Hogwarts i am snape

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the last sliver of twilight melted into the gaps between the tree canopies.

Snape halted, surveying his surroundings.

Once he was sure no one—neither person nor magical creature—was lurking nearby, he brandished his wand, casting a powerful warning charm.

The air around him shimmered faintly.

Only then did he pull a square object, tightly wrapped in several layers of parchment, from his pocket.

With a gentle tap of his wand and a soft click, the layers of protective charms unraveled, revealing a black-bound diary within. It appeared utterly unremarkable, yet it seemed to devour what little light remained.

Then, under Snape's command, nearby dead branches and fallen leaves twisted and reshaped, as if guided by an unseen hand, forming a crude wooden table and chair before him.

"Lumos."

The tip of his wand glowed with a cold, white light. Snape sat down, opened the diary, and gazed at the blank pages illuminated by the charm.

Dipping his quill into the ink he carried, the nib hovered over the page for a moment before finally descending.

"Are you still there, Riddle?" The ink spread swiftly across the paper.

The reply appeared almost instantly. The elegant cursive not only formed on the page but seemed to echo in Snape's mind as a voice:

"Of course, Snape. I've been pondering how to assist your... special friend."

"So, have you made any progress?" Snape scribbled quickly. Nagini stirred softly within his robes, her cool scales offering a subtle sensation.

"If your friend can still occasionally revert to human form," the ink on the page shifted and reformed, "things would be much simpler." The writing paused here before continuing, "However, since she is 'permanently' trapped in serpent form, it's not so easy."

"So, you still have a way?" Snape wrote calmly.

This time, the reply was slower to appear, but the script seemed more deliberate: "I can help you absorb the curse within her soul, but this will take a very long time."

"You're not just a simple memory, are you?" Snape narrowed his eyes, probing directly. "A portrait couldn't do this."

"You should be thankful I'm not," the diary's script suddenly sharpened. "Otherwise, how would you save your precious friend?"

"Then what are you?" Snape wrote slowly, keen to discover how much information Tom was willing to reveal.

"I am an entity capable of helping you," Tom replied. "That's enough, isn't it, Severus?"

Silence stretched between them. In the distance, an owl hooted, and the shadows of the Forbidden Forest deepened into the dusk.

Snape felt Nagini squirm restlessly against his chest, as if sensing his emotional turmoil.

Finally, he wrote: "Alright, what do we need to do next?"

"Have your serpent friend write in my diary."

"Oh," Snape wrote, almost picturing the other's smug, condescending expression. "Don't you think that's asking too much? How can a snake do that?"

"I don't mean for her to write words," Tom's reply carried a distinct lack of patience. "Find a way, just have her mark it somehow, even a scribble. Make her trust me."

"Trust you?" Snape continued to ask. He felt a flicker of danger: Riddle possessed an extraordinary ability to charm, especially women. But at present, the diary was merely an object; it shouldn't exert charm like the former Hogwarts succubus. At least, he hoped not.

The diary seemed to grow even more impatient with his hesitation: "Figure it out yourself, talk to her, or just give up."

Snape stared at the words for a long time before slowly putting quill to parchment: "Wait."

Having written that, he set the quill aside and gently touched Nagini's body, calling out, "Nagini, come out."

The slender, emerald-green snake poked her head from his collar, sliding down his arm onto the wooden table, her head raised, gazing at him.

Her eyes, in the glow of the light, were a nearly transparent green.

"Next, Nagini, you need to make a mark on this notebook," Snape whispered softly in Parseltongue. "Like this." He picked up the quill and drew a light line on the diary's edge. "Just scrawl anything, but you need to trust that it won't harm you—at least not when you're putting ink on it."

Nagini tilted her head, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, her forked tongue darting rapidly, catching information in the air. Snape patiently repeated himself a few times, using the simplest words to ensure she understood as much as possible.

The green snake straightened, rubbed against his chin, her damp tongue licking his cheek, leaving a cool sensation—this was her way of showing understanding.

Snape observed Nagini's mouth structure, realizing she couldn't grip a quill, and his gaze fell on her tail, a sudden idea striking him.

"Got it," he murmured, pulling a shimmering, pearlescent unicorn hair from his inner pocket.

Unicorn tail hair was exceptionally tough, and he cleverly used it to tie the quill to the tip of Nagini's tail. Nagini watched his actions quietly, without the slightest resistance.

Once secured, she curiously twisted her body, the quill tip drawing meaningless lines in the air.

"Just like that, good," Snape guided her tail to hover over the open diary. "Now, try to move your tail."

At first, Nagini's movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, the ink leaving broken, intermittent marks on the page. Snape patiently held her tail, helping her control the pressure, gently correcting her as he spoke.

As she moved, the ink spread on the paper, only to be instantly absorbed upon contact, vanishing without a trace, as if swallowed by some invisible force.

The crescent moon quietly rose, its silvery light replacing the last hint of crimson in the sky.

Nagini seemed unchanged, and Snape scanned the diary skeptically. But he didn't stop, continuing to guide Nagini to scrawl on the pages, replenishing her ink from time to time.

The concept of time blurred. Perhaps an hour passed, or longer; Nagini's movements gradually slowed, and the light in her eyes dimmed.

Noticing her fatigue, Snape gently stroked her head, untying the quill from her tail.

"That's enough. Rest," he whispered. Nagini obediently slid back into his inner pocket, curling into a tight ball, falling silent almost immediately.

Snape picked up the quill again, preparing to ask Riddle about the progress.

Just then, the pages began to tremble violently. Thick, black liquid seeped from the pristine white pages, like venomous blood from a wound, flowing along the diary's edges onto the wooden table.

