Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 295 Interrogation in the Snow
Hermione stared at the golden timer for several seconds, took a deep breath, and began to sort out what had happened after the luncheon.

During their conversation, Harry and Ron didn't provide a specific timeframe, only remembering that it was about two hours earlier. They parted ways on the stairs, and she went to report to Professor McGonagall. The two of them then ran into Snape in the foyer.

He was then taken directly to his office, where the broom of unknown origin was confiscated.

The timer completes one revolution, rewinding time by one hour. According to the clues they provided, Snape should have left one hour and forty-five minutes ago, so it should rotate 270 degrees.

The time converter made a series of clicks as it turned, similar to the winding of a mechanical watch. Then, a golden ripple spread out, enveloping the figure and beginning to move using time as its coordinate. The dimly lit underground corridor disappeared.

The feeling of traveling through time is like flying on the wind, with scenery beyond dimensions flashing before your eyes, and you always feel light on your feet after landing.

Hermione tiptoed behind a suit of armor and held her breath.

The corridor was quiet, filled with the smell of a crucible, the aroma of a long-simmered potion, permeating every tiny pore of the walls.

The office and potions classroom were not far apart, both rooms had fireplaces, and there were torches along the walls. There were few portrait paintings in the corridor, only a few suits of armor as decoration.

The soft, warm firelight shone on the wall, dispelling the chill and slightly raising the temperature.

The Potions professor's shadow was cast on the wall, expressionless, his steps hurried, carrying a brand-new broom, as he headed straight for the Potions classroom.

Hermione didn't rush over, but instead hid behind her armor, observing Snape's movements.

The series of measures taken by the professor show that he did not intend to make things difficult for Harry. He confined Harry to the underground office, but thoughtfully lit the fireplace and left in a hurry. Although we do not know what his plan is, he did not stay by Harry's side to make things difficult for him. This is completely different from the previous solitary confinement.

After the figure went inside, a new scent of potion filled the air. The third-year students couldn't identify the potion, but they guessed it was one that Snape had brewed in advance and was now using.

A few minutes later, a figure walked out.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she almost cried out in surprise.

Even from a distance, even in the dim underground lighting, Hermione recognized Harry at a glance. He wasn't wearing glasses, was dressed in an ill-fitting robe, was noticeably shorter than a broom, had thin shoulders, and a slender build.

Her breath almost stopped as she hid behind her armor, continuing to observe the figure.

The only potion I can recall that can disguise itself as someone else is Polyjuice Potion. It must have been made by plucking Harry's hair or nails, which explains why Harry was imprisoned.

Her feelings were strange; she was both excited and uneasy.

She was excited because she had finally touched upon a sliver of the hidden truth: the professor disguised himself as a student, and Snape disguised himself as Harry. It didn't seem like they intended to harm him at all; it was more like another form of protection, using Harry's image to achieve some ulterior motives.

She was uneasy because she didn't know what Snape was going to do.

Among those lingering outside Hogwarts, the only one who could be drawn to that face and care about Harry was Sirius Black.

Only after Harry hurried away did he finally exhale the breath he had been suppressing for so long; it was the result of oxygen deprivation caused by the accelerated flow of blood, and his heart felt like it was pounding.

The cold corridor gradually warmed up, and Hermione felt like a detective traveling through time, about to uncover the hidden truth.

Watching him go upstairs, leave the castle and walk out of the hall, Hermione lagged far behind the fake Harry. She was panting from running so fast, but she could only suppress her breath, not daring to make a sound or get too close.

After this is over, I must find a professor to learn the Disillusionment Spell.

The fake Harry in front came down the steps, suddenly mounted his broom, and awkwardly tried to take off. This clumsy beginner’s move seemed unreal on the youngest Seeker Harry, but it was perfectly normal on the body.

He straddled the broom handle, shook it a few times, and wobbled his way into the sky.

Hermione was stunned for a moment. She tried to chase after him for a few steps, but the speed of her two feet in the snow was far slower than that of the broom sweeping across the sky. In just a few seconds, the person riding the broom became a black shadow.

A sense of powerlessness washed over Hermione. She felt incredibly stupid. Snape was holding a broom. She had known this from the beginning, yet she hadn't prepared at all. Foolishly, she chased after him out of the castle, only to watch the shadow grow smaller and smaller.

