Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 146 Another Dark Wizard
The next issue of the Daily Prophet featured a follow-up report on the Dark Mark appearing at Hogwarts.

This report strongly condemned the barbaric acts of the Mystic forces, vehemently denounced the Death Eaters' actions, and expressed the Ministry of Magic's extreme shock and determination.

The report concluded by stating that the Ministry of Magic had held emergency consultations and would take strong measures.

“What does it say?” Professor Flitwick asked.

Snape pushed the newspaper toward him.

Professor Flitwick immediately stood on tiptoe and eagerly scanned the text, then looked puzzled: "They said the Ministry of Magic will take measures, what measures?"

Professor McGonagall let out a suppressed groan, took a step forward, and pulled out a newspaper from the bottom of the stack of newspapers she had brought back. The paper was still very new, and the smell of ink was still faintly audible. It was the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

She unfolded the newspaper, spreading it across the entire table.

Professor Flitwick gasped when he saw the large photo and headline on the front page.

Occupying the center of the page is a huge, meticulously edited photograph. The background is the familiar Hogwarts Castle.

The man in the photo has a head of neatly combed light blond hair, and his pale, handsome face wears an impeccable, approachable smile as he elegantly winks at the camera.

Above the photo, a line of bold, dark magical text caught the three's eye: "Ministry of Magic Seeks Educational Reforms; Abraxas Septimus Malfoy Appointed as the New Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

Professor Flitwick practically scrambled onto the chair next to him, just so he could get a better look down at the newspaper.

He grabbed the newspaper with trembling hands, and read it aloud in a shrill, almost cracking voice:
"In a motion last night, the Ministry of Magic passed the groundbreaking Hogwarts Emergency Management Act and related amendments to the law, enabling it to ensure the normal operation of this ancient institution in special circumstances and to effectively protect the interests of all teachers, students and the entire wizarding world."

The Daily Prophet has learned that the wizarding community has long been increasingly uneasy about Hogwarts' current state of teaching, management, student body, and security. After listening to the deep concerns expressed by parents, the Ministry of Magic acted swiftly and decisively in response to this growing public anxiety.

"It is against this urgent backdrop that, in order to rebuild order, ensure security, and restore the glory that Hogwarts deserves, Mr. Malfoy has been officially appointed as the new Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after careful nomination and approval by a special committee composed of senior officials from various departments of the Ministry of Magic."

"Mr. Malfoy himself is a highly respected senior figure in the wizarding world, a successful philanthropist, and also has profound knowledge in magical theory and educational philosophy."

When interviewed by reporters, he displayed his usual humility: "To be honest, I personally have no intention of taking this position." He smiled gently, his eyes earnest, "This goes against my desire for a peaceful life."

"However, as a teacher at the school, after learning about its predicament and the anxieties of its teachers and students, I deeply felt a heavy responsibility—a responsibility for the future of the children, a responsibility for the foundation of the magical world."

Mr. Malfoy also frankly admitted the challenges he faced: "Hogwarts is in dire need of rebuilding, and this is not something one person can accomplish alone. In particular, the crucial position of Defense Against the Dark Arts is beyond my personal capacity to take on personally. Therefore, I regret to inform you that the original arrangement for me to teach this class has to be adjusted."

"Hogwarts is now open to applications from the entire British wizarding community. We welcome all outstanding wizards with a passion for educational reform and exceptional abilities to apply for this important position and contribute to purifying the school and reshaping elite education..."

Professor Flitwick couldn't continue reading. He was trembling all over.

“Cow shit! Malfoy? Headmaster?! What does he know about Hogwarts? What does he know about education?!” His voice rose sharply, grating with utter absurdity. “Albus is alive! How dare they… how dare the Ministry of Magic?!” He jerked his head up at Professor McGonagall. “They’ve destroyed centuries-old principles and traditions! This is usurpation! It’s…”

“Of course they dare,” Snape interrupted him. “This report itself is the best declaration.” He said bluntly, “The Ministry of Magic has effectively fallen, and the struggle between the Ministry and the School of Magic will come to a temporary end.”

This cold assertion plunged the cabin into silence, with only the rumble of thunder outside the window.

