低声地说，“那个武器——在神秘人之后的东西——是在魔法部里？” “在秘密部里，一定是，”哈利低声说，“当你爸爸带我到审判室的时候，我看到那个门，并且我也肯定，你父亲被蛇咬的时候也是在那里。”
荷米恩发出了一阵长而慢的叹息。
“当然，”她吸了一口气。
“当然什么？”罗恩有点不耐烦道说道。
“罗恩，仔细想想，Sturgis Podmore 曾试着通过魔法部的一扇门（请看第14章），那一定也是这扇门，它有太多的巧合了！”
“Sturgis 是我们的人，但他为什么要闯入呢？”罗恩说道。 “嗯，我不知道，”荷米恩承认。“那有点奇怪。”
“那么秘密部里有什么东西？”哈利问罗恩，“你爸爸曾经提过它吗？”
“我知道他们叫在里面工作的人‘无法说出的’，”罗恩说道，皱了皱眉头。“因为看起来没有人真正知道他们在干什么——神秘的地方有一个武器。”
“那根本就不神秘，只不过看起来罢了，”荷米恩说道，“那里可能有魔法部的顶级机密，我想。哈利，你确定你十分正常吗？”
因为哈利的两只手都捂着前额，看起来那里十分烫。
“是的，好的。”他说道，放下了他发抖的手。“我有感觉到一点，我实在是不喜欢 思维闭锁术。” “我想，如果有人的心灵一次又一次地受到入侵，他一点会感到不安的，”荷米恩怜悯地说。“好吧，让我们回到公共休息室，我们在那里会更舒服些。”
但是公共休息室里总是充满了兴奋的叫声和笑声；弗来德和乔治在演示玩笑商店最近的新产品。
“没头的帽子！”当弗来德带着一顶有粉红羽毛的帽子看着其他学生时，乔治叫道，“现在，每人两个帆船币，观看弗来德！”
弗来德把帽子放在了他的头上，看起来十分愉快。一秒钟后，他看起来相当傻，帽子和头都消失了。
一些女孩尖叫着，但是其他人都笑着咆哮着。
“再一次完成！”乔治叫道，弗来德的手再肩膀上稀薄的空气中摸索着，于是当弗来德的手把帽子取下时，他的头出现了。
“那些帽子是怎么实现的？”荷米恩说道，从那些家庭作业中分出心来，近近地看着弗来德和乔治。“我是说，显然，那是用了某种消失咒，但是他已经被聪明而广泛地延伸到了的其他魔法物体，我想这个咒语并不会持续很长时间的。”
哈利并没有回答，他感觉他生病了。
“我明天必须做这，”他喃喃自语，把他刚刚从书包里取出的书又放了进去。
“好的，把它写进你的家庭作业计划！”荷米恩鼓励地说道，“这样你就不会忘记！”
当哈利和罗恩把手伸进书包的时候，他们俩交换了一下眼神，拿出了计划，试验性地打开了它。
“不要把那些留到太迟，你这个二流货！”当哈利潦草地写下昂布瑞吉的作业时，痛斥着书。荷米恩看着他。
“我想我要去睡觉了，”哈利说道，填完了作业计划之后把它塞进了包里，集中注意力在有机会的时候把它扔进了壁炉里。
他穿过了公共休息室，躲开了乔治，那个试着给他带上“无头的帽子”的人，穿过安静而凉快的石头楼梯，来到了男生宿舍。他再一次感到他生病了，正如他晚上有蛇的视野一样，但是他想，他马上就可以躺下来睡好久，之后他就变得正常。
他打开了宿舍的门，一步跨了进去。他的头剧烈地痛着，他想一定是有人把刀片放进了他的头顶。他不知道他在哪里，是站着还是躺着，他甚至不知道他自己的名字。
疯狂的笑声在他耳边响着，他比刚才很长的一段时间都更加高兴。欢呼，喜悦，胜利。一件令人振奋的事情发生了。
“哈利？哈利？”
有人在他脸的周围击中他，愚蠢的笑声常常被痛苦的哭声所打断。欢乐正大量地从他的体内流出，当笑声仍在继续。
他睁开了眼睛，当他这么做的时候，他清楚地明白这野蛮的笑声正是从他自己的嘴里发出的。那一刻他明白了，它渐渐消弱了；哈利喘气地躺在地上，注视着天花板，他前额的伤疤剧烈地跳动着。罗恩正弯下腰看着他，看起来十分焦虑。
“发生了什么事？”他说道。
“我，不知道。”哈利气喘吁吁，再一次站了起来。“他真的高兴，真的非常高兴。”
“你是说神秘人吗？”
“一些好事发生了，”哈利喃喃自语，他摇动着，看起来和看到蛇攻击威斯里先生之后一样可怕。“他希望一些事。”
当他们刚刚回到格兰芬多的更衣室，他说出了这些话，从哈利嘴里说出的话就像一个陌生人说话一样，然而他知道那是真的。他深呼吸着，希望不要在罗恩身旁呕吐。他很高兴 Dean 和 Seamus 这次没有来看。 “荷米恩告诉我过来给你检查，”罗恩低声说，帮助哈利站起来。“她说在斯内普查看你的心灵之后，你的防卫能力很低，我想长跑可能会帮助你，不是吗？”当他扶着哈利来到床上时，他含糊地看着哈利。哈利并不确信地点点头，躺在了枕头上。那天晚上，他常常掉到了地上，感到疼痛。他的伤疤仍然剧烈地痛着。思维闭锁术 并不能帮助他抵抗他的第一次心灵的袭击，并且他相信，有一个巨大的颤抖之后，在十四年中，什么事使伏地魔这么高兴呢？
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