Her hands clenched into fists, her eyes fixed on the direction the broom had gone.

It wasn't a sports field, nor a forbidden forest; it swept straight across the area and headed towards the school gate.

Hermione started walking again, wading through the snow towards the school gate.

No matter where Snape goes or who he goes to see, he will come back. As long as he is guarding the school gate, he will know the answer immediately.

……

The fire crossbow bolts and brooms fell to the ground, the polished ebony wood reflecting the snow's light, and beside them, a slender figure fell straight down, its robes fluttering, like two meteorites falling.

The black dog ran towards the landing point without hesitation. Ice shards formed from the snow cut its body, and blood flowed down its fur, leaving behind spots of crimson.

Animagus form makes it difficult to dissipate heat. Running quickly for a short time, trying to squeeze every last bit of strength out of his weakened body, his heart and lungs felt like they were about to explode. Sirius couldn't feel the pain; he only felt cold and wanted to shiver violently.

Unacceptable, absolutely unacceptable.

Harry received a Christmas gift from his incompetent godfather, so he rode a broomstick and went for a ride, but accidentally fell off the broom outside the school and may have died in the snow. His remains may not be found until the following spring.

James and Lily died on Halloween thirteen years ago, from the bad idea of ​​their friend who thought he was so clever. Harry was going to die too, on Christmas Day, from the broom his godfather gave him.

Sirius Black felt a chill run through his body, as cold as ice and snow, just thinking about the possibility.

The black dog dared not think any further. It ran desperately toward the falling Harry, then leaped high into the air and cushioned the boy's fall with itself.

Then a monotone voice came from above, as if a cunning and ruthless hunter had finally caught his prey and was about to fall into a trap, chanting a spell expressionlessly.

[Shock Absorption and Speed ​​Reduction]

【Total Petrochemicals】

The two spells were cast cleanly and efficiently: one stopped the downward momentum, allowing the broom and rider to land smoothly, and the other controlled the black dog that was leaping high into the air.

[Original shape appears]

Sirius felt the tip of a staff pressed against his forehead. It was made of birch wood, and the tip was as cold as ice shards, even more sinister, spewing magic like a viper's tongue.

The Animagus's disguise quickly faded, and Sirius immediately realized that this was a trap specifically set for him. The person who set the trap already knew of the Animagus's existence and had also pinpointed the source of the fire bolts.

His limbs and torso remained stiff, but his neck and above could move, facilitating interrogation and forced confessions. This was an extremely sophisticated magical technique, and even with the many unfamiliar changes that had occurred at Hogwarts and in the wizarding world, Sirius was certain that it was something no third-year wizard could master.

The stiff body was slowly turned around, and a thin figure stood in the snow. The person was expressionless, and his eyes were filled with a complex and inexplicable undercurrent of anger, hatred, and, most turbulently, sadness and regret.

He recognized that look; he'd seen it somewhere before.

Their eyes met, and for some unknown reason, a hint of resentment flashed in his eyes, instantly reminding Sirius of someone: the snotty-nosed boy who had been hanging upside down in mid-air during their school days, and the Potions professor who had used dark magic that night.

At that time, his eyes held a similar resentment.

"Snape?" Sirius asked tentatively in a soft voice.

The wizard disguised as Harry did not respond immediately. Instead, he turned his wand tip and tapped it on himself, chanting the same spell, "Reveal Your True Form." The Polyjuice Potion disguise quickly faded, revealing the face of the Potions Professor.

His gaze gradually leveled out, his hair was a bit messy, the ill-fitting wizard robes now fit him perfectly, and he carried the scent of a complex potion.

"We meet again, Sirius Black."

Snape spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice flat and devoid of any joy at the reunion with an old friend.

He had no intention of reminiscing. Instead, he took out a small glass bottle from his pocket. The liquid inside was clear and transparent, odorless, like water, but slightly more viscous.

"Truth serum?"

Sirius Black's eyes were filled with sarcasm: "That's really a trick a Potions professor would use."

Snape roughly pried open his mouth, poured a drop, paused briefly, and then shook out two more drops. Judging from the roughness of his movements, it seemed he intended to pour the whole bottle in, but the professionalism of a potions master prevented him from doing so.

