Blessing Potion [Comprehensive British and American]

When I recalled writing this sentence, I paused for a long time, and then the picture became messy again.

This time it was a completely dark place, and Cyril wasn't sure if he had gotten into a wardrobe or a closet or something.A hoarse voice mechanically repeated a sentence: "The one with the power to conquer the Dark Lord is approaching... born in a family that defeated the Dark Lord three times... born at the end of the seventh month... the Dark Lord The head marks him as a rival, but he has powers that the Dark Lord doesn't understand...one must die at the hands of the other, because both can't live, only one survives...the one who has the power to conquer the Dark Lord To be born at the end of the seventh month..."

There was a sudden commotion, and it turned out that he was not in a cabinet but outside the door.The dark corridor gave the eavesdroppers a good cover. Dumbledore opened the door and chased out with his wand. The final picture was fixed on the back of the black-robed wizard leaving in a panic.

When Cyril realized it, he found that he had come to a hillside that he had never been to before. The dusty young man half-kneeled beside Principal Dumbledore, took off the strange mask on his face, lowered his head and begged with sobs: "Please, Protect her. The Dark Lord is already making this a priority..."

"Why do I believe you? You know, half a month ago, the McKinnons said they saw you during an attack." Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds, and said coldly.

"I can swear, bet my life, magic power and all my faith..."

As soon as the words were finished, Snape suddenly tore open his left sleeve, and used his wand to cut a strange black tattoo on his pale forearm viciously until the arm became bloody and the pattern became fragmented.

Cyril screamed from the side, and then covered her mouth with the palm of her hand.

Dumbledore watched the young man's violent actions, but said nothing.Pulling out his strangely shaped magic wand, a white light softly enveloped the young man's left arm, and the wound healed quickly.

When the treatment was about to be completed, a sudden change occurred, and a black mist whizzed out from the arm, swallowing the soft light fiercely, and the ugly pattern was stubbornly branded on the original place on the arm, and everything was nothing like before different.

Snape looked at his arm with a dead face, motionless.

"Look, your life, magic power, and faith... that's it. What's the use... This is the age of war. What can you do?" The young man looked up at the amiable man standing in front of him. The headmaster, the current leader of the Order of the Phoenix, replied softly, "Anything."

Shocked by the deep sea in Snape's eyes, Cyril felt his body take two steps back on the spot because of the light-sounding "anything", and finally froze there together with Snape.

The ground began to collapse, the picture in front of him was frozen, and then fell apart.Desiree felt like he had fallen into an abyss.

At the end of the abyss is the Hogwarts headmaster's office.

Still only Dumbledore and Snape.

It would not be an exaggeration to describe Snape in front of him as a corpse.The wizard was haggard, his body thinner than last time, supporting his dirty black robe full of mud marks, like a skeleton with only skin.

His hair was disheveled and tangled on top of his head, his hands covered his cheeks, and he looked like he was breathing nothing.

Dumbledore was also very depressed. The centenarian sat decadently behind his desk, his chin resting on his hands, and a cup of black coffee in front of him.

"I'm sorry...my child..." the old man spoke slowly, took off his half-moon glasses and wiped them lightly, with tears glistening in his blue eyes.

Snape sat motionless in his chair, like a statue.After a while, a rough voice came from the palm: "Why?"

"They believed in the wrong person, someone betrayed them."

"Aren't they best brothers?! Or is this Gryffindor friendship???!"

Snape exploded, stood up and roared angrily, shaking because of the excessive force.

"People are unpredictable..."

"Ah."

"Where are you going?"

"My mission is done, now I'm going where I'm supposed to be..."

"No, you can't go." Dumbledore tried his best to maintain a peaceful tone, and stopped the young man who looked like he would collapse at any moment.

"What else can I do? Collect the corpse? They won't even let me near Lily's tomb..." Snape twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a half-smile, half-cry smile.

"Lily's son...Harry..."

"That's Potter's son. Don't tell me about him! He's the one who killed his mother! Lily was so young, so smart..."

Snape yelled violently, turned around abruptly and raised his wand to point it at Dumbledore, but then he became muttering again, and lowered his raised arm.

Dumbledore looked back at the grief-stricken wizard sadly, without moving a muscle.

Cyril stood in the corner, looked at the crazy professor opposite, and slowly sat on the ground with his legs crossed. He couldn't feel the temperature in his memory, but at this moment he felt that his whole body was protected from the cold, the bone-chilling cold.

So Lily is still dead. During the war years, Benny should have lived in England but rushed to China.

"That's Lily's child too, the person she loves the most. You haven't seen Harry yet... He has the same big emerald eyes as Lily." Dumbledore brought back his glasses and paused every word emphasize.

"Then what's my business?" Snape asked uncontrollably.

"You and I both know that man...he just disappeared, not to mention himself, his remnant party..." Dumbledore spoke slowly, considering his expression.

Snape slowly closed his mouth, which was panting violently, and stood frozen in the shadow of the bookshelf, like a silhouette, or a black rock, silently waiting for himself to be weathered.

After a long time, about as long as a century, the black figure moved slightly.

"I see."

A word of great indifference and a door that opens and closes.

Dumbledore was still sitting in his chair, staring at the black coffee in front of him.

The surrounding bookcases reaching the roof began to twist and stretch, and the portraits on the wall began to jump.All the surrounding scenes were spinning, and Cyril had to get up from the ground, looking at the increasingly bizarre scenes around him.

In circles of rotating and twisting apertures of various colors, memory after memory jumped to Cyril one after another like a movie replay.

The haggard Snape half-kneeled at Dumbledore's feet and scratched his arm fiercely with a curse...

The pale Snape wrote warning letters one after another...

Snape handed the potion to the platinum-haired wizard...

Lily was crying on the lawn, and the young Snape walked into the castle without looking back...

Night of the werewolf, running desperately...

Brawl in the Room of Requirement...

A Slytherin student distracted in class...

Holding a small flower with Lily in the park and looking bright...

A figure squatting in the basement crying...

Scenes appeared in front of my eyes and turned into dust.

"Lily...sorry..." A soft sigh.

Cyril stood on the carpet of the Slytherin head's bedroom again, with the crystal ball that he accidentally touched beside him.

The silver smoke in the crystal ball is still spinning rapidly.

A big dream.