Hogwarts i am snape

Snape showed Dumbledore's signed library pass to his friends. "I need your help."

"Unlimited access?" Abbott took the note, curious. "How on earth did you get one of these?"

"The Headmaster gave it to me," Snape said, taking the note back. "This isn't a good place to talk. Let's walk by the lake."

The four of them descended the stone steps, the lake surface like a mirror.

Once Snape confirmed they were alone, Nagini slowly poked her head out from his collar.

"A snake?" Barty Jr. cautiously stepped back. "It won't bite you?"

Snape extended his left hand, allowing Nagini to coil around his wrist, then placed her on the ground.

"She," he corrected, "she was once a human girl. Only due to a curse, she's trapped in a snake's body."

"Maledictus?" Pandora blurted out.

"What's that?" Abbott and Barty Jr. asked in unison, their faces filled with confusion and apprehension.

"An ancient, hereditary blood curse," Snape explained. "A Maledictus is a female suffering from a blood curse. Initially, they can control their transformations, but eventually, this curse permanently turns the victim into an animal, ultimately leading to a complete loss of humanity."

"Nagini's condition is worsening. Her soul is trapped in the snake's body, and the curse is devouring her remaining humanity." He looked up at his companions. "Time is running out. I need your help to go to the library and see if we can find anything that can help her."

Pandora crouched down, meeting Nagini's gaze, her eyes full of pity. "How much time does she have?"

"Uncertain," Snape shook his head. "Could be a few days, or longer. But every day, she loses more of her humanity."

"But how do you know all this, Severus?" Abbott asked, perplexed. "I mean, I can't tell the difference between her and an ordinary snake."

"I can understand what she says," Snape hesitated, then decided to tell them. "Parseltongue."

"Come, Nagini." At his hiss, Nagini obediently climbed onto his shoulder, resting her head against his neck.

"You can speak Parseltongue?" A flicker of eagerness crossed Barty Jr.'s face. "No wonder you weren't willing to join..."

"Cough, cough," Snape quickly interrupted him. "Anyway, Professor Dumbledore also knows about this. As friends, I'm willing to trust you, but I still hope you can keep it a secret."

Pandora was the first to nod. She reached out to touch Nagini, then stopped halfway.

"What are we waiting for?" She turned towards the library. "If there's anything we can do to help her, let's not waste any time."

Abbott and Barty Jr. exchanged glances and nodded slightly.

"Thank you," Snape said.

In the library, Madam Pince sat alone behind the desk at the entrance.

"Working hard so early?" she asked drily, looking at them suspiciously.

Snape stepped forward and pulled out the parchment. "We need access to the Restricted Section, Madam. Approved by the Headmaster."

Madam Pince snatched the note, squinting to scrutinize every stroke of the writing as if she suspected it might be a forged document. Her lips moved silently as she read its contents.

"'Permit Severus Snape and his designated companions to consult any material in the Restricted Section,'" she looked up, displeased. "This is too broad. Usually, professors specify exact titles."

"It is indeed the Headmaster's signature," Snape pointed out calmly. "You can ask Professor Dumbledore yourself."

Madam Pince straightened up as if offended.

"I will verify it, young man. You wait here." She clutched the parchment tightly and hurried out of the library, her footsteps echoing in the stone corridor.

"She thinks we'd forge the Headmaster's signature?" Abbott rolled his eyes, slumping onto the hard wooden bench beside the borrowing desk.

While waiting, Pandora quietly recounted legends she'd heard from her father. In that story, there was once a family of witches in Africa who carried this curse for generations, until all female descendants transformed into white lionesses within a pride.

Finally, Madam Pince returned, panting, her face even grimmer than when she left.

"The Headmaster confirmed it," she said reluctantly. "However, any misconduct, and I will immediately revoke your privileges."

"Of course, Madam," Snape nodded slightly.