A horrifying sizzling sound accompanied acrid smoke.

Snape recoiled abruptly, watching the black liquid corrode the surface of the wooden table, leaving honeycomb-like holes.

When the liquid reached the ground, the surrounding grass instantly withered and turned black, emitting a putrid stench.

Only when the last drop of black liquid had drained did Snape cautiously approach the wooden table.

The diary remained unscathed, its pages still pristine.

"What was that, Riddle?" He took out a new quill and carefully wrote.

"A blood curse," Tom replied curtly, his handwriting more illegible than usual, ink splattered, as if the process had affected him too.

"So it worked?" Snape's eyes lit up, eagerly scribbling, "How many more times until she can regain human form?"

"What did you say, 'times'?" The text in the diary suddenly became frantic. "Tell me, Snape, how long has it been since your friend became a snake? I never imagined the curse on her was so potent!"

"Some time," Snape wrote, hesitating.

"How long, exactly?" Tom's handwriting almost tore through the page.

"Well, about fifty-odd years."

"What—" A lone question mark appeared next on the page, followed by a long silence, as if the person on the other end of the diary had held their breath, needing time to process the information.

When the reply finally appeared, the handwriting was unusually neat, with a chilling undertone:

"I've vastly underestimated this. At this rate, my abilities are insufficient to guarantee the removal of the curse on her."

"Then what can be done?"

"You need to have more honest exchanges with me," Tom wrote. "Less concealment, more sincerity."

Snape's fingers tightened around the quill, pausing for a long time before writing. He understood what Tom wanted.

"You're interested in my soul too?" he wrote clearly.

"I need energy," the diary made no secret of its purpose. "What's your answer?"

"Let me consider it," Snape wrote, then swiftly closed the diary, carefully wrapping it in three layers of parchment, adding seals, before putting it away again.

Just as he raised his wand, preparing to vanish the remnants of the wooden table and chair, a faint rustle of footsteps made him stiffen.

He whirled around instantly, reflexively pointing his wand at the source of the sound, but quickly lowered it upon seeing who it was:

"Ah—what a lovely evening! Professor, when did you arrive?"

"I've been here for a while," Dumbledore said calmly, a kindly twinkle in his blue eyes that couldn't quite mask their sharpness.

"You saw everything?" Snape asked.

"Indeed, the new werewolf encampment is coming along nicely," Dumbledore strolled closer, his gaze falling on the pockmarked wooden table. "It seems that diary truly is a Horcrux."

"Yes, as I said before." Snape's shoulders relaxed slightly, as he took the sleeping Nagini from his inner pocket. The little snake was exhausted, her body curled into a small loop in his palm, her scales having lost their usual sheen. "Take a look, did the process just now have the effect we hoped for?"

Dumbledore extended a long finger, gently stroking above Nagini. His expression grew serious, and he nodded slowly.

"It had some effect," the Headmaster said softly. "But you still need to be careful."

"I know," Snape replied, carefully placing Nagini back where she was.

"You must also be very mindful of Nagini's condition," Dumbledore's gaze pierced through his half-moon spectacles, looking at him with concern.

"I understand," Snape said. "Shall we head back?"

They walked in silence out of the woods and across the grounds.

As they approached the stone steps leading to the castle, Dumbledore suddenly pulled two crystal vials from his robes, swirling with shimmering silver-blue liquid.

"These are from Mr. McKinnon," he said. "After I told him you needed a potion to nourish the soul, he customized them for you based on the most effective formula."

Snape took the crystal vials. The potions within shimmered faintly, like starlight condensed into liquid.

"Are the McKinnons doing well?" he asked, his thumb tracing the smooth surface of the bottle.

"Quite well," a flicker of amusement crossed Dumbledore's eyes. "They've even put on a bit of weight, confined as they are."

"Please thank them for me," Snape said with a small smile, putting the potions away.

Back in his Slytherin dormitory, he lay on his four-poster bed, staring at the green hangings above.

The ripples of the Black Lake cast flickering shadows on the ceiling. A giant squid's tentacles slowly slid past the window, casting brief silhouettes.

After taking the potion gifted by Mr. McKinnon, Nagini rested peacefully by his pillow, her breathing steady.

Snape closed his eyes and saw a dreamscape of shimmering silver.

In the haze, a green snake slithered across the grass, then slowly straightened, transforming into a girl with gentle, dark eyes.

Her steps were light, moving like mist carried by the wind, the rustle of grass beneath her feet the only trace.

But even that soft sound drew his gaze.

Half-asleep, he felt as if he were drifting through the soft waves of the Black Lake, suspended between the dim depths and the rippling light above,

Enveloped in a tangle of soft, spreading seaweed.

He didn't move, his eyes fixed on her.

She walked closer with light steps, completely unclad, moonlight flowing over her skin.

When cool fingertips touched his wrist, he watched her through half-closed eyelids.

She suddenly pushed him down onto the soft grass, coiling around his limbs like a snake.

She extended her arms, propping up her upper body, her jasmine-scented hair playfully brushing his neck.

He chuckled, tightening his arms, slowly but skillfully encircling her. But she straightened, slipping from his grasp.

In the hazy light, her body emanated a soft glow.

Her head tilted back, her long black hair dancing in the air.

Her skin was cold as snow, smooth as satin.

Her eyes were large and dark, reminiscent of water sprites.

Amidst the swaying, he plunged into an ocean of jasmine.

Waves surged there, and currents churned.

Snape awoke with a jolt, looking to his side. The small green snake was still curled up peacefully beside him.

"Tom, Tom," he sat up, retrieved the diary, and in the dim light, stared at the outer parchment.

"You're seriously testing me with this?"

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