Caught QnQ

The dungeon's chill seeped into the stone walls. Snape had always been a light sleeper, like thin ice covering danger.

Tonight, an indescribable, faint discomfort—not from any wound—dragged him back from the edge of chaos.

It was neither a sound nor a scent, but more like... the stagnant sensation of space being unnaturally compressed, directly above him.

His eyes snapped open.

His hollow black eyes instantly adjusted to the dimness of the bedroom, and then his gaze collided head-on with another pair of eyes.

Those eyes were extremely close, hanging upside down less than a foot above his forehead.

Black strands of hair drooped slightly with their owner's inverted posture, brushing against his bed curtains.

Skofot Leoqi, like some enormous, bizarre bat—or rather, an unbalanced acrobat—was half-crouching and half-hanging from the carved rail at the head of his bed, maintaining his balance in a posture that defied gravity and common sense, silently staring down at him upside down.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze.

Only the faint crackle of the torches and their nearly inaudible breathing remained in the dungeon.

At that instant, all the blood in Snape's body seemed to rush to his brain—then freeze solid.

Shock surged through his limbs like an icy current, a reaction far beyond anything he had felt when facing any Dark Wizard or dangerous magical creature.

This was not an attack, nor was it a provocation. This was a... complete, insane, incomprehensible aberration!

He could even clearly see that what flickered in the upside-down boy's eyes was not rational clarity, but a chaotic gleam mixed with excitement, confusion, and pure curiosity.

[Energy -5] (Teleport Card used to enter Snape's bedroom)

[Emotion Points: 1765/100]

Almost instinctively, Snape's body moved before his mind could react.

He did not scream or scramble out of bed—that would only make the situation spiral further out of control.

The hand at his side abruptly clenched around the wand that had somehow slipped into his palm, and with a tiny but lightning-fast upward motion, he pointed it—

"Immobulus! (Immobulus, Full Body-Bind Curse)"

A faint blue light struck the upside-down Skofot with perfect accuracy.

The boy's body suddenly stiffened, and his bizarre balance was instantly broken.

Like a sack of potatoes deprived of support, he toppled stiffly and straight down from the rail, crashing toward Snape on the bed.

Snape's pupils contracted. He rolled swiftly toward the inner side of the bed, while his other hand slashed through the air—

"Arresto Momentum! (Cushioning and Momentum-Stopping Charm)"

The force of the fall was forcibly slowed by magic. Skofot's rigid body finally landed with a soft thump in the spot where Snape had just been lying, kicking up a little dust.

He remained curled in the position he had fallen in, with only his eyes able to move as they stared fixedly at the dark-patterned canopy overhead.

Snape had already rolled out of bed, his black robes spreading behind him like bat wings.

He stood beside the bed, his chest rising and falling slightly, his wand steadily aimed at the bound figure on the bed. His face was nearly deathly pale.

His eyes churned with lingering fear, fury, and a deep helplessness that nearly threatened to drown him.

He stared at Skofot for several minutes, perhaps longer, trying to calm his pounding heart and boiling murderous intent.

This was not the first time, but this time, the madness had already crossed every line.

At last, he spoke. His voice, strained by extreme restraint, was unusually hoarse and cold, each word seeming to be ground out from the depths of his throat.

"Explain."

The person on the bed turned his eyes toward him. For a brief moment, the chaos in those eyes seemed to clear, and an extremely faint emotion resembling Damn, I went too far flashed through them, only to be swiftly swallowed again by that dazed excitement.

He tried to move his lips, but the Full Body-Bind Curse did not even allow him that much.

Snape did not need his answer.

He drew a deep breath. His cold gaze swept over Skofot's entire body like a scalpel, missing not a single detail.

No weapons, no traces of Dark Magic Items—only that damned, bizarre aura, as though it had fused with madness itself.

He walked to the bedside table and, with movements somewhat stiff, opened a locked case. From within, he took out a crystal vial containing a clear blue liquid that radiated a tranquil aura—

a powerful sedative.

He pulled out the stopper, walked to the bed, and without the slightest gentleness, gripped Skofot's jaw and forced the potion down his throat.

After doing all that, he stepped back several paces, still holding up his wand, like a wary guard facing an out-of-control beast in a cage.

The potion took effect quickly.

The chaotic light in Skofot's eyes gradually faded, replaced by a heavy, irresistible drowsiness.

His eyelids slowly closed. Under the combined effects of the spell and potion, his rigid body fell completely still, lying on the professor's bed like an abandoned doll.

Snape remained standing, not approaching.

He looked at the boy on the bed, forced into sleep, then lifted his eyes to the carved rail above the headboard, as though he could still see the inverted figure staring at him from there.

An icy chill crawled up his spine.

This was no longer mere misconduct, no longer an eccentric temperament.

It was something... something he could neither understand nor categorize.

A kind of inner madness, rotting away from within.

He could no longer rely solely on surveillance and warnings.

More decisive measures had to be taken. Before things spiraled completely out of control, before someone—quite possibly including himself—suffered irreparable harm.

He waved his wand and used the Levitation Charm to lower the sleeping Skofot from the bed, leaving him propped in the shadows by the wall.

Then he went to the desk, spread out a sheet of parchment, and picked up a quill.

He needed to write a letter. To Dumbledore. Now, immediately.

The shadows of Hogwarts were quietly breeding in ways far beyond his expectations.

When Skofot regained consciousness, the first things he felt were the crushing pressure of his body being tightly bound by tough material and the lingering grogginess left behind by a powerful sedative.

He opened his eyes to find himself seated in a hard-backed chair, his hands tied behind the chair back and his feet separately secured to its legs...

Looking around, he saw the familiar Spiral Staircase, the spindly tables piled with silver instruments, and the portraits of sleeping former headmasters on the walls... This was the Headmaster's Office.

He shifted slightly. The Binding Charm had indeed been lifted, but the physical restraints remained secure.

His face showed little expression. He merely sat there quietly, like a pale doll placed on display.