Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Peter

Chapter 211 Snape's Last Memory
Peter, Harry, and Dumbledore sat quietly in the chair Dumbledore had conjured up, and the three of them looked at Snape who was crooked behind the desk, waiting for him to confess.

If the handle of Snape's wand hadn't been protruding from the pocket of Snape's pajamas, the scene would have been a bit like an inhuman interrogation, and the gloomy basement office looked like a prison cell.

Peter held Dobby in his arms and stroked his head soothingly. The house-elf's limbs were as cold as ice and his whole body was shaking. would hurt him again.

Peter brought cheese, slices of bread and hot pumpkin juice from the kitchen for Dobby to eat, and Dobby devoured it. It seemed that the poor little guy hadn't had a decent meal for a long time.

After that short opening remark, Snape remained silent. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was blue, and he looked very ferocious. His chest, which had been torn apart by the dragon, heaved and fell, and the veins in his neck followed him. The panting rises and then sinks.

Harry could hardly stand it anymore, and he looked at Dumbledore and Peter again with pleading eyes.

Dumbledore finally spoke, "Severus, I still remember that at the dinner party on the first day of school, you told us about your experience, you said that your mother saved you with the wolfsbane potion..."

"That was a pure lie," said Snape flatly. "My mother died before anything happened to me."

Peter, Dumbledore, and Harry all looked at Snape sympathetically, especially Harry, who couldn't imagine what it must be like for a teenager his own age to lie dying in a hospital without his parents by his side.Only Dobby choked with fright at the sudden sound of Snape's voice.

"That is to say, no one actually came to St. Mungo's to save you..." Dumbledore's voice showed sadness.

Snape nodded, shifting his weight in the chair, trying to find a less painful position.

"I'm all alone," he whispered, "I can still remember... I can still remember lying on the hospital bed, bleeding all over my body... It's like it happened yesterday... When I Awakening from death, it took me a long time to figure it out, so much time has passed since then..."

"Can I ask you a rude question? How did you come back from the dead?" asked Dumbledore. "Voldemort invented a lot of 'amazing' Dark Arts, but this one, goes a little too far... ..."

Snape closed his eyes, "It's a painful and humiliating memory, and I don't want to talk about it because it would make me appear weak."

"You're not weak," Peter said, moving Dobby aside and leaning forward. "Remember that night talk? Using willpower to overcome physical pain is itself a lie. If a person shows pain and fear is weakness, then everyone in this world is probably a coward.”

Snape didn't listen, he shook his head impatiently, "Anyway, the Dark Lord used a dark magic, he transformed my corpse - I don't know what I should call it - into your What I see now, I will be at Hogwarts after that..."

"Severus," Dumbledore said gently, "I'm afraid your narration is a bit too general. According to this progress, we may have heard the whole story before Dobby finished his pumpkin juice."

"Need I add any more adjectives, Dumbledore?" Snape's tone was thick with sarcasm, "The Dark Lord's magic is 'subtle' - 'impressive' - or, 'beyond expectations. '—"

Dumbledore laughed, "By the way, the average score of the Potions OWL exam this year should not be very good. I suggest that you accept all students with scores above 'exceeding expectations' to join the advanced class, otherwise, Aurors will not be enough. of……"

"Why—" Snape shifted his chair again, gasping for breath in pain, "I can't stand those hopelessly stupid students anymore."

"Then there are probably only two students left in your senior class, Harry and Hermione.

"Maybe I won't be Potions teacher here next year!"

"Perhaps you've been burned to ashes by Mr. Crouch next school year? Yes, we're sitting here to prevent that from happening, and I need your story, the full story, not half-baked -- so-called Trials are essentially storytelling. Your story must stand up to scrutiny. Otherwise, why would the jurors believe that you are a smart ghoul who was once controlled by Voldemort but is now harmless to people, not a willing Death Eater? ?”

"Maybe I'll be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher next school year—"

"That's impossible." Dumbledore put his mouth under his beard and smiled slyly.

Harry burst out laughing, and when Snape's bloodshot black eyes turned to him, he hastily choked back his laughter and pretended to be serious.

Dumbledore waved his hand, "Let's get down to business - Minerva is not here, no one reminded me not to digress - well, let's get down to business this time... Severus, we need to know your story, and I also I want to know the nature of Voldemort's black magic, and what kind of life form you are sitting in front of us..."

"Don't push me," Snape said briefly, "that memory was very bad...and very confusing..."

Dumbledore fell silent, his blue eyes looked at Snape's painful black eyes, expecting the other party's response.

Finally, Snape struggled to reach the wand in his pocket with his left hand, and pinched it with the remaining two fingers. Poor Dobby curled up in Peter's arms, and Peter hurriedly patted Dobby. Than the back.

Of course Snape didn't do anything to Dobby, he raised his hand, pointed the tip of his staff at his temple, and pulled out a silver-blue substance that was neither gas nor liquid.

"Peter, I remember... you have a way to let people around you see the memory," Snape gasped, "you'd better see it for yourself, quick, before I change my mind..."

Peter opened the magic space, tapped Snape's memory with the tip of his wand, and the silver-blue substance diffused in the magic space like thick steam, and a picture appeared in front of people...

The scene is a small hospital ward, with a dim light cast by a dying oil lamp, and a small pile of empty blood tonic bottles on the bedside table.

Young Lucius Malfoy (his pale blond hair was still thick at the time) held an empty crystal bottle in his hand and looked down at Snape, who was covered in gauze on the hospital bed.

Snape's eyes were open in a daze, obviously just waking up from a coma, his gauze-wrapped mouth moved, and he uttered a few hoarse, broken syllables... It sounded like he was calling for Lu Xiu Si's name, trying to ask each other for help.

In the next second, blood gushed out of Snape's mouth and nose, staining the white sheets red, and his cry for help was choked deep in his throat.

Lucius shook his head meaningfully and conjured up a stretcher.

　Special thanks to a reader who wrote a long book review. He pointed out that I assigned Snape's identity "double agent" in the original book to the protagonist Peter, so it reads very poisonous. In fact, I did not deprive Snape of the original book. The identity of a spy did not deprive him of his realistic acting skills and Occlumency skills.

　　There is also a poisonous point about Snape's mother. In this chapter, the big reader points out that it is unreasonable for Snape's mother to save Snape. This is Snape's lie, and it must be unreasonable.

　　Master, the villain has been wronged!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)