Slytherin's salvation is nothingness

In the dim room, a kerosene lamp struggled to resist the invasion of darkness. A thin man wrapped in black clothes sat alone on a fluffy, worn-out sofa. His shoulder-length hair covered most of his face, as well as his tall, aquiline nose. The whole room was silent except for the sound of bubbles coming from the crucible from time to time.

The man stared at the boiling crucible through his greasy hair, which was damaged by the potion, and there was no trace of emotion in his dark eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he took a shower or the last time he ate. Except for teaching at school, he confined himself to this dark room during the holidays.

It seemed like he was punishing himself, but he was happy with it. Except for going out when necessary to eat and purchase medicinal materials, he spent the whole day researching and making potions. He is full of love for potions and enjoys the wonderful reactions caused by the mixing of various medicinal materials when brewing potions. Potions have been with him all his life, but now, perhaps only the potions are left.

The man stood up, his chest rising and falling slightly. Although the dizziness caused by not eating for too long hit him quickly, he quickly picked up the potion in the cauldron, put on his coat and left the room. Since school was on holiday, he had never had the habit of storing ingredients, so he could only go out and buy some sandwiches to fill his stomach.

The sky was dark, and drizzle fell one after another. The humid air was filled with the smell of garbage. Although the man didn't care, his frown deepened. He cast a rain-proof spell and walked quickly on the narrow and dark path. Fortunately, there were very few people on the road because of the rain. He was more content to stay in that dilapidated house that he thought he couldn't even call home than to have meaningless social interactions with stupid people. His face became darker and his pace quickened.

Suddenly, the man's keen sense of smell caught a hint of the smell of blood, and then the smell of blood became stronger and stronger. He stopped suddenly and bent slightly, the wand in the cuff of his right hand already clenched. Obviously this alley is not as safe as Diagon Alley, and curses came one after another. "It's probably just a few drunkards fighting each other." The man snorted and turned around to leave. He was not interested in what was happening here. However, the moment he took the step, a shrill dog bark reached his ears, and before he could react, an extremely strong magic riot came from behind him.

The men who were cursing one after another suddenly fell silent, and were replaced by the sound of "Boom! Boom! Boom!" of broken stones. You can still vaguely hear intermittent, melodious but sad humming. The man could not hear the humming clearly, but its rhythm was melodious and poignant. The voice was childish and obviously did not come from the men who were scolding him more and more violently. The man's whole body tensed up, and he raised his wand, his dark pupils trembling slightly. There were rubbish scattered everywhere in the alley, among which four men were lying on the ground. They still had angry expressions on their bodies, and their fists were still in the posture of striking forward. But they all stood still on the ground without any movement. The knocking didn't stop, and a thin figure sat on one of the men.

Child? The child hummed an unknown tune slightly, grabbed the stones on the ground with both hands, and beat the fallen man on the face again and again. Transparent raindrops dripped down her body and turned into scarlet liquid on the ground. There was an injured puppy lying not far away from the child. It looked at the child and whined. It wasn't until the man's face on the ground was completely shattered that the child slowly stood up. He walked tremblingly to the other fallen man and continued to hit his face with stones while humming intermittently.

Severus Snape frowned and stared at the child who was covered in blood and beat the man on the ground over and over again not far away. Without unnecessary movements or words, he hit the opponent's temple with the stone accurately every time. She looked very calm, almost expressionless. Snape stared closely at the thin figure. She was wrapped in a dirty old clothes that looked like a sack, her hair was cut very short, and her feet were bare. A child younger than a first-year wizard was...killing people.

He hesitated to intervene. The child was very dangerous. But the magical riot just now was obviously caused by her. What did she do? When Snape picked up his wand and prepared to cast the spell on the unconscious child, he noticed that the child's waist was also covered in blood. Damn it! If the bleeding doesn't stop soon, she will soon be unable to support herself.

Snape turned the child over, and his dark eyes met a pair of bright red eyes. Those eyes seemed to have magical power, firmly controlling Snape's gaze, making him unable to move. Immediately afterwards, he felt a stinging pain coming from his thigh, and he was petrified! The child didn't stop, he grabbed the stone that fell on the ground and swung it hard towards Snape's temple. Suddenly, the child felt a huge force blowing him away and hit the opposite wall.

