Hogwarts i am snape

The morning light, filtered through the deep green of the lake, cast wavering ripples on the dormitory walls. Snape opened his eyes, the jasmine scent from his dream seeming to linger at the tip of his nose.

Nagini's human form in his dream had been so vivid that he instinctively reached for his pillow, as if expecting to feel the touch of human skin.

His fingertips met only cold scales. Snape propped himself up, observing her carefully—Nagini was already awake, watching him with her green vertical pupils. The color of her scales was indeed brighter than yesterday, no longer that dull, dark green.

Even more surprising, when she responded by lifting her head, there seemed to be a long-lost glimmer in her serpentine eyes.

"Good morning, Nagini," he cleared his throat, whispering in Parseltongue, his voice a little raspy from sleep.

Nagini's tongue flickered rapidly, making a soft sound in response. She affectionately brushed against his wrist, winding up his arm, finally settling on his shoulder.

"You're feeling better, aren't you?" he murmured, his fingers gently stroking her head. Nagini hissed softly in response.

After donning his black robes, the little snake deftly slithered into Snape's robes, finding a comfortable spot to coil in his sleeve.

On a Saturday morning, there weren't many people dining in the Great Hall.

Snape sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table, chewing his bread, his mind racing. If his conjecture was correct, Tom would undoubtedly use Nagini to coerce him, no matter what means he employed.

"This can't go on," he set down his knife and wiped his mouth. "Indulging in such illusory tenderness will only make me vulnerable. Tom intends to use this against me, so I must have a countermeasure. In the worst case, it simply means finding another way to break the Blood Curse."

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Rising from the Great Hall and stepping out of the castle doors, the crisp, cool breeze dispersed the irritation in Snape's heart.

He walked across the lawn towards Hagrid's hut, his shoes rustling on the dew-kissed grass.

The large figure of the gamekeeper was busy in the vegetable patch behind the hut.

Hagrid had his back to him, muttering to several pumpkins, each half as tall as a man. His movements were comically clumsy and unsuited to his enormous size.

"Hagrid, what are you doing?" Snape approached the vegetable patch, raising his voice slightly to get his attention.

"Merlin's beard!" Hagrid jumped, nearly tripping over his own feet.

He quickly hid something behind his back. "N-nothing, Severus!" he stammered, one hand behind his back, the other pointing at the pumpkins. "I'm just—looking after them."

"What's that in your hand?" Snape noticed a fleeting glimpse of a pink umbrella tip behind Hagrid, then pointed at the enormous pumpkins, asking deliberately, "How did they get so big? A special breed?"

"They—listen—they're just that big naturally," Hagrid mumbled evasively.

Snape almost burst out laughing, watching Hagrid clumsily turning in circles, trying to block his view.

"You've done quite well," he complimented, observing the flourishing pumpkins. "Is that an Engorgement Charm?"

Hagrid glanced left and right, making sure no one else was nearby, then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Heh heh, not bad, eh?" he said. "I just gave 'em a bit of—well—a bit of a helping hand."

"For the Halloween feast—they'll be big enough by then." He cautiously brought out the small pink umbrella from behind his back and winked at Snape. "But—" he added in a lowered voice, "don't tell anyone, alright?"

"Of course," Snape said with a smile. "I'm sure everyone will enjoy your pumpkins."

"Hey, Severus," Hagrid suddenly leaned closer, speaking in a low rumble. "I heard from Dumbledore that you've joined that organization too?"

"Yes, the Order of the Phoenix," Snape replied. "We're on the same side now, Hagrid. By the way, have you had breakfast?"

"Aye, I have," Hagrid said cheerfully, seeming excited to share a secret. "I've got some fresh rock cakes. Fancy some?"

"Oh, no, thank you, I've eaten," Snape flatly refused; the texture of rock cakes remained an unforgettable torment.

He quickly moved to the point, "I came to borrow a few roosters from you."

