The teachers around them stared at Snape in surprise, their questioning gazes sweeping over the Slytherin Head of House.
The suspicion in their eyes was as though someone had secretly plucked one of Snape's greasy hairs and then used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate him.
"That's really disgusting," they thought maliciously.
However, it was clear that unless Snape himself was willing, no one in the school could easily subdue him and take his place.
Snape, who had always kept to himself, had surprisingly given them gifts.
"Filius, this is for you."
Snape pulled another beautifully wrapped box from his sleeve and handed it to Flitwick.
The teachers speculated that Snape was in a good mood after obtaining his new position.
It was rare for him to show any desire to maintain relationships with his colleagues.
"But, Severus… we should…"
Professor McGonagall looked troubled.
An awkward fact suddenly came to the forefront.
None of them had prepared return gifts in advance.
Why would a loner who had never bothered maintaining relationships and had not exchanged Christmas gifts with anyone in the past few years suddenly give them presents?
"Next time will be better."
Snape spoke understandingly.
Professor McGonagall was somewhat moved.
Perhaps the approaching war had changed his temperament.
Inside the box was an unnamed plant resting quietly in a cup.
Its fan-shaped leaves were a clear emerald green, decorated with naturally formed cloud-like patterns.
The entire plant was submerged in water, its leaves stretching out comfortably while its roots clung tightly to the walls and bottom of the cup.
As an ornamental plant, it would have been an excellent addition to an office, both pleasing to the eye and aesthetically appealing.
"Severus, is this a Spirit Herb?"
Slughorn happened to walk past the table with a cup of coffee.
"Right? I remember it's good for restoring your energy."
"Yes, Professor Slughorn."
Snape nodded slightly.
"It's incredibly rare to find one in such good condition."
Slughorn reluctantly tore his gaze away from it.
A faint smile suddenly appeared on Snape's sallow face.
Yet in his deep eyes, there was none of the emotion one might have expected.
And that was somehow even more unsettling.
After a brief preparation, the Head of House left the school with the students.
A small number of people who needed to leave Hogwarts also boarded the train.
Symbolic steam billowed from the chimney.
A hiss sounded.
The Hogwarts Express began to move.
Despite the turbulent situation, a small number of students still chose to leave the school, and students occasionally passed through the corridor outside the compartments.
Beyond the windows, the earth was covered in vast expanses of snow.
Silver-white snow blanketed the rolling mountains.
If one became too absorbed in the snowy landscape and stared at it for too long, their eyes would eventually grow tired, perhaps even leading to dizziness or snow blindness.
Meanwhile, one of the compartments on the express was filled with a silent atmosphere.
"This really isn't like you, Headmaster."
Malfoy suddenly spoke.
He was sitting opposite Snape.
Snape had already returned to his usual indifferent expression.
His black eyes resembled calm whirlpools hidden deep within the ocean, ready to devour any ship unfortunate enough to fall into their grasp.
Malfoy, however, met his gaze without flinching.
"Just a parting gift."
Snape's expression was unreadable.
The rare politeness and courtesy he had displayed earlier had vanished without a trace.
"When we meet the Dark Lord later, I'll help you gain some credit. You only need to follow along and agree."
He suddenly spoke again.
"This is my promise to your mother."
"I suppose it has something to do with the gift earlier. Poor old lady."
A faint smile appeared on Malfoy's lips.
"I knew it was hard to imagine you doing something like this."
Malfoy chuckled and stopped talking.
Instead, he raised the magazine in front of him.
A few crooked words were printed on the cover:
The Quibbler.
This kind of informal magazine was perfect for killing time.
The two had the same ultimate destination.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters arrived.
The two got off the train and walked into a secluded alley not far away.
"You've already erased all traces of yourself?"
Snape looked Malfoy over.
His tone sounded like a question, but in reality, he was stating a fact.
"Yes. It's just an invisible cage."
Malfoy did not shy away from the truth.
In any case, the Ministry of Magic was now practically useless.
Moreover, it was completely under Voldemort's control.
If murder could no longer be considered a sin, then what about erasing every trace of one's existence?
"Then we can go."
Snape glanced towards the entrance of the alley.
"I believe you're skilled at Apparition."
In reality, taking the train was merely a formality.
Without considering magical power, Apparition was indeed the fastest method.
Of course, that was assuming one was skilled enough not to be Splinched.
Two figures suddenly emerged from the shadows beneath the street.
Their shadows stretched long beneath the moonlight, as though they had always been hiding against the wall.
The two quickly followed a path overgrown with weeds and poorly maintained.
Then they pushed open the door.
A blast of cold air struck them.
The once-typical European-style interior had been completely altered.
Even the chandelier hanging in the centre was unlit, creating a gloomy atmosphere.
The only source of light came from a marble fireplace against one wall.
Its fiery-red flames brought warmth and illumination to the room.
"Severus, I thought something had happened to you on the way."
Voldemort casually glanced at the two of them with his scarlet eyes.
"You seem to be a little late."
They had only just pushed open the door and entered.
Almost all the furniture had been removed, leaving only a long walnut table stretching from the doorway all the way to the space in front of Voldemort.
