Seeing that Barty's face still held a confused expression, Snape waved his wand and sighed heavily, his voice filled with admiration and understanding: "Ah, every time I see you, I'm reminded of my past self."
"During Walpurgis, you always quietly stayed to the side, just like I used to, shrinking into a corner."
"But you haven't been to any meetings in a long time," Barty said, lowering his voice. "They all say you betrayed us, didn't they?"
"No, they betrayed me," Snape said mockingly. "I used to be like a true believer, hoping to gain recognition there and find a sense of belonging. But after a long time, I realized that to them, I was just a dispensable servant."
"What does that prove?" Barty sneered, dismissively. "We have to wait until after graduation to formally join..."
"Do you really think so?" Snape's gaze subtly flickered to Barty's left arm. "Mulciber clearly doesn't think so, even though he's currently rotting away in Azkaban."
Barty let out a soft scoff.
"Do you know?" Snape leaned closer, looking into Barty's eyes. "We have a lot in common. For example, we both have very disappointing fathers... extremely disappointing..."
"Oh, really?" Barty's lips twisted into a sarcastic smile. "My father isn't a Muggle."
"Yes, yes," Snape clapped his hands exaggeratedly. "The famous Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—Mr. Barty Crouch. Who wouldn't know him?"
"But at school, you never mentioned him, as if he didn't exist."
A flicker of disgust crossed Barty's face, as if an old wound had been exposed. Snape suddenly stood up and plopped down onto Barty's hospital bed. They were so close they could almost hear each other's breathing. Snape stared directly into Barty's eyes, his voice low:
"All this time, even though we've both pretended our fathers don't exist, in a way, I'm even a little envious of you. At least your father isn't a complete bastard."
"He's not much better..." Barty mumbled softly, his tone seemingly wavering slightly.
"Do you think he loves you?" Snape suddenly asked.
---
Barty's body stiffened. After a long moment, he slowly shook his head, saying nothing.
"My father didn't love me either; he didn't even love my mother," Snape said in a low voice. "I hate him."
Barty's pupils instantly dilated.
"So," Snape's face hardened, "I made him lose the thing he cared about most."
"What was that?" Barty asked, unable to hide his curiosity. He seemed very interested in the answer to this question.
"He was a frustrated, ill-tempered Muggle," Snape didn't directly answer Barty's question. "He didn't care about anyone; he only cared about himself."
"When I came back to school this time..." Snape deliberately paused for a moment before continuing, "I could see the Thestrals in front of the school carriages..."
"Are you saying..." Barty propped himself up with both hands in shock, muttering, "Professor Kettleburn said in class that only those who have seen death can see Thestrals..."
"No, your guess is wrong," Snape looked at Barty meaningfully. "One more question for you: Do you think your mother loves you?"
Without hesitation, Barty nodded.
"You know, we have one most crucial thing in common," Snape said earnestly. "And that is, we both have mothers who love us."
Snape gently patted Barty's shoulder and said softly, "Barty, I'm not joking with you; we really are quite similar."
"Those Walpurgis people, the Death Eaters, and even the Dark Lord himself, they won't truly understand you or me. We are truly the same kind of people."
"I am willing, and I can help you," Snape said, extending his right hand to Barty. "Help you take away the thing your father cares about most, and ensure your mother can continue to love you. Are you willing?"
Barty stared at the hand, silent for a long while. Finally, he slowly extended his own right hand and clasped Snape's.
"When you've fully recovered, if the time is right, I'll share my story with you, Barty," Snape released Barty's hand.
---
When he left the Hospital Wing, the sky was already bright, and sunlight poured into the corridor. Snape rubbed his sore eyes, planning to head to the Great Hall for some food before returning to his dormitory for a good, comfortable sleep.
Along the way, he had expected his "spectacular performance" in the duelling competition to make his classmates avoid him like the plague. But surprisingly, several students nodded and greeted him kindly as they passed by, something that had never happened before.
As he walked through the Entrance Hall, looking rather puzzled, a tall Ravenclaw sixth-year boy quickly approached him and invited him to breakfast.
"You were brilliant, Severus," Bertram Aubrey enthusiastically handed Snape a cup of hot pumpkin juice. "That duelling match the other day, it was truly exhilarating to watch! You should have seen Potter's bare backside..."
"Ah, thank you, Bertram." Bertram's enthusiasm was a bit much, making Snape feel a little unaccustomed to it. "I'm just glad I didn't scare any of you."
"I should be the one thanking you!" Bertram grinned happily. "To be honest, I was a bit scared at the time. But then I thought about it carefully, and you didn't strip anyone else's robes, did you?"
He lowered his voice, his tone full of satisfaction: "You know what? Potter hasn't been to class these past two days; it's just wonderful. Really, if I weren't so outmatched by them, I would have done something myself."
"And Black, what did you say to him? The look on his face when he conceded..."
"What did they do to you?" Snape raised an eyebrow, starting to understand Bertram's reaction.
Bertram angrily slammed the table, his face reddening: "Just because I was paired with Lily Evans in Divination class, after class, Potter and Black actually ambushed me in the corridor, saying I was overestimating myself, dreaming nonsense, and cast a nasty curse on me!"
He gesticulated wildly, speaking excitedly: "That curse made my head swell to twice its normal size, and I was in the Hospital Wing for two whole weeks! My head hurt so much during that time, I could barely stand it..."
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