The day to become the final boss

Snape didn't spend the night in the medical wing, the foursome left almost all physical scars on his body, a few bottles of potion down completely solved the problem, as for the foursome - Snape conservatively estimated that the idiot Potter And Remus Lupine would have to endure at least a week more of the Medical Wing's uniquely flavored potions.

A malicious smile appeared on the lips of the black-haired Slytherin - he was very confident in the potion he had prepared himself.

Snape turned his attention to the elegant box on the desk.

He still remembers the expression on Lucius's face when he sent it as a visit, very—very unique?Snape raised his eyebrows. Although Lucius showed his aristocratic elegance and peacock glitter as always, those who were familiar with him could easily see different emotions in his eyes.

He opened the box, and inside was a book.

Very well, Lucius, an out-of-print book on black magic.

Snape liked the Dark Arts, he was convinced of that, but—an out-of-print Dark Arts book for visiting patients?

He rubbed the spine of the book with his fingers, and suddenly a pair of big golden eyes with vertical pupils popped up beside him.

"Oh, little Severus, where did you collect the rubbish again? Couldn't Ferrigues's collection satisfy your collection?"

"Trash, you call it rubbish?" Snape drew out his voice sarcastically, "Oh, yes, to the great Mr. Ferrigas, it's all rubbish except for the shiny and charming things .Speaking of collectivism—I remember your place was full of that bright stuff?"

"The whole world knows that dragons love treasures!" Ferriges put his paws on his waist, held his head high, and looked arrogant.

"It's a pity you're a lizard." Snape casually began to enjoy his book on the Dark Arts.

If it was in the past, he would have been ecstatic because of this out-of-print book, and he would have hidden it carefully as a treasure, trying to absorb it in an instant without sleeping or eating.

It's a pity that it is just a small icing on the cake now that Ferrigas has been exploited for a full 3 feet high of ancient magic books and precious notes.

"You nasty cub!" The little lizard angrily opened its mouthful of sharp teeth and hummed meaninglessly, "How many times have I told you that the great Ferrigues is not a lizard!" It disdains contemptuously, "The ones you collected are garbage, and the so-called black magic is just hell..."

It stopped suddenly, its mouth shut tightly.

A trace of doubt flashed in Snape's dark pupils.

Holding the book slowly, he said, "Please continue—"

Feligues stared at his eyes like glass beads, "Well, you have to listen to it—the so-called black magic was just a pastime among hell monsters back then."

Snape put the book down abruptly.

He stared at Ferrigues, staring hard, until the great pseudo-lizard wanted to stand up its scales.

"I thought—the so-called hell is just a stupid Muggle legend?" Snape's lowered voice was eerily silky, slowly, like a poisonous snake spitting out a letter.

"The ancient hell does exist, but it is too old. It is so old that most species have forgotten its majesty and fear of it." Ferrigues couldn't help moving his fingers, it missed dear hell.

"Ferrigas, I've never asked you before, where are you from?"

The lizard blinked its big eyes, licked its wide mouth with its pink and tender thin tongue, and said slyly, "My great master doesn't like us talking about this with humans, but I think you're smart enough?"

Snape was silent for a few seconds.

"I think I already know where you came from." He frowned. "Next question—who are you bound here?"

"This issue cannot even be discussed."

There was a longer silence this time.

"So, who is the great master in your mouth?"

The little lizard pointed at his mouth and made a movement of tightening the zipper.

Snape's brow furrowed even tighter.

"You can't say anything yet?"

"Everything except the great existence and the details of hell and ****." Ferrigues opened his mouth.

"And all but what?" Snape noticed it spoke two obscure syllables it had never heard before.

"A majestic and older sacred place, I can't say its name in any kind of words you can understand," Ferrigues's golden vertical pupils reflected the halo of inorganic matter, "I just I can tell you that hell is its appendage."

Snape gasped for breath.

"One last question—are you really a dragon?"

"Oh, praise the great master, the unlovely dark cub at last realizes the obvious truth,—yes, great, majestic, noble, strong, every scale is The perfect Ferrigues is the noble dragon, the most noble!" (Please use a dramatic aria.)

Snape: "...I see, you're just a lizard." ==

Another few months passed.

Snape frowned at the black magic book in his hand.

It's the black magic book again, this is already the third book, one book a month, what exactly does Lucius want to do?

Or is there something hidden behind it?

Picking up a piece of incensed high-grade parchment, which was sent along with the book by the golden statue of the Malfoy family - "Severus Snape is sincerely invited to join us at Malfoy Manor."

Snape touched the smooth cover of the book and turned to the first page. There was a gorgeous cursive "V" in the lower left corner of the well-maintained paper.