Chapter 29 Snape
As for Professor Snape's detention the next day, Della took Quirrell with her. She couldn't face the professor who kept applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Who knew if he had some "extraordinary means".
You know, the moment she reveals the secret, she will die.
Snape's office was as dark as ever. Only the bottles and jars on display emitted a faint fluorescent light. The smell of various herbs mixed together, eventually reaching the nose as a strange bitter taste, just as bitter as the professor looked.
"It seems that our Miss Riddle has brought her backers with her." Snape, who was sitting at the desk, looked even more gloomy. He supported himself on the table with his hands clasped together, and looked back and forth between the two of them with a scrutinizing gaze.
"I'm very sorry, professor. There are some questions that I can't answer." Della's well-behaved little face was frowned, and her eyes seemed to be filled with tears, adding a bit of sadness.
"Hmph," Snape was completely unmoved. He snorted coldly and looked directly at Quirrell, who had an expressionless face. "Then, our timid, poor Professor Quirrell, can you give me an answer?"
"I know you, Snape. You are also a subordinate of the master." The timidity on Quirrell's face completely faded away, and instead, a strange self-confidence emerged. He walked to Snape's desk with his hands behind his back, staring at the man's increasingly dark eyes.
When he stood still, he still stared at Snape, but stretched out a finger to point at Della, "And that child is the blood of the master."
Surprise, disgust, regret, and a mixture of heavy emotions shot straight at Della. That thick and deep emotion even made people feel like they were falling, as if hell was under their feet.
"Professor Quirrell can straighten his tongue at this moment," Snape quickly retracted his gaze and looked at Quirrell again, "Or do you think I'm stupid enough to believe such a lie? Since you know that I'm a subordinate of the Dark Lord, why don't I know anything about such an important matter?"
"I have received a reward from the master. The master has given me more and let me know more," Quirrell spoke in a deeper voice than ever before. The fanaticism in his eyes made his bloodshot eyes extremely red. "I have been summoned by the master, Snape, and the master has also given you an order. You must not hinder me now."
Snape stopped talking. A terrifying cloud was brewing in his usually serious face. He confronted Quirrell's fanaticism with questioning and calmness. The two of them did not speak, each waiting for the other to be defeated first.
"Professor Quirrell, I think Professor Snape also has the right to know some things, for example, some things about me. Since I am doing this for my dear father, why should I do this?"
In the stagnant atmosphere, it was Della who broke the silence. Absorbing divine thoughts and truth serum, neither of them would be a good thing for her.
"It is extremely impolite to interrupt the conversation of professors, Miss Riddle, Slytherin... Never mind, I'll arrange your detention time later." After glancing at Della, Snape looked at Quirrell again, his eyes raised, waiting for Quirrell's explanation.
"Snape, I know you have a lot of questions, but I have signed an unbreakable oath with our lady. Your curiosity will break the oath of keeping secrets. In order to preserve the bloodline of our great master, I don't think you will do anything rude to the lady later."
Quirrell was still speaking impassionedly, which was very different from his usual self. He was fervent and crazy, like a cultist who was about to die. The impact of Voldemort's possession was far beyond Della's imagination.
"Unbreakable Vow, Quirrell? Why do you think that you can make me believe your poor story by pretending to vent in front of me? I think," Snape narrowed his eyes, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes showed incredible sharpness. He pulled open his sleeves to reveal the mark inside, "you don't even have the Dark Mark."
It was the mark of a Death Eater. This professor was really a subordinate of Voldemort! Della opened her eyes slightly and stared at the mark of a skull spitting out a snake that she had seen in the book. Although she was mentally prepared, she was still shocked by the snake that seemed to be swimming in Snape's hand.
Quirrell looked as if he had suffered a great shock. His body shook uncontrollably. He muttered and took several steps back. His hands trembled as if he wanted to touch his distorted face. Suddenly, he froze again, as if he was hit by an electric current. His whole body trembled, his teeth clenched, and his hands suddenly dropped.
Quirrell's series of actions were really weird. Snape and Della looked deeply at the young man in front of them with a distorted face and widening eyes. His eyeballs rolled upwards and his mouth opened wide, spitting out a little white foam, as if he was going to fall to the ground in the next second.
