Blessing Potion [Comprehensive British and American]

Cyril hugged the dean, and both knelt and sat on the ground.

The cold wind in January rolled up the snow-white shirt on the ground and threw it away again.

The two of them remained motionless as if they didn't feel the cold at all.

Snape buried his head in Cyril's neck, this was the first time this man appeared in front of Cyril in such a weak posture.Cyril was a little at a loss for a moment, but couldn't help feeling weak again.

The slender hands gently covered the big pale hands, and the left arm was under the big hands.

Snape's fingers on his arm were still trembling slightly, he didn't know whether it was pain or excitement.Cyril passed his fingers through the wizard's fingers one by one, and then separated them from his arm. The two hands became a gesture similar to clasping fingers, and then exposed the marked part of the arm. Location.

Cyril wrapped one arm around Snape's shoulder, held his hand with the other, and looked down at the arm that had been blocked by him.

It was a perfectly healthy arm except for a little too much pallor.

The muscles are well-proportioned and firm, and the lines are smooth. Because of the sweating, it looks full of strength and the breath of an adult male.

Cyril tried to open her eyes wide, blinked, and blinked again.

There was a crystal clear teardrop flowing from the gray-green eyes, this was like the beginning, one drop or two...Tears ran across the cheeks in big ones, and then fell on Snape's smooth arms.

"Dean... Dean, removed... succeeded..."

Cyril felt his head move in the crest of his neck.

Slowly, the wizard got up from Cyril's arms, and Cyril couldn't see his expression clearly because he was too close. Snape didn't let go of his right hand, but raised his left arm first. .

After a while, the wizard slowly released his right hand from the opponent's hand and stroked it up.

The sequence seemed to be in slow motion, with a half-smile, half-cry expression on Snape's face.

"You did it..." the wizard said hoarsely.

"Well, Dean, it was removed." Cyril sniffed and showed a silly smile, tears still hanging on his face.

Snape's big hands cupped the boy's face, thumbs brushing the tears from his cheeks and eyes.

"Don't cry. You did it." The wizard could only murmur and repeat.

Probably because the action accidentally touched the wound on Cyril's left wrist, the boy flinched reflexively.

Snape raised Cyril's left hand gently in silence, and an unusually deep gash lay across the boy's slender wrist.

The scarlet one is extremely abrupt and dazzling.

Snape poked forward with his thumb, as if wanting to touch it, but retracted his finger halfway.

Finally, with this movement, Snape pulled Cyril into his arms.

Cyril buried her face on the Dean's shoulder, and whispered: "You will be free from now on. This is my birthday present to you... I want you to be free, you don't have to wear long sleeves all year round, you can do Anything you want to do..."

Snape didn't answer, just tightened his arms.

"Mithril knives leave scars, you idiot..." Snape's words, as light as a sigh, reached Cyril's ears.

"It's worth it for a scar to give you a new life." Cyril sniffled and snorted.

Snape had a thousand words in his mind that he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to get the words out.What Cyril removed was not an ugly and terrible mark, but a haze that lingered in his entire life.

He never dreamed that one day he could get rid of the Dark Mark.

Young and frivolous, branded this imprint.

The 18-year-old self proudly regards this mark as a proof and recognition of his strength, but after peeling off the shiny shell and seeing the corrupt and festering core, he has no turning back.

How proud and eager I was, how painful and desperate I am now.This mark is like a tarsal maggot.He has resigned himself to it, and he will carry it with him until he dies.

Until the little troll...

"I'll come back to look for medicine... There should be a way..." Snape's heart trembled, but he whispered something insignificant.

"No need, it's okay for a boy to have a scar, I always feel that I'm too delicate..." Cyril said sullenly on his shoulder.

In the next second, the boy felt that his wrist was lifted again, and a warm, soft and moist touch was about to leave his wound.

Gently stinging, a little numb and a little itchy.

……

The entire rooftop fell silent like this...until Ping An suddenly lifted his head from Cyril's lap.

"Oops! Peace!"

Cyril hurriedly withdrew from the dean's arms to look at the big guy standing aside shaking his hair.

"Dean, Ping An seems to have eaten your Dark Mark just now... Look at its tail!"

Cyril hastily pulled Ping An's big head, if it wasn't for the tail not being able to move around, he would have held the tail and handed it to Snape for him to see.

Snape froze for a moment, then used his wand to conjure two robes to wrap him and Cyril, squatted close to the big blue-green guy, and observed with a frown.

