The Two-Faced Spy Snape

Faced with such a scene, the students who had not been entangled by vines were utterly stunned.

Ernie's eyes widened, and even his voice trembled:

"Charlie, I've never seen a move like that before!"

"That was wide-area Transfiguration."

Justin's jaw nearly hit the floor.

Transfiguration?

He had never cared much for Transfiguration, feeling that it was less direct than Charms.

What use was there in spending all day learning to turn sticks into needles?

Professor McGonagall always emphasized the importance of basic Transfiguration, but he had always thought those things were far too impractical.

And now you were telling him that such an incredible move was Transfiguration?

The upper-year Gryffindor and Slytherin students had not taken part in the brawl, but they were stunned when they saw this scene.

Seventh-year Gryffindor student Victor Mars clicked his tongue in amazement.

"This kind of wide-area Transfiguration..."

"If an adult Wizard had cast it, I wouldn't be surprised," his companion replied.

"But Charlie is only a first-year!"

"A first-year can do this?"

"How long has he been studying magic?"

"He's from an ordinary Wizard family. He shouldn't have had any formal magical education before turning eleven."

"Could he be a Pure-blood?"

"Give me a break. You're a Pure-blood too. Can you use this move right now?"

Whispers spread among the upper-year students.

As a Prefect, Percy felt his scalp go numb.

At first, he had been trying to persuade everyone to stop, but the students from both Houses had completely ignored him.

When spells were flying everywhere, he had nearly been hit as well.

With the Great Hall in such a mess, could he even continue serving as a Prefect?

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Percy's forehead.

Malfoy, who had been hung upside down in the air by the vines, was deathly pale, and blood was still dripping from his nose.

He struggled to twist his body, trying to break free, but the vines only tightened around him.

"Let me go!" Malfoy's voice sounded strange because he was upside down.

"Charlie, I didn't even provoke you. Why did you attack me?"

Charlie ignored him and focused on dealing with the food on his plate.

Hermione, meanwhile, was studying the structure of the vines.

"Charlie actually cast complex Transfiguration on dozens of objects at the same time, and he can still precisely control the strength of every vine..."

"Just how powerful is his Magic Power?"

Ron struggled a few times. "These vines are incredible."

Neville gazed at Charlie in admiration, Malfoy's blood still smeared across his fist.

At that moment, his blood was surging, and his entire body trembled uncontrollably.

It was a rush of excitement he had never felt before, all because of Charlie's words: "The tougher you act, the less willing others will be to bully you."

Just then, the doors to the Great Hall were pushed open.

Professor McGonagall froze when she entered. Then she closed the doors and pushed them open again.

When she saw that the scene was exactly the same as before, she gave up completely.

The students from Gryffindor and Slytherin were wrapped in vines of all sorts of bizarre shapes.

Everyone was gathered around Charlie beside the Hufflepuff table.

The situation was perfectly clear.

"Charlie!"

"Are you trying to tear down the school?"

Professor McGonagall let out a sharp, explosive shout.

Inside the Deputy Headmistress's office.

The main participants in the incident were all standing in front of the desk.

After Professor McGonagall heard the whole story, the anger on her face gradually faded.

She slammed her quill onto the desk, splashing a few black drops of ink.

"Gryffindor loses one hundred House Points."

"Slytherin loses one hundred House Points."

Her voice was cold enough to freeze.

Harry and Malfoy simultaneously widened their eyes, their mouths open wide enough to swallow a Golden Snitch.

One hundred points? Professor Snape is going to kill me, Malfoy thought miserably.

One hundred points? We'd only just lost ninety, Harry thought blankly.

Professor McGonagall turned to Charlie, her expression complicated.

"The way you stopped them from fighting... couldn't you have used something a little gentler?"

Charlie lowered his head.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I was too impulsive at the time."

His attitude was so sincere that no one could find fault with it.

Professor McGonagall's anger faded a little further.

When facing a teacher, an elder, or a woman, it was best not to argue. Even if you did, it would be pointless—and Professor McGonagall happened to be all three.

So Charlie decisively apologized and admitted his mistake, maintaining an excellent attitude.

That was also why Charlie often caused trouble, yet the professors still had a good impression of him.

Well, except for Snape. He thought Charlie was a pure troublemaker.

