Memory Exchange

Harry looked away and walked toward the office without turning back. It was only a short walk down the aisle, and he soon saw Professor Snape in his dark green robes.

He stood straight at the office door, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, his gaze as cold and indifferent as the surface of Black Lake, as if he were about to use Legilimency at any moment.

Harry paused for a moment, then thought it over carefully and realized it was impossible before continuing forward.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape."

"You're late, Potter."

Harry's eyes twitched slightly. Even though there were still ten minutes left before the agreed time, he wisely refrained from arguing and instead whispered an apology, "I'm sorry, sir."

Snape glanced at him. "Come in."

The office was as dim as ever, except for a desk lamp that clashed with the rest of the room. The rest of the room was shrouded in shadows, and hundreds of glass bottles on the shelves were filled with eerie and horrifying plant and animal specimens.

The door to the storage room was ajar, and Harry glanced into it instinctively.

On the workbench, Harry's attention was drawn to a strange-looking toad hopping into a box. Its back was covered in bumpy bumps, and its eyes were scarlet. Potions Master, immediately recognized it as the Black-wart Red-eyed Toad he had used in Potions Master class. It loved to prey on all kinds of flying insects, and its tongue was a key ingredient in household insect repellents...

The toad's body was sunken and dry, like a dehydrated specimen.

How can a dead object that has been made into a specimen move?

Harry's mind was filled with doubt, wondering if Snape was conducting some kind of wicked Potions experiment with the live toad, turning it into that grotesque shape, or perhaps researching dark and vicious Dark Arts...

"Let's test how well you've learned your Occlumency."

Snape's cold voice came from behind him. He waved his wand, and the doors to the storeroom and office slammed shut, making Harry's heart skip a beat.

"Okay, Professor."

This wasn't the first time he'd done a similar test. Harry collected his thoughts and skillfully walked to the chair opposite the desk and sat down.

Snape walked silently, floating like a ghost to the chair and sitting down, staring straight at Harry, his black eyes radiating a cold chill.

Harry felt the chill solidify into something invisible and tangible, the cold touch landing on his eyeballs and seeping into his dazed brain, the cortex, the frontal lobe...

Resist, shut down your mind, and fool him!

A voice whispered in Harry's head as he imagined himself building a thick iron wall in his mind, more secure and sealed than Gringotts ' underground vault, attempting to keep all prying eyes out.

But he failed. The icy chill, which was initially a slippery venomous snake, turned into a deep winter lake the moment it touched the wall, pouring into his mind in every nook and cranny. Not just his eyes, but every orifice of his brain became a leak. His ears heard a low echo from the dimly lit Dungeon Classroom, and his breath was accompanied by coldness.

Snape's deep and cold gaze was etched into his mind, clear even with his eyes closed.

The familiar feeling returned, the office swayed and disappeared before his eyes, and fleeting memories unfolded before him, images flashing through his mind like a movie.

He had just caught a glimpse of Karkaroff rolling up his sleeves to show Snape something on Snape arm... Yesterday during dueling practice, he was hit by Loren's Disarming Charm, which sent him flying... This afternoon, he and Ginny were in the Prefects' bathroom reminiscing about the past few years of glory. He kept pointing at the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup trophy, while Ginny's cheeks flushed with laughter. Their eyes met...

No, you can't watch this!

Subconsciously, Harry used the Shield Charm he wasn't yet very familiar with: "[Protego]"

He was instantly pulled from the countless memories that were being watched by others. He looked at Snape somewhat blankly, and in a daze, something strange emanated from his eyes. It wasn't cold at all, but Harry instantly understood that this was Legilimency.

He knew almost nothing about this magic. He had heard that it involved profound techniques related to Magic Power and the soul, and required a deep understanding of people's hearts and emotions in order to apply it in practice.

A wizard who has just learned Legilimency can only make simple judgments about other people's emotions, determine their thoughts through verbal manipulation and physical pressure, and identify whether they are lying. Only a seasoned Legilimency master can peer into other people's memories.

