Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

have thought that after over two months of lessons you might have made some progress. How many other dreams about the Dark Lord have you had?’
    ‘Just that one,’ lied Harry.
    ‘Perhaps,’ said Snape, his dark, cold eyes narrowing slightly, ‘perhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel special – important?’
    ‘No, they don’t,’ said Harry, his jaw set and his fingers clenched tightly around the handle of his wand.
    ‘That is just as well, Potter,’ said Snape coldly, ‘because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters.’
    ‘No – that’s your job, isn’t it?’ Harry shot at him.
    He had not meant to say it; it had burst out of him in temper. For a long moment they stared at each other, Harry convinced he had gone too far. But there was a curious, almost satisfied expression on Snape’s face when he answered.
    ‘Yes, Potter,’ he said, his eyes glinting. ‘That is my job. Now, if you are ready, we will start again.’
    He raised his wand: ‘One – two – three – Legilimens !’
    A hundred Dementors were swooping towards Harry across the lake in the grounds … he screwed up his face in concentration … they were coming closer … he could see the dark holes beneath their hoods … yet he could also see Snape standing in front of him, his eyes fixed on Harry’s face, muttering under his breath … and somehow, Snape was growing clearer, and the Dementors were growing fainter …
    Harry raised his own wand.
    ‘Protego!’
    Snape staggered – his wand flew upwards, away from Harry – and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his: a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner … a greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies … a girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick –
    ‘ENOUGH!’
    Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he staggered several steps backwards, hit some of the shelves covering Snape’s walls and heard something crack. Snape was shaking slightly, and was very white in the face.
    The back of Harry’s robes was damp. One of the jars behind him had broken when he fell against it; the pickled slimy thing within was swirling in its draining potion.
    ‘ Reparo ,’ hissed Snape, and the jar sealed itself at once. ‘Well, Potter … that was certainly an improvement …’ Panting slightly, Snape straightened the Pensieve in which he had again stored some of his thoughts before starting the lesson, almost as though he was checking they were still there. ‘I don’t remember telling you to use a Shield Charm … but there is no doubt that it was effective …’
    Harry did not speak; he felt that to say anything might be dangerous. He was sure he had just broken into Snape’s memories, that he had just seen scenes from Snape’s childhood. It was unnerving to think that the little boy who had been crying as he watched his parents shouting was actually standing in front of him with such loathing in his eyes.
    ‘Let’s try again, shall we?’ said Snape.
    Harry felt a thrill of dread; he was about to pay for what had just happened, he was sure of it. They moved back into position with the desk between them, Harry feeling he was going to find it much harder to empty his mind this time.
    ‘On the count of three, then,’ said Snape, raising his wand once more. ‘One – two –’
    Harry did not have time to gather himself together and attempt to clear his mind before Snape cried, ‘Legilimens!’
    He was hurtling along the corridor towards the Department of Mysteries, past the blank stone walls, past the torches – the plain black door was growing ever larger; he was moving so fast he was going to collide with it, he was feet from it and again he could see that chink of faint blue light –
    The door had flown open! He was through it at last, inside a black-walled, black-floored circular room lit with blue-flamed candles, and there were more doors all around him – he needed to go on – but which door ought he to take –?
    ‘POTTER!’
    Harry opened his eyes. He was flat on his back again with no memory of having got there; he was also panting as though he really had run the length of the Department of Mysteries corridor, really had sprinted