Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 72 The Darkness of Mars
"Anything else?" Snape asked.

"What else do you want?" Pandora looked at him with a puzzled expression, then slowly walked to the long table, gently took off the bracelet, picked up her wand, and carefully engraved the patterns on the bracelet.

Just then, Myrtle finally flew down from the lamp and darted to Snape's side, cheerfully saying, "There's more!"

But she didn't control her speed well, and before Snape could react, she passed right through his body.

A chill instantly enveloped Snape, and he couldn't help but shiver slightly. He hurried toward the door, saying, "Goodbye... goodbye, you're busy."

The following week, they took another lesson on apparition. But after several lessons, apparition was still just as difficult, except that a few people managed to split into multiple clones.

Snape wasn't much better off; his biggest breakthrough came during the third lesson when he watched a tuft of his hair flash into the wooden hoop.

This also gave him a full understanding of the dangers of the Phantom Manifestation activity. Who knows, after a few more attempts, he might end up with a hairstyle that resembles that of a powerful person?

Meanwhile, a sense of unease began to spread among the students, and the number of disappearances reported in the Daily Prophet seemed to be increasing. Among those missing was a relative of a Hogwarts student named Mark Foley.

On Friday morning, Marco Foley was called out of Defense Against the Dark Arts class and told that his father hadn't come to work for over a week. They haven't seen Marco Foley since.

According to word of mouth among his classmates, Mark came from Welsh Village in Hampshire, and his father worked in the Muggle Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic. Unlike typical pure-blood families, the Welsh family had a long-standing and pronounced pro-Muggle bias, which earned them no shortage of disdain from other families in the wizarding world, with the exception of a few, such as the Weasleys.

On Sunday evening, Snape appeared outside the headmaster's office on time.

Before he could exchange more than a few words with the dessert guard at the door, the breach opened from the inside.

Dumbledore emerged from the gap, a long black travel cloak draped over his arm.

“Let’s go, Severus, let’s go to Lancashire and see Mr. Bob Ogden.”

“Professor,” Snape hurried after Dumbledore, “aren’t we going to Apparate there?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore’s tall figure moved up the stairs step by step, “Apparition may take us directly to our destination, but it also makes us miss a lot of the scenery along the way.”

“Mr. Ogden has retired, so we don’t need to rush this time. Let Thestrals take us to England.”

“I believe you can see the Thestrals, don’t you?” Dumbledore stopped and turned to look at Snape, asking gently.

“Of course,” Snape said irritably, walking past Dumbledore. “Aren’t you just asking the obvious?”

In the twilight filtering through the corridor windows, the two descended the stairs, entered the foyer, exited through the main gate, and left the castle. The noisy conversations and the clinking of cutlery in the hall gradually faded behind them.

“Sigh, while my classmates are enjoying their meals,” Snape shook his head, feigning helplessness, “I have a heavy responsibility to shoulder, toiling away to save the world.”

"Slytherin, one hundred points." Dumbledore's calm voice rang out in the night.

“Hmm?” Snape scoffed. “You know this isn’t important to me.” “But didn’t you want to be the student council president?” Dumbledore continued walking. “I need to find you a reason. If you’re not satisfied, how about I give you the wand I’m holding?”

“No, I don’t want it,” Snape refused repeatedly. “No one else’s wand is as good as your own.”

What a joke! Would a person with a clear mind accept this infamous death stick so easily?
The setting sun slowly sank below the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, casting its last rays upon the grass. They crossed the grounds, passed Hagrid's hut, and reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

They walked straight into the thicket, venturing deeper and deeper into the forbidden forest. The path gradually became overgrown with weeds, the trees grew denser, and the light became as dim as midnight.

The forbidden forest was pitch black, and apart from the faint sound of flowing water, the surroundings were completely silent.

Suddenly, the bushes rustled, and the sound of the leaves alerted Snape. He instinctively raised his wand to his chest and stared warily ahead.

Dumbledore reached out and pressed his wand down slightly, shaking his head to indicate that he didn't need to worry.

The ground of the Forbidden Forest trembled, and the sound of clattering hooves filled the air. Several centaurs, with human upper bodies and animalistic lower bodies, carrying bows and arrows, galloped out of the forest.

“Hello, Dumbledore,” said a centaur with a long red tail, looking melancholy.

“Hello, Ronan.” Dumbledore stepped forward, shook hands with the centaur, and asked, “Have I disturbed you? What’s going on?”

“No,” Ronan said, looking up at the sky, his voice low and sorrowful. “Mars is unusually dark tonight. The future is unpredictable, and we follow the celestial phenomena.”

“Enough with the nonsense,” another centaur with a black body and black beard raised his foreleg and shook it, looking a little impatient, but after glancing at Dumbledore, he slowly lowered his hoof. “We absolutely cannot defy the will of Heaven. Dumbledore, what brings you here tonight?”

"It's just a riddle, anyone can do that." Snape couldn't help but step forward and say, "The wind blows through the treetops, asking why it blows; the rain falls in the forest, asking why it falls."

Upon hearing this, the horsemen irritably pawed at the ground with their hooves, their faces showing an angry expression.

“Alright,” Dumbledore nodded with satisfaction and said with a smile, “If there’s nothing else, I’m sorry we can’t keep you company any longer.”

The black centaur wanted to say something more, but Ronan gestured to Dumbledore's presence, stopping him: "Bane, what we're looking for isn't here."

The horsemen roared away once more, their figures quickly disappearing into the depths of the forest.

“I hate the Riddler the most,” Snape complained with a look of disgust.

“That’s the nature of the centaurs, Severus,” Dumbledore’s cheerful voice echoed through the Forbidden Forest. He raised his wand, and with a soft “thud,” a piece of raw flesh, still dripping with blood, fell to the ground. “We never get straightforward answers from them.”

Soon, several Thestrals, following the scent of blood, slowly made their way through the bushes. Their large, leathery bat wings were tucked tightly to their sides, and their white eyes gleamed in the darkness.

　Thanks to book friend 20200113225205530 for the reward.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)