"Very good..." A smile appeared on Voldemort's face, and his tone held a measure of satisfaction. "Severus, you truly are outstanding."
"I thought that after teaching at Hogwarts for so long, the talent I admired would have been worn away by that decaying castle."
"Now it seems my worries were unnecessary. Your magical ability hasn't stagnated. It has even improved."
"Tell me, then!" His voice turned subtle. "Was I mistaken back then, or... is there some other hidden reason?"
"My master!" Snape immediately dropped to his knees. "I never dared allow myself the slightest slackness, because I always believed... you would return!"
Herpo remained lounging lazily, his gaze falling on Snape.
Compared with Barty Crouch Jr., he knew far less about Severus Snape.
For some reason, from Severus Snape, he sensed the same kind of wrongness as he did from Voldemort—something that did not belong to this world.
It was as if Severus Snape, too, had been smeared with "glue that did not exist in this world."
He had considered one possibility: that anyone who became Voldemort's servant would develop this strange trait.
Yet the odd thing was that he did not feel the slightest trace of that wrongness from Barty Crouch Jr.
Still, in his view, the Death Eaters around Voldemort either carried this eerie wrongness on them, or their fanatical worship of Voldemort itself seemed especially abnormal.
In short, none of them were very normal.
"Your loyalty... is truly pleasing, Severus." Voldemort nodded. "I almost seem able to feel it."
"But there is one more thing I'm very curious about. You seem to have adapted quite well to the identity of 'professor,' even... to enjoy it somewhat, to take pleasure in it?"
"My master!" Snape's voice was decisive, without the slightest hesitation. "Any task you bestow upon me,