Madam Pince huffed, waving her hand to indicate they could enter, but she did not return to the borrowing desk. Instead, she began to wander among the nearby bookshelves, pretending to dust or tidy books, but in reality, observing their every move.

The Restricted Section was even dimmer than the ordinary sections, as if even sunlight feared the knowledge within.

"Split up," Snape whispered. "We need books on blood curses or soul magic."

They quickly dispersed, leaving only the rustling sound of turning pages.

Snape pulled a heavy, black leather-bound book from a shelf, The Crucible of the Soul: A Treatise on the Symbiosis of Curses. The metal ornament on its spine suddenly transformed into a spider with grasping pincers when he touched it. Without changing his expression, he lightly tapped the spine with his wand, and the spider immediately reverted to motionless metal.

They gathered around a large oak table, each burying their head in the piles of books before them.

Snape quickly scanned the table of contents, finding the chapter on "Blood Curses." His fingertip traced over the yellowed pages, suddenly stopping at a passage:

"The peculiar nature of the blood curse lies in its deep binding to the victim's soul. Counter-curses are ineffective because the curse has become a part of the soul—"

"Found anything?" Pandora whispered, simultaneously pressing down hard on a copy of A Thousand Years of Curses that was trying to escape from her grasp.

Snape shook his head. "Only confirmed what we already knew. The curse has merged with her soul."

"Look at this," Pandora pushed a book over. "For such lowly creatures cursed, only death can quell the wrath of the blood curse."

"So there's no way?" Barty Jr.'s voice came from behind a pile of books, filled with disappointment.

"Let's keep looking," Snape said softly. They continued to pore over the books, occasionally exchanging whispered discoveries.

Just as Snape was pondering an obscure description of the soul, his peripheral vision caught sight of a somewhat familiar, almost bald head peeking out from between the bookshelves before quickly retracting. He snapped his head up, just in time to see Professor Slughorn attempting to sneak away.

"Professor Slughorn?" Snape whispered.

The figure froze, then slowly turned. Professor Slughorn's round face emerged from behind the bookshelf, today he was wearing a dark green velvet robe.

"Severus!" he said, feigning composure, his small eyes quickly darting over the books on the table. "And—uh—Mr. Crouch, Mr. Abbott. What a coincidence."

Snape calmly closed the book in his hand, showing the cover of From Egyptian Death Spells to Modern Necromancy to the professor. "Professor, we are researching how to lift a blood curse from a victim."

"These aren't exactly light bedtime reading, my dear boys," Professor Slughorn chuckled dryly. "You carry on, I'll be going now."

"Sir," Snape called out, standing up and walking over to him, his voice even lower. "I have a preliminary idea and a question for you. Suppose—just suppose—that something you are very familiar with, starting with 'H,' could absorb the curse from a soul?"

Professor Slughorn looked around, then pulled out an embroidered handkerchief to wipe his forehead.

"Merlin, Severus, what are you saying—"

His voice was shaky. "How would you protect the victim's life then? Unless you want to eliminate both the victim and the curse, which would indeed be a good method—" With that, he promptly departed.

Slughorn's reaction gave Snape some hope—theoretically, a Horcrux should be feasible, but the risk was extremely high. The key was how to control the process, allowing the Horcrux to absorb the soul while preserving Nagini's life.

Glancing at his watch, Snape decided to contact Lucius first and arrange a meeting.

"Please continue looking," he whispered. "I need to take care of something."

After leaving the library, Snape ascended the winding staircase of the West Tower, climbing towards the owlery at the very top.

The owlery was a circular stone room. The high windows had no glass, and a cold draft whistled through. Various breeds of owls perched on the beams, watching him with their round eyes.

Snape pulled a roll of parchment and a small bottle of ink from his robes, leaning against the rough stone wall and beginning to write:

"Dear Lucius,

I trust you are well. I still recall fondly our days at school and your care and assistance.

Even though we have not followed the same path, your kindness during my years at school ensured I seldom suffered unfair treatment from other Houses.

