A pale hand shot out and snatched up the quill, swiftly scratching out the last line on the parchment before continuing:
"At the critical moment, the 'Clown' fell into a panic over lost memories, plunging his spirituality into chaos and triggering a complete loss of self-control. Even his soul dissipated in the turmoil — not a single useful piece of information was leaked."
"While this did stoke that woman's curiosity, she had no intention of getting involved. It had nothing to do with her, after all. She found the Sparrow School's emblem on the 'Clown's' corpse, and intends to use it to attend a Sparrow School gathering and accomplish her own goal."
"Therefore, she will not return to Tingen until Ince Zangwill's plan is complete."
At that, several drops of blood fell onto the parchment. One-eyed Ince Zangwill wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his expression utterly blank. He knew this was the price of forcibly altering a Saint's consciousness.
Then the quill moved again: "But it seems Ince Zangwill has forgotten — just before she left, that woman handed Klein a scroll."
"Even if Ince Zangwill's plan proceeds without a hitch, when the day finally comes, how does he intend to achieve his goal with a Saint interfering? Ha ha ha ha ha!"
The distorted handwriting was soaked through with mockery.
Ince Zangwill murmured, "There will be a way. There has to be a way."
· ·
The Harry Potter world.
The "results" of the four kids' late-night castle expedition to search for the cat were painfully obvious: the moment they stepped outside Gryffindor's common room, they walked straight into a patrolling Snape.
After a particularly venomous round of sneering, the four of them collectively earned eighty house points in deductions and a week's detention — spending each day processing potion ingredients for that great bat of a man.
"Hermione, still no sign of Crookshanks?"
"No."
Hermione shook her head, deflated. On the second day after Crookshanks went missing, she'd heard that a Ravenclaw girl had come across a very pretty little cat the evening before.
She had thought it might be Crookshanks — but when she tracked the girl down, it turned out to be an entirely different cat.
"Don't worry, she'll be fine. She'll definitely come back," Neville said earnestly. "Every time Trevor disappears, he always turns up again by some miracle. Like yesterday — I spent the whole day searching, and at night I found him tucked under the duvet the whole time. Maybe you should go flip your bedding."
"..."
Hermione did not feel even slightly consoled.
"Harry, you haven't been to see Professor Vincent these past two days, have you?" Ron straightened up and knuckled the small of his back. "I remember you saying you two were already close before you came to Hogwarts."
Harry shifted awkwardly. "But... but I betrayed him. He must absolutely hate me now."
"Betrayed?"
"What did you do?"
"Professor Vincent is in Slytherin, and I ended up in Gryffindor. Those two houses are sworn enemies — isn't that a kind of betrayal?"
Harry sighed. "I swear, when I was being Sorted, I told the Sorting Hat to put me in Slytherin. I said I didn't want Gryffindor, and it agreed — but it still sent me here anyway..."
He suddenly noticed the others staring at him with stiff expressions and quickly backtracked. "Right — sorry, I didn't mean anything bad about Gryffindor, I just meant — just —"
"You just think Slytherin's better, yeah?" Ron said flatly.
"What? I never said that!"
"Honestly. Never thought the bloke I walk to class with every day, sleep in the same dorm with, has been secretly pining for another house this whole time. Heartbreaking, really."
"Harry: ..."
"Ha! Just taking the mickey!"
Ron burst out laughing. "Harry, I reckon you're a born Gryffindor. How else could you manage to break the rules on your very first day?"
...Is that supposed to be a compliment to Gryffindor?
In the office just on the other side of the wall, Snape looked up at the uninvited Vincent Moriarty and said coldly, "What do you want?"
"I heard Harry and the others were put in detention. Came to check on them."
Vincent smiled pleasantly. "You're certainly aware, Professor, that I had quite a close relationship with that boy before he came to Hogwarts. He's always trusted me — we could talk about practically anything. If I weren't so young, I'd have wanted to be his godfather."
Snape's brow furrowed. Was there a trace of smugness in Moriarty's tone? What on earth was there to be smug about?
"Is that all?"
"Of course not."
Vincent shook his head. "The thing is, tomorrow I'll be teaching Slytherin's third-years for the first time. As you know, a few of those students have certain... misunderstandings about me. I'm worried they might try to cause trouble, so I thought I'd give you advance notice."
"Misunderstandings? You mean nearly poisoning their families?"
"Ah, that's all ancient history now. You know the truth of the matter better than anyone, Professor."
"..."
Snape was silent for several seconds, then resumed his usual venomous delivery: "So what exactly are you planning to do about them? Poison them again?"
"They're still so young. That would be far too easy on them."
"???"
"Joking."
"I didn't hear a joke."
"What a pity."
Vincent shrugged. "You know, Professor, if you'd had a bit more of a sense of humour back in the day, Harry might be going by the name Snape right now."
Snape snapped his wand out in one fluid motion and cast.
Bang!
A crimson armour of light erupted automatically across Vincent's body, deflecting the curse clean — it went crashing straight into the door of the potions storeroom, blasting it clean off its hinges.
"!!!"
The four kids jerked their heads up in terror — that door had missed their scalps by inches.
"Oh, sorry about that, everyone."
Vincent glanced back with a grin. "Professor Snape and I were just practising some magic. Off you go."
Snape coldly holstered his wand. "No one is going anywhere."
"Don't worry, Professor Snape is just messing around."
Vincent placed one hand on Harry's shoulder, his other arm sweeping Neville and Ron along, and herded all three of them out the door — completely ignoring Snape's thunderous expression.
Once they were a safe distance away, he asked casually, "By the way — how are those essays I assigned coming along?"
Hermione answered brightly, "Done, Professor." She couldn't resist adding, "I worked on it together with Sophie from Slytherin."
Neville ducked his head. Harry had completely forgotten the essay even existed. Ron said with rather transparent guilt, "Working on it, working on it, Professor."
"Lovely. Friendly reminder — don't let it be your fault that everyone misses Back to the Future Part II, alright?"
The three boys went pale.
Vincent was about to head off when something came to him. "Oh — Harry. You know what a face mask is? From the Muggle world?"
Harry gave a halting nod.
"Next time you see Professor Snape, try wearing one."
"...Why?"
Vincent winked and dropped his voice. "Because you have lovely eyes, and Professor Snape simply cannot get enough of them."
To be continued…