"Bellatrix Lestrange... Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Barty Crouch Jr."
In the Potions Class office, Snape furrowed his brow as if recalling for a moment before he recited the names of these Death Eaters, "They were all... caught by the Ministry of Magic after You-Know-Who's downfall and imprisoned in Azkaban, among them..." Snape's expression darkened as he discreetly glanced at the boy trailing behind William with his head bowed—
"Among them, Barty Crouch Jr is already dead, and the remaining three are still serving their sentences in Azkaban—"
William did not respond but turned to look at William behind him. After a long silence, Neville seemed to have just heard Snape's words and nodded.
"Thank you, Professor Snape."
The boy's face showed no expressions, whether of sadness or anger, he simply thanked, "Well then, I'd like to go back now."
"Go, there will be opportunities—"
William nodded and simultaneously motioned to Kabuda sitting on his shoulder to follow Longbottom's steps. Although the possibility was slim, he still had to guard against the boy from running directly to try to storm into Azkaban.
"You shouldn't have done that."
Until the classroom door closed, Snape finally spoke a second sentence with a grim face and a stiff tone.
"What do you mean?"
William blinked and sat down opposite Snape, the smile on his face disappearing, "Like you, a professor bullying a student just because he's clumsy, and you don't like the look of him?" William's tone was very unfriendly, his eyes at Snape were more like looking at a heap of garbage—
"Furthermore, Severus Snape, please watch your tone and manner when speaking to me, if it weren't for Dumbledore still holding hope for you—"
William squinted his eyes, not continuing, but the actual meaning he wanted to convey was never hidden.
Snape is a bad person, an undeniable fact, unrelated to whether he betrayed Voldemort, especially since that was because Voldemort was threatening his 'interests'. This man has never shown any remorse for being a Death Eater and has always only regretted not having recognized, and spoken that 'prophecy' to Voldemort, causing Lily's death—
Just like William once, on the day he captured Peter Pettigrew, pointed at his heart and said those words.
Dumbledore believes Snape is a bad man with goodness still existing in his heart, this elder who believes in 'love' is willing to use time to pull Snape out from the abyss, but in William's eyes, it brings little effect.
Character is hard to change.
He clearly knows his childhood sweetheart, the person he likes, is a 'Mudblood', yet he still went and joined the Death Eaters, it's like—knowing your lover is a Jew and still joining the SS...
Moreover, after Dumbledore has 'pulled' him for ten years, he still acts as an adult, a professor, and bullies a student in class.
Everyone who has gone to school knows that being bullied by classmates and by teachers are two completely different feelings—such a person is unfit to be called a teacher.
So in William's eyes, Snape is a rotten person, if not for Dumbledore valuing and protecting him, his end when facing William apart from being turned into fertilizer would, if luck were good, only be like the rest of those Death Eaters, banished to develop the Third World, of course, life wouldn't be easy—
"...I wasn't talking about that."
Snape paused, even though now only the two of them were left in the room, he still lowered his voice to continue, "You asked me to find a way to get back to Voldemort's side—then you shouldn't be visiting me under such circumstances, Voldemort's spies are at the school, if he discovers..."
"Then you have to sacrifice yourself generously, Severus."
William nodded and wiped away crocodile tears, "I'll take good care of Lily...ah no, Harry." William "misspoke".
"..."
Snape could certainly tell William didn't truly misspeak, he took a deep breath and ignored William's nasty comment, "So, what exactly do you want to do? You already know who Voldemort's undercover at the school is, and you know part of his plan, even... with your strength, you could certainly—"
"Do what?"
"Take preventive measures—but now you are doing nothing!"
"And then? Keep guarding against thieves for a thousand days? Aren't you tired?"
"...What do you mean?"
Snape was confused, he instinctively looked at William, those blue eyes were subtly glowing, in the dimly lit underground office, the man felt like he was staring at a demon.
"Obviously, taking preventive measures is necessary, but more importantly, is to eradicate the root—Voldemort has lingered long enough, long enough that he truly deserves to die." William continued, his tone calm yet cold, "Now Tom, before he reaches a hundred percent chance of winning, won't make an all-out gamble—"
"...What will you do?"
