Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 122 You are a bit too extreme

“An interesting question, Spike.” Tom’s handwriting gradually returned to a steady rhythm. “It seems you’ve encountered the sweet dilemma of a fine wizard. Are you pursuing two girls at the same time?”

"Pursuing? No, they're fighting over me." Snape deliberately used an arrogant tone that made people grit their teeth. "They all want to have me all to themselves, but I'm so good that if I belong to only one person, wouldn't that be a huge injustice to the others? Besides, there are more than two of them."

The ink smudged on the paper before slowly forming words. "Good people should indeed have more choices," Tom's handwriting became somewhat stiff again. "I faced a similar situation in fifth grade. Three girls, all... were very kind to me."

“You?” Snape wrote quickly. “But I’ve never even heard of you. Are you as good as me?”

The ink was absorbed quickly, and Tom's response appeared faster than ever before.

"Perhaps I have a different name now. What year is it? Who is the greatest and most powerful wizard in the world?"

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly, his fingertips lightly tracing the quill. The question was too direct, almost revealing the urgency on the other end of the diary. He deliberately paused for a few seconds before slowly putting pen to paper.

“In 1983,” he said, mixing truth with lies, “the current headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, was recognized as the greatest wizard of his time.”

"Professor Dumbledore has become the Headmaster of Hogwarts?" Tom replied immediately, his handwriting suddenly becoming hurried. "Back in my day, he was the Transfiguration professor. Did you know—"

Snape interrupted him again before he could finish writing.

“Professor Dumbledore has been a Transfiguration teacher for quite some time, Riddle,” he wrote. “If you want information from me, what can you give me? Not empty promises.”

"If you can't help me, as a fellow Slytherin, tell me why I should waste my time with you? Let's solve my problem first. You said you've also faced problems with girls, how did you deal with them?"

The diary remained silent longer than ever before. Snape almost thought the conversation was over, but finally, a new line of writing slowly appeared:
"Mediocrity is the enemy, Spike. If I may be frank, you've made a mistake that only mediocre people make. True strength is never constrained by 'choices,' but rather makes choices work for it."

Snape read the words. Familiar rhetoric, he thought.

“I made them understand that I deserve their affection,” Tom continued. “I think you should understand that strength is key. Girls are attracted to strong people. Show them your abilities and let them see your worth.”

“When I was in fifth grade, three girls took turns helping me organize my notes every week… They even made a schedule for it. So all you need is to empower yourself.”

A hint of mockery flashed in Snape's dark eyes, and he gave a soft snort.

“But that only solves the macro-level problem,” he wrote. “My current predicament remains unresolved, Riddle. Do you have anything else to say? As a memory, you seem to know very little.”

A new line of slightly messy handwriting appeared again in the diary:

“If you care about girls that much, then let me tell you, the key is that you have to make them feel special—which doesn’t mean they’re the only ones.”

"Specifically, you need to make each of them feel that they are receiving enough attention, unlike the attention you give to others, and sharing each other's secrets."

"But you can't let them be aware of each other's presence. You need to create 'coincidences'—for example, 'bump into' one in the library, or 'happen to' practice spells with another after a spell class."

"Is that all?" Snape stared at the passage thoughtfully, but still deliberately wrote, "Too much trouble and too much of a waste of time. Never mind, I'll just use the method I originally considered. I think a love potion is a more effective option; Professor Slughorn taught us about it."

The diary seemed to tremble slightly. Snape could almost picture a young Voldemort frowning at the other end of the diary.

At that moment, Lily and Pandora were at the long table, waving at him.

Snape then put away his diary and walked toward them.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking down at the steaming crucible in front of them.

“Severus,” Pandora exclaimed excitedly, “with the help of these tools, we’re almost there after just the second potion! I have such a talent for potions!”

“That’s right, your talent isn’t just in spell experiments.” Snape leaned closer. “Let me see.” He noticed that the potion had become clear and transparent, emitting pale purple smoke, which was exactly the sign of near success described in “The Practical Potions Master.” “Looks good, but I don’t know if it will actually work. Perhaps we need a volunteer.”

After he finished speaking, he and Lily exchanged a glance.

“It will be ready in about another hour,” Lily said with a smile, holding a timer in her hand. “I will keep an eye on it to determine the optimal cooking time.”

“Great,” Snape said. “I also have some initial candidates in mind for the volunteers. It’ll be a little over a week from now. I’ll talk to them later tonight.”

"Those werewolves who live in the Forbidden Forest?" Pandora asked curiously.

“No,” Snape winked at her, then shook his head. “Other werewolves, I need to keep that a secret.”

Hearing Pandora's words and seeing that Snape didn't offer any further explanation, Lily's expression seemed even happier.

But Pandora seemed equally happy. She assumed Snape was referring to another group of werewolves, the ones who lived in the Forbidden Forest. He had mentioned them to her in casual conversation and had asked her to keep it a secret.

Seeing their expressions, Snape paused for two seconds before realizing he had unintentionally caused a misunderstanding—the two girls each perceived different werewolf volunteers. Tom's suggestion had actually worked—he shared a secret with each of the two girls, and they all believed themselves to be special.

He couldn't help but rub his chin, secretly chuckling to himself.

“Very good,” Snape said, deliberately making his tone nonchalant. “You can continue. I’m going to rest for a bit. Remember, no sugar.”

Both of them agreed to his request with satisfaction.

Back in his corner, Snape reopened his diary, which was now blank.

“Did you say anything, Riddle? Two girls came to see me, so I didn’t notice what you were writing,” he wrote.

