Snape stood silently in the shadows until Kettleburn finished speaking, then added in a voice just loud enough for everyone to hear, "But eight-legged spiders don't need to eat people to survive, while Vampire must drink human blood to live."
His tone remained calm, devoid of any extra emotion, but after he finished speaking, the atmosphere, which had already eased somewhat, tensed up again.
McGonagall's gaze fell on Snape, as if she read some kind of warning in his words.
Snape didn't continue, but turned to McGonagall: "If there's nothing else, I'll leave now. I'm going to check on the students in Slytherin."
McGonagall nodded, showing considerable appreciation for Snape. Although he was usually quite cold and ruthless, he genuinely cared about his students when needed.
Snape turned and walked out of the meeting room, the hem of his black robe brushing against the edge of the door frame with a soft rustling sound.
The door slowly closed behind him, leaving only a thin beam of light shining through the crack before disappearing. The other two deans Flitwick and Sprout, also took their leave upon seeing this.
Quirrell stood in the middle of the crowd, his gaze shifting uncertainly as he cautiously watched McGonagall, seemingly unsure of what to say.
He opened his mouth, but McGonagall didn't respond immediately. Instead, she turned to the other professors and gave them some instructions about sealing off the gate and increasing patrols.
The other professors also took their leave one after another, and the office gradually quieted down, until only Quirrell remained standing by the window.
McGonagall glanced at him, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke, "Go ahead, go see what help Hagrid needs, and also check on those Vampire he keeps. After all, it's Dumbledore's order."
Quirrell said nothing more, turned and strode out of the conference room without even changing his clothes.
He was still dressed in his casual clothes. His original plan for this afternoon was to go to Diagon Alley to buy some materials for the next class, but now it seems that he will have to wait a long time before he has the opportunity to buy those materials.
At least until the Vampire incident is resolved and the school lockdown ends.
He walked quickly across the playground. Some students passing by greeted him, but he didn't have time to respond. To walk faster, he lifted the hem of his robe a little with his hand.
He passed through the side gate of the castle and hurried along the path leading to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The sky was rapidly darkening, and the distant treetops became dark silhouettes in the twilight, like a slowly closing curtain, waiting to swallow those who entered it.
When Snape returned to his office, the silver-blue flames were still burning quietly in the fireplace, illuminating the entire room with a cool, bright light.
He stood by the fireplace without sitting down, and after a while, the Prefect, who had been notified by the students who had been successfully conscripted, rushed in. Before he could catch his breath, Snape gave the order, his voice not loud but cold enough:
"Take a full headcount of all the Slytherin students." He then added, "Especially the new students; you must know where every single one is."
The Prefect paused for a moment, then quickly ran away, his footsteps fading rapidly down the corridor.
It was a long time before the Prefect returned to report.
Although students are not allowed to leave the school at the moment, the castle is very large, and students are running all over the castle. It is a difficult task to count all the students.
When the Prefect ran back to Snape's office, his face was even paler than before. Judging from his breathing, he was exhaling more than inhaling, clearly indicating that under Snape's intimidating presence, he hadn't dared to stop the whole way and had been running the entire time.
Snape, seeing his expression, tapped his fingers lightly on the rim of the fireplace. "All accounted for? Everyone's at school, right?"
The Prefect, panting, stammered, "They're all at the castle... but there are three first-years... Herman Horace, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, we can't find them."
Snape's gaze lingered on his face for a moment. "Three?"
His voice lowered a few decibels, like a crack opening beneath the ice, "What do you mean three first-year students are missing? Is this the result of me making you Prefect? Do you think I've been too lenient with you?"
Seeing Snape on the verge of exploding, the Prefect tried to salvage the situation and quickly said, "We have information on two students, a boy and a girl. Someone knows they went to the hunting grounds to guard them."
Snape's expression shifted slightly after that sentence, a subtle change that only the Prefect, who had been watching him closely, would notice: "Who are they?"
After being yelled at by Snape, the Prefect couldn't remember for a moment. He only remembered that the man's name was Herman, and the other woman... he couldn't recall her name either.
" Herman, the man's name is Herman Horace."
Snape's eyes flickered slightly, and he pressed on, "And the other one?"
The Prefect frowned again. "The other one... is a girl, but her name... I can't remember it for the moment."
Snape's fingers paused on the fireplace rim. His expression softened slightly upon hearing Herman; if Herman was involved, then it was likely Harry. "Who told you this?"
The Prefect, as if grasping at a last straw, hurriedly said, "They're in the break room. I'll go get them right away."
After he finished speaking, to show his loyalty, he turned and jogged away.
After a while, the door was pushed open, and the Prefect walked in with two chubby boys who were panting heavily.
Crabbe and Goyle stood in the doorway, and when they saw Snape, their breaths almost stopped at the same time; Crabbe even forgot to put down the half-eaten loaf of bread he was holding.
Snape looked at them, his tone as sharp as iron just pulled from an icebox. "Do you know who went to the game's watchman's?"
Crabbe swallowed hard. " Draco, Draco and Herman, Draco even said she'd bring us back some good food."
Snape stood there motionless, but the air around him seemed to be compressed by something, and the hem of his robes moved without wind, as if an invisible tide was surging up from the ground.
The Prefect, Crabbe Goyle, and the other two stood frozen in place, like three birds in a daze.
After a while, the invisible pressure slowly subsided, and Snape turned around, his voice regaining its icy tone. "Get out." The three of them turned and ran out of the office almost simultaneously, the door closing behind them with a muffled thud.
Snape stood beside the fireplace, the silvery-blue flames casting flickering light on his profile.
When he saw Crabbe and Goyle, he already had a guess in his mind—these two families had always followed the Malfoy family's lead and had nothing to do with Harry —but he still couldn't help but feel annoyed when he finally heard the answer.
Even the magic was affected by emotions, spreading uncontrollably in all directions, causing the black robes to flutter.
Now that he'd calmed down, one question was swirling in his mind: Where was Harry? At school? In some room? Maybe, then there was no need to worry.