Until Easter, Mandela grass finally reached a usable state, and Snape's antidote was prepared. He visited Harry in the infirmary for the second time.
He arrived at noon, when Harry had just finished lunch and was napping.
Snape stood by the bed for a long time. The afternoon sun shone on that face, almost identical to the one in his memories, and he momentarily felt transported back to his own first days at school.
"Lily," he heard himself say, "I'm sorry."
"Professor?" Harry woke up, startled to see Snape. "When did you get here?"
Snape's confusion was abruptly cleared by Harry's bewildered look. Lily would never have such a silly expression, but for some reason, his tone was still much gentler, "Your antidote is ready."
As he spoke, he took out a small bottle of potion from his sleeve and handed it over with a distant demeanor.
"Th-thank you, Professor..." Harry carefully accepted it.
"Look at me," Snape suddenly said.
Harry, startled, looked at Snape blankly.
The latter stared back, his complex expression causing Harry to panic.
Did he discover I suspect him of stealing the Philosopher's Stone? Is there poison in this antidote?
He wanted to kill me before, is it safe to drink this antidote?
He made the antidote publicly, so he can't just poison me directly, right?
But what if he did? He could easily make an excuse, saying the effects of the antidote were unforeseen, especially since a gender-switching potion had never been seen before.
Harry was incredibly torn, but he dared not drink the antidote right now.
Fortunately, Snape didn't force him to drink it immediately. After a while, he closed his eyes, his voice weak as if he was the one who was sick, "Drink it after I leave."
With that, he left.
Exiting the infirmary, Snape staggered into the courtyard, feeling as if he was watching Lily leave him again.
An overwhelming nostalgia surged from his heart, followed by endless guilt and heart-wrenching pain that almost tore him apart.
He knew Harry had only turned into that because of a mistaken potion.
He knew he wasn't Lily.
But that appearance, those eyes...
They were just like hers, haunting his dreams for countless years.
The moment he handed over the antidote, it felt like losing her all over again, a pain so intense it almost suffocated him.
"Professor... Snape..."
Suddenly, he heard someone calling him. Turning around, it was Murphy Darkholme.
"We're going to have a drink at the Three Broomsticks later with a few professors. Care to join?" Murphy asked.
It was Easter, and the school was on holiday, so the professors decided to relax at the pub.
"Stay away from me," Snape almost roared, repulsing the offer.
If there was anyone he didn't want to see at that moment, Murphy was undoubtedly at the top of the list.
"Oh, did something upset you?" Murphy wasn't scared off, speaking in that annoying, all-knowing tone.
"I said, get lost!"
"Speaking of Lily Evans..."
"Shut up!" Snape suddenly turned around, even pulling out his wand, "Don't mention that name!"
Murphy looked at him, a cold smirk lifting his lips, "Looking for a duel, Snivellus?"
"You're asking for it!" Snape was truly enraged at the mention of 'Snivellus'.
"Want to kill me?" Murphy laughed, "I'll give you a chance. Come to the Forbidden Forest, a wizard's duel, no rules. How about it?"
Murphy had a murderous intent while saying this.
He knew through Tom that Snape might have an elixir of life, but Snape was a master of Occlumency, so Murphy's usual tactics of extracting thoughts from an ordinary wizard's mind wouldn't work on him.
Moreover, Snape was usually at school, which meant Dumbledore could interfere with any direct confrontation.
So, Murphy planned to lure him out while he was distressed about Harry, to incapacitate him, and then extract the information, whether through torture, Veritaserum, or Legilimency.
It was a holiday, and the professors were out, so Snape's disappearance wouldn't raise any alarms.
"Come on, Snape, let's duel."
"You must hate me, right?
Uncovering your scars, publicly humiliating you, and these repeated provocations. Can you really restrain yourself?"
Snape's eyes were nearly ablaze with fury, his face twisted with anger.
But just when Murphy thought he'd agree to a duel in a fit of rage, Snape suddenly lowered his wand, "Leave me alone, stop bothering me."
What?
Murphy was shocked.
He could hold back even now?
What was going on with him?
Was he like a ninja turtle?
Autistic?
"Damn it," Murphy was truly annoyed by this gloomy man, "Is this even living?"
Snape didn't respond.
Fine, ignore me, will you?
Heart dead as ash?
Walking dead?
Heh, guess what, I don't fear you gloomy ghosts at all.
"Incarcerous!"
Suddenly, ropes appeared out of nowhere, binding Snape securely.
Then, with a wave of his wand, Murphy levitated Snape, leading him like a balloon out of the school. After a short flight, they landed in Hogsmeade Village.
"What are you doing?! Put me down!" Snape was near madness, being dragged around like a balloon was a humiliation he had never suffered before.
Oh, except for the time James Potter hung him in a tree, revealing his underwear.
Murphy ignored him, leading Snape to the Three Broomsticks.
Passersby stared, and Snape's face flushed with rage, "I'll kill you! Murphy Darkholme! I'll kill you!"
"Thinking of killing now?" Murphy scoffed, "Too late!"
Murphy kicked open the pub door, "Madam Rosmerta... ahem, ma'am."
He glanced at the pub owner's expression and his arrogance somewhat diminished, "Got any strong liquor?"
She brought up a few high-alcohol bottles, smiling, "Is this some kind of prank? I've never seen a Snape-shaped balloon before."
"I'm not a balloon!" Snape was so angry he could have killed everyone in the pub at that moment.
"Two glasses, please," Murphy requested.
"Aren't you joining the other professors? They're waiting at their table for you."
"No, thanks," Murphy said, leading Snape, "Today, one of us needs to go down."
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