"Roosters?" Hagrid scratched his shaggy hair in confusion, his bushy eyebrows knitted together. "What for? Are you—cooking them yourself?"

"No," Snape said. "I need to use them, but I might not be able to return them. If I can't, I'll pay for them."

"Oh, alright, no problem." Hagrid's large face bore an expression of bewilderment, but he nodded anyway. "How many do you need?"

"How many do you have?" Snape countered.

"Hmm," Hagrid began counting on his fingers. "About ten or so."

"Then lend them all to me," Snape said without ceremony.

"What do you need so many roosters for?" Hagrid's eyes widened further.

"Don't ask any more questions," Snape took a deep breath, lowering his voice, speaking with an undeniable authority. "It's a mission given to me by Professor Dumbledore."

Hearing the Headmaster's name, Hagrid immediately straightened up, his face taking on a solemn expression.

"Of course, they're over there." He pointed to a distant shed made of branches and chicken wire. "Come with me." Hagrid pushed open the creaking fence gate, and the chickens immediately became agitated.

A speckled rooster strutted to the front, watching Snape warily. Hagrid happily went to a corner and picked up a few eggs—in his giant hands, the eggs looked pitifully small.

"They're all here," Hagrid said. "Let me count. One—"

"Seven roosters in total." He hesitated. "How are you planning to take them?"

"I'll have Dobby come help," Snape said, already pondering his next steps.

"Who's Dobby?" Hagrid asked.

"A house-elf," Snape said, then added gravely, "Thank you, Hagrid. This matter—"

"I understand, I understand!" Hagrid made a zipping motion over his mouth. "Secret mission!"

After waving goodbye to Hagrid, Snape didn't return directly to the castle but turned towards the wrought-iron gates and headed straight for Diagon Alley.

In the second-hand broom shop, Snape meticulously inspected several brooms.

The shopkeeper, a wrinkled old wizard, incessantly boasted about which Quidditch stars had once owned these brooms.

"This 'Shooting Star'," the old man rasped, "was used by the reserve Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasps in 1972."

Snape scoffed but bought the cheapest old antique anyway—he just needed it to fly.

Next, passing through the Leaky Cauldron into London, he purchased a welding helmet with a visor at a hardware store; at a corner convenience store, he bought over a dozen cases of Coca-Cola; finally, he also went to a pet shop and bought a few fancy rats—

"Money flowing like water," he tallied his depleted coin purse. "I'll have to go to Gringotts again. Best think of a way to increase my income; I can't keep living off my savings."

It was already afternoon when he returned to Hogwarts. Snape quickly headed towards the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.

Upon pushing open the door, he saw Pandora and Lily busily brewing potions with Dobby's assistance. The bubbling liquids in the cauldrons emitted strange fumes, but the two girls seemed completely unfazed.

"Excuse the interruption," he broke their rhythm. "I need Dobby to help me with a small matter for a bit."

"Severus?" Lily looked up, blinking in surprise. "What do you need Dobby for?"

"Just a small thing," Snape said. "It won't take long."

Dobby put down the utensil in his hand, his large eyes looking at them expectantly: "Dobby is willing to serve Master Snape!"

"I think it's fine," Pandora wiped her hands, nodding at Dobby. "We can manage on our own."

"Alright, Dobby, come with me," Snape waved at them. "I'll be right back."

Once in the corridor with Dobby, he led the house-elf straight to the girls' lavatory where Moaning Myrtle once "resided."

The corridor was empty, only their footsteps echoing between the stone walls.

"I need you to do a few things for me, Dobby," Snape pushed open the door, and the smell of mold and dampness assailed them. "It's very important; it concerns the safety of Hogwarts."

"Dobby is willing to do anything for Master!" The house-elf bowed joyfully, his pointed ears trembling with excitement.

After Moaning Myrtle's departure, the girls' lavatory on the second floor remained unused and empty. Dusty mirrors, leaky taps, and peeling walls all spoke of its neglect.

