November 1st, 3:00 PM.
The dungeon office door stood half-open, a sliver of ghastly white light leaking through the crack.
Evelyn stood at the doorway, her right hand poised in midair.
Before she could even knock, the door opened from within.
Snape’s face appeared in the frame.
His complexion matched the exact shade of the jars preserved in formaldehyde lined up behind him.
“You are thirty seconds late!”
“I was admiring your interior decor from the doorway, Professor,” Evelyn said with a straight face.
“Who picked your drapes?
A funeral home designer?”
Snape stepped aside to let her pass, his black robes sweeping past the tip of her nose.
“Sit!”
Only two sconces lit the office.
Shadows on the stone walls cut the specimen jars into jagged black silhouettes of varying heights.
A straight-backed wooden chair stood near the window.
Its legs were anchored to the floor by magic, completely immobile.
Evelyn sat down, the rigid back digging into her shoulder blades.
Snape rounded his desk, produced a small glass vial, and set it dead center on the tabletop.
Inside lay a sliver of silver-grey metal fragment.
The curved glass reflected the outline of Evelyn tilting her head.
“Recognize this?”
“A candle fragment.”
“A candle fragment wouldn’t have etched markings on it!”
Snape flicked the vial with his index finger, sending the fragment rolling halfway around the bottom.
“Precision machining like this cannot be produced by any workshop in the wizarding world!”
Evelyn tilted her head, looking as curious as if she were examining a museum exhibit.
“Professor, appraising metals during work hours…
does Hogwarts reimburse your testing fees?”
Snape ignored the jab.
He stood up, rounded the desk, and walked over to stand in front of Evelyn.
The distance between them closed to two feet.
The sconce light cast harsh shadows across his cheek, highlighting a nose angled sharp as a knife edge.
“Valentine, I have a few questions for you.”
“Go ahead, Professor.”
“That day in the bathroom, what method did you use to deal with the troll?”
“I told you, by the time I arrived, the troll had already turned into a pig.”
“Are you familiar with the Weasley brothers’ recipe for their ‘Transfiguration Bomb’?”
“Trade secret.
I have no idea.”
“That metal weapon in your robes—where did it come from?”
“What weapon?”
“On the floor tiles of the first-floor corridor, there were numerous spent shell casings.”
Snape’s voice dropped low, enunciating every syllable with crystal clarity.
“Brass material, firing pin indentations at the base.
In over thirty years of life, I have never seen any form of magic capable of creating such things!”
Evelyn: (ꐦˇ᷄∀᷅;)
*When on earth did he pick up those shell casings?*
“Professor, those might be teaching props from Muggle Studies.”
“Muggle Studies isn’t taught on the first floor, nor do teaching props appear at a crime scene!”
Snape dragged a chair over and sat directly across from her.
The two chairs faced each other, knees almost touching.
Leaning forward, his glare bore down on her.
“One last question.”
“Professor, your posture looks an awful lot like a cop interrogating a suspect on Muggle television.”
“What, exactly, are you hiding in that brain of yours?”
Evelyn blinked.
“Brain fluid?”
Snape raised his wand, pointing the tip directly at the center of her forehead.
“Legilimency!”
Evelyn didn’t dodge.
She sat up straight, an infuriating smirk hanging at the corner of her lips.
The moment the spell hit, an icy force pierced through her skull.
It felt as though an invisible hand had pried open the lid of her head and was rummaging inside.
Snape’s consciousness flooded into her mind.
A pitch-black tunnel unfurled before him, blurry fragments of light and shadow sweeping past on both sides.
He prepared to search among these fragments for his answers.
Then, he saw the pigs!
The first bright pink pig bounded out from the end of the tunnel.
It wore a neon-green workout tank top, ribbons tied around each of its front hooves.
Right in front of Snape, it did a jumping jack. Get faster updates on g.com.
Snape: (ꐦ⊙Д⊙;)
Immediately after, a pig wearing a red sun visor and holding a folding fan in its mouth popped out from the left.
A third, a fourth, a fifth…
The pink pigs lined up in neat square formations, spaced apart to the exact millimeter.
Her entire mindscape was filled with a suffocating sea of pink!
Music blasted out.
A high-energy, booming public square dance anthem erupted from the center of the formation!
The rhythm bounced wildly throughout the psychic space.
The first row raised their right hooves in unison, the second row kicked their left legs, every movement perfectly synchronized.
Folding fans whirled fancy patterns in the air while neon vests flashed in the pink mist.
Even the height to which they raised their hoof-tips was identical down to the millimeter!
Snape tried to bypass the pig array to search for actual memories.
His consciousness shifted left, and the pig array shifted left with him.
He darted right, and the array darted right.
He tried to leap over them from above, but the five pigs in the front row threw back their heads simultaneously, forming a solid wall of pink flesh.
With their hooves facing outward, each sole was stamped with a line of text: [NO THOROUGHFARE.
PLEASE ENJOY THE PERFORMANCE.]
Snape: (ꐦ눈Д눈;)
He increased the intensity of his Legilimency.
His consciousness condensed into an awl, driving hard into a gap.
The awl struck the belly of the first pig.
The pig’s belly possessed astounding elasticity, repelling the awl instantly!
The backlash of the impact carried a sickly sweet scent of rose perfume—identical to the smell of a potion accident on his own robes!
The dance anthem switched tracks, the tempo speeding up even further.
The pig formation shifted ranks: the front row executed arm waves while the back row performed high kicks.
Two lead pigs in the middle were even doing mid-air splits.
On the face of one lead pig, a massive hooked nose had been drawn.
