Unable to Sleep, He Went to Talk to a Professor

The moment Skofot stepped into the castle's cold entrance hall, his footsteps abruptly halted.

An exceedingly faint magical fluctuation, like spider silk winding around him and carrying a clear intent to probe, was keenly detected by him.

—This was thanks to the innate vigilance against mental intrusion granted by the Legilimency he had just permanently mastered, as well as the lingering sensory abilities of the Scavenger Card, which had yet to fully fade.

[System Notice: Foreign magical mark detected. Analyzing... Confirmed as a Tracking Charm. Caster: Severus Snape.]

A Tracking Charm?

Skofot's gaze instantly darkened, like frozen ice.

Sure enough, the matter of that flower last night had thoroughly enraged the Potions Master. His retaliation had come swiftly and discreetly.

If he had not happened to master Legilimency, he likely would never have noticed it at all.

He stood where he was, thinking rapidly. A direct confrontation was clearly unwise; Snape's strength and status both far surpassed his own.

But waiting helplessly and allowing the surveillance to continue was even less acceptable.

An idea flashed through his mind. He immediately muttered inwardly, "Remove the [Scavenger] Card."

The unpleasantly cold aura around him and that "off-putting" feeling receded like the tide, making him feel much lighter, though it also felt as if he had lost an invisible layer of armor.

Without hesitation, he turned and headed toward the dungeons.

His pace was neither hurried nor slow, but his purpose was unmistakable.

Near the entrance to the Slytherin common room, at a relatively secluded and dimly lit corner of the corridor, he stopped.

This was a route Snape had to take when returning from the upper levels of the castle to his dungeon office.

He leaned against the icy stone wall and slowly slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his drawn-up knees and burying his face deeply in the crook of his arms.

At the same time, he issued a command in his mind: "Equip the [Rabbit Rhymer] Card."

A familiar wave of weakness instantly swept through his body, draining away his strength. Yet at the same time, that fragile, pity-inducing air settled over him once more.

He adjusted his breathing and made his shoulders tremble slightly, like a wronged child with nowhere to go.

Time passed little by little, and the dungeon's chill seeped through his robes.

Curfew had long since passed. The corridor was silent, with only the occasional faint crackle of the wall torches burning.

After an unknown amount of time, a steady, somewhat dragging set of footsteps finally approached from afar, breaking the silence.

Snape's tall figure, wrapped in black robes, appeared at the end of the corridor.

His face bore its usual gloom and fatigue, as though he had just finished another round of patrols or some other business.

At a glance, he spotted the small figure curled up in the shadows by the wall—

—That little troll who had cost him so much thought, whom he wanted nothing more than to drag out and dissect thoroughly.

Snape's brows immediately drew together in disgust. His voice was so cold it held not a trace of warmth, lashing toward the corner like a whip.

"Leoqi! Get back to your dormitory! Or do you prefer spending the night on the floor?"

He assumed the other boy would immediately run off like a startled rabbit.

Yet the boy sitting on the floor slowly raised his head.

The flickering torchlight illuminated his pale little face. His eyes, made especially moist by the effects of the [Rabbit Rhymer] Card, were slightly red around the rims, and what seemed to be unfallen tears still clung to his long lashes—perhaps just dampness from the dungeons?

He looked up at Snape, his lips trembling slightly. In a thin voice heavy with nasal congestion and unbelievable grievance, he asked, "Professor... wh-why... did you put a Tracking Charm on me?"

The words exploded beside Snape's ears like thunder!

The rebuke Snape had been about to deliver instantly caught in his throat.

A distinct crack appeared in his habitual gloomy expression.

For the first time when facing this boy, his hollow black eyes revealed undisguised, genuine surprise.

He had noticed?!

How could he possibly have noticed?!

That Tracking Charm had been cast with great care. Its magical fluctuations were exceptionally concealed. Let alone a first-year student, even many older students who had earned Outstanding on their O.W.L.s would have had no chance of detecting it!

This was completely beyond the range of magical perception a young wizard should possess!

Snape stared fixedly at Skofot, who sat on the floor looking fragile and helpless, his mind racing.

Was it a coincidence?

Was he deliberately trying to bluff me?

Or did he truly possess some extraordinary—or extremely dangerous—ability to sense magic?

After the shock came deeper wariness and scrutiny. This boy really was hiding an enormous secret!

[Emotion Points +80] (From Snape's extreme shock, the caught-off-guard exposure of his plan, and his suddenly surging desire to investigate and remain wary)

[Emotion Points: 795/100]

Snape swiftly concealed the surprise on his face and resumed that cold expression, but his gaze grew sharper, like a scalpel trying to cut through Skofot's disguise—if he was disguising himself at all.

He did not answer the question about the Tracking Charm. Instead, he stepped forward, his tall figure radiating an oppressive presence, his voice low and dangerous:

"I don't know what nonsense you're spouting, Leoqi. Now, immediately, get out of my sight. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind making Slytherin lose a hefty amount of House points for your nighttime wandering and slander of a professor."

His threat settled over Skofot like tangible frost.

Deducting points?

Skofot sneered inwardly.

To him, House points were nothing more than a meaningless numbers game, far less important than tangible Emotion Points and his own safety.

Rather than being intimidated by Snape's threat, he shifted forward half a step on his knees from where he sat on the floor, moving even closer to Snape.

He tilted up his face, pushing the [Rabbit Rhymer] card's effect to its limit. Tears trembled in his eyes without falling, and his voice carried a complete, heartbreaking trust and vulnerability:

"Professor... I believe you... There must have been some misunderstanding, or perhaps you were trying to protect me, right?"

He deliberately ignored the other man's denial and continued on his own, his tone pleading. "That spell... I can't undo it... Can you help me remove it? I-I'm a little scared..."

Protect him? A misunderstanding?

Snape's mind raced.

Is he trying to rationalize my actions?

To lower my guard?

Or is he truly stupid enough to think I would believe such nonsense?

No. Someone capable of detecting a Tracking Charm could not possibly be a genuine fool.

He was acting, but what was his purpose?

As he spoke, Skofot subtly shifted his body to the side, just enough to block Snape's most convenient path back toward his office.

The movement was exceedingly slight, but to someone as constantly vigilant as Snape, it was no different from a silent provocation and blockade.

He wants to trap me here?

The coldness in Snape's eyes deepened. With what?

Then something happened that made Snape's pupils suddenly constrict!

In that instant, he clearly felt that the boy before him—who had been teary-eyed and so fragile he seemed ready to shatter at the slightest touch just a second ago—had undergone a drastic change in temperament!

That spine-chilling, cold and clinging sense of something being off-putting appeared again. Though it lasted only an instant, a sharp killing intent, like an ice awl, stabbed directly at him!

The feeling was exactly the same as in Potions class and in the corridor last night. It was absolutely no illusion!