The Silent Witch of Hogwarts

Chapter 654 Dream

"Harry————"

In the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Dumbledore nodded slightly as Harry entered the room, then silently tidied up the parchment and other items on the table.

"Headmaster Dumbledore—" Looking at Dumbledore before him, Harry asked somewhat excitedly, "Your hand is—"

What's wrong?

"Ah—" Dumbledore slightly revealed his right hand, a charred, decaying hand that exuded a deathly aura.

"It was just a little accident," he said. "I thought I hid it well enough at the opening ceremony."

"Is it really just a minor accident?" Harry asked uncertainly, looking at the hand that made him feel slightly uneasy just by looking at it, and he didn't think it was just a minor matter.

"Of course," Dumbledore shrugged. "Life is full of little surprises—it's just that this one is relatively big."

Then, Dumbledore changed the subject and casually asked, "How's your spell practice going?"

"Spells—" Harry didn't really want to discuss this, but seeing Dumbledore's serious expression, he nodded slightly and said, "I've learned quite a few spells."

"I learned a lot from the four great masters of Hogwarts—and Sirius Black—." Harry said, then seemed to remember something and asked, "And—what about Professor Hamilton?"

"Is she coming back this year?"

"Miss Hamilton will not be returning," Dumbledore said slowly. "At least not for now."

He paused abruptly, then asked somewhat abruptly, "Since summer vacation, have you still dreamed about Voldemort?"

"—" Harry's expression stiffened slightly upon hearing this. He paused and said, "Yes—"

"I dreamt about him—he talked about Professor Hamilton."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore nodded knowingly, then asked, "Anything else?"

"I also—I also dreamed about the Ansbach family—and the Sorcerers—" Harry said, looking confused. "The Ansbach family—is that the Siegfried family of Durmstrang?"

Dumbledore didn't answer the question, but after thinking for a long time, he said, "Harry—I have something to tell you."

"Um----?"

"What you call a dream isn't a dream in some ways—you should already know that, right?"

Dumbledore's words made Harry purse his lips and then nod slightly: "I—I can probably sense it."

"Because many of the things I dreamed about eventually came true—and they were all about Voldemort—Dumbledore, am I a prophet for Magus?"

'

""

Dumbledore fell silent upon hearing this. He looked into Harry's eyes and gently shook his head: "Harry, becoming a prophet Magus isn't so easy—"

"And true prophecy is much more difficult," Dumbledore said, handing Harry a honey tsunamis.

"Have some candy," he said. "Let's talk while we eat."

Harry looked at the candy and Dumbledore's slightly charred hand, then finally pursed his lips and picked it up.

Watching Harry pick up the candy and pop it into his mouth, Dumbledore continued, "Harry, well, since you can dream about Voldemort..."

"Is there a possibility—" Dumbledore's face remained expressionless, as if he were merely uttering a thought casually: "Could Voldemort also see your thoughts?"

"Huh? Cough cough cough—cough cough cough!" Having just put the candy in his mouth, Harry couldn't help but cough violently, saying between coughs, "This—this can't be, can it? Dumbledore—Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"uncertain."

Dumbledore's answer prompted Harry to instinctively ask, "Then—and what's the reason, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Is it some kind of curse?"

"No," Dumbledore said, shaking his head slightly. "The answer to that question—I don't know either."

"But I can tell you," he said, "that's entirely possible."

"Voldemort might just dream about our conversation."

"—" Dumbledore's words left Harry momentarily at a loss. If Voldemort could see him too—

—Wouldn't that mean—

Wait a minute—after thinking about it carefully, Harry felt that there wasn't anything in his life that could be spied on.

After all, as a student, it seems like all I do besides training is attend classes.

But that shouldn't be a reason for others to look at it casually, right?

"Don't worry, Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, noticing his concern. "There is a way to resolve this."

"What—what method?"

"That's learning spells." Dumbledore said, nodding slightly. "Harry, is your first class this afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

'

"Ah—yes." Harry felt a headache coming on just thinking about it—because the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was Snape, who was doing everything he could to make things difficult for him.

Although he used to cause trouble during Potions class, as time went by, he had already caused most of the trouble he could.

But Defense Against the Dark Arts isn't all—Snape has found several different angles to cause trouble in this new class—which is not a good thing!

Harry felt as if he had returned to his first year at Hogwarts.

"You don't like Professor Snape, do you?" Dumbledore asked with a slight smirk.

"————" Harry didn't answer the question, but the answer was obvious.

Seeing his expression, Dumbledore chuckled. "Professor Snape may be a little eccentric at times, but believe me, Harry."

"He is a conscientious and responsible person."

"So—go find him after today's Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

"what?"

"Then tell him you want to learn Occlumency," Dumbledore said. "Only then can you prevent Voldemort from seeing your thoughts."

"But he—" Harry's head ached at the mere mention of Snape's name; he'd rather have a troll teach him.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, are you... alright?"

"Sorry, Harry." Dumbledore shrugged. "I have a lot of work to do."

"And—" he raised his hand and waved it, "it's not good to trouble a patient like this."

'

""

"Then—then Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked persistently, only to be met with a shake of Dumbledore's head.

"Go find Professor Snape."

'

'

Harry sighed helplessly. If Professor Hamilton were here, that would be great—after all, she would definitely be more suitable than Snape, wouldn't she?