She tried her best to stand up, but her eyes were already bloodshot, and the warm and pungent blood gradually blurred her vision. When he fell to the ground again, the child did not look at the man who finally attacked him. Instead, he tried to open his eyes and found the puppy in the corner who was also watching him in the gradually blurring scene. The last glimmer of light disappeared from her eyes, replaced by emptiness and silence.

"Angus..." Severus Snape swore that this was his most unlucky and stupidest day. He actually wanted to save a murderer out of a soft heart, but was attacked by this bigger murderer. He limped and frantically searched for mandrakes in his medicine cabinet, his left leg still petrified. Fortunately, this child's magic power was severely overdrawn, and he responded quickly. Otherwise now he would be one of those plaster statues filling the streets. Unfortunately, undoing the petrification required mature mandrakes, and he didn't have any in stock.

Snape glanced at the little girl lying on the ground. The bandaged wound on her body had stopped bleeding. Her breathing was steady, but she was still in a comatose state. Snape snorted and closed the collection cabinet hard. He limped and sat on the fluffy sofa opposite the little girl, staring at her with the wand in his hand, observing her carefully. In addition to wounds on her waist and eyes, her face, limbs and even her back were covered with bruises and elongated scars. Her hair was cut short, she was malnourished and her cheeks were sunken. Maybe only five or six years old. If her wounds hadn't been treated just now, her gender would have been impossible to identify.

Snape, who kept his wand pointed at the little girl, walked to the fireplace and prepared to contact Dumbledore. Of course, such a big trouble must be left to the greatest white wizard. Thinking of the old man pretending to be confused after chewing sweets all day long, Snape showed a trace of ridicule and sneer on his face. However, at this time, the little girl's body began to tremble slightly, and her reaction became stronger and stronger. Are you having a nightmare? She is about to wake up. Snape quickly positioned himself in front of the little girl, his wand pointed at her.

"Angus!!!" Cold sweat oozed from the girl's forehead. She suddenly sat up, and the traction from the wound made her move much slower. Then, she felt her eyes being covered, and as soon as she raised her hand, a wand was placed on her neck. "If you still want to save your head, put your hands down." The voice was low and magnetic, irresistible, and sounded a little trance-like. Snape noticed that the little girl's movements were obviously stiff, and then slowly lowered her hands, but she still tensed her body, as if she was ready to fight at any time. However, the movement fell extremely slowly and forcelessly.

"If - the organs in your neck can still work normally, you should be able to clearly feel the effect of relaxation." Seeing her no reaction, Snape returned to the sofa and sat down. His left leg was numb and he was in constant pain. However, he kept his eyes on the little girl, and strangely she seemed very calm. It can even be said that there are no mood swings at all.

Snape kept asking questions, but the little girl didn't give any answers. It's like you can't hear it. Snape's face became increasingly gloomy, and he couldn't get any answer from the little girl even after asking questions. If he hadn't checked before, he would have thought the child was deaf or mute. He felt like he was being teased by this child, his brows furrowed and his cold tone became even more unkind.

"That dog..." Snape said in a low voice, and before he could finish speaking, he saw the girl's hand twitch. He remembered the name the girl shouted before she woke up, and sneered mockingly: "So you are not deaf, but mute. Even your pet has a name, but you don't. Just call it Silence!" Snee! Pu felt that he had seen an illusion, because the girl actually nodded slightly after hearing this sentence. He felt very strange that the girl's eyes were full of danger and she was unable to communicate normally.

Letting her go might mean a whole street full of plaster statues tomorrow. At this moment, he couldn't contact anyone else right away. He is now very irritable and can feel the numbness in his left leg gradually spreading to his thigh. Snape was confronting the girl like this, knowing that as long as he relaxed a little, she would never let go of any opportunity. However, as his petrification progressed, he said:

"If you can still move, get out of here! Go back to where you came from! I don't think a dog is smart enough to find you..."

Time goes back to 3 hours ago. Snape broke free from the control of the girl's eyes and heard the sound of someone approaching in the distance. He dragged one leg to pick up the little girl and left immediately. He looked at the puppy lying on the ground. The injury was not fatal. At this time, he himself could not take into account other dangers. The puppy howled wildly as it watched the man take the little girl away. Snape cast aside his bored and dangerous gaze: "Noisy beast! What a nuisance...".