Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 152 Blue Flame
The door to the medical room opened again, and Grindelwald came out.

The complex emotions on his face had vanished without a trace, replaced by a disguise similar to that of the middle-aged Dumbledore: short, dark brown hair and an indifferent expression.

Ms. Rozier silently returned to his side, as if she had never left.

At the doorway, Gideon and Fabian Prewitt immediately straightened up, looking at Grindelwald with a hint of wariness.

Professor McGonagall immediately went to meet her, her gaze quickly sweeping between Grindelwald and the closed medical room door.

“Mr. Grindelwald,” Professor McGonagall addressed him using a pseudonym, her voice weary but filled with hope, “thank you for your help. We will arrange suitable cabins for you and Ms. Rosier. Also…” she hesitated, then asked the question that concerned her most, “regarding Albus’s condition, do you…do you have any suggestions?”

“Your handling of the situation has been quite good,” Grindelwald said with a smile, adjusting the cuffs of his wizard’s robe. “My advice is to wait patiently and observe how things unfold. Let him lie in bed for a while longer.”

This answer was clearly not what Professor McGonagall most desired, but her shoulders still relaxed slightly:

“I understand. Thank you, Mr. Green.”

Grindelwald nodded slightly, then turned to Snape, who was standing not far away: "Gather everyone. Where is a good place?"

“The dining room, that’s big enough,” Snape replied, glancing at Professor McGonagall. The latter nodded in agreement.

“Very well, let’s go to the restaurant then.” Grindelwald strode away, as if he were the owner of the ship.

After taking a couple of steps, he seemed to remember the Prewitt brothers at the door, and without turning around, he lightly waved his wand, casting an invisible spell upon them:

"You two stay here and don't leave his side. Ensure his safety. You don't need to attend the meeting at the restaurant."

Fabian and Gideon exchanged a glance, offered no objections, and replied, "No problem."

The group walked back down the corridor, the air still faintly filled with the smell of smoke and blood. The smell suddenly intensified as they rounded a corner.

Pandora is emerging from one of the hatches in front.

Her long, silver hair was casually tied up, with a few strands falling beside her cheeks. Her robe was stained with dirt and a strange green sap, and she carried a sturdy-looking straw basket. Inside the basket were several bright red cabbages with tightly closed leaves, resembling dormant wild cabbages.

"Severus!" Pandora exclaimed with delight upon seeing the approaching group, especially Snape in the middle. "Great! You're back!"

“Pandora,” Snape’s gaze carefully swept over her from head to toe before settling on the basket in her hands, “Are you alright?”

“No, not at all.” Pandora shook her head, her silver hair swaying.

"We're using them this time?" Snape asked. He saw the biting cabbages in the basket; their color had changed from green to plump red.

“Yes,” Pandora said, lifting the heavy basket forward, causing the cabbages inside to tremble slightly. “Look, they’ve all turned this color.”

Her movement caused Professor McGonagall, who was standing next to her, to instinctively take a small step back. She immediately realized her lapse in decorum and, looking slightly embarrassed, quickly moved back to her original position.

“Severus,” Pandora said, a hint of fear and confusion in her light-colored eyes, “I have to tell you, they seem to be a little more dangerous than we initially anticipated.”

Snape nodded in agreement, looking at the striking red of the cabbage, and asked, "But it works well, doesn't it?"

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall continued, speaking softly, “the Death Eaters were bitten horribly.” She looked at the strangely colored plants, hesitated for a long time, but finally couldn't help suggesting, “Perhaps we should destroy them? These things are too dangerous; what if they get out of control…”

“Destroy? Haha!” Before Professor McGonagall could finish speaking, Grindelwald let out a low laugh.

He stepped forward, his face full of admiration, and grabbed the reddest, thickest-leaved biting cabbage from Pandora's basket.

The plant twitched in his hand, making a slight creaking sound, as if it wanted to unfold its leaves but was held back and unable to move.

“Such a marvelous creation,” Grindelwald said, toying with the dangerous plant as if admiring a work of art, his gaze towards Professor McGonagall filled with displeasure. “You’re actually thinking of destroying them? How dare you.” He casually tossed the cabbage back into the basket and said to Snape, “Keep them. From now on, I’ll do what I say here.”

“Mr. Green,” Professor McGonagall said, displeased, “you can’t be so forceful here, Professor Dumbledore—”

“I think I can,” Grindelwald said. “Besides, I’ve always been this strong.”