Professor Flitwick put the newspaper back on the table, slid off the chair in a daze, and curled up in the armchair, looking much older all of a sudden.

"What should we do?" After a long while, he murmured, his voice filled with unprecedented confusion.

“We move on,” Snape said calmly. “We protect the students, we seek allies, we wait for our chance.”

“Of course, given the Mysterious Man’s overwhelming power,” he said, his gaze sweeping over Professor McGonagall’s taut lips and Professor Flitwick’s dazed face, “we need to find a foothold, professors.”

“We must find someone capable of standing against the Dark Lord. This ship,” he pointed to the ground, “no matter how ancient and powerful its magic may be, it is essentially a moving island. Once he or his henchmen discover the 'Founder's Ship,' this ship, and everyone on board…”

Snape didn't continue, but the meaning was clear. Without Dumbledore's protection, a ship flying in the sky, even with Hogwarts' most elite wizards, is like a lamb to the slaughter in the face of absolute power.

Professor McGonagall leaned wearily against the edge of the wooden table, sighed, and looked at the young man in front of her with a complicated expression. He seemed like a complete stranger to her.

“Severus,” she said, “if a few more years pass, with your talent, I believe you will have the potential to reach that level to some extent. But what about the wizarding world today?” She shook her head heavily. “Apart from the sleeping Albus, there is no other wizard in all of Europe who possesses the power to confront the Mystic head-on.”

“Even Albus’s old friend, Nicolas Flamel,” she shook her head again, her voice dry, “his greatness lay in alchemy, in immortality, not in combat. Time has long since taken away that edge. He’s too old.”

"Wait!" Professor Flitwick suddenly sat bolt upright in his armchair. He glared at Snape and shrieked, "You...you weren't referring to that one...were you not joking before?!"

He recalled that a few days earlier, when everyone was at a loss, Snape stood by the bedside of the unconscious Dumbledore and seemed to inadvertently mention a being that had once made the entire European wizarding world tremble and forced the International Wizarding Federation to unite against it.

“Why not him, Professor?” Snape met his gaze and said, “I really can’t think of any other living person who could meet our requirements.”

“Absolutely not!” Professor McGonagall abruptly straightened up, her weariness replaced by a strong sense of opposition and anxiety. “Gellert Grindelwald is another enormous threat, a dark wizard no less formidable than the Mystic.” “His ideology will plunge the wizarding world into the abyss of destruction. To turn to him?” she practically questioned Snape. “That would be tantamount to sacrificing one’s soul to the devil for survival, or jumping from one inferno into an even hotter, more uncontrollable lava pool! Releasing him could lead to far more serious and unpredictable consequences than with the Mystic!”

“Minerva is right, that’s insane.” Professor Flitwick nodded slightly. “Grindelwald’s ideas are too dangerous. We can’t take the risk of releasing another dark wizard, Severus, that won’t do.”

Snape listened quietly to the two professors' reasons for their objection, his expression remaining unchanged.

When their excited chatter subsided, he spoke in a calm tone:

"Panic has clouded your judgment, professors. Let me ask you a simple question: Do you really believe that the cold tower of Nurmengard can hold Gellert Grindelwald?"

Before they could answer, he pressed on: "Or do you think that the Dementors of Azkaban, who act on instinct, are really capable of imprisoning our Professor Dumbledore?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth.

“The answer is obvious, isn’t it?” Snape shrugged lightly. “They all possess the strength and intelligence to leave their cages; the only difference lies in whether they want to, and how much time they would need to waste to do so.” He took a step forward, placing his hands on the table and leaning slightly forward. “Furthermore, you seem to have confused one thing:
“We should not simply equate Grindelwald, a political leader with a clear political platform who is trying to reshape the world order, with an extremist like the Mysterious Man who seeks dominance through pure deception and killing. Their goals, methods, and beliefs are completely different.”

“To put it another way, Professor,” he looked at Professor McGonagall, “can you tell me if you have ever heard of any powerful magical measures, besides those stone walls and iron bars, specifically designed to prevent Grindelwald from escaping from Nurmengard Castle? Such as Dementors like those in Azkaban? Or some kind of powerful magical contract?”

