Hogwarts: Atypical Slytherin

"Keep her—their—safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In return?" The young man in black looked at the old man with a crooked nose in front of him and said, "Anything."

what is this?

Crowney felt like she was in a sticky water, maybe not water, but a sticky liquid like water, clinging to everything she could reach. Some images of mist-like colloid appeared vaguely.

"What about my soul? Dumbledore? Where's mine?" the man asked sharply in pain.

These pictures were too fragmentary, even more blurry than the "Problems of Class Analysis" and "Strategic Issues of Revolutionary War" she had seen before, and only a little bit of sound could be heard.

"I thought you could save me." Another, older voice muttered to himself, "I let you win that duel because I thought you could save me, you betrayed me bastard, you repay me Just leave me to rot alone.”

"Our lives were destroyed a long time ago."

Clooney felt that the owner of the voice sounded particularly nervous. He sounded crazy, but seemed to be about to shed tears the next second.

"Who are you?" The trembling voice looked over through the mist, "Who are you!?"

"Can you talk to me?" Clooney moved his fingers in the mucus, "Hello?"

The old man looked extremely alert, even though he had almost all his teeth lost. He was even more scrawny than Blake when they first met. Dirty clothes hung loosely on his body like a rag.

"Are you okay?" Crowney asked worriedly. "You sound like you're in pain."

The old man asked her almost scolding: "How did you do it? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." Claudine said patiently, "What's wrong with you?"

Dreams are usually people's reflection of reality. When she realizes that she is in a dream, she may be able to control him. She didn't know why she dreamed of an old man.

He looked like a weathered sculpture, leaning against the dirty wall and grinning at Crowney with a slightly terrifying smile.

"As you can see, miss, I'm waiting to die." His skull-like eyes stared at her like a hawk, "Slytherin? Another Slytherin? A vicious snake?"

"You know Slytherin?" Clooney found that he could push away the sticky things. "Maybe I am a venomous snake, but I don't always want to bite people."

"Perhaps you would like to tell me about your confusion?" She squatted in front of his bed with a smile. "Can I help you in any way?"

"Nothing, kid." The old man narrowed his eyes and looked him up and down. "Who asked you to come? Dumbledore? What did he want to say?"

"I'm not familiar with him, sir," Clowney replied. "He's just our principal."

"What does any of this have to do with him?"

"Are you a bitch?" the old man suddenly asked, "A bitch Slytherin?"

"Here it comes," Clowney thought, "I can finally understand what's bothering me now."

"Yes." She nodded, "That's really unheard of, right?"

The old man seemed to have entered a mysterious and mysterious situation. He lay on the creaking old bed, and after a long, long time, it seemed that Clooney was about to fall asleep in her dream again. After a while, he opened his gray-blue eyes again.

"It's really, really incredible," he said.

The old man's gray-blue eyes seemed to shine a little. He reluctantly sat up and waved his withered arm vigorously: "Your name, kid."

"It's not a good idea to say your own name in a dream." Clowney thought, "Somewhere I feel like it's not a good idea to introduce myself like this."

So she said, "Sorry, sir, it's just a dream. So maybe it's not convenient for me to tell you my name. You can call me Crowley. I just want to know, what's bothering you? What's keeping you away?" Here? What trouble do you have with a bastard Slytherin?"

"I don't know that I'm still bothered by these things, but you are here."

The old man was so thin that there was only a piece of skin left, but even so, he could still curl his lips on that hollow face: "Slytherin."

"Okay, okay, kid," he said. "There's nothing to say."

He paused: "I locked myself in here."

"Maybe it's love, kid. I'm in my own prison."

"Does love make it difficult to be yourself?" Crowney asked, "Sorry, what should I call you?"

"Green."

"But I thought - love will make people move forward. Because I love everything friendly in the world, I hope everything can get better. Is this idealism? I just hope that everything I love can coexist peacefully - at least Within the scope that I can reach, everyone can know what they want and what they want to do, and they will not intrude or harm other equal people. Is this also self-limitation? Is this how I think about myself?"

"No, no, maybe not, kid." He laughed wildly, "Of course idealism is not wrong, it's just that two souls attracted to each other finally entered the mystery, and under the influence of the widest ideas, they chose the most A direction that is in line with one’s own interests.”

"However, as the world continues to develop and theories continue to innovate, prejudice will isolate thoughts and cognitions. I didn't realize it at the time. My ideals were out of touch with reality. I thought I could be saved - and loved - by someone. ." He gritted out the last word through his teeth.

"But I realize it's too late. I'm just a lonely, penitent old sinner now, going mad in prison, waiting to die, to be reunited with my man - but we were long ago -"

Clooney felt a little sad. The old man he had never met did not live a happy life at all. He was not only old but also skinny and looking forward to hopeless love. She couldn't imagine that deep down in her heart, she was so afraid of love and the separation of her lover, that she was even willing to construct such a person in her heart and brain who was willing to create a prison.

"I don't know if my idea is right." She whispered, "I just thought in my shallow knowledge that this might make everyone better."

"You will succeed." He replied nonchalantly, "I see a longer future."

"I think now, maybe when I was still young and everything had not come to this, I would be very willing to talk to you about this."

"This is not a dream, boy, you may be a prophet - just like me."

"However, that is your own path. Your ideas may become reality, or they may go astray, but the time to success is very long."

"We won't know whether he was justified until we see the day of the results."

"I once saw the Muggles' future, which was full of disbelief and war oppression." Green said, "I once did something. I classified people into categories. The unknown is everyone's fear, but I The attitude of individuals in another different group toward the unknown spreads to the entire group. I think that dominance and power can eliminate this kind of unknown most quickly and effectively."

"But in the end, I failed."

"I now see a longer future, in which there are not only Muggles, but also wizards. Because I met you. This is indeed very interesting, and it is also a path I have never imagined - but I don't want to, Muggles always Such – ignorance – and rejection!”

"I have no future."

He was back to the beginning, and the breath of youth slipped away from his slab-like body.

"What can I do?" Clowney asked. "What can I do for you?"

"NONE." He said, "Nothing."

He closed his eyes again.