When Snape saw that giant hooked nose, the veins in his temples throbbed violently.
Evelyn sat in her chair, watching Snape’s wand-bearing hand begin to tremble.
His face shifted from pale to purplish red.
Veins bulged at his forehead, and sweat rolled down his sideburns.
Thirty seconds passed, and the professor’s breathing grew heavy and ragged.
Evelyn: (≖ω≖)
At forty-five seconds, Snape jerked his wand away violently!
The moment the connection snapped, he recoiled backward.
The legs of his chair scraped harshly against the stone floor, producing an ear-splitting screech.
He gripped the desk edge fiercely, fingers digging into the wood grain, his lips twitching uncontrollably.
A dead silence fell over the office.
“Professor?” Evelyn tilted her head.
“You don’t look so good.
Should I go fetch Madam Pomfrey?”
“Shut up!”
Snape sank back into his chair, pressing hard against his left temple.
It throbbed frantically, a sharp pain radiating from his eye socket all the way to the back of his head.
What drove him even more insane was that the public dance song was still playing on an endless loop in his mind—he couldn’t shake it off at all!
Snape: (angry expression)
“How could you possibly have…
*that kind of thing* inside your head?”
“What kind of thing?”
“Don’t play dumb, Valentine!” Snape’s voice snapped upward.
“What was with those pigs?”
“Ah, are you referring to my mental defense?”
“Mental defense?!”
Snape dragged his fingers heavily across the desk.
“That is psychological pollution!
Right now, my head is full of pink pigs dancing!”
“Which means you got to enjoy a fantastic performance, Professor.
I choreographed the second song myself.”
Gritting his teeth, Snape stood up and rummaged through a drawer to pull out a potion for headaches.
The stopper creaked loudly as he opened it.
He downed two massive gulps, the potion dribbling down the corner of his mouth and staining his collar.
Evelyn crossed her legs, scraping the sole of her boot against the floor.
The system panel flashed frantically at the edge of her field of vision:
[Mischief Points +200!
Reason: Severus Snape suffered severe psychological pollution!]
[Mischief Points +80!
Reason: Successfully resisted Legilimency interrogation!]
[Current Total: 2,740.]
Snape set down the potion bottle and stared into Evelyn’s eyes for a long time.
Those eyes were completely clear, carrying an eager look that practically asked, “Do you want to try again?” This chapter is updated first at novelping.com.
“Where did you learn Occlumency?”
“Self-taught.”
“Occlumency has an extraordinarily high bar; even few adult wizards master it!”
“Which proves I’m quite talented, Professor.
You’re welcome to compliment me.”
“I am asking you who taught you!”
“A book.
From the Restricted Section of the library.
I forgot the title.”
“Who signed your permission slip?”
“Professor Lockhart.”
Snape’s temples throbbed twice more.
That fool Lockhart signed slips without ever using his brain.
He sat back down in his chair, folding his hands on the desk.
“Valentine.”
“Present.”
“I do not know what on earth is packed inside that brain of yours—be it pink pigs or ballet.”
Snape’s voice dropped.
“But I will get to the bottom of what those metal fragments are.”
He picked up the vial and raised it toward the sconce light.
“Along with those spent shell casings, that weapon, and the reason why you show up everywhere you shouldn’t be.”
Evelyn stood up, smoothing the wrinkles on her robes.
“Professor, once you figure it out, feel free to let me know the results.
I’m quite curious myself.”
Snape pressed his lips into a tight line.
With a flick of his wand, the office door swung open automatically.
“Get out!”
“I wish you a speedy recovery from your headache, Professor!”
Evelyn stepped over the threshold, her boot heels clicking against the stone floor.
A dull thud sounded behind her as Snape slammed the potion bottle onto the desk.
Immediately after, his voice gritted out from between his teeth: “That song…
why is it still looping in my head?”
Evelyn: (¬‿¬)
…
Rounding the stone pillar at the end of the corridor, she nearly bumped into someone.
Hermione was holding a stack of books, her face practically screaming, *I’ve been waiting here for forty-five whole minutes.*
“Did he use Legilimency on you?”
“How did you know?”
“He cleared out all the portraits near his door beforehand and put up three layers of Muffling Charms.”
Hermione shifted the books to her other arm.
“Only an interrogation requires that level of security.”
“Miss Granger, your intelligence network has upgraded fast!”
“You taught me,” Hermione said expressionlessly.
“I bribed the knight portrait on the third floor.
The cost was polishing his armor.”
Evelyn: (ꐦ⊙ᗜ⊙)
“Are you alright?
What did he see?”
“A pack of pigs doing square dancing.”
Hermione almost dropped her books.
She took a deep breath and readjusted her grip on the heavy stack.
“I’m not going to ask for details.”
“A wise choice.”
The two walked side by side upstairs.
As they passed the notice board, Hermione pointed to the poster at the very top.
The poster depicted crossed broomsticks, with bold letters reading: *Gryffindor vs.
Slytherin, This Saturday at 11:00 AM.*
Evelyn stopped in her tracks, staring at the poster.
A line of small gold text flashed across her system panel: [Notice: High-density chaos opportunity incoming.]
She slipped her hand into her robe pocket and felt a cold, cylindrical object.
She squeezed the cylinder, her lips curling upward by an inch.
Hermione took half a step backward.
“Evelyn, you’re smiling.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Whenever you smile like that, something huge is about to happen!”
Evelyn twirled the cylinder with her fingers, her gaze nailed to the poster.
“Hermione, do you think amplified sound equipment is allowed in the Quidditch stands?”
Hermione’s grip on her books tightened violently!