Pingan squatted on the stone floor with his back feet, slightly shaking his big tail behind him, and when his little master finally noticed it, he grinned happily, revealing half of the tip of his blue-green tongue.

Xi Ruier carefully looked at its big warm eyes, wet nose, and flat face... Then he was caught off guard and licked by Ping An's big tongue.

"You mean he swallowed the mark, and the inverted triangle at the tip of his tail turned black?"

Snape asked strangely.

"Yes... why does it always like to eat such weird things..." Cyril wiped the drool on his face, and then lifted Ping An's eyelids.

Snape looked around, first closed the glass dome, and then began to cast the inspection spell on Peace.

"Actually, I still think your pet is perfectly fine, in fact..." Snape looked at the green light reflected from Ping'an's body due to the inspection spell, paused, and continued: "In fact, it seems Just no problem."

"What about the triangle on its tail? Is it a souvenir?" Cyril was speechless.

"If you insist on thinking so."

The wizard packed up the things on the ground—in fact, it was just a leather book and clothes.

After the magic circle was used, all the crystal stones and painted patterns turned into dust and dissipated in the air.

"Come on, Cyril, take your pet. It's 12 o'clock, it's time to go to bed."

Snape said to Cyril in a rare and gentle way, and then pulled up the boy who was "embracing affectionately" with his big pet on the ground.

……

The next day.

When Cyril woke up, it was already 11 o'clock in the morning. He rubbed his eyes, surprised that no one woke him up so late.

He was stunned by the unusual touch on his left hand.

His wrists were bandaged.

The problem was that his wrist wasn't like this before he went to bed last night.

Last night, I and Dean Snape returned to the second floor wrapped in robes. The dean didn't say anything more all the way, but sent himself to the bedroom first. The wizard's expression was much calmer than on the rooftop, and he looked calm of.

Snape, wrapped in black robes, first cast a waterproof spell on Cyril's wrists, and then waited for him to take a shower.

The wizard who sat in the armchair in Cyril's bedroom did not speak or leave until he was sure that Cyril, who was wearing Pikachu pajamas and slippers after taking a shower, did not wet his wound, and then closed the door and said "good night".

Then... Cyril fell asleep by herself.

And it looks like she slept quite dead...

……

Snape was sitting on a chair in the boy's room. This was the first time he had entered the boy's room in the McLean Manor.

The soft carpet under your feet, and the floor-to-ceiling windows opposite.

A large bed that looks very comfortable, off-white furniture, and a variety of pillows.

Snape looked back at the thing behind his eyes, which was of course a pillow - not surprising.

Take a closer look, oh, it's that stupid penguin.

It's exactly the same as the penguin in my living room.

The little troll went in to take a bath, and he didn't know why he didn't want to leave.

Maybe he wanted to spend a little longer in this room full of little trolls.

The room felt the way the troll himself had made him feel, relaxed, refreshed, healed,... home.

Snape thought wildly, if he had a "home", he might be reluctant to ask the little troll to come over and help arrange it.

Then I was quickly surprised that he would start to have such thoughts about "home".

The black-haired black-eyed wizard gently opened the sleeves of his robe.

He was wearing a black loose robe, which was deformed in a hurry just now to keep himself and the little monster warm.

The black sleeves were slowly pulled up, revealing clean arms.

Snape stared at his pale skin for a moment, and was stunned.

That's it...removed?

It all seemed so unreal.

like a miracle...

No no, in fact, the little troll is a miracle in itself!

Snape unconsciously hooked the corners of his mouth, caressing that piece of skin that he had never wanted to touch for 8 years.

"Look, Dean! It's not wet."

A boy in yellow pajamas with an unknown monster pattern came out of the bathroom, with hot steam, and small drops of water hanging from his crow-feather eyelashes, he yawned and moved closer to Snape.

The wrist protruding from the sleeve was white and slender, and the wound was still glaring, but it looked like it had a faint tendency to heal.

Snape suddenly remembered that he was in the magic circle just now, he couldn't move, his arm was covered with the blood of the little troll, and he panicked for a moment.

"Go to sleep, get some sleep," Snape heard himself say.

"Okay, you go to bed early, too."

Staring at the little troll, he kicked off the yellow and strange-shaped shoes in pajamas (Chapter 90 of Guidance), rubbing into the quilt like a mollusk.

"Good night, Master. I wish you sweet dreams."

"Good night."

Snape closed the door and walked down to the basement.