Sorry QAQ

He paused, a trace of unease and pleading appearing on his face at just the right moment. He lowered his voice slightly, with a hint of barely perceptible urgency: "Professor, I... I know I've caused everyone a great deal of trouble, especially all of you professors. I... could I apologize to them in person? At least... let the professors concerned know that I'm... okay now."

He did not say it outright, but the meaning behind his words was clear—

He wanted Dumbledore to gather all the key professors who had personally witnessed his frenzied behavior before.

Dumbledore listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously stroking the smooth shaft of the Elder Wand.

His piercing blue eyes narrowed slightly, as though weighing the deeper meaning behind this request.

Was it sincere remorse? An attempt to lower their guard?

Or...

Did he have some other scheme?

Skofot waited nervously. He could feel the scrutiny in Dumbledore's gaze as though it were tangible.

At last, Dumbledore gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"I understand," he said slowly, his tone as steady as ever.

"Considering that your previous condition did indeed cause several of my colleagues quite a... shock, perhaps it is necessary for them to see your recovery with their own eyes."

He did not expose the ambiguity in Skofot's words, nor did he press for the source of his "mental problems."

The old man seemed to have chosen to accept this explanation for the time being—or rather, he was willing to give this boy, who had landed himself in enormous trouble, a chance to "prove" himself, while also giving himself and his colleagues an opportunity to observe and confirm things at close range.

Dumbledore turned toward the door. He did not use magic, but walked out with steady steps like an ordinary old man.

From outside came his clear voice, not loud but remarkably penetrating. He seemed to be using some form of voice-transmission magic, sending it precisely in several specific directions:

"Minerva, Severus, please come to the West Tower. And if Poppy is available, please ask her to come as well."

His voice faded into the silence of the tower.

Dumbledore walked back into the room. He did not approach the stone bed again, instead choosing a position from which he could survey the entire room. He stood there with his hands folded before him, silently waiting.

His gaze remained fixed on Skofot. Beneath that calm stare lay vigilance that never relaxed.

Skofot let out a small sigh of relief inwardly. The first step had succeeded.

He lowered his head, concealing the calculating glint that flashed through his eyes.

Next, he only had to wait until the audience was complete, then... use that expensive "ticket" to erase every memory that should not exist.

He sat quietly on the stone bed, like an actor waiting for the opening gong.

And Dumbledore was the calmest, and hardest to fool, member of the audience—as well as the judge.

The air in the tower seemed to grow even more stagnant and tense with the people who were about to arrive.

The atmosphere in the tower room was grave.

Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Madam Pomfrey arrived one after another. They stood beside Dumbledore, their complex gazes directed at Skofot on the stone bed.

Professor McGonagall's brows were tightly furrowed, her eyes filled with scrutiny and lingering concern;

Madam Pomfrey's gaze held a mix of professional concern and lingering fear;

Snape, as always, was expressionless. His hollow black eyes were unfathomable, like two cold, deep wells that revealed not the slightest emotion.

Now was the time. The audience was complete.

Without hesitation, Skofot selected the [Large-Scale Memory Eraser Card] worth 900 Emotion Points in his mind and set its erasure range—

All Hogwarts staff and students, removing their clear memories of all his recent frenzied and abnormal behavior, including but not limited to acrobatic performances, cravings for raw food, breaking into bedrooms at night, hunting in the Forbidden Forest, and so on.

He blurred it into: "Leoqi experienced a sudden, unexplained mental episode that briefly caused abnormal behavior, but he has now largely recovered."

The moment the command was issued, the card transformed into invisible gray ripples. Centered on him, they silently swept across all of Hogwarts, precisely affecting the consciousness of every target.

The professors standing before the bed almost simultaneously showed an extremely brief flicker of distraction and confusion in their eyes, as if something in their minds had been gently erased and swiftly reorganized.

The process was so fast it was almost like an illusion.

Professor McGonagall blinked and spoke first. Her tone was confused, but the previous terror had vanished. "Mr. Leoqi, how are you feeling? Madam Pomfrey said your mental state was somewhat unstable earlier?"

She seemed to remember only the vague concept of "mental discomfort"; the specific details had already become blurred.

Madam Pomfrey chimed in as well, her tone much more natural. "Yes, child, is there anywhere you still feel unwell? That... uncontrollable feeling, is it still there?"

Her concern was focused on whether the "symptoms" had disappeared, rather than the specific horrifying behavior.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly.

He keenly caught the subtle changes in Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey's tone and expressions.

But he said nothing, merely observed in silence.

Skofot steadied himself inwardly. The card had taken effect. Keeping up his weak and apologetic expression, he replied, "Thank you for your concern, Professor, Madam. I feel much better now. Before... it was like having a nightmare. My mind was a mess, but I'm clear-headed now."

Then, as if unintentionally, he turned his gaze toward Snape, who had shown not the slightest confusion from beginning to end, his eyes still cold and sharp.

"Professor Snape," Skofot said, his voice carrying just the right degree of probing, "Thank you for making the trip as well... and I apologize for any... inconvenience I may have caused earlier."

He used the understated word "inconvenience."

In an instant, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey's gazes fell on Snape as well. Their expressions were perfectly natural, as though they were merely waiting for him to offer a few words of concern or inquiry.

Beneath his black robes, Snape's fingertips curled slightly.

He felt it clearly.

In that single instant just now, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey's clear memories of the little monster's recent insane actions—perhaps even Dumbledore's as well, though he could not be sure—had been interfered with by some force, blurred or even erased.

Only he retained every memory in full—

—from hanging upside down over his bed to gnawing on raw meat in the Forbidden Forest with blood all over his mouth.

Had he been accidentally overlooked?

Or was it... deliberate?

Snape's mind raced.

If it was an accident, exposing it now would only complicate matters, and he would have no way to explain why he alone was immune.

If it was deliberate... what did this little monster want?

Was letting him alone retain those memories a provocation?

Or some kind of... deeper scheme?

He could not reveal anything.

He had to play along with this... clumsy performance.

Snape met Skofot's seemingly innocent, probing gaze. The corner of his mouth pulled into an extremely cold curve, barely a smile at all, and his voice was smooth with his habitual mockery:

"Inconvenience? If you mean your insignificant, troll-like stupidity of a 'mental discomfort'..."

He deliberately paused. Only when he saw Skofot's eyes tighten slightly did he continue in that oily tone, "Then remember this lesson, Leoqi. Hogwarts is not your sanatorium. Keeping your impoverished and unstable mind under control would be the greatest 'apology' you could offer us."

His words still sounded as cutting as ever, entirely in keeping with his usual manner, yet they deftly shifted the focus toward "mental discomfort" and "the need for control," fitting perfectly into the collective understanding that had now been altered.