Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Vid met the scrutinizing gaze across from him, without evasion.

“I didn’t convince him.”

He said calmly, “Professor Dumbledore believes I need to master this knowledge to handle… more complex situations in the future.”

“Professor, you should know as well, if he didn’t have this intention, no matter how much I pleaded, Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t agree.”

Snape’s eyebrow twitched slightly.

This was what puzzled him.

Snape always felt Dumbledore should be like himself—

On one hand, because he cherished Vid’s talent and admired his attitude, he would try to protect him;

On the other hand, because he always saw a glimpse of Voldemort’s shadow in this young man, he subconsciously maintained high vigilance, guiding his growth more strictly.

—For instance, limiting Vid’s access to certain dangerous knowledge he shouldn’t touch.

But now it seemed, Dumbledore’s judgment differed from his own?

Snape sat there, his black eyes fixed on Vid, lowly murmuring: “… more complex situations?”

Vid pondered for a moment.

He suddenly thought, as a double agent, Snape should be better at lying than anyone, even wizards at Voldemort’s level had never seen through his lies.

And such a person might crave the truth more than anyone.

He carefully considered his experiences in the United States.

Even though externally he must conceal the fact he wasn’t at Hogwarts during that time; most of what happened could be shared with Snape.

But to reveal everything would be too troublesome.

After deliberation, Vid said, “Professor Abigail’s death is actually related to a guy in the United States known as ‘Dream Weaver’.”

Snape’s expression barely changed, but his pupils constricted briefly.

Vid continued, “He’s a Goblin very adept in Memory Magic, able to modify, erase, and weave others’ memories at will.”

“Professor Abigail’s memories were repeatedly altered by him, until just before her death, she realized who she truly was; she also knew her entire life was fake—the people she loved, hated, the beliefs she chased, were all things planted into her mind by others.”

“That Goblin…” Snape frowned and asked, “He’s the reason Dumbledore left the school this time?”

Vid shook his head, “No, he is already dead.”

“But behind the ‘Dream Weaver’, there are hidden accomplices, surely possessing skilled Memory Magic users among them.”

The throat of the Professor of Potions moved slightly, the candlelight casting shadows in his deeply set eyes, making it hard to discern his emotions.

Vid Gray’s tone… as if he personally witnessed the Goblin’s death… even orchestrated the outcome himself.

And Dumbledore… preferring to share these matters with a young man who hasn’t graduated, rather than discussing with them?

Snape secretly gritted his teeth.

He lifted his eyes and asked, “What was his purpose in controlling Abigail?”

Vid said, “To make her a loyal Scourer spy… to ensure the Wizards vanish completely from the world.”

For a long moment, Snape said nothing.

He sat there, eyes lowered, face as pale as usual, the blue veins on his neck visible.

Countless fragmented pieces of information rapidly flashed through his mind:

Snippets from newspapers, the upheaval in the American Magic Congress, Dumbledore’s noticeable emotional shifts last term, Voldemort frequently going off-grid, Lucius Malfoy executing similar yet entirely different tasks…

Endless clues collided, intertwined, seemingly unrelated.

He seemed to grab a handful of puzzle pieces, faintly glimpsing some truth.

Yet upon careful sorting, he found the puzzle too fragmented, scattered up, down, left, right, missing several critical pieces to link the entire puzzle, rendering it impossible to form a complete picture.

But if that were the case… Dumbledore’s belief that Vid needed to master more advanced Memory Magic became understandable.

He indeed needed it.

After a long while, Snape finally spoke.

“I won’t ask how you know,” he said, “I won’t ask what you’ve done.”

Snape looked at Vid, his tone very serious: “I can teach you, but you must promise—never use this power in the wrong place.”

Vid nodded, “I know, Professor.”

Snape sneered, “No, you don’t… Kids your age rarely understand the dangers of Memory Magic.”

“Most Wizards’ understanding of Memory Magic remains at ‘oh, make the foolish Muggle forget the scene of casting spells they saw’.”

“Or like some foolish students hoping to make the professor forget their homework assignments.”

—But this is a very shallow understanding.”

Snape rose and walked past the office bookshelf, the edge of his black cloak brushing against the homework stacked on the desk.

He slowly said, “Memory Magic, in a sense, it’s more wicked and dangerous than the Unforgivable Curses.”

“It can make someone completely lose their past, forfeit their dignity and pride, turn their most trusted into enemies, their beloved into foes, or even willingly become a dog.”

“When memory magic takes effect, the real person has already been completely killed. Worse, he won’t even know he’s been killed once.”

“You say Abigail learned the truth before her death?”

“Then she was actually fortunate. Because most victims of memory magic never have a chance to recover!”

“So Dumbledore asked me to teach you this magic, I originally disagreed… But he always has his reasons…. He always makes one have to agree to his requests, or rather his orders…”

Towards the end, his tone uncontrollably turned sharp, even carrying some resentment.

Vid silently stared at the papers on the table, not daring to speak rashly.

Snape quickly noticed, his voice paused, promptly switching the topic:

“In any case, before learning Memory Magic, you must first learn to protect your mind. Let me confirm… you should have learned Occlumency?”

Vid sat up a bit straighter, “Yes, Professor.”

Snape curled his lips, revealing a smile full of apparent malice.

“Then let me see how skilled you are… Mind Reading!”

Snape struck swiftly, a spell rapidly hitting Vid, then rebounded without pause, striking back on Snape, causing the tall, slim Professor of Potions to stagger, almost losing his grip on the magic wand.