Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 369 The first class of closed-brain sleep-read, kid.

Hera looked at Harry for a long time, felt the stubble on this chin with her fingers, and then spoke slowly, as if considering each word.

"The Dark Lord didn't seem to know about this connection between you and him. Before that, it seemed that you could perceive his emotions and thoughts, but he didn't. But, your dream before Christmas—"

"Mr. Weasley and the snake?"

"I'm afraid that's the case," Hera nodded, her expression becoming much more serious. "And, it's a serious matter, and I think it frightens the Dark Lord."

"I was in the snake's head, not his, wasn't I? I remember it well."

"It's hard to explain a sentence or two clearly, but you have to know," Hera sighed, "this is definitely not a good thing."

"Okay, but what I perceive is Voldemort's thoughts, how can I see things with snake eyes?" Harry asked unwillingly.But this made Hera's face ugly.

"Don't say the name of the Dark Lord, Harry." Hera said solemnly.

There was a moment of silence, and they looked at each other silently across the table.

"But Dumbledore also said his name." Harry whispered, and it seemed that Hera had such a good relationship with him that Harry treated Hera so well, and even used Dumbledore to suppress him.

If Harry knew that not long ago, Dumbledore had begged Hera to kill him, how would he react?

I'm afraid Harry will never know about it
"Dumbledore is a powerful wizard," Hera explained softly to Harry. He could understand Dumbledore's purpose in doing this. Fear is a useless emotion. If you blindly make people fear the name, it will only deepen people's fear and make them completely lose the courage to fight. But now the situation is different, and Voldemort has been resurrected. "He may not mince the name. But the rest of us"

Hera sighed, gently touched the wand in her pocket with her fingers, and patiently explained to Harry the most basic common sense among wizards.

"I just want to know," Harry asked again inexplicably, he didn't seem to realize how much Hera wanted to skip the subject, "why—"

"Looks like you got into the snake's brain, because the Dark Lord was there," Hera interrupted Harry roughly, he was eager to get into the formal Occlumency class as soon as possible, explaining such innocuous common sense to Harry was really too much trouble.

After all, he was still going to die at the hands of Voldemort, it was his fate.

"He must have been inside the snake then, so you dreamed you were inside."

"That volt—has he found me?"

"That's why we're here." Hera said speechlessly, this doesn't even require any magical foundation, it's just the most basic logical reasoning ability that even a Muggle possesses.If Voldemort hadn't found Harry, how could Dumbledore have asked Snape to teach Harry Occlumency?

"Dumbledore's speculation, or—?"

"I'm afraid this is the real news, otherwise he wouldn't have asked Severus to come here on purpose - just for a guess." Hera said dryly. He went back behind the desk, took out the textbook of basic Occlumency knowledge from it, and put it on the table. "We'd better start with the basics. I'm afraid you don't know what Occlumency is before. You have to learn it."

"Yes, Hera." Harry looked bitterly at the book with a dark cover that was at least five feet high, and he wished that Hera could teach him in a simple way, such as a very interesting lecture like Hera's in class, instead of using the most disgusting way of reading textbooks like Umbridge.

"Don't be like this, Harry." Hera frowned. "Occlumency requires a lot of understanding. You need to sum up experience from other experienced wizards and find your own way. It's like the Patronus Charm. The happy memories that everyone wants to recall are different."

"Yes, yes, that's it." Harry sighed heavily, picked up the top one and put it on his knees, and started flipping through it. In fact, he was surprised to find that there were a lot of notes in the book.

"Don't look at me like that, I didn't write it, it should be a student or professor who borrowed it before." Hera glanced at the content of the book, and drew a lot of horizontal lines with red ink, and there were some weird graffiti that couldn't be seen clearly.

"Of course, I will tell you what you need to read. I will tell you that we don't have much time, and we must set aside time for you to practice, but I'm afraid this week is unlikely." Hera took the book in Harry's hand, flipped it quickly from beginning to end, and tapped heavily on the most basic content, "You should read this part first."

"Okay," said Harry, nodding quickly.

"Harry, before you go to bed every night, you have to get rid of all emotions - keep your mind blank and calm, understand?" Hera said when Harry was a little dizzy.

"Understood," Harry said, but he barely listened, his mind mostly filled with "Occlumency Needs." ".restraining emotional construction"

"You'd better listen to me, because next week Severus should be giving you a lesson. He's a master of Occlumency, and he'll know if you've practiced it or not."

"Okay." Harry looked worried.

Hera was leaning on the back of the chair, with one hand lightly resting on the armrest, knocking unhurriedly, and holding a copy of "Secrets of Advanced Dark Arts" in the other hand, which was Dumbledore's personal inventory. When Hera left Dumbledore's office, he gave it to Hera, saying that it would be useful to Hera.

This night's class passed quickly, and Harry was dizzy from watching it, and Hera was almost the same. His hands were sore from reading it, but there were a few pages in the middle of "Secrets of Advanced Dark Arts" that were obviously dead, and Hera didn't know what was on it. Maybe it was some extremely evil black magic, so evil that even Dumbledore didn't think Hera could read it.

"But in general, the spells here are terrible, aren't they?" Hera closed the book, a wry smile appeared on the corner of her mouth, the spell that can kill a person definitely requires extremely powerful malice, which is a difficult task for Hera—after all, it is Dumbledore, and Hera has always lacked courage.

"I hope everything goes as smoothly as Dumbledore planned."