Professor McGonagall began to try to recall, her brows furrowing deeper and deeper. Her eyes flickered, a complex emotion flashing across them.

“There doesn’t seem to be any specific record,” Professor Flitwick shook his head in confusion. “Although this seems somewhat illogical, but…”

“Let me tell you something to help you recall,” Snape’s voice lowered, carrying a hint of recounting a secret, “based on reliable accounts in authoritative works such as *A History of Modern Magic*, *The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts*, and especially *Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century*.”

"Apart from those cold, solid but ultimately just physical stones and steel, the cell in the highest tower of Nurmengard, the place where Grindelwald was imprisoned, had no additional powerful magical protection."

“Yes, professors, there is nothing there except despair itself.” He paused, emphasizing his words, “And, the latest edition of Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century has added a little-known anecdote to its appendix.”

"In the twentieth year of Grindelwald's imprisonment, a witch named Wenda Rozier, one of Grindelwald's most core and loyal followers, successfully escaped from the French Ministry of Magic's high-stakes prison with her great strength and determination."

"You actually read history books so carefully?" Professor Flitwick exclaimed in a low voice.

Snape rolled his eyes and continued, “She had a clear goal. Since escaping, Ms. Rosier had endured countless hardships, stealthily crossing borders, evading numerous pursuers, and finally arriving at the foot of the snow-capped mountains of Austria, climbing the towering prison tower of Neumontard. She used the most basic and simple lock-picking spells she knew to open the iron door of that cell.”

He stopped and glanced at the two professors' faces, which were holding their breath in concentration.

"And then?" Professor Flitwick couldn't help but ask eagerly.

"Then, the door opened, and what did she see?" Snape slowed his pace. "In that small, cold stone room, the only furniture was a narrow, hard bed. And on the bed sat a figure."

"A man who is much older and thinner than Grindelwald was at his peak."

There was no ecstatic reunion, no heartfelt condolences from the leader. It was as if the years of imprisonment had drained all his vitality, leaving only a skeletal frame and a profound weariness.

"Ms. Rozier rushed into the cell with a look of joy on her face. She called out to him excitedly, telling him about the situation outside, that his followers were still waiting for his call, and that freedom was just around the corner."

"But the man simply slowly raised his eyelids."

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly, as if mimicking those deep-set eyes: "He gazed at her silently with those eyes that had once burned with a fervent fire, but were now as still as two stagnant pools."

There were no lights in the room, only moonlight streaming in from the window. In this dim light, Grindelwald gave a serene smile. He said, 'You leave, Venda, I won't go out.'

"According to records, the powerful witch who was willing to go through fire and water for him felt as if all the bones in her body had been removed at that moment. There was no pleading, no arguing, and not even questioning."

She simply slumped slowly and silently onto the cold ground. There were no tears, no screams, only an empty silence.

She just sat there, listening to the cold wind howling outside the tower.

"It is unknown how much time passed, perhaps a few minutes, perhaps several hours. Finally, when the French and German Auror elites, alerted by the alarm, arrived like hunting prey and rushed to the top of the tower, Ms. Rozier offered no resistance."

She calmly stood up, dusted off her robes, and took one last look at the man sitting on the bed like a statue. She then let the Aurors lock the iron door she had desperately opened and take her away.

"And Grindelwald, from beginning to end, never left that hard bed."

　感谢梨花落尽成秋色、木易晶晶晶晶、怒怒怒大王、秋叶似海、猪也会飞、读行万里、寅盒护卫队、梵书尘、风起缥缈、lege、华西医学狗一枚、系统小白文给爷爬、_王必咸_、今天又在等更新、一般疯狂、书友20221106110304128、书友20200612193735132、书友20200727013202864、书友20220402212209533、书友20170101012150626、书友20230422005031334、书友20210407174125371、读者20210106155606185319268、书友20220122230434362的月票。

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　　In Chapter 27 of The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore says, “I’m afraid I’m not going to sit here and wait to die, Cornelius. I don’t want to be sent to Azkaban at all. Of course, I could escape—but what a waste of time, and frankly, I remember I have a lot of things to do, and I’d much rather do those things.”

　　
　
(End of this chapter)