The paper trembled slightly in his hand, and a line of writing slowly appeared:
“Even as a Slytherin, don’t you think using love potions is a bit too extreme?” Tom’s handwriting was particularly forceful. “It’s a despicable form of coercion. A truly great wizard should rely on his own strength.”

Attacking an infant with his own strength? Snape could barely contain his expression. A fragment of a dark wizard's soul hidden in a diary was trying to reason with him about morality? It was utterly absurd.

“Let’s not dwell on this,” he wrote dismissively. “Since what you said earlier was somewhat helpful, what do you want to know? Being trapped in a diary for so many years must have been unpleasant.” “Hmm… it certainly wasn’t very pleasant. Sorry, Spike, that’s why I’ve been asking you so many questions.”

“I can’t hear or see; writing is the only way I can communicate with the outside world,” Riddle’s gentle reply followed. “Professor Horace Slughorn is still your Potions teacher, and he’s not young anymore.”

"I wonder if the Slug Club is still going on. I still miss the days when I attended those parties. Did the professor tell you who his favorite student was in the club?"

Without hesitation, Snape wrote: "Me".

After his brief reply disappeared, a small blot of ink spread across the paper as if accidentally dripped, followed by Tom's reply. Furthermore, Snape noticed that the ink seemed to have spread more slowly:

“Alright,” Tom asked, “let’s change the subject. Is the wizarding world peaceful lately?”

After wandering around for so long, we've finally arrived here. Snape's eyes lit up; this was the issue Tom was truly concerned about.

After a moment's thought, he decided to tell Tom that Voldemort had been defeated; otherwise, logically speaking, this diary would never have fallen into the hands of a Hogwarts student.

“Not bad,” Snape added some ink to his quill and continued writing. “There hasn’t been much turmoil in Britain since Voldemort was defeated by Dumbledore four years ago.”

“Voldemort? Is he the most powerful dark wizard recently?” Tom’s words were more pronounced. “When this part of my memory was recorded, the most famous dark wizard was Gellert Grindelwald.”

“That’s ancient history,” Snape continued his half-truth, “In 1945, Grindelwald was also defeated by Professor Dumbledore, so you understand why he is the greatest wizard, right? Both of these events are recorded in the book ‘The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts’.”

“I think this is really good news,” Tom said. “Back in my day, wizards and Muggles alike were living in endless fear, worried that the war between wizarding and Muggle communities would sweep over them. Nobody had a peaceful day.”

“Yes,” Snape wrote, “fortunately, the war between the two worlds is over now, and all is well. There’s nothing to worry about. Except, of course, my personal problems.”

"So, what happened to those two dark wizards afterward?" Tom ignored Snape's next question and continued to ask.

“I suddenly understand why you care about these things,” Snape wrote casually. “You guys had a really tough time back then.”

"After Grindelwald was defeated by Dumbledore, he was imprisoned in the tower of Nurmengard. As for Voldemort, he completely disappeared without a trace. It is said that after he was defeated by Dumbledore, he left only a wisp of smoke and there was no corpse left."

"What do you mean by not even leaving a corpse?" Tom's handwriting became even more illegible.

"Literally, he vanished from the face of the earth." Snape couldn't help but chuckle a few times. Lily and Pandora turned to look at him strangely, and he quickly waved his hand, indicating that there was no need to worry. "Even Voldemort's loyal Death Eaters turned against him and abandoned their master's cause after he disappeared."

"Thank you, Spike." After a short wait, the words were written out of the diary, stroke by stroke: "It's getting late, let's talk another day."

“Don’t rush, Riddle,” Snape wrote hastily, deliberately making his handwriting appear somewhat flustered. “I have another question. Do you know how to break the curse on the blood-cursed orcs?”

“A Blood Curse Orc? That’s quite rare.” The ink flowed slowly, and Tom’s handwriting became cautious. “This wouldn’t happen to be the kind of girl you’re hoping to choose, would it? Anyway, it just so happens that I might be able to help you in this regard.”

“Then tell me, Riddle,” Snape wrote, his handwriting urgent and sincere.

“I’d be happy to help you, Spike. It’s been a long and painful time without anyone speaking to you, my new friend.” The diary paused for a moment, then a passage appeared that made Snape gasp for breath, “But first, let’s start with your real name. I need to know your name to be able to help you.”

Snape suddenly broke out in a cold sweat, and his fingertips trembled slightly.

He speculated that Tom's diary might require the writer to reveal their true self in order to absorb the other's soul. Tom might have deduced from this feedback that he hadn't told him his real name.

After much deliberation, Snape decided to take the risk, but killing the Basilisk had to be done immediately.

“Um… I’m sorry, Riddle.” He chose his words carefully. “Out of caution, I think you can understand why I did this. My name is Severus Snape.”

The ink spread across the paper but didn't disappear immediately, as if the person on the other end was processing the information.

“Very well, Snape.” The handwriting was exceptionally smooth. “Now we have a foundation of mutual trust. Tell me, what is the animal form of your blood-cursed orc girlfriend, and what stage is she at?”

"She can no longer transform from a snake into a human."

"snake?"

"Yes."

"You can speak Parsley?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, but Parsleyan speech is extremely rare. I thought you were Muggle-born."

“No, I am half and half,” Snape wrote. “My father is a Muggle.”

"Really?" Tom continued his questioning. "So, do you speak Parsley? Where can you trace your maternal lineage back?"

“The first question, yes,” Snape replied. “The second question, I don’t know. Would you be willing to help me break the curse on the blood-cursed orcs?”

"I think so."

"What do I have to give?"

I'll tell you later.

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(End of this chapter)