130: Snape's Hint and the Soul-Devouring Curse

Money isn't everything, but for most people, money is pretty persuasive.

Even in the magical world, this principle still holds true.

John quickly gathered all the necessary materials. In a delicate box lay the leaves of the Mandrake.

Once the first full moon arrived, John could begin his Animagus transformation.

"Speaking of which, Remus will also transform during the full moon."

Remembering Lupin's condition, John figured that despite the Wolfsbane Potion, Lupin probably wouldn't be showing up to class in his werewolf form.

Sure enough, during Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Snape took Lupin's place.

"Sorry, I'm late, Professor Lupin, I…"

John noticed Harry arriving late, with confusion written all over his face.

"This class started ten minutes ago, Potter, so I believe Gryffindor deserves to lose 10 points. Sit down."

Snape, standing at the podium, lifted his eyes slightly, his tone calm yet dripping with sarcasm.

Harry didn't move. He stared at Snape and asked, "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"He said he's feeling unwell and won't be able to teach today," Snape sneered.

No student had ever dared to challenge his authority before. Fixing Harry with a cold glare, he added, "Didn't I tell you to sit down?"

Harry's mind raced after that statement.

He thought about how Snape had always coveted the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and remembered the dark, murky potion Snape had given Lupin the other day.

It was almost as if Snape had poisoned Lupin. Harry didn't move, continuing to stare daggers at Snape as he asked again, "What happened to him?"

Snape's patience was running thin. His eyes widened slightly as he replied, "He's not in any danger."

Though Snape said this, his expression suggested that he wouldn't mind if something had happened.

In a calm yet icy tone, he added, "Gryffindor loses another 5 points. If I have to tell you to sit down a third time, it'll be 50 points."

Finally, Harry slowly made his way to his seat. John smirked slightly. Snape might act tough, but he had answered every one of Harry's questions.

Snape glanced coldly around the room. "Before Potter interrupted me, I was discussing the material you've already covered. Professor Lupin left no records…"

"Excuse me, sir, we've learned about Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows."

Seeing Snape's frustration, Hermione quickly recited everything they'd covered in class so far, even reminding him, "We were about to start learning…"

"Quiet. I didn't ask."

Hermione's display of knowledge only made Snape's attitude even colder. He was clearly displeased with Lupin's teaching methods. "I was merely criticizing Lupin for his lack of structure in this class."

"He did teach us…"

Dean Thomas, seeing both Harry and Hermione speak up, decided to follow suit and chime in as well.

However, as soon as Dean opened his mouth, he was met with Snape's deadly glare.

John was speechless. Does your mother's name happen to be Lily too? You're that brave, huh?

It wasn't hard to notice how dark Snape's expression had become.

Sensing that the classroom was on the verge of descending into chaos, John gave a light cough.

It wasn't loud, but the classroom gradually quieted down.

John looked up at Professor Snape with a polite smile and said, "Please, continue."

Snape stared at John for a moment, then flicked his wand.

"Today, we'll be discussing... werewolves."

He stretched out the last word, drawing attention. Hermione, on the other side of the room, was about to speak again, but Snape had already turned his gaze to John and said, "Mr. Wick, perhaps you could enlighten us?"

John looked down to see the textbook had been flipped open to page 394, the chapter on werewolves.

Snape crossed his arms, his voice dripping with laziness as he asked, "How do you distinguish between a werewolf and an ordinary wolf?"

Snape calling on John specifically was a rare occurrence, especially with Lupin absent—who just so happened to be a werewolf.

The whole situation seemed loaded with hidden implications.

John couldn't let the opportunity for extra points slip away, so he responded, "There are several small differences between werewolves and regular wolves, such as their pupils, nose, and tail..."

He answered with ease, earning Gryffindor 10 points from Snape.

Snape continued firing questions about werewolves, all directed at John. Every single one.

Hermione, sitting not far away, had her hand raised the entire time but was completely ignored.

Ron, growing increasingly irritated, blurted out, "You've asked so many questions, and she knows the answers! If you're just going to ask John, why not just give him the full 50 points already!"