Just as Snape saw that the situation was getting worse and worse and had already stood up, Quirrell's eyes suddenly rolled over and turned into the same white color as a corpse. As his eyes changed, his originally distorted facial features immediately calmed down, and he appeared in front of the other two with a cold-blooded face.
"Dear Severus," his voice was filled with a gritty grinding sound. He seemed to be still adapting to this method. While speaking, the 'Quirrell' kept turning his neck. "Forgive your poor master for only being able to appear in front of you in this way. I think this is the only way to make you believe him."
The Dark Mark on Snape's hand glowed dimly, and panic flashed across his always serious face, but Snape quickly calmed down. He walked around the table beside him, walked quickly to Quirrell, who turned his neck from time to time, and knelt on one knee.
"Dark Lord, how did you become like this?" He raised his head and looked into the pair of stiff white pupils.
"I will get out of this situation, Snape." Even though his eyeballs could not be seen, Quirrell still gave people a feeling of being condescending. The arrogance that was unique to Voldemort did not suit the young man's face, and it made people feel cold. He turned his head slightly stiffly, and his stiff facial features began to twist. Facing Della, he squeezed out a deliberate warmth.
"And you, my dear child, what a touching meeting!"
The expression on that face was indescribably strange. Such deliberate warmth seemed more like a hypocritical reward, mixed with a bit of subtle scrutiny. Della looked back at the terrifying pupils, with her usual well-behaved smile on her face.
"Yes, my great father, what a touching meeting."
It seems that Voldemort did not trust Snape, and his power was probably enhanced because of his blood...
Della was thinking secretly. Voldemort had turned his head over there. He manipulated his stiff arm to fall on Snape's lowered head, and his mouth opened and closed. "Severus, I need you to teach my child together. Your attainments in the dark arts will benefit her a lot."
"Yes, Dark Lord." Snape lowered his head and responded in a low voice.
"Okay, my energy is still limited right now, so that's it. Quirrell will talk to you about what happens next."
Before the echo of these words faded away, a crash exploded beside Snape's ears. In his peripheral vision, he saw Quirrell collapsed to the ground, and a bloody mess spreading. He hurried to Quirrell. The poor young man had his eyes closed, and blood was constantly oozing from his facial features.
"Go and get the high-level healing medicine on the third row of shelves on the left!" He shouted at Della while waving his wand and casting a spell. The bleeding gradually stopped and the potion was delivered to his eyes.
Snape took the potion, lifted Quirrell's neck, pinched his mouth and poured the potion into his mouth. A lot of liquid flowed down and a blush quietly climbed up Quirrell's pale cheek.
At this moment, Snape withdrew his hand without mercy, causing the back of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's head to hit the ground heavily, and a muffled groan came out of Quirrell's throat.
...I really don't know if Voldemort is in pain...
Della raised her eyebrows and looked at the purple turban behind Quirrell's head, thinking with some gloating.
After Voldemort's display today, she probably understood that she was probably in great danger, so she was very happy to see that guy unhappy.
"So, our Miss Riddle," Snape turned his serious face to Della, and the corners of his mouth pulled down even more, "what have you learned about the dark arts?"
"Professor, I don't know if there is any system for the Dark Arts." Della paused and rolled her eyes. "If I must say, the Killing Curse, this is what we learned last night."
"Have you learned it?"
"Yes, Professor, I think I have a talent for it."
"This is really not a pleasant confidence." Snape's eyes were wrinkled. He looked at the girl standing upright with a smile on her face. He snorted coldly, waved his robe and walked back to the desk, raising gusts of cold wind. "Come here and show me what you have learned before."
A mouse in a jar appeared on the table. There was a strange glow on its body, and it seemed that it was still eating. Della raised her eyebrows and cast an Avada Kedavra curse. The mouse immediately stiffened and fell to the ground, but within three seconds, a light flashed and the mouse moved again.
"This is used to test the magic rat. It has many lives."
There was sarcasm in the eyes of the black-robed professor. Della smiled and cast a corrosive spell. The rat instantly turned into pus while struggling. However, three seconds later, the pile of water turned into a lively rat again.
"What a very convenient mouse."
Facing Snape's increasingly sarcastic and scrutinizing gaze, Della smiled and continued to cast the spells she had selected.