"Good." Snape turned and closed the door. "First, go to the grounds, to the gamekeeper Hagrid's chicken coop, and bring all the roosters here. Be careful not to be seen by anyone other than Hagrid."

Dobby nodded and immediately vanished into thin air.

Using this time, Snape checked every cubicle, ensuring no one was present.

Less than five minutes later, the house-elf reappeared with a pop, clutching a string of seven wildly struggling roosters and a large cloth bag.

One rooster with vibrant feathers broke free from the house-elf's hand, flapping and squawking loudly in the lavatory.

Snape quickly cast a Muffliato charm on the lavatory door, then breathed a sigh of relief.

Dobby dropped the cloth bag to the ground with a thud.

"What's this?" Snape asked.

"Rock cakes," Dobby replied. "Mr. Hagrid said they were very tasty."

"Oh, alright," Snape said helplessly. "Never mind that."

"Listen, Dobby," he knelt down to be at eye level with the house-elf. "In a moment, I will call you. You need to bring all the roosters to me, set them down, and leave immediately, understand?"

"Dobby understands!" The house-elf nodded vigorously.

"Excellent." Snape pulled two protective visors from his bag, shrinking one to the appropriate size with magic. "This is to protect your eyes," he explained, placing the visor over Dobby's head. The house-elf curiously poked the lenses with his fingers. "When you bring me the roosters, keep your head down and don't look around."

Then, he put on the other visor himself, adjusting it to fit snugly.

Through the darkened lenses, the world turned a murky green, reminding him of the lake's glow in his dormitory.

Under Dobby's watchful gaze, he walked to the sink, staring at the small snake carved on the brass tap, and hissed: "Open."

In an instant, a dazzling white light shot from the tap, which began to spin rapidly. Then, the sink slowly moved, sinking into the floor.

Snape watched as the sink slowly disappeared from view, revealing a wide pipe, large enough for an adult to crawl into.

"What is this!" Dobby's astonished gasp came from behind him.

"Don't worry, Dobby," Snape turned, pointing at the pipe. His voice sounded muffled and distant through the visor. "After you deliver the roosters, if I don't come up within half an hour, go find Dumbledore and tell him everything that happened here. Remember that?"

"Dobby remembers," the house-elf wrung his fingers nervously.

"I'm going down now," Snape performed a final check of his gear, looking at Dobby's small head encased in the visor. "Remember what I said."

Dobby nodded clumsily.

Snape took a deep breath, retrieved Nagini from his robes, and gently placed her on the ground: "You stay here."

Then, wand in hand along with the goblin-made dagger, he swung his legs into the pipe.

"Remember, half an hour," he gave Dobby his final instruction, then pushed off with his elbows and slid into the dark pipe.

The descent was more unsettling than imagined.

Snape felt like he was hurtling down a dark, slimy, never-ending slide.

He could see many branching pipes diverging in all directions, but none as wide as the main one. The pipe beneath him twisted and turned, winding steeply downwards.

The pipe curved and angled sharply, Snape bumping into the sides at every turn. He knew he had slid deep beneath the castle, several times deeper than the Slytherin common room at the bottom of the lake.

Just as he began to wonder how to slow down, the pipe's incline gradually lessened, finally becoming horizontal. He adjusted his posture, ready for landing.

With a muffled thud, he emerged from the pipe's opening, landing with a squelch on the damp ground, the sound echoing endlessly in the dark tunnel.

It was a dark stone tunnel, large enough for him to stand upright.

Snape quickly got to his feet, brushed the slime from his hands, raised his wand, and silently murmured, "Lumos!"

The light from his wand tip illuminated his surroundings.

The tunnel walls were coated with slimy secretions, the ground was slippery and littered with small animal bones, and the air was filled with a putrid, fishy smell.

Snape padded cautiously forward on the damp ground, his wand ready to cast a spell at any moment.

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