There were murmurs from the office on the fourth floor, but no one heard them.

"."

After Harry left Hera's office, he went straight to the library, where the fifth grade prefects were there almost whenever they had time - Ron was simply forced by Hermione.In fact, the two of them were catching up with a new pile of homework assigned by Umbridge.The other students, almost all of whom were in the fifth grade, were also sitting at the lamp-lit desk, with their noses on the books, scribbling wildly with feather brushes.The sky outside the window was getting darker and darker, and the only sound was Mrs. Pince's shoes clicking softly.As she paced the aisles, the students brought so much pressure that she even breathed on the necks of those who touched her precious books.

Harry was shivering a little, the scar suddenly hurt a little, he felt a little fever, but it was just his own imagination, he didn't have a fever at all.Sitting down across from Hermione, Ron caught sight of himself in the window, very pale, and his scars seemed more prominent than usual.

"How is it?" Hermione asked quietly, and then looked worried. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Well, I don't know." Harry said irritably, frowning in pain, he somewhat agreed with Hera's words, maybe he really needs to learn Occlumency, at least his scar won't hurt - if it can cut off the connection with Voldemort.

For the second private lesson a week later, Snape was no longer ruling Hera - he was going to teach Harry himself Occlumency.Hera was also happy to be free, but it was destined to be difficult for him to have a leisurely time, because on Thursday morning, the Order of the Phoenix encountered a major setback, or on Wednesday night, but that was not important.

"Azkaban Multiplayer Mass Escape"

That was the headline in the Daily Prophet Thursday morning, and in fact, it sent a chill through the minds of nearly everyone who read the paper. It wasn't good news.

As the prison with the strictest guards, Azkaban can escape from it, which is easily reminiscent of a bad direction-the dementors have rebelled.

In fact, in the last wizarding war, the dementors were Voldemort's capable generals, because only Voldemort could satisfy their terrible desire to absorb human souls at will, which is almost impossible for anyone else, and only Voldemort would set such excessive conditions.

He always brought strange creatures such as werewolves, vampires, goblins, and dementors into his camp, and promised some exaggerated and exaggerated conditions, just to be able to overwhelm Dumbledore - he who was afraid of Dumbledore could only rely on numbers to win.

And this is what the newspaper says:
The front page is covered with ten black-and-white photos, the faces of nine wizards and one witch, some laughing silently, and some haughtily tapping their fingers on the frame.Each photo has a name and the crime of being imprisoned in Azkaban.

Antonin Dolokhov, a wizard with a long, pale, distorted face who sneered at those who read the newspapers, brutally murdered Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

August Rookwood, a greasy-haired, pockmarked man leaning against the border with a tired expression, revealed the secrets of the Ministry of Magic to the mysterious man.

But Hera's eyes were attracted by the witch.Her face had come to him the first time he looked at the newspaper, her long black hair disheveled in the photographs, but Hera had seen it smooth and jet-black.Her eyes stared at him from under thick lids, and a haughty, contemptuous smile played on her thin lips.She still retains some traces of her beauty, but something—perhaps Azkaban—has taken most of her beauty away.

"Bellatrix." Hera said the name through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yes, I think that's right. I don't know how the Ministry of Magic works, but let them run out!" Professor Flitwick was about to explode with rage. As he said, he slapped the table so hard that he almost jumped on the table, ran up to Umbridge, and punched her hard in the face.

However, Umbridge's face was no different from a punch. She naturally saw the content in the newspaper. Her hands were trembling, and her face was turning blue and white. This made everyone who saw her feel happy, but soon filled with worry.

"It can't be solved, right?" Hera couldn't imagine what Bellatrix would do after she came out of Azkaban. She had obviously gone crazy. Even though she wasn't very rational at first, there was no doubt that she was going crazy now.

"I don't know. To be honest, I don't have much confidence in the Ministry of Magic." Professor Flitwick said to Hera in a low voice. It's not good to say this in public, so as not to cause panic among the students. God knows what they will do.

Hera nodded, expressing deep sympathy, "At first, I quite trusted the Ministry of Magic, after all, you know, I used to do business in that area."

"No one cares about your past, Hera, what matters is what we do now." Professor Flitwick patted Hera on the shoulder. The chair he was standing on was padded with several thick books, which made it easier for him to reach Hera.

"Gentlemen, what are you going to do?" Umbridge came over at some point, as if she felt very painful because of the incident at the Ministry of Magic, and planned to find some trouble with Hera and Flitwick, maybe this would make her relax.

"We plan to enjoy our breakfast." Hera said dryly, but seeing Umbridge's expression, she quickly added, "Is there anyone who can't eat this breakfast? Yes, after all, some people are too useless."

"You—Mr. Lestrange, you'd better not give me any clues, or—"

"There's no such possibility. I'm too clean." Hera interrupted Umbridge, and at the same time looked at Professor Flitwick's dirty eyes. "Is that right, Felius?"

"Of course, we are all innocent teachers." Professor Flitwick nodded, picked up a sandwich and began to chew. "Today's corned beef is really good. This must be Wagyu from the far east. You know, their methods of breeding beef are quite good."

"I think it's like yak meat, because it's a bit too tough."

"Hmm." Professor Flitwick covered his mouth in pain, "It's stuck between my teeth, maybe you're right, it's a yak."

Umbridge left angrily, because she found that she had nothing to do with these two guys, and staying here was nothing but anger at herself.

(End of this chapter)