Hogwarts i am snape

Angry whispers and the tightening of bowstrings filled the air. A centaur behind Firenze angrily raised his bow again, aiming at Snape.

Nagini coiled at Snape's feet, raising her head and hissing low.

"It's alright, Nagini," he whispered soothingly in Parseltongue. Nagini's body relaxed slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on the half-human, half-horse creatures.

"I suggest you put down your bows," Snape said calmly, his voice laced with undeniable threat. "Unless you wish to experience—"

With a flick of his wrist, a blinding green light shot from his wand tip, striking an oak tree ten feet away. The bark instantly carbonized, forming a round scorch mark and emitting a pungent smoke.

All the centaurs, except Firenze, took two steps back.

"Magorian," Firenze turned to his reddish-brown companion behind him and whispered, "No good will come of this conflict tonight."

Magorian's nostrils flared, expelling two puffs of white air. His mane bristled like fire, and the bowstring in his hand vibrated ominously.

"This is our forest!" he roared.

"Then you'll have to put up with it," Snape retorted unceremoniously. "This is your forest, and it is also our forest."

Magorian suddenly reared onto his hind legs, his bow arcing dangerously in the air, the arrow tip aimed directly at Nagini.

Snape's wand immediately sent out a red light, striking the arrow in the centaur's hand.

The wooden shaft snapped, and Magorian knelt back three paces, his hooves leaving deep imprints in the soft soil.

Amidst the flying dirt, Firenze swiftly stepped between the two parties.

"Stop!" His roar shook a few leaves from the trees. "We must not defy the will of the heavens!" He turned to his restless companions. "Do we not see the omens shown by the movements of the planets?"

"Those were omens from a year ago," Magorian stomped his hooves heavily. "We haven't been able to see them for a long time. The stars are silent now! We should set fate back on its proper course!"

"Silence!" Firenze suddenly raised his voice, casting a wary glance at Snape, then turned to his companions. "We are concerned with the prophecies of the stars, not with fulfilling them. Centaurs are not the instruments of fate."

He turned to Snape, his voice regaining its calm. "Enough, wizard. Out of respect for fate, we will not pursue tonight's events, but you must leave the Forbidden Forest immediately."

Snape did not move. "What about compensation? Didn't you say you couldn't just let us leave? I thought you couldn't just leave either."

The centaurs immediately let out a discontented whinny, and a few younger centaurs stirred, raising their bows. But Firenze turned and tried his best to appease them, and the commotion gradually subsided.

"Wizard," Firenze's voice lowered, his hooves sinking deep into the soil as if restraining something. "We do not wish to fight you, but please do not force us."

"If you insist on compensation," his eyes looked to the stars, then back to Snape's face, "what I can tell you is—if you truly care about that snake, your time is running out."

Snape narrowed his eyes. These centaurs seemed to genuinely be able to foresee Nagini's fate.

"I need you to tell me more about the stars you've seen," he lowered his wand and stepped forward. "And how to resolve the curse on this snake."

"The stars do not give precise answers, wizard," Firenze shook his head, his silver mane shimmering. "Nothing is infallible. Change has begun, and the winter snows are melting."

Snape was silent for a moment, then asked, "Do you centaurs have a way to resolve this curse?"

"Could you please return our kin first?" Firenze's forehooves nervously stamped the ground, his gaze fixed on the unconscious Bane not far away.

Snape hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

At Firenze's signal, two young centaurs immediately rushed forward and dragged their comrade back.

They awoke Bane with ancient incantations. He blinked dazedly, seemingly having forgotten what had happened.

"I'm sorry, there is no antidote," Firenze said, a strange pity in his voice. "Once the curse's power begins to penetrate the soul, it is like a river inevitably flowing into the sea, unstoppable." He gave Snape a meaningful look. "The blood curse will eventually concentrate in the soul; this is an irreversible process."

"Are you saying the blood curse will eventually concentrate in the soul?" Snape pressed.

Firenze hesitated for a moment, then nodded stiffly. "Wizard, that's all I can tell you. Don't be too greedy."

"Regardless, this information might be useful," Snape said. "Let's leave it at that for tonight."

Whether it was due to Parseltongue or the Unforgivable Curses, the centaurs' behavior tonight had been uncommonly restrained and courteous. Snape had no intention of lingering with them; Nagini's condition was worse than he'd imagined, and he had more important matters to attend to.

As the centaurs turned to leave, Bane had already regained consciousness. He seemed to want to say something, but his companion whispered a few words in his ear, and he closed his mouth, looking at Snape with fear, then limping away with his comrades.

The sound of hooves gradually faded into the depths of the dense forest, and the clearing returned to peace.

Snape looked down at Nagini and saw Dobby carefully approaching her.

The house-elf's eyes were full of worry. He extended a long, slender finger and gently touched Nagini's scales. She seemed to recognize Dobby again and did not attack. Although her eyes held little light now, but a beast-like blankness.

"Mr. Snape," Dobby began hesitantly, "Can Dobby continue to look after Miss Snake? She looks much better."

"No, Dobby," Snape shook his head. "It's too dangerous."

"Dobby is willing to face danger for Master," the house-elf said firmly. "Dobby knows Master cares a lot about Miss Snake."

"This is just a job," Snape bent down and patted the house-elf's shoulder. "Promise me, Dobby, don't risk your life to do your job. Your life is more precious."

"I'll arrange other tasks for you later. You're not unemployed."

After shrinking Nagini and tucking her into his sleeve, Snape took Dobby's hand. "Take me to the Headmaster's office."

When they appeared in the familiar office, Dumbledore was arguing with Phineas Nigellus in his portrait.

