94 Diagon Alley - Chapter 277

    Life force, he needs time, and a lot of self-made advanced potions.

    Spider End Alley is very dangerous, because not only members of the Old Order of the Phoenix, but also many reporters plan to try their luck at that house. Hogwarts is a good choice, the students are on vacation, and as long as he avoids the vain old guy from Slughorn, he can easily get his treasure back.

    It seems that the professors have put a lot of effort into rebuilding Hogwarts after the war. Snape, who was at one with the darkness, pouted and looked up and down the castle in the tightly wrapped cloak. What makes him even more happy is that the bald old man as fat as a walrus is not at school, and he has enough time to save his babies.

    It wasn’t until Snape stepped out of his private storage room with a modest suitcase that he met the last person he wanted to see.

    “Good evening, Severus. If I remember correctly, Dr. Spencer is giving you a good rest.”

    “…Okay, Dumbledore.” Snape wiggled his lips and said hello. “I’m here to get my own things back.”

    “It’s not necessary.” Dumbledore waved his hand, and the suitcase strayed to the ground.

    “Why are you still here?” Snape crossed his arms, his feelings for the great white wizard in front of him still complicated. He hated his ruthless plans and was forced to owe him a favor because of Fox’s tears. “I heard that you are no longer the principal.”

    “Yeah,” said Dumbledore a little sadly, “I’m too old to eat two puddings at a time.”

     Snape bent over to pick up the suitcase, feeling that he was wasting his precious life by engaging in such frivolous discussions in the middle of the night.

    “Unlike me, I think you should stay, Severus.” Dumbledore said, “Professor Slughorn officially proposed to retire last week, and this time I will not You can’t force him.”

    “So are you going to force me?” Snape sneered.

    “On the contrary, I’m offering you a good solution.” Dumbledore rolled his eyes, “Slytherin needs an upright dean—”

    “Humph.” Snape laughed unabashedly.

    “—and the Potions Professor.” Dumbledore didn’t mind his rudeness, and continued, “And you need a place to live in isolation. I assure you, Severus , no one will disturb you until school starts in September.”

    “I’ve had enough,” Snape said. “You know I’ve never enjoyed this job a day.”

    “We obviously have different opinions on this.” Dumbledore said cheerfully, “I have the impression that the Slytherin children like you very much.”

    This sentence greatly offended the gloomy man, who squeezed vicious words from his teeth, “After I betrayed their faith?”

    “After you made the right decision and sacrifice.” The white-bearded old principal yawned, “Forgive me, I’m so sleepy, I didn’t expect you to be like this Sudden visit at a late hour—think it over carefully, Severus. You’ll be alone for several months before agreeing to my offer.”

    Too outrageous. Snape cursed silently. Dumbledore expects me to promise him a place in Potions after rejecting my Defence Against the Dark Arts position over and over again? Teaching those stupid, arrogant students?

    For the most part, Severus Snape was far less aware of himself than the wise Dumbledore. Because he realized that in the first half of his nearly 40-year life, he didn’t have a place to choose.

    Snape thought the world sucked.

    So on the day before the start of school, with a dark face, he reluctantly came to the familiar principal’s office and accepted a job in Potions.

    “You’re procrastinating until the last day.” Professor McGonagall said resentfully, “What are you waiting for? Severus, you know what to prepare before the semester starts, the professors are busy .”

    “I have some conditions.” Snape raised his chin and took out a piece of parchment from his pocket.

    Professor McGonagall’s eyes came through the spectacles, she pursed her lips, and quickly read the overly long list.

    “I won’t point fingers at what you teach,” said the new principal, “but I can’t stop the students from being curious about you.”

    “As noted in item 3, item 7, if a student asks for information unrelated to my subject at all times during or after class, I have the right to ‘reasonably’ punishment,” Snape said slowly.

    “Inspired by Umbridge?” Professor McGonagall frowned.

    “Inspired by one of the few good decisions at the Ministry of Magic.” Snape still held his chin up hard.

    “I have some concerns about ‘reasonableness.'”

    “Don’t worry, Minerva.” The new professor put on a penetrating smile, “I’ve been teaching at Hogwarts for seventeen years.”

