Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 94 Who would want your gift?
Neville's grandmother replied quickly.

She makes no secret of the fact that she used the Oblivion Spell on her grandson.

Neville is too weak-willed. Seeing his parents lying in the hospital room, he cried and refused to leave, and didn't even want to go to school. How can this be allowed?
I used a forgetting spell to make him forget about it—I knew it would have an effect on him, but it seems that after your help last semester, this approach is no longer appropriate.

However, the old woman still believed that if Neville couldn't accept that her parents had been driven insane by Voldemort and couldn't bravely face life, then this was the only thing she could do.

Damon sighed and did not write back.

This is their family matter, and it's none of his business how they decide to handle it.

However, the Room of Requirement is now open to Neville, and with them around for a whole year, Neville should be able to truly grow this semester.

Snape was unusually excited for his first Potions class of the new semester.

His good mood was so great that even the Gryffindor students could sense it—for the first time, Snape hadn't deducted more than three points from them in class—although this was quite unreasonable in itself, everyone was used to it.

Snape's sudden change of heart made them somewhat uneasy—except for Damon.

He knew exactly what Snape was expecting—tonight was their first time in solitary confinement—or rather, the lesson in Occlumency.

It seems Snape is eager to embarrass him.

“A fine tonic. It seems you do need some extra guidance.” Snape looked at Damon with a strange smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve prepared everything for you.”

He waved his cloak, ignoring Damon, and moved swiftly among the students like a bat, his energy seemingly boundless.

Harry and the others began to worry about Damon.

When they gathered in the Room of Requirement after class to do their homework, some of them even tried to persuade Damon to talk to Dumbledore about it and ask for a different teacher—the idea of ​​having Snape take over as the professor. They just couldn't understand why this was so strange.

"I dare say he won't teach you anything. Instead, he'll make you deal with a bunch of disgusting materials. I heard that some students saw Snape return to his office with a lot of snake slough powder. That stuff is absolutely nauseating."

Ron had a strange expression on his face, as if he felt that Damon wasn't learning anything.

“He’s hostile to us. I bet he’ll find a reason to deduct your points tonight. He looked really grumpy when Slytherin lost the House Cup last semester.”

Hermione spoke with conviction, and Neville, sitting beside her, nodded in agreement—Snape was simply too horrible; he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be with that man in private.

Damon, on the other hand, had to spend a full two hours with that dreadful professor!

Of the four, only Harry remained silent—he had spent more time with Damon than the others and understood Damon's thoughts better—once he made up his mind, it was impossible to change it.

Moreover, he also agreed that Damon should study—just like how he insisted on participating in Quidditch matches even though he knew Snape was the referee.

Don't back down because you're afraid of Snape. Instead, face him head-on and tell him he's no big deal!
Damon looked at the expressions on their faces—worried, resolute, or resentful—and smiled:
"Don't worry, I have a winning formula. Once I use it, Snape will definitely behave himself for a while."

"You actually have something that Snape was afraid of? What is it?" Ron asked curiously.

"It's not convenient for me to tell you this. Although we don't have any secrets between us, we can't be completely without privacy either—anyway, that's something Snape cares about."

Damon smiled without saying a word, but glanced at Harry—the photos of him dressed as women taken during the summer vacation were about to come in handy.

Snape's office was located underground, on the same floor as the Potions classroom.

Damon arrived ten minutes before 6 p.m. on Friday.

"Knock knock." He knocked lightly on the door, and the office door opened a crack in time, as if Snape had been waiting inside all along.

"Looks like you're pretty punctual."

Snape stood in the gap where half of his body was exposed, a cold light shining on half of his face, making his slightly upturned lips look extremely malicious.

"Professor, it's almost six o'clock. Is your office completely dark?"

Snape stepped aside with a cold expression, and Damon calmly walked into the classroom, surveying his surroundings.

The office was dimly lit, and the air was filled with a strong smell of medicine mixed with the odor of some rotting herbs, making it difficult to distinguish whether it was a nauseating sour smell or a suffocating bitter smell.

Along the wall, shelves were filled with large glass jars, in which floated all sorts of sticky, disgusting things—which looked like the remains of some animals or plants.

The only source of warmth in the entire office was the fireplace, but it wasn't lit at the moment; the main source of light was the old chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"That's really delicious. I think you should really pay more attention to hygiene."

Damon waved his left hand in front of his nose, wondering why Snape didn't clean it up first.

"When did it become your place to meddle in my affairs?"

Snape stood behind Damon, quite displeased with his composed demeanor.

Fortunately, the potion ingredients he had specially collected and were in dire need of processing could now be put to good use.

I'm sure these materials will definitely shut the kid up.

"Let me make this clear beforehand: although it was Dumbledore's request to teach you, it doesn't mean I have to obey him." Snape piled up all sorts of potion ingredients and placed them on the workbench he had specially prepared for Damon.

“From now on, you’ll come here every Friday to work on potions for an hour, and then I’ll teach you Occlumency for an hour.” As if afraid that Damon might disagree, he emphasized, “This is for your own good. Two hours of study time is too long; your mind won’t be able to handle it.”

"Why can't I just study for one hour a week? Why should I work for you?"

Upon hearing this uncooperative response, Snape's face instantly turned cold.

He approached Damon step by step, looking down at him until his nose almost brushed against his hair. "If you don't do it, I won't teach you Occlumency. You can try leaving here and going to Dumbledore to see if he can force me to do it."

Faced with such pressure, Damon just smiled and thought to himself that Snape was really petty, actually arguing with a child to this extent.
Let Lao Deng do it.

You think you'll get some good juice?

"Hey, why be so calculating? I even brought you a gift, and your attitude is really disheartening."

Damon didn't argue back, but instead sadly shook his head.

Snape's lips curled into a wider smile, and he said with a hint of sarcasm:
Stop with your little tricks. Who wants your gift?

He stared at the photo Damon was holding between his fingers, watching it flip as Damon's fingers moved.

It was a deep red that could make his heart stop.

(End of this chapter)