Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“Harry … had a good Christmas?” asked Cho.

“Yeah, not bad; what about you?” said Harry as his stomach leapt uncomfortably.

Ron, on the side, watched the two of them. He felt that Cho’s appearance here was too coincidental, as if she was specifically waiting here.

If Hermione were here, she would have directly pulled him away, giving Harry and Cho some space. However, Ron didn’t have that kind of self-awareness.

On the contrary, he found this matter very interesting and wanted to help Harry with suggestions.

“Mine was pretty quiet, didn’t go anywhere,” 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 notice board since I got back…”

“It’s on Valentine’s Day…”

“Right,” said Harry, wondering why she was telling him this. “Well, I suppose you want to…”

Harry stared. He had been about to say “I suppose you want to know when the next D.A. meeting is?”

They had just been discussing it, and Evan had mentioned the need to speed up their learning.

But Cho’s response did not seem to fit. She didn’t seem to be asking about this.

“I…”

“Oh, it’s okay 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.

“Buddy, it seems like she wants to ask you out,” said Ron. He was still somewhat useful staying here.

Harry suddenly woke up. Wasn’t this what he had been thinking about?!

He ran after Cho, catching her halfway up the marble staircase.

“Er — do you want to come into Hogsmeade with me on Valentine’s Day?”

“Oooh, yes!” she said, blushing crimson and beaming at him. She looked at Harry expectantly. “Do you want to go with me?”

“Of course I do, I’ve been dreaming about it … that’s settled then,” said Harry, feeling that the day was not going to be a complete loss after all.

Snape’s private Remedial Potions in the evening suddenly didn’t seem so unbearable.

Regarding Harry’s performance, Hermione’s assessment could be summed up in just two words: an idiot!

Evan didn’t say anything, because his performance in chasing Hermione was not much better than Harry’s.

They were both novices when it came to how to pursue a girl, and they needed the girl to take the initiative a bit.

But now it didn’t matter; those were things of the past. Now Evan had been tested for a long time and was very skilled.

He knew what to do whenever he was alone with Hermione, and before the Christmas holidays this year it was easy and the opportunities were plentiful.

But now there was a small problem — getting rid of Elaine.

Was the next trip to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day? Maybe he could revisit the old haunts of Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop with Hermione.

Evan tapped his knuckles lightly on the edge of the table as he considered the matter.

At the same time, Harry was standing outside the door of Snape’s office, having ominous feelings.

He paused outside the door when he reached it, wishing he were almost anywhere else, then, taking a deep breath, knocked, and entered.

It was a shadowy room lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which floated slimy bits of animals and plants, suspended in variously colored potions.

In a corner stood the cupboard full of all kinds of precious ingredients, all of which were now in Evan’s pockets.

Harry looked around and his attention was quickly drawn to the desk where a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols lay in a pool of candlelight. Harry recognized it at once — Dumbledore’s Pensieve.

Wondering what on earth it was doing here, he jumped when Snape’s cold voice came out of the corner.

“Shut the door behind you, Potter.”

Harry did as he was told with the horrible feeling that he was imprisoning himself as he did so.

When he turned back to face 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, you know why you are here,” he said coldly. “The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than 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. This is the most basic respect.”

“Yes … Professor!”

“Very well, Occlumency. You have learned it from Mason before, so you should know that this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence. You need to learn it because the Headmaster is concerned about the Dark Lord extracting feelings and memories from your mind…”

“Why can he do that to me?” Harry asked immediately.

This was the answer he’d always wanted to know, and it would be great if Snape could answer it.

“There are many possibilities. The most commonly used spell is Legilimency,” said Snape. “It is also the simplest.”

“Is it mind reading?”

“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. Of course, this has nothing to do with me.”

Snape paused for a moment, apparently to savor the pleasure of insulting Harry.

“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. “I hope you remember what I said. This is what Mr. Know-It-All will not teach you. The Dark Lord is able to delve into others’ minds and to interpret his findings correctly. This is the power of magic, and he is highly proficient in this magic. For instance, he 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 utter falsehoods in his presence without detection.”

“But why is it always me?” Harry summoned the courage to ask.

“Because of the scar on your head, the connection between you and him is particularly strong,” said Snape, “Also, you need to call me ‘Professor’!”

“So he could know what we’re thinking right now? Professor?”

“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. Just like last time, you witnessed what happened in Norway, and the headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord.”

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