A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 430 Snape's Stolen Life

"Since I refused Voldemort, there hasn't been a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who could teach me for more than a year."

Back in his office, Dumbledore sat in his chair and spoke softly.

"We lost an excellent professor almost every year, and it took me several years to realize it."

Voldemort cast a curse on this position—a very powerful curse. Even I cannot break it.

"It will only be automatically deactivated when Voldemort dies," Dumbledore said.

"Therefore, I had no choice but to take appropriate measures to deal with this situation."

Dumbledore's so-called measures were quite obvious: he specifically selected problematic dark wizards to serve as professors of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The Dark Lord dealt with the Dark Wizard perfectly.

He even invited Abraxas Malfoy to take the position.

Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius's father, was a man of considerable experience and a veteran of many battles.

He immediately saw through Dumbledore's sinister intentions and wrote to the headmaster, using the most vicious words to insult Dumbledore's family.

They even smugly humiliated him in the Daily Prophet.

Then... the following year, old Malfoy contracted dracunculitis and died.

On the day of the funeral, Dumbledore also sent a bouquet of flowers to express his condolences.

This is truly a sad story.

In those years, rumors circulated about death invitations.

The most vicious curses people can make are: "Your mother will definitely receive an owl from Dumbledore tonight."

It's just that the magical world doesn't have insurance, otherwise there would definitely be a bunch of wizards committing insurance fraud.

If things get even more ruthless, the professor's relatives could gather all his distant aunts and uncles, unfurl a banner, place a coffin, play music, and have him lie down in front of the school.

No matter how much gold Dumbledore has in his vaults, it won't be enough to cover the losses!

The wizarding world is still so peaceful and simple, almost as peaceful as Gotham City.

"William, I'm curious how you managed to destroy that soul without destroying this crown."

Dumbledore's long fingers traced the rusty crown.

"A Dementor? I found a dying Dementor in France, and seeing that it was all alone, I took it in," William said.

His tone suggested that he had unintentionally picked up a wild Dementor.

Dumbledore gave William a half-smile, glancing at him but ignoring his ambiguity.

Everyone has secrets.

Dumbledore himself had many.

In the words of his brother Aberforth, "That bastard learned to keep secrets on my mother's lap. Secrets and lies, Aberforth... no one knows better than him."

"Professor, there's something else I need to tell you." William's smile gradually faded.

"When the Dementors were devouring that soul, they saw a small amount of Voldemort's memories."

"What did it see?" Dumbledore squinted.

"I asked him about the Horcrux, and it said the diary... Slytherin's ring, Gaunt's Old House!"

"Slytherin's ring...Gauntlet House?" Dumbledore frowned, as if deep in thought.

"Besides the diary and Slytherin's ring, did the Dementors see anything else?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.

William shook his head.

"Voldemort's soul had completely disordered memories; most of them were vague or were about murders."

It only saw the diary and Slytherin's ring.

"It's probably because Voldemort tore souls apart too many times," Dumbledore sighed. "But it's already very good, William. You and Hermione have done an excellent job."

At least we now know the whereabouts of another Horcrux.

Dumbledore stood up and paced slowly around his office.

"Are you free this weekend, William? I think we should make a trip to the Gaunt family mansion."

William thought about it carefully and said, "Saturday morning is probably not an option. There's a Quidditch match against Slytherin."

"Oh, of course! We can go after lunch; the match is very important," Dumbledore said gently.

"I don't want to miss any of the 'Neighborhood Cup' ten-pillar bowls games."

"Neighborhood Cup?"

"The Sunset Red Senior Citizens' Home, where there's a group of elderly wizards," Dumbledore said.

Are you confident about Saturday's game?

You should ask Professor Snape about that.

Since I joined the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, I have maintained a perfect record against them!

I think this will be a remarkable record.

"I will relay your words to Professor Snape," Dumbledore said with a soft laugh.

"Professor, that's not very fair of you. Gryffindor's house grades are at the bottom, there's no need to drag us down with you, is there?" William said helplessly, shrugging his shoulders.

"What? Gryffindor is already at the bottom?" Dumbledore asked, feigning surprise.

"This was simply unimaginable in my time."

Before the two could finish speaking, there was a knock on the door.

William quickly put the crown into the safety bag.

"Please come in," said Dumbledore.

Professor Snape pushed open the door and walked in with a gloomy face.

He suddenly caught sight of William and frowned in surprise. Why was Stark always there whenever he came?

Was it intentional?

Professor Snape glanced at William and said sourly:

"Oh dear, I've come at the wrong time! If I had known he was coming, I wouldn't have come."

"..." Severus Daiyu Snape, is that you?

"How about I head out first? Mr. Big Piece and Ms. Know-It-All weren't here last night, probably busy saving the world, right?" Professor Snape said sarcastically.

"Is it time to report on our work?"

"You found out about this?" William laughed. "This is a Ministry of Magic secret, it can't be told to outsiders, Minister Fudge just instructed me to."

Snape snorted and stopped arguing.

William thought that if Snape became the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, his death would be very simple:

His strange and unpleasant manner led to bronchitis, causing difficulty breathing, and ultimately suffocation and death.

"Severus, what's wrong?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

"My office has been burgled; someone broke in!"

"Did you lose something?"

The veins on Snape's shiny temples throbbed terribly as he roared:

"The potion ingredients in my private storage room are gone... There's no doubt someone's trying to make illegal potions..."

William had to admire the thief's audacity.

The timing was excellent. Professor Snape has been patrolling outside since last night and hasn't had time to check his office at all.

This is truly a great opportunity to make a move.

"Is it Peeves?" Dumbledore asked.

"It wasn't him!" Snape squinted. "I sealed my office with a spell; only a wizard can break in!"

Snape glanced at William.

"You don't doubt me, do you? Although I wasn't in the auditorium last night," William said speechlessly.

"Maybe."

Although Snape said that, he immediately ruled out William.

With his back to the Forbidden Forest, he had the help of centaurs, eight-eyed spiders, and Hagrid to collect the materials.

Now we're essentially raw material suppliers; we have no shortage of all kinds of magical materials.

Of course, the possibility that Stark and Miss Know-It-All might be seeking thrills cannot be ruled out.

"It was probably Weasley who did it," Snape said through gritted teeth.

"He was writing a self-criticism in my office during the dinner last night! He had every opportunity to do so."

William and Dumbledore exchanged a glance.

"Of course, it could also be Blake! Or some professor who's so poor he can't even afford to eat, who helped him steal it!"

The phrase "so poor they can't even afford to eat" undoubtedly refers to Professor Lu Ping.

Professor Trelawney was quite poor, but she was so poor that she couldn't afford sherry for the rest of the month.

"You remember our conversation, Headmaster, right there on the office stairs—oh—at the beginning of the term, right?" Snape said.

"I remember, Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice carrying a warning tone.

"It seems—almost impossible—that Blake won't be able to get into this school without inside help, and my potion ingredients… these are all dangerous signs…"

"I don't believe anyone in this castle would help Black get in. Nor do I believe anyone would steal your things," Dumbledore said.

His tone made it clear that this matter was best left unresolved.

Snape's ashen face turned an ugly brick red, and the vein in his temple throbbed even more vigorously.

William shifted back slightly, afraid that his blood vessels would burst and splatter bat blood all over him.

Snape glared at Dumbledore angrily, turned around and left, slamming the door shut.

This time he learned his lesson and didn't get his hand caught; instead, he shattered the carved glass on the door.

……

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(End of this chapter)