"Children easily become intoxicated by illusions that are real to them. Even after the large-scale witch hunts ended, they still informed on people and enjoyed accusing others in public. Do you remember the story of The Emperor's New Clothes?" the secretary to the Bishop of Venice asked the two uninvited guests in his office inside St. Mark's Basilica.
"You mean the child who said the emperor was naked when no one else dared to?" Snape asked.
"Getting adults' attention makes them happy, especially street children. The last witch executed in Bavaria was in 1756, a girl named Veronica Zelirachin. When she was fourteen, her stepfather threw her out of the house. She joined a gang of children and survived by pickpocketing. Later, a distant relative sent her to an orphanage. By then, she was already very abnormal."
"In what way?" Gianluca asked.
"She stole Communion wafers—not the gold or silver vessels, just the unleavened bread. But the wafers spoiled in her hands..."
"Spoiled, or fermented?" Snape asked.
"No one would eat food she had touched," the secretary said. "I have never seen food desecrated like that."
"Maggots?" Snape asked with a smile, as though it did not disgust him.
"In the 1680s, children could still serve as key witnesses. Some Inquisition witch commissioners even used 'possessed' girls to identify whether suspects were witches, because they claimed witches bore the Devil's mark. They treated children's stories as truth." The secretary laughed absurdly. "Did you take the words of that child who falsely accused your godson seriously, wizard?"
"Do you see a mark on me?" Snape sneered.
"You have evil eyes," the secretary said. "You really are bad at hiding."
"I will not pretend to be a Muggle because I am afraid of being hunted," Snape said. "Go on with the story