Snape only managed to catch a fleeting corner of clothing and the lingering trace of chilling killing intent in the air.
His grip on his wand tightened, his knuckles turning white from the force.
He stared fixedly at the empty corner, his chest roiling with the fury of being toyed with and even deeper suspicion.
Him again! Skofot Leoqi!
This little troll was not provoking him.
He was... hunting?
Testing his limits?
Or simply enjoying this unsettling game of torment?
Snape's expression darkened terrifyingly.
He stood where he was like a frozen statue, with only cold flames burning in those pitch-black eyes.
He did not give chase. It would have been pointless and would only have made him seem impatient.
But he remembered it.
He would remember this debt.
This Leoqi had successfully advanced from "an abnormal student requiring observation" to "a dangerous individual requiring utmost vigilance and a brutal lesson when the opportunity arose."
[Emotion Points +35] (From Snape's suppressed fury, cold killing intent, and intense vigilance after being precisely provoked) [Emotion Points: 675/100]
Fotkai strode swiftly through the dim corridor. Only after he could no longer feel the almost tangible cold gaze behind him did he slow his pace slightly.
The corner of his mouth lifted in an extremely faint, nearly imperceptible cold smile.
The effect was good.
It seemed this Potions Master would be a steady, high-quality source of Emotion Points for quite some time to come.
He just did not know how long this dangerous game could last.
He touched the cold silver needle in his robe pocket and headed toward the entrance to the Slytherin common room.
The Potions classroom was located underground, even colder and gloomier than the Slytherin common room.
The air was thick with the pungent stench of various strange ingredients mixed together, while glass jars containing the organs of unknown animals stood in the corners.
Skofot arrived early and chose the most secluded seat in the back row, where the heavy shadows nearly swallowed him whole.
He sat quietly, with a brand-new copy of Potions and Poisons spread before him, looking like nothing more than an ordinary well-behaved student who had come prepared.
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried into the classroom, Skofot merely lifted his eyes from his book and gave them an indifferent glance,
then lowered his head again, hiding himself in the dim light as though he were entirely unconcerned with everything around him.
The class began. Snape glided through the classroom like a black bat, calling roll in a low voice as smooth as a cello yet filled with oppressive force.
As expected, he paused when he reached Harry's name.
"Potter!" Snape suddenly said. "What would I get if I added powdered asphodel root to an infusion of wormwood?"
"I don't know... sir."
Harry stood up blankly, while Ron beside him looked restless and uneasy.
Hermione's arm was nearly raised to the ceiling.
"Tsk, tsk—apparently fame does not represent everything." Snape curled his lip disdainfully, deliberately ignoring Hermione's raised hand.
"Let us try again. Potter, if I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"
Harry still could not answer, his face flushing bright red.
"Potter, then tell me: what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
The classroom fell silent, save for the faint bubbling of the cauldrons.
Harry stood there in embarrassment, enduring Snape's merciless interrogation and the stares of the entire class.
Snape enjoyed this sense of control, a cold curve on his lips.
Then, at that very moment—
An incomparably violent, pure killing intent carrying the stench of blood and death struck from the back of the classroom without warning like a tangible ice spike, precisely piercing toward Snape's back!
That killing intent was so intense, so cold—it was absolutely not something an eleven-year-old young wizard could possess!
It even surpassed most adult wizards, carrying a kind of... cruelty and indifference forged through mountains of corpses and seas of blood!
Every muscle in Snape's body tensed at once, and his wand nearly slid into his hand instantly.
He whirled around, his hollow black eyes like the sharpest blades, carrying towering fury at the offense and extreme vigilance as they shot toward the source of that killing intent
—the dark corner in the last row of the classroom!
His gaze locked firmly onto Skofot Leoqi.
Yet what he saw was completely at odds with that terrifying killing intent.
The black-haired boy was still sitting quietly in the corner, even holding that copy of Potions and Poisons in his hands.
He seemed startled by Professor Snape's sudden turn and piercing gaze, his face showing obvious confusion and helplessness,
while his eyes appeared especially clear in the dim light. They had even widened slightly at the sudden scrutiny, carrying just the right hint of fear (thanks to the Scavenger card's "Something Is Wrong" debuff, which came with the traits of drawing attention and being easily misunderstood).
He looked... utterly innocent.
As though the terrifying killing intent from a moment ago, enough to rival the Dark Lord's, had merely been Snape's own illusion.
Snape's brows knitted tightly together, his expression shifting uncertainly across his pale face.
He stared intently at Skofot, trying to find even the slightest flaw in that deliberately innocent face—he was certain it was deliberate.
There was none. Nothing at all.
The boy even shrank back instinctively under his glare, as though he had been frightened.
[Emotion Points +50] (From Snape's extreme shock, rage, intense suspicion, and self-doubt) [Emotion Points: 725/100]
"P-Professor?" Skofot spoke softly, his voice trembling slightly. "Is... is there a problem?"
Snape did not answer.
He stared at Skofot for several long seconds, that gaze seeming to dissect him from the inside out.
At last, he abruptly turned back around, his black robes cutting a sharp arc through the air.
He did not continue questioning Harry, but the low pressure radiating from him nearly dropped the temperature of the entire classroom by several degrees.
"Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant! Both of you idiots write that down!"
He barked roughly at Harry and Ron, then began rapidly explaining the steps for the potion they would be brewing that day, speaking so quickly that it was hard to keep up.
The atmosphere in the classroom became even more oppressive.
Harry and Ron felt both relieved and shaken. Hermione looked worriedly at the professor, then cast a puzzled glance at Skofot in the corner,
vaguely sensing that something she could not understand had just happened.
As for Skofot, the instigator, after Snape turned away, he lowered his head again. In the shadows where no one could see, the corner of his mouth curled ever so slightly before quickly smoothing out again.
He continued "obediently" reading his Potions book, as though none of what had just happened had anything to do with him.
Before you continue