Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 615 Article Signature
"Were you trying to use the Stinging Charm?" Snape asked coldly, looking down at him.

“No, no,” Harry replied with a hint of resentment as he got up from the ground.

“I suppose so,” Snape said dismissively. “You let me in too deep; you lost control.”

"You, you saw everything?" Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to hear an answer.

“Some fragments,” Snape said, pursing his lips. “Whose dog is that?”

“Aunt Maggie,” Harry whispered, already hating Snape to the core.

“Well, for the first time, it wasn’t too bad.” Snape raised his wand again. “You finally stopped me, even though you wasted time and energy shouting and lecturing. This time, you must concentrate and use your brain to resist me. You don’t need a wand.”

“I will try my best!” Harry said angrily, “but you didn’t tell me how!”

“Politeness, Potter, politeness,” Snape said fiercely. “I thought Tyella had already taught you some basics.”

“Tierra only threw me a book,” Harry said dejectedly.

"Ha." Snape chuckled in a low voice. "It seems Mr. Potter isn't a student who enjoys reading."

Harry remained silent.

"Now, I want you to close your eyes," Snape said after his taunt.

Harry glared at him before doing as he was told.

He didn't like standing there with his eyes closed, especially with Snape standing in front of him holding his wand.

"Clear your mind, Potter," Snape said in a cold voice. "Discard all emotions."

But the anger towards Snape still surged through his veins like venom. Should he let go of the anger?
Wouldn't it be easier to just lose a leg?
“You haven’t done it, Potter. You need to restrain yourself, focus, and begin!” Snape’s cold voice rang out again.

Harry tried to clear his mind, to stop thinking, to stop remembering, to stop feeling.

"Again! I'll count to three, one—two—three—Seize the mind!"

A giant black dragon bared its fangs and claws before him.
His parents waved to him in the magic mirror.
Tierra collapsed weakly to the ground, lying in front of him, staring at him blankly.
"No—!" Harry knelt on the ground again, burying his face in his hands, his head throbbing as if someone was trying to pull it out of his skull.

“Get up!” Snape snapped. “Get up! You did nothing, you made no effort, and by showing me the memories you fear, you are handing me a weapon!”

Harry stood up, his heart pounding as if he had just seen Tyrell die in the graveyard.

Snape looked paler and angrier than usual, though not nearly as angry as Harry.

“I—tried—it,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I told you to put aside your feelings!" Snape scolded.

“Really? I think it’s going to be hard to do now,” Harry roared.

“Then you will be easily manipulated by the Dark Lord!” Snape said cruelly. “Proud, emotional fools who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories, who are so easily agitated—in short, weak people, who are no match for his magic! It will be easy for him to invade your mind, Potter!”

“I’m not weak,” Harry said in a low voice, burning with rage and feeling he might punch Snape any second. “Then prove it! Control yourself!” Snape snapped. “Control your anger, control your mind! We’ll do it again! Ready! Legilimency!”

He watched as his Uncle Vernon nailed the mailbox shut.
One hundred Dementors floated towards him from the lake.
Harry collapsed onto the floor of Snape's office again, his scars throbbing with pain.

Snape looked down at Harry with a mixture of disappointment and expectation.

"That's enough for today," Snape said coldly. "I expect you to come back at the same time next Saturday so we can continue practicing."

“Okay, okay,” Harry said, eager to leave Snape’s office and go find Tyella.

“Every night before you go to sleep, you must clear your mind of all emotions—make your mind blank and calm, understand?” Snape said.

“I understand,” Harry said, but he barely listened.

“Watch out, Potter, I’ll know if you’ve been practicing,” Snape warned.

“Yes,” Harry said quietly, then slung his backpack over his shoulder and hurried toward the door.

As he opened the door, he glanced back at Snape, who was facing away from Harry, using his wand to lift Snape's thoughts from the Pensieve and carefully place them back into his mind.

Harry gently closed the door, his scar still throbbing, and then fled from the gloomy, damp basement.

Harry found Ron and Hermione in the library. Hermione was calculating something, and even Ron was doing exercises in a book.

The other students were also sitting at the lit tables, their noses pressed against their books, frantically scribbling something with their quill pens.

These were almost all students who had taken Tiera's Black Magic course. Most of them were students from the slow and regular classes who had just enrolled. They were frowning and writing furiously as they worked on the large number of calculation problems assigned by Tiera.

The sky outside the window was already completely dark, and the only sound in the library was the soft clatter of Mrs. Pince's shoes.

She patrolled the aisle menacingly, breathing heavily on the necks of anyone who touched her precious books.

Harry was shivering a little; the scar was still aching, and he even felt like he might have a fever.

As he sat down opposite Ron and Hermione, he saw his reflection in the window, which was filled with darkness—

He looked very pale, and the scar on his forehead seemed more noticeable than before.

"How are you?" Hermione asked softly, then looked worried. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"Uh, no, it's nothing, I...I don't know," Harry said, sounding a little annoyed, the scar on his forehead making him frown in pain. "Where's Tyella?"

“He’s still calculating some conditions,” Hermione replied. “He’s presupposed the effects of several gravitational environments and time-flow rates on the refining of Sigma-77 solid, Gamma-31 solvent, Gamma-14 solid, and Delta-4 gas. So he first used mathematical calculations to presuppose several possible models. Tiera is currently experimenting with which of these possible models has the highest success rate in refining these components, and then exploring a standard protocol. Anyway, we don’t lack materials at all right now, so we should take this opportunity to explore and discover more…”

Hermione looked extremely excited, chattering away to Harry about Tyrell's latest research findings.

“Tiera said he not only hopes to successfully refine the Philosopher's Stone, but he also hopes to improve the existing refining method through this process and create a more successful and simpler method,” Hermione said, clearly a little too excited. “And he promised me that I would be the third author on the article about the overall industrial process! I would be the second author on the articles about improving the methods for each solvent! And, and, and most importantly, he could also give me some top-secret information—the kind of internal documents—so I could write a comprehensive overview of the history of Philosopher's Stone refining as the first author!”

(End of this chapter)