“Professor,” Snape said, looking at Professor McGonagall, “I don’t think it matters, does it? Since Mr. Green is willing to step forward and take responsibility, why shouldn’t we?”

Professor McGonagall nodded with difficulty.

Then Snape took the basket from Pandora. It was heavy, and the cabbage inside smelled faintly of blood and the earthy aroma of plants.

He looked at Pandora and asked, "Is there anything left in the cabin?"

“Yes,” Pandora replied affirmatively, “that was the last one.”

“That’s good,” Snape said. “Come with us to the restaurant.”

Snape and Professor McGonagall prepared to continue. Pandora instinctively tried to follow in Snape's footsteps.

However, Grindelwald stopped. His gaze was fixed on Pandora, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

“Wait,” Grindelwald’s voice held a hint of doubt, “you… give me a familiar feeling.” His eyes, whose true color was obscured by magic, were fixed on Pandora.

Pandora stopped, a hint of confusion on her face: "Me?"

Snape immediately stepped to the side, shielding Pandora behind him.

“Mr. Green, what makes you think that?” he asked.

Grindelwald did not answer Snape, but continued to scrutinize Pandora.

In that moment of stalemate, a small, emerald-green snake silently emerged from the collar of Pandora's robe.

Nagini sensed the tense atmosphere and sharp gazes, immediately raised its head, and hissed threateningly in Grindelwald's direction, its tongue rapidly moving in and out.

Grindelwald's gaze immediately fell upon the small snake. He stared at Nagini for a good ten seconds, the confusion on his face gradually fading, replaced by a look of sudden realization and an indescribable complexity.

His lips twitched slightly, and he shook his head.

"Ah, so it's you." He murmured, as if talking to himself, or perhaps to the little snake.

Grindelwald seemed to have lost interest in investigating. He looked away, waved his hand, and said, "It's nothing, let's go." Then he ignored him and continued walking towards the restaurant.

Snape breathed a sigh of relief, patted Nagini's head reassuringly, and leaned down to whisper a few words in Parseltongue. Pandora also gently patted the snake hidden in her robes. The little snake slowly calmed down and retreated back into the depths of Pandora's clothes.

The dining hall was bustling with a heavy atmosphere. Most of the students were gathered there, their whispers filled with the unease of surviving a close call. When Snape appeared at the door, they all turned to look. And when they saw the brightly colored, biting cabbage Snape was carrying, gasps of shock rippled through the room.

Snape immediately realized the amazing impression these few small cabbages had made on everyone.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, he tapped the basket twice with his wand, trying to erase the marks, but the glaring red of the cabbage leaves remained conspicuous. Left with no other choice, he had to put the basket of dangerous plants into his small bag.

The tense atmosphere in the restaurant then eased.

“This way, Mr. Grindelwald.” Professor McGonagall led Grindelwald to the faculty seating area inside the dining room.

Grindelwald unceremoniously took a seat in the center, clearly the head of the household. Mrs. Rozier stood expressionless in the shadows behind him, her hands elegantly folded in front of her, like his most loyal bodyguard.

His gaze swept across the now noisy restaurant, Grindelwald's eyes scanning the faces at each wooden table, as if assessing something.

Then, he turned to Professor McGonagall, who had just taken her seat, and asked, "Is everyone here?"

“Most of the students and teachers are here,” Professor McGonagall replied, adding, “There are also a few upperclassmen and professors on duty and on guard on deck, as well as some personnel on duty in key positions.”

“Get them all out of here.” Grindelwald gave a soft hum, leaning back in his chair with an air of self-important arrogance. “With me here, this ship doesn’t need extra sentries toiling in the sun. Call them all to the mess hall. I have important instructions, and everyone should listen.”

Professor McGonagall hesitated slightly. But seeing Grindelwald's gaze, she did not insist.

She waved her wand, and several shimmering silver tabby cat guardians flew from the tip of her wand, swiftly and lightly passing through the restaurant doors to deliver the summons.

The buzzing in the restaurant grew louder. The students whispered among themselves, speculating about what this mysterious and powerful stranger was going to do next.

A moment later, footsteps could be heard at the entrance of the restaurant. Professor Flitwick, a short man, was the first to nimbly leap in, followed by three or four older students.

Next to enter were several travel-worn members of the Order of the Phoenix, among whom a disheveled, shifty-eyed figure stood out. It was Mundungus Fletcher.