    Snape had to admit that most of the freshmen were relatively well-behaved because of his horrific appearance. The hard part was the cheeky old fritters – especially the Gryffindor students – and the nasty, have to go back to school Granger and Weasley. If possible, Snape would not have any communication with them.

    Potter is not an eyesore, this year’s Quidditch House Cup is finally going to his office.

    Who can tell him, since Voldemort is dead, why hasn’t the Order of the Phoenix been dissolved?

    It was the Ministry of Magic’s job to clean up the remnants of the Death Eaters, and in his view the weekly Order of the Phoenix meeting was a group of wizards with low self-control, indulging themselves under high-sounding pretexts party.

    When will the people of the British Isles give up alcohol and bingeing? For the sake of the Dark Lord’s disappearing nose, it’s been a year and a half since the war was won.

    Fortunately, because he is Snape, he can always refuse all activities, including this Hogwarts Christmas dinner, for no reason and no face. He’d prefer to hide in a familiar dungeon and experiment – he’d just come up with a brilliant formula to make the wolf’s poison potion harder to drink – to enhance the potency a bit by the way.

    Let the other bad professors deal with the foolish students, Snape thought, where have I put the pure gold medicine spoon?

    His peripheral vision swept to the delicate medicine spoon not far from his left hand, and just as soon as his index finger touched, a feeling of dizziness appeared. Snape quickly understood what was going on.

    He swore under his breath as he tried to get away from it all, and vowed never to let any Hogwarts elf step into his domain.

    “Here he is!”

    “Listen to me, we have to push someone out to take his wrath—”

    “—don’t even think about it, Fred.”

    “Stop it, lads!” Mrs. Weasley’s voice came, and she patted Snape’s back enthusiastically (this action seemed a little unnatural), “Good afternoon , Severus, we heard you won’t be at school for Christmas this year.”

    “I never said I wasn’t in the castle for Christmas,” Snape said in a low, dangerous voice, “or you wouldn’t have put a **** door on my desk The key—as a trap.”

    “Thanks to Dobby.” Mr. Weasley poked his head from behind a copy of The Quibbler, greeted him friendly, and turned to his twin sons , “We’ll have to think of other ways next year, and he’s obviously already wary.”

    “Sit down, Severus.” Molly Weasley involuntarily pressed him to the end of the dining table, which gave Snape an even more ominous premonition. “It’s a pity that Sirius and Lupin didn’t come this year.”

    This is the best news of the year, Snape was relieved, ready to slip away before they noticed.

    “Are you going to wear black even for Christmas?” Ollivander came over with a big belly, “but it’s nice to meet you, professor.”

    Snape didn’t want to talk to her at all, all his attention was now on rushing out of the house and Apparating anywhere—he hated loud festivals.

    “Honey, when are they coming?” As if the scene wasn’t lively enough, George Weasley decided to add to the fire.

    “Harry and Ginny will be late, Ron and Hermione—I think they’re here.” Gwen said, glancing at the Burrow’s fireplace from a distance.

    Snape regretted it, and he even felt more comfortable attending Malfoy’s dinner than he did now. Although he and Lucius were still a little embarrassed, they concealed their positions from each other under Voldemort’s hands, but they tacitly betrayed their old master.

    “Merlin’s snuff bottle, you did it!” said Ron Weasley, fussing, “Hermione, they kidnapped Snape.”

    If there’s one thing Snape’s friend of the Savior deserves to be praised for, Snape thinks it should be his ability to describe it accurately – couldn’t all those present see that he was forced to sit here?

    “Don’t bother, Professor.” Percy Weasley said, pushing his glasses slightly sympathetically, “They’ve got a dozen or so plans to make sure you’re able to finish your meal honestly. dinner.”

    “You wouldn’t want to ruin Christmas at the Weasleys, would you?” Granger asked boldly.

    Damn, he’s planning to knock everyone out – or drug their tea – and get away.

    Snape seriously reviewed the first half of his life, thinking about what heinous crime had done, so that Merlin wanted to give him such punishment and tempering.

    “I will never allow you to name him Fred.” Fred shouted.

    “Why? It shows my love for you, brother.” George said with a grin.

    “If you dare