In an instant, the long table was filled with all kinds of human and non-human beings.
The exquisite dishes on the table seemed to be nothing more than decorations.
Everyone had their own preferences.
A Werewolf held a beating, mangled heart in its claws.
It slowly brought it to its lips and gnawed on it with satisfaction, its sharp, foul-smelling fangs exposed in a cruel smile.
A pale-faced man bared his fangs and raised a glass filled with a dark-red liquid.
The bloody smell and viscous consistency made it look nothing like red wine—or tomato juice.
It was as though a lively party were taking place.
Perhaps several more troublesome Aurors had died.
Perhaps they had conquered several more territories.
Or perhaps it was simply for entertainment.
"And Draco."
The Dark Lord sat at the head of the long table.
"I imagine your school life has been quite exciting, hasn't it?"
He stroked his wand again.
His manner almost resembled someone spending time with his lover.
This wand had not resisted him for a long time.
Although he could say that he had become quite adept at using it, he was still only a hair's breadth away from completely mastering it.
This made him even more eager for his battle against Grindelwald.
If he subdued Grindelwald, he could force him to reveal the true secret of the Elder Wand.
"Yes, Master."
Malfoy answered respectfully.
"Come. You two, sit beside me."
Voldemort waved his hand as though he were granting them the greatest honour.
Everyone suddenly stopped eating.
Strange, cautious, and envious gazes fell upon the two of them.
Then everyone waited for them to sit down.
Malfoy controlled his pace, trying to keep his movements steady.
Then he suddenly gasped.
He saw Nagini.
Half of the giant serpent's body was wrapped around the corner of the table.
The enormous python possessed a flexible yet powerful body.
Its slippery scales made it extremely resistant to physical attacks from ordinary swords and blades, and in most cases, it was also immune to ordinary magic.
The rare sight of Voldemort's pet seemed like a golden opportunity.
Gryffindor's sword was currently hidden in the pocket where he had cast an Undetectable Extension Charm.
With a casual movement, the sword coated in Basilisk venom could appear in his hand.
But killing Voldemort alone, directly beneath the nose of the Dark Lord, was nothing short of a pipe dream.
He could not guarantee that he could aim properly.
He could not guarantee that, even if he succeeded in killing him, he would be able to escape alive.
Nagini was also extremely fast and agile.
Any one of these problems could be manageable individually.
But there were too many Death Eaters here.
Voldemort's "territory" had expanded, and as his influence grew, there would always be restless individuals drawn to him.
They were natural rebels, people with an innate love of chaos or hatred of rules.
One generation of Azkaban prisoners had died, but countless criminals and potential criminals from all over the world had flocked to Voldemort.
He could not take the risk.
"Let me think about it."
Voldemort spoke slowly.
"Your career as an undercover agent may have come to an end here, Severus. Is that so?"
Voldemort's snake-like eyes narrowed slightly.
His almost bloodless lips moved several times before he pointed towards his forehead with feigned distress.
"Slughorn is troublesome."
Snape began explaining.
"His skill in brewing Potions is only slightly inferior to mine."
"All known ingredients for lethal potions are strictly regulated, and the timing of their effects is difficult to control…"
"Draco also helped me a great deal throughout the process."
"Not bad."
Voldemort looked approvingly at Malfoy.
"Much better than your useless father."
"My father…"
Malfoy immediately wanted to ask, but hesitated.
He appeared uneasy.
"He went to do what he was supposed to do."
"I will show the greatest possible leniency towards subordinates who may not be capable, but are at least passable."
"He should thank his son."
"We should be grateful for our Master's kindness."
Malfoy spoke somewhat nervously.
"Two spies are a little wasteful, Draco."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
"I know you can handle this mission on your own, right?"
"Yes, Master."
With just a few words, Malfoy had completely confirmed his guess.
Snape had done something.
And he had paid a price for it.
But paying that price would surely bring some reward.
The potion he had mentioned earlier seemed to make that obvious.
Hogwarts would undergo many changes in the future.
It was foreseeable that Voldemort would want to intimidate those who had not yet completely submitted to him.
The banquet ended.
The professors and students left the reception room and went into the courtyard.
The courtyard was desolate and bleak.
Vines clung to the walls, neglected yet possessing a unique vitality that symbolised nature.
Bright moonlight, like a veil, covered the entire courtyard.
Two dark shadows were stretched long across the ground by the moonlight.
"This is the final period."
"Even if I'm not around, you don't need to pursue any intelligence."
"Even if it's false information, the Dark Lord won't be too harsh on you."
"Hogwarts will soon become unsafe."
"I'd like to ask you something."
Malfoy spoke without making a sound, moving only his lips.
"Which side are you on?"
"I'm on my own side."
Snape's answer was ambiguous.
"I promised your mother that I would ensure your safety."
"Beyond that, I'm free to do whatever I want."
"You're not going back, are you?"
Malfoy suddenly asked.
"Going back to walk straight into a trap?"
Snape dismissed the idea with a cold tone.
Suddenly, clouds and mist obscured the bright moon on the horizon.
The entire sky darkened abruptly.
It seemed to foreshadow a future shrouded in mystery and unpredictability.