Sirius spat several times, but it didn't stop the potion from working. He quickly became listless and his face became slack.

Snape stared into his eyes, Legilimency spreading along his gaze, probing the deepest part of his head, casting a crude, unreasonable spell mixed with a venting of personal emotions.

"Now, I will ask questions, and you will answer them. There must be no deception or concealment."

"Yes, sir."

"What is the truth about what happened thirteen years ago? Who killed Lily?"

Sirius Black trembled, took a deep breath, exhaled a puff of white mist, and stared blankly ahead: "It's me..."

“I knew it!” Snape sneered.

"It was I who suggested that James transfer Peter Pettigrew to become the Secret Agent."

Sirius's calm, monotonous voice faded into the snow, the howling north wind ceased just in time, as if the entire world had fallen silent, listening to this prisoner of Azkaban reveal the truth of thirteen years ago:
"Harry was just one year old, and Lily hadn't fully recovered yet. Their residence needed to be kept absolutely secret, but the entire wizarding world knew I was their secret agent. They trusted me, but I was worried about Voldemort's dark magic, so I suggested someone else."

“James agreed. He replaced the Secret Service with Peter, while I operated outside to draw the attention of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I thought the plan was foolproof.”

Snape clenched his fist, and a heavy tone finally appeared in his previously flat voice—an barely suppressed rage—followed by sorrow and despair in his eyes.

Sirius's face showed a pained expression, a symptom of Legilimency violently churning his brain, and also a result of the grief and indignation of memories flooding back:
“Peter was a spy. He had secretly sided with Voldemort long ago, passing on intelligence from the Order of the Phoenix multiple times. On the surface, he was still our friend. After obtaining the Potter family's address, he immediately notified Voldemort... James and Lily were murdered not long after.”

"And then?" Snape asked in a low voice.

"When I arrived at Godric's Hollow after receiving the news, all that was left was ruins. Hagrid was holding the surviving Harry. I let him ride my motorcycle and go find Peter to settle the score on his own."

Sirius Black trembled, but his tone remained calm:
"Finally, on a bustling Muggle street, I caught up with Peter. He was no match for me, so he deliberately provoked me with James and Lily to distract me for a moment. Then he seized the opportunity to detonate the entire street's sewer pipes. After the explosion subsided, only a finger was left at the scene. I thought he was dead."

"Why didn't you say so sooner?" Snape said angrily. "Why didn't you explain things to the Auror and expose his true colors?"

"I want to atone for my sins."

Sirius said, “I thought he was dead. He paid for his crimes, and I should pay for my mistakes too. So I didn’t argue and let the Aurors take me away and lock me up in Azkaban.”

"Then why did you run away?"

"I've found Peter's trail."

Sirius's hands trembled. He tried to clench his fist, but the petrification spell prevented him from moving. "Peter's Animagus is a rat. Azkaban installed a reflex camera to broadcast the news, and I saw that Weasley kid with that rat on him. He didn't die; he's been lurking around Harry all along."

"So, when you attacked Ron Weasley twice, your real target was that rat?"

"Yes."

Snape grew increasingly furious; his nostrils flared, his chest heaved violently, and he exhaled puffs of white breath.

No wonder Peter wanted to go into hiding, no wonder he wanted to use his own hand to kill Blake, everything makes sense now.

"That rat faked his death and escaped again. Why don't you go find him? Why are you still staying at Hogwarts and giving Potter a broom?"

"Because Scabbers is still at Hogwarts."

"What?!" Snape was both surprised and delighted.

“I hired a kitchen elf, Dobby, who told me that there have been mice in the kitchen lately, always stealing food in the middle of the night. If they weren’t leaving missing toe footprints on the jack-o’-lanterns, they wouldn’t even be noticed… Only Peter could catch the mice that dozens of house-elves couldn’t.”

Sirius said, "I'm planning a more elaborate attack, aiming for a fatal blow. Before that, I've taken the time to prepare a gift for Harry."

Snape frowned. "How do you contact that house-elf? How did you sneak into the school the previous times?"

"There's a secret passage beneath the Screaming Shack, which you've been to before."

"The secret passage beneath the Willow Tree that Beats People?"

"Yes."

The north wind began to blow again, like a silent sigh, and a cold glint flashed in Snape's eyes.

(End of this chapter)