Hogwarts: I am the White Demon King

In June, Hogwarts was bathed in the intense, bright sunlight that streamed through the arched windows of the castle, casting dappled shadows.

Snape stood silently on the Astronomy Tower, watching the students pour out of the castle, backpacks and luggage in tow, heading towards Hogsmeade Station.

“Woo—”

The Hogwarts Express whistled, puffing white smoke as it slowly pulled away from the station.

Only when the train's outline gradually blurred on the horizon, finally disappearing from sight, did Snape retract his gaze.

He slowly raised his hand, extending his wand, and gently touched the hidden Dark Mark on his left arm.

At the wand's touch, the Dark Mark flared with a slight burning sensation, but quickly subsided into stillness.

The signal had been sent; now, all that remained was to await Voldemort's summons.

He put away his wand, turned, and left the bell tower, heading towards the potions office located in the castle's dungeons. Along the way, he walked at a measured pace, his steps utterly unhurried.

Pushing open the wooden door of the office, Snape went straight to the chair behind his desk. He didn't turn on any magical lamps, nor did he touch any of the items on the desk, but simply closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, lost in thought.

Time flowed silently in the darkness. At some unknown point, a violent burning sensation surged from his left arm.

Switching on the magical desk lamp, Snape saw that the mark had begun to turn pitch black, like a ball of black fire embedded in his skin.

“It’s here.” He murmured softly, his tone devoid of any emotion.

He slowly stood up, looked around, his gaze sweeping over the unfinished experiment records on the desk, the potion cauldrons placed against the wall, and the neatly arranged magic books on the bookshelf.

His expression was deep and complex, as if conducting a final review of the place where he had worked countless days and nights.

To be honest, he wasn't sure how Voldemort would treat him. However, he had already made up his mind that if things really came to the worst, he would definitely not surrender this time.

A moment later, Snape flicked his black robes and left Hogwarts with resolute steps.

After a familiar sensation of squeezing, he found himself in a dim alley. To the left of the alley was a low, messy thicket of thorns, the branches tangled and exuding desolation. To the right were neatly trimmed, tall hedges, the boundary between the two distinct, vaguely revealing a certain stern order.

Without hesitation, he turned right, stepped out of the narrow alley, onto a wide road, and then proceeded along the tall hedges.

Before long, an imposing manor gate appeared before him.

A tall wizard stood in front of the gate, and after seeing Snape, said in a hoarse voice.

“Severus Snape, the Dark Lord has asked me to receive you, follow me.”

Voldemort sending someone to meet him was a reasonably good sign.

“Avery.” Snape felt a slight relief. He nodded, as a greeting, and then followed the other man through the iron gate towards the depths of the manor.

At the end of the straight path, an imposing mansion appeared in the night, the diamond-shaped glass of the windows revealing bright lights.

The gravel road made a slight crunching sound as Snape and Avery walked one after the other towards the main entrance. Just as they approached the door, before anyone could be seen, the heavy door silently opened inwards, as if silently welcoming their arrival.

The foyer was decorated with great luxury, the floor covered with magnificent carpets, the sound of footsteps completely absorbed, leaving only the faint rustle of clothing.

The two stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, the doorknob adorned with intricate bronze carvings.

Avery glanced sideways at Snape: “Please, don’t keep the Dark Lord waiting.”

Snape expressionlessly reached out and turned the bronze handle. The door creaked open gently, revealing the entirety of the living room.

The room was unusually quiet. People were seated around a long table, each silent, their lowered gazes and intertwined fingers betraying a hint of repression and unease.

“Severus,” a clear voice sounded from the head of the table, “Come closer, come to my side.”

Looking at Snape approaching, Voldemort's face revealed a playful smile: “I thought you had completely abandoned me and joined Dumbledore's ranks.”

“My Lord,” Snape bowed, then looked directly into the other's eyes, “I have always been waiting for your triumphant return. My loyalty has never changed.”

“Is that so?” Voldemort tugged at the corners of his mouth, twisting them into a strange smile, “Then why did you not respond to the call of the Dark Mark until today?”

Snape responded softly: “In fact, on the night of your return, I wanted to secretly contact you, my Lord, but Sebastian didn't quite trust me. After he returned to Hogwarts, he very rarely stayed overnight at the school. His stated reason was to take care of the Savior, but I knew he was monitoring me.”

“Severus,” at the end of the long table, a Death Eater glared at Snape, “Don’t mention that name. He can sense it. Do you want that person to know the Dark Lord's location?”

“Oh?” Snape looked at the other and retorted, “Then what should I call him?”

“To be safe, you should use that person or Dragon Man to replace him.”

“As far as I know, he only cast a spell on his full name,” Snape's lips curled into a mocking arc, “If you used your brain, you should realize that that person is a Hogwarts professor. Countless students will call him Professor Swann. In addition, most professors will directly call him by his name, Sebastian. Unless he wants to be annoyed to death, there won't be a situation where a first name or a last name alone will cause him to sense it.”

Voldemort waved his hand to stop the argument between the two: “It doesn't matter. Even if Sebastian knows I am at Malfoy Manor, it doesn't matter. He doesn't have the nerve to come and cause me trouble.”

“Severus, aren't you very good friends? Why would he monitor you?”

“My Lord,” Snape once again met the red eyes, “Sebastian is a very hypocritical fellow. As soon as he came to work at Hogwarts, he snatched the power of Head of Slytherin House from my hands, sidelining me. The reason is very simple, he felt that I had been poisoned by your ideas, my Lord, and had made a mess of Slytherin.”

“There are many parents present who have children in Slytherin House, and they can attest to the truth of what I say.”

Hearing this, Lucius and the others nodded subconsciously, obviously quite agreeing with this statement.

“In addition, over the years, he has never given up testing me. The most typical example is directly handing the Savior over to me, asking me to pass on everything I have learned to that child.”

“Before this, every summer he would have that child follow me for special training, whether it was potions or spells. He even had me teach that child my signature spell, Sectumsempra. The funny thing is, he clearly learned that spell from me during the school year. He could have taught it himself. The only reason he did this was to test whether I had become a so-called good person as he wished.”

“What's even more ridiculous,” Snape sneered, “Starting this summer, he won't let the Savior study with me anymore, the reason being that it's not safe enough.”