According to Loren, only Dumbledore and Snape could do that at Hogwarts.

But when this strange Magic Power emanated from his eyes, he instinctively knew how to use it. Just like drinking water and eating, he naturally knew how to control this Magic Power to drift, invade, and spy.

He felt as if he had become another person, entered another perspective. Although it was still the same body, Harry clearly felt that something was different.

In the past, his youthful body was quick and energetic in everything he did, always ready to take flight on a broomstick, his restless Magic Power yearning to unleash cool spells. But now, everything has become more tranquil, yet more under his control.

Harry felt he could control every muscle in his face, making the most appropriate and elegant smile, and flawlessly concealing his emotions. He was calmer and more rational than usual.

Under these circumstances, Harry felt an inexplicable urge to go inside Snape's mind!

Although another voice in his head told him that he should stop immediately, apologize to Professor Snape, and discuss Potions Master with him...

Hmm, he's got all the Slytherin smoothness in him, so is he still Gryffindor?

With almost instinctive control, Harry manipulated Legilimency probe into Snape's mind.

Twisting and drilling like a snake, seeping and permeating like flowing water...

Snape didn't even lift his eyelids, a hint of secret surprise flashing in his eyes.

Clusters of light and shadow floated around Harry, and every memory within them bore Snape's face.

The first time he peeked into someone else's memories, he had an awkward and strange feeling. Before he could figure out what this feeling was, his consciousness had already been dragged into the most recent memory.

The place seemed to be underground, as there were no windows on any side. The room was fairly well lit, and the torches on the wall supports were perhaps enchanted, their flames burning brighter than the woodpile in the fireplace.

The room was surrounded by tiered chairs, with wizards sitting in rows on stools that rose higher and higher. The wizards at the innermost level wore neat Ministry of Ministry of Magic uniforms, and each had a small mountain of parchment scrolls piled up in front of them.

As Harry vaguely realized the situation before him, his breathing became rapid. He glanced at the wizard next to him. Although the wizard's face was covered by a large wizard's hat, Harry recognized him at a glance and almost cried out in surprise.

This is a young Snape, and the one before that was Headmaster Dumbledore, who looks quite similar to how he looks now.

This is probably a courtroom scene, because in the cage in the very center of the room is a familiar face— Igor Karkaroff!

Karkaroff looked much younger than he does now; his hair was still black, his goatee was still short, and the wrinkles around his eyes weren't very noticeable, so he looked quite young. Judging from this, the memory was probably quite distant.

There were no smooth, expensive fur coats, only thin, tattered robes.

Taking this opportunity, he also saw clearly what was on Karkaroff's arm: a tattoo-like Dark Mark, with a terrifying skull spewing out venomous snakes. It seemed that the tattoo had been there for a long time, as the ink had faded and the mark was somewhat dim.

"Igor Karkaroff." The young Mr. Crouch, looking quite spirited, said in a deep voice, "The Ministry of Magic, at your request, brought you out of Azkaban to provide evidence to the committee. If your testimony has any value, the committee may be able to reduce your sentence. But your current status remains that of a sinful Death Eater. Do you agree?"

"I accept, sir."

Besides fear, Karkaroff's voice also carried an unsettling, veiled mockery, and his tone was slick.

Crouch raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. "What are you willing to offer?"

"Provide a name, sir."

Harry stared at Karkaroff, and whether it was his imagination or not, he saw a hint of a smile flash across Karkaroff's disheveled face.

"There's Antonin Dolohov, Evan Rosier, Ludo Bagman, and also Travers, Mulciber ..."

Some wizards in the Ministry of Magic had heard the name before and quickly pulled out relevant information from the pile of files, confirming that Antonin Dolohov had been arrested, the Death Eater named Evan Rosier had been killed, Ludo Bagman had been caught red-handed while passing on intelligence...

In short, this string of names is of little value.

Karkaroff then named another Ministry of Ministry of Magic spy named Augustus Lestrange, but this was still not enough to absolve Karkaroff of his punishment. Just as Crouch was about to announce his re-imprisonment in Azkaban, panic finally showed on his face, and he gripped the bars tightly, shouting:

"No, wait, I also know, I have information... Severus Snape."

