Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

The scene unfolds before his eyes, with Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, his long silver-white beard draping over his chest.

This time, Vid examines the memory he personally crafted with the perspective of an observer.

The half-minute conversation ends quickly, and Vid feels as though his chest has been pushed, his body leaning back as he instinctively withdraws from Snape’s memory.

The Professor of Potions still maintains the posture of leaning back against his chair, his calm black eyes observing him.

Silence stretches between them for a few seconds as Vid closes his eyes, reflecting on everything he just saw.

”What did you discover?” Snape asks.

”The portrait on the wall... seemed a bit unclear,” Vid slowly says, ”Behind Dumbledore was supposed to be Armando Dippet, but it became Phineas Black instead.”

Vid is quite familiar with Phineas Black due to the Principal of Slytherin’s habit of suddenly chiming in, so he subconsciously used his image.

Snape slightly lifts his chin, ”What else?”

”And Fox,” Vid sighs, ”I portrayed it incorrectly.”

In this memory, ”Fox” was smaller than the original version, and unlike the overwhelmingly golden-red and brilliant feathers of a Phoenix, its feathers resembled flowing flames.

That wasn’t Fox, it was Vid’s Firebird, Mikhail.

Snape nods, having noticed this detail at first glance.

”And...”

Vid pauses, then says, ”We were wearing winter clothes, but the scenery outside the window was summertime... Sorry, I was probably too focused on the relationship between light and shadow just now, resulting in such a basic mistake.”

He finishes speaking.

The office falls silent for a moment before Snape speaks again:

”Very well... I’m pleased that you can acknowledge the issues from an observer’s perspective.”

”This is the hardest part of Concentration Forming—when shaping memory, you are the creator, choosing what you consider the most important aspects to present.”

”The parts you subconsciously overlook can easily become your loopholes.”

”So be careful not to project your own experiences, avoiding using familiar things to fill the gaps. You must entirely step out from the memory and examine every detail from an observer’s perspective.”

”Also, your failure actually began with choosing the Headmaster’s Office as your stage.”

”The more complex the environment, the easier it is to make mistakes. As a beginner, I suggest starting by the Black Lake or on a balcony...”

”An easier method is to choose nighttime. Thanks to the castle’s dim candlelight, you’ll find your workload reduced by about half.”

”Of course, these are just temporary shortcuts. To truly fully master this magic, you still need to start with the details...”

Snape waves his Magic Wand, causing smoke from the fireplace to puff out into the air, forming a somewhat unclear picture.

This is precisely the memory image Vid had faked moments ago.

The Professor of Potions points out various flaws Vid failed to notice, from the placement of the Quill on the desk to the length of fingers, from the folds of clothing to the firewood in the fireplace, it seems even a single strand of hair is riddled with flaws in his eyes.

Ten minutes later, Vid attempts a second time.

Then a third... fourth... fifth time...

It isn’t until nearly curfew time that the Professor of Potions finally nods.

”Barely able to deceive someone—unless you choose a target as meticulous as Granger.”

He says with reluctance, ”However, as someone practicing this Spell for the first time, your progress... barely passes.”

Vid subtly exhales, lowers his Magic Wand, and softly says, ”Thank you, Professor.”

”Before concluding today’s lesson,” Snape says, ”Answer me one question, Vid.”

Vid looks up at him.

Snape says, ”In the process of crafting memories, you repeatedly review them, scrutinize them, adding countless details, even richer than real memories.”

”During this process, this memory will also continually strengthen its presence in your mind, until even if someone uses Mind Reading on you, they’ll only see the fabricated memory, rather than the real part beneath the surface.”

”But, Vid...”

The Professor of Potions leans slightly forward, his gaze fixing on Vid, softly asking:

”At that point, can you truly distinguish?”

”—What is false, and what truly happened?”

”Perhaps two years later, or three years later, you’ll only remember the replica you created... Maybe the self you think you know, isn’t really you at all?”

Vid falls into silence.

The human brain is truly remarkable, not objectively backing up and retrieving like a video recorder, but rather forgetting and reconstructing.

Some people, when encountering certain scenes, their brain extracts fragmented information stored in the past, making them feel ”strikingly similar.”

And for others, upon repeatedly stressing certain things, even if they didn’t really happen, the brain unconsciously recreates related memories, overwriting the original ones.

And ”Concentration Forming,” in reality, is precisely a process of proactively overwriting.

But if the real memory truly gets thoroughly overwritten, what’s the difference from proactively using ”Obliviate” on oneself?

Snape doesn’t wait for Vid to come to a conclusion; instead, he directly provides the answer:

”When using Concentration Forming, you must remember — to set an ’anchor’ for yourself, something that doesn’t change no matter what, helping you discern real from fake, preventing you from getting lost in your self-crafted lies.”

”Go on, this is your task for the next week.”

His gaze circles Vid’s face once, then he reaches for the Quill, dragging the student’s homework in front of him, saying:

”When you come next week, I hope you’ve figured out what your ’anchor’ is.”

Vid gets up, hesitantly saying, ”But Professor, you haven’t exactly taught me how to set my ’anchor’.”

Snape doesn’t lift his head; his voice seems to come from the shadows:

”It’s an anchor point in your memory, anything can be an ’anchor.’ The most crucial thing is that it’s a unique symbol for you, yet won’t arouse others’ suspicion.”

”Take some time to think it over.”

”Yes, Professor... Good night, Professor.”

Vid stands up and walks towards the door. As he grips the doorknob, Snape’s voice comes from behind him:

”Gray.”

Vid turns his head.

Snape still sits there, his eyes faintly glowing in the dark.

”Dumbledore had his reasons for letting you learn these things.”

He says, ”But remember—memory is the most honest liar. It won’t lie to you because it only tells you what you are willing to believe.”

Vid looks at him and nods.

The door closes behind him.

The sound of the closing door echoes, and after quite a while, a whisper resounds in the Professor of Potions’ office:

”Monster...”