Perhaps, we should meet, for your father, Mr. Abraxas Malfoy, faces mortal danger. An ancient power at Hogwarts seeks to claim his life. I guarantee, on my life, this is no exaggeration.

This matter is too important and confidential to elaborate in writing. If you do not object, let us meet three days from now at two o'clock in the afternoon at the Three Broomsticks.

Eagerly awaiting your reply, Snape"

Snape put down his quill, scrutinizing the words he had written. If he wanted to entice Lucius to come, his family's safety should be the most effective means.

He rolled up the parchment and chose a pristine white snowy owl—the fastest breed among the many owls here. He tied the letter to the snowy owl's leg with a ribbon, gently stroking the bird's white feathers. "Wiltshire, Malfoy Manor. Go quickly."

The snowy owl let out a soft hoot, spread its wings, and flew from the owlery window into the sky.

Snape watched as the owl quickly became a small white speck in the blue sky, calculating the time in his mind:

It was not yet noon. The direct distance from the Scottish Highlands to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England, was less than four hundred miles. At the snowy owl's speed, the letter should arrive within ten hours.

If Lucius intended to come, Snape should receive a reply by tomorrow afternoon. If there was no reply, it might signify his refusal.

Back in the library, his friends were still immersed in their research.

Pandora looked up at him, her eyes asking a question. "Any breakthroughs?"

Snape shook his head, picking up a copy of The Feasibility of Curing Stubborn Curses, quietly flipping through it.

"Severus?" Barty Jr.'s voice pulled him back to reality. "Pandora asked if you want to have dinner in the Great Hall with us tonight."

Only then did Snape realize how late it was. He closed the book in front of him.

"I don't think we'll find much more," he said. "Let's go."

In the Great Hall, candlelight flickered, and the tables of the four houses were filled with students. They chose a relatively quiet corner.

"You don't need to worry," Snape said. "Even if she can only remain in a snake's body, at least I can ensure she won't become a tool for others."

His friends looked at him in confusion, clearly not understanding the meaning of his words.

"Severus," Pandora began hesitantly, "The next Dueling Club is starting soon. Do you still feel like instructing the new students?"

"Oh," Snape paused. "I almost forgot. Well—" His gaze shifted to Barty Jr. "How about you take charge of the next dueling instruction?"

Barty Jr.'s eyes widened. "Me? Why? I—"

"You are excellent," Snape interrupted him gently. "Your application of various spells is very skilled; you are fully capable of instructing them."

"More importantly, the first time I saw you, I knew you had a talent for teaching. You can try to teach students of different personalities and foundations according to their aptitude, uncover their strengths, and give them appropriate guidance, such as advising them on future career choices."

"That's right," Abbott chimed in, nodding. "Barty, you're much better than I am, a seventh-year student. Twelve O.W.L.s results, look! I'll definitely tell everyone about it then."

Barty Jr. was still hesitating. Snape patted his shoulder. "The students are very innocent. Just show your normal abilities. Your potential as a teacher is limitless—"

The next afternoon, Snape leaned against an old oak tree at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, watching Nagini glide comfortably through the grass.

Feeling bored, he raised his wand and softly cast, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery-white python emerged from his wand tip, gracefully slithering around Nagini.

Nagini immediately raised her head, her green eyes curiously fixated on the Patronus, similar yet different from herself.

"This can roughly be counted as a white snake," Snape said in Parseltongue. "Let me tell you an Eastern story—"

"—So you see," he said softly after finishing the story, "they all cultivate from snakes to human form, why are you doing the opposite?"

Nagini's head gently rested on his leg. Snape wasn't sure how much she understood, but he liked the tranquility of the moment—sunlight, shade, a silver Patronus, and a green snake.

The sun gradually set, and the shadows of the Forbidden Forest grew longer. He occasionally looked up at the sky—no sign of an owl. It seemed Lucius had no intention of accepting his invitation.