Harry turned his head and saw Snape adjusting the wide brim of his hat, looking as composed as if he weren't the one being reported.

Before the Ministry of Magic could react, Dumbledore stood up. "I have already made a statement to the committee regarding this matter. Snape is indeed a Death Eater, but he was already my informant before Voldemort's downfall..."

All the controversy vanished instantly. Crouch rubbed his eyes to ease his fatigue. "If the witness can't provide any more evidence to the committee, then you can go back to Azkaban..."

"No, no, no!"

Karkaroff brought his face closer to the cage, his eyes narrowing with a meaningful expression. "I know another one. This person tortured and killed several Muggle and half-blood wizards, participated in the manhunt, and used the Cruciatus Curse to torment the Auror Longbottoms..."

His voice grew louder and more impassioned, as if he were reciting the climax of a stage play.

"Who said his name?"

"Barty Crouch— " Karkaroff looked directly at the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the soon-to-be Minister for Magic, and murmured, "—the son of Barty Crouch."

As soon as the words fell, the entire room was stunned. Screams and whispers filled the air, simmering over Judge Crouch like boiling water.

The meeting was in complete chaos, and Barty Jr. Crouch Jr. was still somewhat dazed when he was brought before Crouch.

His previously frozen face brightened, but his eyes were the first to come alive and begin to move. Crouch looked down at his son, the son he was so proud of through the 12 OWLs, and pronounced with clear, articulate words:

"Because you have committed such a heinous crime, you are brought before the Wizengamot to await sentencing..."

Barty Jr. Crouch. shouted and argued at his father, but none of this could drown out Crouch's resounding judgment. "I now sentence you to life imprisonment in Azkaban on behalf of the jury!"

As the gavel fell, the entire space suddenly trembled.

Harry felt himself struck by a powerful spell and flung out of Snape's mind like a flying arrow, landing on the stool in front of the desk, where Professor Snape was sitting opposite him.

"Professor," Harry said in a panic, "I know I shouldn't... I didn't mean to..."

"Harry Potter, for offending the professor, for studying Dark Arts without permission, and for violating school rules..." Snape leaned back slightly, his upper face hidden in the shadows, making his expression unreadable. His voice lacked the expected anger, only a chilling coldness. "Gryffindor will deduct 50 points for this offense. Harry Potter will be confined for one month, under the supervision of Mr. Filch, the warden."

"Professor..."

"You can go now."

"..."

Harry felt his hands and feet start to sweat. He pursed his lips, glanced at the shadow where Snape was, wisely stood up, bowed, and left.

The wooden door to the office opened and closed several times before Snape finally got up from his chair and slowly strolled toward the storage room.

If Loren were here, he might be able to glean some joy from the way he walks.

"Dumbledore really senile. What's the point of him knowing about this kind of thing? He even wants me to do it..."

Snape's gaze swept across the storage room workbench, landing on the unanswered letter lying quietly beneath the brass crucible, a glint of light in his eyes.

The letter was from Lucius Malfoy, only two pages in haste. It didn't discuss business, nor did it mention Galleon. The first page inquired about his son Draco's recent performance and grades, while the second page was a casual conversation about old friends: Rosier, Wilkes, Lestrange, Avery ...

"It seems that Igor is not the only one who is fearful and uneasy."

Snape pressed his right hand against his left arm, his gaze fixed on the Black-wart Red-eyed Toad in the box, and remained there for a long time.

Bringing the dead back to life—what an enchanting phrase!

The dried-up, dilapidated specimen has come back to life, intently licking the crimson liquid in the round, tin-plated copper dish. With continued licking, the dried-out body is gradually becoming plump, and the black warts on its back are slowly swelling.

Snape gently fed a small flying insect to the Black-wart Red-eyed Toad, which remained motionless, still intently licking the medicine.

Their movements were so rigid it was utterly disheartening.