The Headmaster was startled by the sudden appearance of the two. "Severus?" His blue eyes widened. "Why are you not even knocking on the door now, and so late—" His gaze fell on Nagini, who was slithering out of Snape's sleeve. "What happened? I thought she would be in the Forbidden Forest."

"Professor," Snape said, placing Nagini on Dumbledore's desk. "The blood curse is devouring what little humanity she has left. Not long ago, she tried to attack Dobby."

Dumbledore walked to his desk, watching Nagini curl up on the desktop.

"Firenze the centaur said something—a prophecy," Snape said. "He said Nagini is perpetually falling into a dark path."

"The centaurs' astrology indeed has its unique insights," Dumbledore mused, stroking his silver-white beard. "However, Severus, I'd also like to know your opinion on this matter."

"Her deterioration is faster than I expected," Snape said. "Perhaps soon she won't be able to recognize anyone."

"Including you?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"Not yet," Snape replied. "But I don't want her to be left with only a body driven by a curse."

Dumbledore looked worriedly at Nagini, who was flicking her tongue at Fawkes's golden perch, her behavior increasingly resembling that of a true snake.

"Worse than I thought, Severus, and I can't think of a solution either," the Headmaster said softly. "If she completely loses her will, she won't be suitable to stay here anymore. She's too dangerous for anyone except a Parselmouth."

"Severus," Dumbledore walked over to Snape. "You know sometimes the hardest choices—perhaps you should let her return to where she came from. It would be more suitable for her survival there."

"At least for now, I won't consider that option," Snape said. "Perhaps we can still find other ways. Albania is not a good place, nor is it where she came from, but merely the beginning of her suffering."

"Professor," he looked up into Dumbledore's eyes. "When you see her, do you still remember the woman who unyieldingly chose justice and came to Hogwarts to ask for your help?"

The office fell silent, save for the crackling of wood in the fireplace. The portraits of past headmasters watched the scene in silence.

After a moment, Dumbledore sighed. "I am not a god, Severus, and I cannot solve all problems."

"I understand, Professor," Snape said. "Firenze said the curse would eventually concentrate in her soul. I just wanted to discuss with you whether there's a way to purify the soul separately."

"Soul and body are inseparable," Dumbledore said. "To my knowledge, no magic can achieve that."

The separation of soul and body—an idea suddenly formed in Snape's mind. "Suppose," he said slowly, "there is something, a kind of vessel for the soul, that could absorb the power within Nagini's soul, devouring her most secret fears, her deepest hidden secrets—would it be possible to draw the curse from her soul at the same time?"

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, confused. "Is there such a thing? There are no true souls in magical objects, I think you are well aware of that common knowledge." He suddenly paused, looking sharply at Snape. "If you are referring to something containing a soul, then it can only be—"

"Professor, this is just a hypothesis," Snape said quickly. "Purely an academic discussion."

Dumbledore hummed, turning to the house-elf standing in the corner. "Dobby, would you please leave us for a moment?"

Dobby looked at Dumbledore with gratitude and nodded.

After the house-elf disappeared with a pop, the Headmaster's expression became more serious than ever:

"Severus, we have all seen Professor Slughorn's memories. Are you implying something by saying such things?"

"I'm not thinking of anything dangerous or evil, Professor," Snape explained calmly. "Actually, this matter is somewhat related to Dobby."

"Dobby once inadvertently told me," Snape chose to use Dobby's name to reveal some information, "that in the storage room beneath his former master's drawing-room, he saw a unique object. Dobby called it 'a talking, terrible thing.'"

"Dobby was so scared at the time that he ran away, and afterward, he even ironed his hands to punish himself for touching his master's things without permission."

"The Malfoys have such a thing?" Dumbledore seemed intrigued, contemplating the value of this information.

"Yes," Snape asked casually, "Considering the Malfoys' close relationship with Tom, what do you think it could be?"

Dumbledore pondered for a long time. "It might just be an ordinary object, containing a memory, similar to a portrait—"

"I don't think Dobby would fail to recognize a portrait," Snape interrupted him. "Just hypothetically, if it were some kind of entity, and it could absorb souls, might it be useful?"

"No one has ever done that," Dumbledore's blue eyes peered at him through his half-moon spectacles. "And how do you propose to retrieve that object from the heavily protected Malfoy Manor?"

"Dobby?" Snape said.

"Dobby cannot help you do that," Dumbledore shook his head. "Even if his magical contract with the Malfoy family has been broken, if you ask him to steal from his former masters' home, he might punish himself to death halfway there."

"Hmm—you have a point," Snape said, frowning. "That won't work." Dumbledore was right; even making Dobby say a few bad words about his former masters would make him hit himself with a teapot. Asking him to steal would be tantamount to indirectly killing the house-elf.

"I will help you think of a way," Dumbledore said, his expression softening slightly. "I'll ask some old friends if there are any other possibilities."

"Alright, Professor," Snape said. "Could you give me a note to borrow books from the Restricted Section? I'd like to see if there are any related records."

Dumbledore conjured a quill and wrote something on a piece of parchment, signing his name.

"Take it, and do your best, Severus," he handed the signed note to Snape. "Don't hold out too much hope. The books only contain past knowledge. Sometimes, we must accept certain things."

Snape took the parchment. Before he could express his gratitude, a steaming cup of tea was placed in his hand.

"Rest for tonight," Dumbledore said gently. "I'll let you know if there's any news later."

"Thank you, Professor," Snape said, taking a small sip of tea.

Perhaps he would have to re-establish contact with the distinguished "Fallen Frontrunner" Lucius Malfoy.

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