Snape turned dangerously, striding over to Ron and leaning in close, his face almost touching Ron's.

The entire class held its breath—Ron was being incredibly bold.

Snape spoke softly, almost as if he were soothing a child to sleep, "Detention, Weasley."

Malfoy: pfft~

Straightening up, Snape glanced around the room, his gaze making everyone shrink back into their seats.

No one dared offer another word of protest. This lesson seemed tailored just for John and Snape, like a two-man show.

With each question, John noticed Snape had a particular fondness for him today. It was as though Snape's eyes were saying, Hurry up and realize that Lupin is a werewolf.

John had to fight the urge to rub his forehead in exasperation.

As if I didn't already know. With how obvious you're being, you might as well just come out and tell me.

After the barrage of questions, the class was assigned to copy down information about werewolves.

Snape placed another piece of parchment in front of John, who stared at the one he'd just finished copying, lost in thought.

"John Wick, your handwriting is atrocious. Do it again," Snape said slowly, his tone unhurried.

You've got to be kidding me. Say that again!

My handwriting is cursive—do you even know what cursive is?

John's mouth twitched in frustration. I get it, you're trying to hint at something, but do you really need to go this far?

With a resigned sigh and feeling a bit bitter, John started copying it all over again.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Snape glanced at John, his wand casually resting on a page with the word "werewolf" written on it.

"Each of you will write me an essay on how to identify and kill a werewolf. I expect it to be two scrolls of parchment long," Snape said.

Then he paused, lowered his head, and enunciated every word as he addressed John, "John Wick, you will submit four scrolls."

You've got to be...

John nearly snapped.

I already know!

You don't need to keep hinting! I know Lupin's a werewolf!

Who reminds someone like this?

Unfortunately, Snape didn't catch John's exasperated expression. Instead, with a hint of displeasure, he added, "Due Monday morning. This class clearly needs better discipline. Weasley, stay behind."

Ron had been fuming about Snape's deliberate disregard for Gryffindor, but after seeing John receive double the homework, he began to count his blessings as a mere unnoticed student.

Just as he was about to blend into the crowd and slip away, Snape called him out directly.

His legs wobbled a bit as he looked at Snape's pale face, which now bore a smile that was anything but reassuring.

"Harry, Hermione, help me!" he pleaded to his two friends, but all he got in return were helpless looks.

In the end, Ron was punished by being made to clean the hospital wing's toilets—without magic.

Frustrated, he muttered about how it would be great if Sirius Black could sneak into Snape's office and take care of him once and for all.

...

That night, John looked up at the sky.

Tomorrow would be the full moon. He made his way to the Chamber of Secrets.

Last time, when the Dementors had searched the grounds, they hadn't found the Chamber.

Now, a new Dementor was cornered against the wall, with John holding his wand in one hand, casting the Patronus Charm. His albatross Patronus pinned the Dementor in place.

Before him were two bottles: one containing a silver-white essence, the other, a black one.

After a moment of hesitation, John picked up the black one.

"Let's see if this can be used for soul separation."

If Dementors had physical bodies, then the black mass in front of John could be considered as such.

The essence was a mixture of curses and dust. John pressed his right hand over the black mass.

It began to absorb onto his hand, slowly forming into a black sphere.

Strands of darkness were drawn out, and John blew them toward the Dementor.

"Fuu~"

The black threads, like spider silk, gradually spread over the Dementor's form.

Its tattered cloak started to unravel, being devoured by the black sphere.

Seeing this, John narrowed his eyes.

"A case of similar entities devouring each other, huh."

Staring at the black sphere in his hand, he took out a ring.

"Come here."

Holding a ring adorned with a bright green gemstone in his palm, the darkness was drawn toward it.

The blackness slowly tainted the green gem, with spiderweb-like cracks appearing on its once-pristine surface.

"I'll call this the Soul-Devouring Curse."

He placed the ring on his right ring finger, clenched his fist, and turned back to the now weakened Dementor. With his hand open, he began stripping layers of blackness off the Dementor, which flew into the ring.

The Dementor screeched sharply as its body was gradually stripped of its cursed physical form, leaving behind only a mindless soul.

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