"Since the Great Hall has been left in such a mess, the professors can only eat dinner in their offices. But since your intentions were good, I won't deduct any House Points. You will serve detention for one month."

Detention was nothing. Charlie had long since grown used to it. If he didn't spend a few days in detention every week, he would start coughing.

"If you encounter a situation like this again, find a professor to handle it first." Her tone softened.

"Still, your Transfiguration... was truly impressive."

Professor McGonagall secretly marveled.

She herself had only barely managed that level of precise wide-area control in her fifth year.

If the Great Hall had not been left in such a terrible mess, she would have wanted to award Charlie one hundred House Points.

"I understand, Professor."

Charlie nodded obediently.

"You may leave."

Charlie turned and walked away.

The door closed softly behind him.

Leaving the desperate Gryffindor and Slytherin students to face the wrath of the lioness.

Professor McGonagall gazed at the closed door and could not help shaking her head.

Fortunately, Charlie wasn't a Gryffindor student.

Otherwise, those few House Points would never have been enough for him to lose.

Deep in the Forbidden Forest, dead branches and fallen leaves covered the ground.

Moonlight streamed through gaps between the leaves, casting mottled shadows across the earth.

The night wind carried the damp, earthy smell of soil, and the occasional hoot of a distant owl drifted through the darkness.

Snape stood beneath a sturdy Oak Tree.

His black robes swayed slightly in the night wind.

His face was hidden in shadow, leaving only his deep black eyes gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

"Come out."

His voice was low.

Rustling sounds came from behind the tree's shadow.

Quirrell slowly emerged, his purple turban especially conspicuous in the night.

He kept rubbing his hands together in front of him, clearly nervous.

"Severus..." Quirrell's voice carried its habitual tremor.

"You're here."

Snape took a step forward.

The moonlight illuminated his waxen face and conspicuous hooked nose.

"Have you dealt with the Three-headed dog?"

His tone was so cold that it sent shivers down one's spine.

Quirrell shrank his neck.

"Not... not yet. That beast is too fierce. I... I'm trying to think of a way."

"You fool! You're stupid enough to pass for a Troll!"

Snape interrupted him.

"Since you've decided to swear loyalty to that lord, you should do your job wholeheartedly. You can't even deal with this minor difficulty, and you still call yourself a Death Eater?"

Quirrell's body trembled.

Snape was an old subordinate of the Dark Lord. As a newcomer who had only just joined, how could Quirrell dare argue with him?

He forced a flattering smile onto his face.

"I'll do my best, Severus."

"You'd better."

Snape gave a cold snort and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Quirrell suddenly called out.

"The Master said... said that you were to cooperate with my actions."

Snape stopped walking.

"I know what I'm doing."

He tossed out those words, flicked his black robes, and vanished into the night.

Quirrell stood alone where he was, his purple turban trembling in the night wind.

He raised a shaking hand and gently touched the back of his head. Waves of agonizing pain came from there.

"Master... Snape, he..."

"Quiet, Quirrell."

An icy voice rang out from deep within his mind.

"Snape's loyalty is beyond doubt. But his arrogance... will take time to correct."

Quirrell hurriedly nodded.

"Yes, Master."

"Focus on your task. The Philosopher's Stone must be obtained."

"I understand, Master."

On the way out of the Forbidden Forest, Snape's face was gloomy.

The night wind tousled his black hair, but it could not conceal the complicated emotions in his eyes.

At the beginning of the term, Quirrell had sought him out and said that the Dark Lord needed his help.

He had to display his loyalty before Voldemort. It was a plan he and Dumbledore had discussed long ago.

Therefore, he had to obey the Dark Lord's demands. On the surface, he had to help Quirrell find the Philosopher's Stone.

At the same time, however, he also had to tell Dumbledore that the Dark Lord had possessed Quirrell.

That would give Dumbledore time to prepare. The Dark Lord absolutely could not be allowed to obtain the Philosopher's Stone.

Fortunately, the Dark Lord was still very weak.

So weak that he did not even have the strength to appear in person and meet him.

Snape quickened his pace.

The outline of the castle appeared and disappeared in the night.

His black robes billowed in the night wind, like a giant bat sweeping across the sky.

Ten thousand words a day~ Hehe~ Ten thousand words a day~ What a delicious ten thousand words~

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