Snape swallowed, yet at this moment his throat felt unexpectedly dry.
"It's not about what I will do, but how—"
William curled his lips, "You don't need to know that much, Severus, I know you're very good at Occlumency, then, please continue to utilize your specialty—"
Snape suddenly felt a fear, perhaps because of the last sentence William said before leaving—
"Don't, don't let me down..."
...
During the first week of the break, the little wizards were all busy playing, but now, they had to think about their homework.
Christmas was over, and many people seemed to have calmed down again—but not Harry, who (apparently, once again) started to feel a little nervous.
Hagrid's hut was crowded.
"Still no pigs around, Hermione?"
"No, Harry! This is the thirteenth time you've asked me in the past hour. If you really want to... please shut up, thank you."
"...Alright."
Harry sighed, closed his mouth for the twelfth time, but would probably forget about it in less than five minutes.
The trouble was, once Christmas passed, January 7th seemed much closer. No matter how much Harry hypnotized himself, this was already an urgent matter. "Maybe we should think of a way, Cedric. Just sitting here waiting is like slow suicide—"
The boy turned to look at Cedric, who was sitting under the window of Hagrid's hut, studying another slate.
"Yes, Harry, I feel the same way—so, what do you think about this plan?"
"Let's hear it."
Harry perked up.
"What if we unite with the other seven champions to eliminate William... Great, don't look at me like that... alright, I know it sounds stupid, but we have to try. Hey, maybe the purpose of this event set by William is to make us unite, maybe only when we stand together he will admit defeat—"
"Stop with the crazy talk, okay?" Harry shook his head in disappointment, "Pray to defeat William Richard with friendship and bonds? We'll probably just get kicked to death, won't we?"
"Alright then, what do you think we should do?"
"...Figure out the secret of that slate?"
"You know that too? Then why are you asking me? You think I have a lot of time?" Cedric asked, not too kindly.
"...Okay, my bad."
Harry raised his hands in surrender, but again, he didn't stay quiet for long before turning his attention to Neville, who was tending to his plants, "Hey, Neville, want to practice?" Then he turned to Hagrid, who was staring blankly at the three-headed Fluffy, "Just right, Hagrid could be our referee—right, Hagrid?"
"..."
"Hey, Hagrid? Hagrid?"
"...Huh?"
It wasn't until Harry called for the fourth time that Hagrid seemed to react. He blinked his swollen eyes, looking a bit dazed at Harry, "What is it, what is it?"
"...Shouldn't we be asking you, what's wrong?"
Harry frowned, sitting cross-legged, "You've been absent-minded since just now, and... are you sad? Why?"
"...It's nothing, Harry."
Hagrid took a deep breath, shaking his head, "Alright, what were you saying just now?"
"..."
Seeing Hagrid's constant denial, Harry paused, not pressing further, "I want to ask you to be the referee. I plan to spar with Neville... Right, Neville, are you up for it?" Harry paused, because Neville had been acting a bit off since the day before yesterday, if he wasn't interested—
Harry looked at the sleepy-faced Ron—then the "good brother" would have to endure some skin-deep pain.
"Of course... no problem, let's go outside."
Neville was silent for a moment, his tone calm as he nodded.
"..."
This time it was Harry's turn to hesitate, feeling that Neville's calmness seemed a bit unusual, but... it should just be an illusion, right? After hesitating for a moment, Harry still pushed the slightly chilling feeling from his spine aside, and the three of them, along with Ron, left the hut.
By the Black Lake, the snow had not yet melted, but small patches of green grass had poked their heads through the snow. The pale sun hung on the horizon, almost merging with the pale sky.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
It was apparently Hagrid's first time acting as a referee, and he nervously clutched his unusually thin magic wand in his large hands—ever since being declared innocent the year before last, he could legally own a magic wand again, so he had it for a while now, though Hagrid rarely used it—
Decades of habit, he actually trusted his crossbow more than the wand in his hand.
"Yes."
Harry raised his magic wand, bowing to Neville, then suddenly, his legs were tightly bound by green vines.
"Eh? Wai..." Harry's eyes widened.