Giving Gifts＾

[Emotion Points -5 (Manifestation Card) -5 (Teleport Card)]

[Emotion Points: 1440/100]

The dungeon was utterly silent in the dead of night, broken only by the occasional faint crackle of the torches on the walls.

Snape had just taken off his robe, which reeked of all kinds of potion ingredients, and was about to enjoy a rare moment of solitude when an extremely faint spatial ripple—one that absolutely did not belong here—made every muscle in his body tense instantly.

He spun around, wand already in hand, and barked, "Who?!"

In the shadows of his bedroom, a small figure slowly appeared.

Skofot Leoqi stood there with his hands behind his back, his face expressionless, as though teleporting into a professor's bedroom in the middle of the night by unknown means was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Snape's pupils abruptly contracted, shock and fury surging through his body like cold flames.

Him again! That damned little monster!

He had actually broken through Hogwarts' defenses and the wards Snape had set, appearing here directly?!

"Leoqi!" Snape's voice trembled slightly with extreme fury and a trace of barely perceptible alarm. "How dare you—!"

"Professor," Skofot interrupted him, his voice terrifyingly steady, forming a bizarre contrast with his intrusion into someone else's private quarters.

Ignoring Snape's wand aimed at him, he merely brought out the hand he had kept behind his back.

In his hand was an ordinary-looking cardboard box, no larger than his palm.

The tip of Snape's wand did not waver in the slightest. His gaze was sharp as a blade as he stared at the box, as though it contained an incomparably venomous snake.

Once again, he felt that suffocating sensation of being led around by the nose, along with a powerful, almost instinctive sense of danger.

Every time this boy appeared, he brought inexplicable abnormalities and unsettling "gifts."

Skofot gently placed the box on a nearby table piled high with clutter, moving carefully as though it contained something fragile.

He raised his eyes to Snape. There was no emotion in those dark eyes as he stated clearly:

"Inside is Lily Evans' Hair."

Those words struck Snape like the most vicious curse, like a bolt of lightning crashing directly into him.

The color drained from his face in an instant, even his lips turning pale.

For the first time, those hollow black eyes showed shock that was nearly shattered and...

A trace of unconcealable pain, buried deep in his bones.

The hand holding his wand trembled uncontrollably.

Lily... Lily?

No! Impossible! How could he have... This had to be a scheme! Dumbledore's test? Or... something else?

Snape's mind was in chaos. The enormous shock had nearly robbed him of the ability to think.

He stared fixedly at the box, then abruptly turned his gaze to Skofot, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. "You... what did you say?"

"Lily Evans' Hair."

Skofot repeated it, his tone completely flat. "You can verify its authenticity with Polyjuice Potion."

Polyjuice Potion... verify...

It felt as though an invisible hand had seized Snape's heart, making even breathing difficult.

Of course he knew Polyjuice Potion could verify the true source of hair.

If... if it really was...

He did not dare think further. What would that mean?

It would mean that this bizarre first-year not only knew Lily, knew about his past with Lily, but could even obtain Lily's keepsakes!

Who exactly was he?! Where had he gotten this thing?!

After the overwhelming shock came towering rage and icy killing intent.

Snape suddenly took a step forward, his wand nearly touching Skofot's nose. He forced the words through gritted teeth, reeking of blood: "Who... exactly... are... you?!"

Skofot seemed utterly unaware of the wand inches from his face and the killing intent that had nearly solidified into something tangible.

He calmly met Snape's bloodshot eyes, filled with violent emotion, and gently shook his head.

"A Hogwarts student. Have you forgotten?"

He paused, then added in the same indifferent voice, though it was like a poison-tipped needle:

"I think you'll need it. After all, some things, every glance is one less."

After delivering those pointed, almost cruel words, Skofot did not linger.

He stepped back, and his figure began to blur, like ink dissolving into shadows. Clearly, he was preparing to use that strange teleportation ability again.

"Stop!" Snape shouted, trying to bind him with magic, but the spatial ripple came and went too quickly. His spell caught nothing but emptiness.

Skofot vanished, as abruptly as he had arrived.

Only Snape's heavy breathing remained in the bedroom, along with the quiet box resting on the table, as though it contained an endless storm.

Snape stood frozen in place. Only after a long while did he stagger toward the table as though all strength had been drained from him.

His gaze was nailed to the box. His fingers trembled as he reached for it several times, only to pull back as if burned.

Lily's... hair?

In the end, he still lacked the courage to open it immediately.

He merely stood there as though petrified, tidal waves churning in his hollow eyes.

—Shock, pain, suspicion, killing intent, and a deep fear that nearly threatened to swallow him whole.

This boy named Skofot Leoqi was no longer merely a "problem student."

He had become a walking mystery, an exceedingly dangerous existence that struck precisely at his deepest wound.

Tonight, Severus Snape was destined to go sleepless.

[Emotion Points +150] (From Snape's extreme shock, pain, killing intent, and shattered understanding)

[Emotion Points: 1590/100]

The following afternoon, at the end of an abandoned corridor in the castle, sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting several pale patches of light onto the dusty stone floor.

Snape stood like a condensed shadow, blocking the only exit.

There was no expression on his face, but a storm suppressed throughout the night churned in those black-hole eyes.

—Shock, fury, suspicion, and the icy killing intent born from having his deepest taboo touched.

The moment Skofot arrived, he was locked onto by that almost tangible pressure.

He stopped and raised his head, not showing the slightest surprise.

"Leoqi." Snape's voice was low and smooth, yet more chilling than any shriek. Every syllable seemed dredged up from the depths of an ice cellar.

"We need to talk. About last night. About... that... thing you sent."

He took a step closer, his tall figure nearly completely engulfing Skofot, carrying an oppressive aura mixed with old potion scents and some sharp emotion.

"I believe you owe me an explanation. A convincing explanation of how you obtained it, and what... exactly... you are."

Though he had not raised his wand, his fingers twitched slightly, clearly ready to cast the most vicious curse at any moment.

The air around them seemed to freeze. Dust hung suspended in the shafts of light, afraid to fall.

Skofot listened quietly, his face still expressionless, though deep within his eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible trace of calculation seemed to pass.

He knew Snape would come looking for him. He simply had not expected it to happen so quickly, so directly.

Just as Snape waited for his answer, prepared to decide from Skofot's reaction whether to begin with Legilimency or Crucio,

Skofot suddenly tilted his head slightly. His gaze seemed to lose focus for a brief moment, as though he were listening to a voice only he could hear.

Then he gave Snape an extremely faint curve of a smile, one that could barely even be called a smile.

There was no warmth in that smile. Instead, it carried a hint of... mockery?

"Professor," he said, his voice as steady as ever, "some answers hurt more to know than not to know."

The instant those words fell, before Snape even had time to react or understand what they meant,

Skofot's figure abruptly twisted and blurred before his eyes, like a reflection on water shattered by a thrown stone, instantly breaking apart and dispersing—

He disappeared.

Completely and silently. He left behind no trace of magical ripples, nor any sign of a Disillusionment Charm or Apparition, which was forbidden within the school.

It was as though he had never stood there at all, as though their conversation and confrontation had merely been one of Snape's illusions.