At the moment the protective shield shattered, time seemed to freeze for an instant.
Brilliant silver fragments fell like the collapse of the sky, like the advent of the apocalypse. In the next moment, the crimson army in the direction of the Forbidden Forest let out a thunderous roar mixed with fury. Without the outer barrier, the nauseating wave of blood and beastly stench slammed into the courtyard of Hogwarts —
Making the faces of many students and professors at the forefront turn pale against their will.
"The sky... is falling?"
"How is that possible? That was maintained by the professors together…"
Panic-filled whispers spread rapidly among the students. The morale, which had just been boosted by the arrival of reinforcements, showed signs of wavering.
"Stay calm!!"
At this moment, Professor McGonagall's voice rose above the commotion, her face taut, magic wand pointing straight to the sky. A dazzling red spark shot up, exploding into a giant Gryffindor griffin pattern — this was the pre-agreed emergency assembly and defense signal.
"Everyone, retreat towards the Great Hall, form defensive formations as practiced before! Quick!"
Originally at the forefront maintaining the formation, Professor Flitwick had already retreated, hovering above everyone, sharply directing while continuously casting Iron Armor Spells and Impediment Jinxes. Charms were flung towards every entrance of the courtyard as if they cost nothing —
Of course, the arrival of reinforcements couldn't have been without any effect; seemingly limitless Magic Patterned Stone Statues continued to march out from the portal, shielding the lakeside of the Black Lake. Accompanied by the constantly roaming Armored Werewolf Corps, goblins and trolls reaching the courtyard were still scarce.
But scarce ≠ zero, especially with such a large base number.
Soon, a one-armed goblin holding a crossbow jumped onto the railing, eyeing a sixth-year little wizard who had lost his way in panic due to the shattered protective shield, trying to wield his magic wand but failing to cast any damaging charm out of fear. The goblin grinned, revealing a mouthful of broken yellow teeth and a flexible tongue, nocking an arrow...
Just as the boy thought he was about to become the first casualty of the battle, suddenly, a billowing black robe appeared by his side.
"...Get to the back, Sutton, that wolf is stupid enough to let you join the advanced class of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Snape's figure appeared like a phantom, and as he waved his magic wand, the goblin's tongue was violently yanked out of its mouth by a force, then wrapped around its neck and tied into a tight knot. The words that emerged from his mouth were still sharp, and of course, it might have something to do with the red scarf wrapped around the little wizard's neck.
Used to being targeted, the Gryffindor student hurriedly got up and retreated, but before reaching the corner, he paused, glanced back —
"Thank you for saving me, Professor Snape," he seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing, "I'll never call you Bat Spirit again…"
"Get out!"
"Got it!"
By the time Snape calmed his mood and turned back, he found several short creatures wielding war axes crawling up to where the goblin had hung itself with its own tongue. These ferocious-looking ones snarled at Snape as if in a demonstration, turning his already unpleasant complexion even darker.
"This is just endless—"
He waved his magic wand, red flames erupted from the tip, forming a large, proud-headed snake in front of him. It opened its mouth, and after a silent roar, slithered towards the goblins — Severus Snape, from an objective and fair perspective, was probably one of the few at the top of the Hogwarts Castle in terms of combat power.
As a former aide of the Dark Lord, on another timeline, he had even caused Voldemort to hesitate on whether to kill him for control of the Elder Wand, Snape's combat ability and experience were undoubtedly exceptional — but after all, two fists are no match for many hands.
Especially when, unknowingly, the hands around Snape were far more than two...
Seeing the numerous goblins blocking his retreat, and the dozens in front of him, Snape's gloomy complexion turned utterly dark. He had foolishly placed himself in such peril; even if he hadn't gone to save the boy earlier… Snape sighed, stopping the thought.
He knew, if it was twenty years ago, he might have really turned a blind eye, but now, even if faced with known adversity, he would still choose to intervene, perhaps just notifying Minerva in advance, but the situation was urgent then, probably wouldn't have had time…
… When did he become a "good person"?
Watching the red ax grazing past his hair, Snape rarely fell into thought — ever since Voldemort's complete demise, he had seldom used that organ. On the night the man who changed his life died, he felt his life shifted once again —
Snape believed he lived due to hatred. Before that, perhaps it was love or other chaotic emotions, but after Lily died, he clearly knew, the only emotion sustaining his survival was the hatred for Voldemort —
Because Dumbledore said he would return, because Dumbledore said he would target Lily's child, because Dumbledore said wanting to protect Harry meant he couldn't selfishly die…
Thus, Snape lived until now.
On the night a year ago, when he awoke on the hard soil of the graveyard, looking at William and Dumbledore discussing something with their backs to the dawn, watching the armor dusting off with Harry nearby, glancing at the Death Eater corpses around, Snape cried.
He made no sound, simply turned his head to the ground and shed tears —
His great revenge was fulfilled.
Harry survived, no more vipers lurking in the shadows threatening his life. Hence, that summer, he resigned to Dumbledore, expressing his desire to see the world, but the application was unsurprisingly rejected, Dumbledore kept him to oversee Harry's growth.
…If not for that annoying guy joining the professor team, he would have been happy.
But a year passed, Snape found no "meaning," he had become like someone unbound, having no other interests apart from deducting points from Gryffindor, life seemed to have lost everything —
Perhaps, this was his end?
Seeing the shattered and dissipating red aura in the air around, but even more goblins gathering despite the killings, gazing at those ferocious faces, having exhausted his magic power to the point even his arms were weakened, Snape suddenly lowered his still waving right hand, closed his eyes, no longer watching the axe directly striking towards his face —