Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Peter

Chapter 216 Death Is Just an Episode
"Lucius knew what I was, he saw me die," Snape said.

"At the beginning of term, that fussy Dolores Umbridge wanted me to be expelled, and Draco and - ah - certain students thought that my being Headmaster would bring shame on Slytherin House , so Draco sued his father about me and wanted Lucius to pressure the school board to fire me, but what Draco didn't expect was that Lucius was terrified."

"Lucius knew that my appearance represented the recovery of the Dark Lord. He took the initiative to come to me, begged me for mercy, begged me to forgive, begged me to forgive Draco's offense, begged me not to kill him, I let the Malfoy family Made an unbreakable oath, they must assist me, or—" He paused, "Death."

"No wonder Draco is so afraid of you," Peter commented.

"Draco knows I'm a living dead, of course he's afraid of me," Snape leaned his head back, looking a little arrogant, "Maybe I should add a few more clauses to the Malfoy oath..."

Peter suddenly thought of something, "Severus, if you have to go to court, what would Lucius say? He has already been controlled by the Ministry of Magic for participating in the Death Eaters. Push it to you... maybe, he will never admit that you are dead, and assisting in the creation of a corpse is a felony, isn't it?"

"I don't know," but Snape's tone rose a bit, "I thought he was my friend, but he betrayed me and turned me into a rotten monster..."

"His son, Draco, has been in my hands for a year, but I have done no harm to his son, and I have done nothing but the bare minimum necessary to fulfill the Dark Lord's quest—just leave him in Wesson Say what he wants to say in front of Gamo, it's all up to his conscience!"

"Why can't Professor Snape justify himself?" Harry asked puzzled, "Does Mr. Malfoy mean what he says?"

"The Wizengamot won't listen to a living dead—"

"Sir, you can have them use Veritaserum on you..."

"—especially since the living dead is an Occlumencyist," said Snape hoarsely, "I've done things to make me worthy only of death, and death is a certainty for me, if Wizenga Let me go, and I'll have more time to find myself a more decent tomb than Infernal Lake or Azkaban, that's all."

Dumbledore sat up straight in his chair, and put his hand around Snape's crippled left hand on the table.

"I remember we talked about it once last year, Severus, there's never just a painful side to life—"

"Do you think I want to die because I can't bear the pain? I'm not a coward."

"You hinted at us like that..."

"Of course I'd tell you that!" he exclaimed. "When I could feel some real emotion, I didn't want to...don't want to serve the Dark Lord's resurrection anymore! Why would I do so much for him? What happened? When he returns to the world, do I want to watch those innocent people suffer from his torture like me?"

There was silence in the room, even Dobby stopped his vague sobbing, and through the ceiling, people in the Potions teacher's office could faintly hear the laughter in the auditorium.

"Severus, you..." Dumbledore said slowly, "are you actually intentionally - intentionally torturing yourself so that Voldemort's plan cannot succeed?"

"It's not that I'm torturing myself, it's the Dark Lord who's torturing me. I can't directly disobey his orders. Yes, I'm a black magic creature created to obey him. If I can use Avatar on myself Killing Curse, or tearing open my own wounds and bleeding to death quickly, I don't want to suffer these inhuman tortures..."

Peter gasped. "Are you...are you trying to kill yourself indirectly?"

"Yes, but thanks to your idle sympathy, I failed. I had a penetrating wound with the cruel curse the Dark Lord had prepared for Peddie Road, and it was the wound most likely to kill me. .”

"In the beginning, I found an excuse to refuse treatment, pretending that I was not seriously injured, but in the end, Dumbledore found out about my situation, and he forced me to accept the treatment of phoenix tears, which unnecessarily prolonged my life. pain."

"Later, when I was tortured, I began to do everything possible to take advantage of the loopholes in the magic rules. I deliberately said some illogical words to try to arouse your vigilance. I directly mentioned that I was dead several times, but no one took it seriously."

"Peddie Road, the night before yesterday, I endured indescribable pain and begged you to kill me, but you refused—you could have returned me to the embrace of death in peace, and saved those innocent souls at the same time!"

Another moment of silence.

Snape trembled slightly in his chair, his black eyes flicking resentfully at the others in the room, seemingly unaware of what he had said.

"Why don't you talk anymore?" He sneered, and took his hand out of Dumbledore's. "I regret it, don't you? You stupid, smart-ass..."

"No, we didn't stay silent because of regret." Dumbledore's eye circles were a little red.

"I think Lily is right," said Peter softly, "you are nobler than us."

"Noble?" he cried. "It's the minimum of morality! I do it for... for—"

He coughed and slid a few inches down the chair, and Dumbledore, Peter, and Harry stood up hastily and reached for him, but he pushed them away.

He gasped for a long time before picking up the bottle of potion from the table, pouring the remaining potion down his throat, and when his hands were shaking on the table, he unconsciously pushed away the potion that Peter had copied paper.

It took a long time for his breathing to calm down, and even Dobby looked at him with sympathy.

"You just said... what are you doing for?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.

Snape didn't answer right away, panting heavily, his eyes flicked across Dumbledore, Harry and Peter, across the papers and books on the table, and finally landed on an envelope with a corner exposed under the parchment.

"Everything," he said finally.

Dumbledore wiped his eyes with a clean white handkerchief, and for some reason Dobby began to sob again.

After a long time, Peter picked up the potion paper on the table and turned over a few pages, "You haven't succeeded in developing a cure for werewolf disease, have you? The victims of Hogsmeade village have left now, and we can't do anything for them." Do anything, but if you live, you can save others."

"You don't need to persuade me, Peter." He took out the bottle of potion that he once claimed to be "Wolf's Bastard Potion" when he was in school, and there was only a little bit of potion left in it, "The potion of immortality that I depend on for life is almost used up. It's all over."

Dumbledore smiled, and took out a red stone from his robe as if by magic, and put it on the table with a click.

"I took this from Voldemort, Severus, I can't just lend it to you, but Nicole Flamay is an old friend of mine," he blinked mischievously, "live on Well, you are only 17 years old, your life has just begun... You see, I have lived for more than 100 years, but I still feel refreshed every morning!"

Snape retorted, "But I've—"

Dumbledore cut him off with a raised hand, a mysterious smile on his face.

"Ha! The absurd things I did when I was your age, you can't think of it! What's the little episode of dying once? When I have time later, I will tell about my youth. I'll let you hear it...well, take the time to rest! Dudu~"

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the room became even darker. Compared with the cave where Voldemort hid the Infernal Corpse, there is only a lake of stagnant water here.

(End of this chapter)