As soon as Mundungus entered the restaurant, his little eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings.

When he saw Snape sitting at the head table, he immediately waved his arms exaggeratedly: "Hey, Severus! I just heard from Minerva on deck that you went out on a special mission, and you're back so soon? How did it go?"

“Yes, Tong, I’m back.” Snape looked at him and asked, “But I didn’t see you on deck earlier?”

“Me?” Mundungus chuckled dryly, patted his oil-stained robe without a hint of shame, and said loudly in a tone of “I’m very responsible”, “I was in the kitchen, Severus, the big kitchen on the bottom floor.”

“That’s the real fortress. I haven’t left it an inch!” He rubbed his hands together, puffed out his chest confidently, and looked both sly and serious. “You know, in this godforsaken place, food is the most important strategic resource, much more practical than any fancy outposts. I have to guard it, and keep an eye out for those truly clever guys!”

These "profound remarks" earned him a sharp glare from Professor McGonagall.

Mundungus immediately toned it down. He gave Professor McGonagall a wide grin and an exaggerated salute: "Of course, of course, Professor, it's my duty!" Then he quickly slipped to a seat in the last row, leaned back, rocked the chair, and sat down, looking completely relaxed.

Grindelwald's gaze swept across the restaurant again, and he repeatedly asked Professor McGonagall, "Are you sure everyone is here?"

Professor McGonagall glanced around the crowded restaurant, and was about to nod—

“Wait a minute,” Snape said abruptly. He turned slightly to Professor McGonagall and Grindelwald. “There are some house-elves who aren’t here. Should we call them over, Mr. Grindelwald?”

Professor McGonagall also looked at Grindelwald.

Grindelwald waved his hand dismissively: "Whatever, you decide. But since we're going to tell everyone, it's fine to invite them over."

“Understood.” Professor McGonagall nodded immediately, then turned her gaze to Mundungus, who was rocking his chair in the back row. “Mr. Fletcher!”

"Huh? Here!" Mundungus, who was trying to lean back in his chair to keep his balance, was startled and almost fell over.

“Please go outside and gather all the house-elves on the ship here. Mr. Grimm wants to see them.” Professor McGonagall’s tone left no room for refusal. “Right away.”

"What? It's me again?" Mundungus looked reluctant. "What's so great about seeing those little elves..."

But under Professor McGonagall's stern gaze, he muttered complaints that no one could hear, and reluctantly pulled himself back from his reclining chair, lingeringly leaving the restaurant under the watchful eyes of the students.

After a not-too-short time, Mundungus returned with a group of house-elves who looked nervous and whose big ears were twitching.

He plopped back down in his original spot and continued trying his dangerous chair-balancing act. The elves, meanwhile, carefully huddled together near the wall.

Grindelwald slowly stood up. All the faint buzzing in the restaurant vanished instantly; you could hear a pin drop.

All eyes were on the man, and every face, young or old, showed confusion, anticipation, or nervousness.

Grindelwald walked to the center of the restaurant, looking around at the faces, his expression blank.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his steady voice rang out throughout the hall, clearly reaching everyone's ears, "you are living through a dark age. Fear, betrayal, and death are ever-present. And trust," he paused, his gaze sweeping across the crowd, "is the most luxurious and most dangerous thing in this era."

Before he could finish speaking, Grindelwald pointed his wand forward without warning.

"call--"

A cold, pure flame, like liquid sapphire, suddenly erupted from the tip of his staff.

The flames possessed a soul-stirring beauty, like a living tsunami, spinning once in place under Grindelwald's command before sweeping across the entire restaurant in an instant.

"Do not--!"

"What is he doing?!"

Exclamations and screams erupted instantly.

The wizards' expressions changed drastically, and they immediately drew their wands to prepare for a counterattack or defense.

But everything happened too fast; they were too close to Grindelwald.

The icy blue flames instantly pierced through everyone's bodies.

But it didn't burn the actual objects; instead, like a phantom, it passed through everyone's body, tables, chairs, and even walls.

Flames burst forth wildly from the doors, windows, floor cracks, and ceiling corners, surging at an astonishing speed towards every corner of the Founder's Ship.

　Thank you to Yi Yun_, Long362935, PigCanFly, WuZui, IEatTheBonus, menelaus, and BookFriend20220429133557558 for the monthly tickets.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)