Looking at Evans blocking his path, Snape paused for a moment before speaking in his characteristic cold voice:
"...Share what information? I have nothing to say to you."
As he spoke, he tried to walk around Evans to return to his seat.
But Evans didn't let him have his way, blocking his path once again.
"A dark wizard capable of casting the Drowning Curse has appeared in the school. I think I need to know something about this."
He could overlook not being present during the Quidditch match incident, but this time someone had cursed a student he knew right in front of him. If he didn't do something about it, Evans felt he might as well stop being a professor.
And his dear Head of House should know quite a bit.
"Today was just an accident. It won't happen again." Snape waved his hand impatiently. He intended to leave the Great Hall but was once again blocked by Evans.
"Come on, tell me about it, Head of House. You know I'm a very good listener!"
Looking at that smiling face before him, Snape instinctively felt waves of nameless anger rising in his heart.
Every time Evans did something despicable, he wore that same smile, giving him a bit of PTSD.
But he knew that this time, Evans genuinely just wanted to find the culprit behind this incident.
After a moment of silence, Snape somewhat reluctantly led Evans to a corner nearby and spoke in a low voice.
"Before today, I had been suspecting Quirrell."
"His behavior this semester has been too abnormal, completely different from his former self."
"But today's incident is strange. Quirrell couldn't possibly cast the Drowning Curse. This curse requires too high a level of proficiency from the caster. Quirrell isn't a good spellcaster, so even if he cast the curse, someone must have taught him step by step."
"As for the purpose, it should be that Stone."
At this point, Snape curled his lip disdainfully.
"But even if today's incident wasn't Quirrell's doing, it's definitely connected to him."
"I've seen him wandering around that corridor too many times. If Dumbledore hadn't told me not to move against him yet, I would have captured him long ago and found a way to make him talk."
Snape's expression became somewhat grim, but Evans didn't doubt his words.
For a Potions Master, making someone talk was indeed a simple matter.
But...
"You mean our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is himself a dark wizard coveting the Philosopher's Stone?"
"And besides Quirrell, there might be another dark wizard in the school who's proficient in curses and can even cast the Drowning Curse through others?"
Seeing Snape nod, Evans felt a mix of emotions.
Had Hogwarts, the safest place during wartime, now become so easily infiltrated by dark wizards?
What had made the school become like this?
Even their headmaster might very well be involved?
Evans was about to ask more questions, but before he could speak, Snape rudely interrupted him.
"If you want to know more, I suggest you go directly to Dumbledore." Snape said somewhat impatiently. "The protections he created this semester to guard the Philosopher's Stone are quite telling, aren't they?"
"Maybe he's fishing, maybe he's doing something else. Anyway, when I ask him, he always smiles and deflects."
"Perhaps he'd prefer you instead?"
With a sarcastic smile on his face, Snape left this remark and turned around, walking straight toward the Great Hall's entrance.
Watching Snape's retreating figure, Evans shook his head somewhat helplessly.
Actually, he had felt before that Dumbledore was fishing; today he had just gotten some further evidence.
But knowing the headmaster's intentions didn't mean he could analyze anything from it.
Given Dumbledore's personality, no one could dig out what he wanted to keep hidden.
But he could make some guesses.
Although his memories of Harry Potter from his previous life were scarce, he still remembered some of the most basic things.
The fish that Professor Dumbledore was designing to catch must have an extraordinary identity.
And in the world of Harry Potter, which person of distinguished status had the deepest connection to this story?
A face without hair or a nose flashed through Evans's mind.
As the final boss of this story, Evans was quite certain that Voldemort definitely hadn't died completely before.
But his current state must not be very good, otherwise he wouldn't be coveting the Philosopher's Stone.
He'd ask Dumbledore tomorrow, even though he'd very likely get nothing out of it.
But doing nothing would leave him somewhat unwilling.
However, if the Philosopher's Stone was bait for fishing Voldemort, then his rash involvement might very well disrupt the headmaster's plan.
Tsk, very troublesome.
This feeling was uncomfortable, like knowing there was a time bomb in the school but being unable to defuse it, or even touch it.
He hoped the headmaster wouldn't mess up and let the fish eat the bait.
As his eyes flickered, Evans transformed into a silver-white arc of light and left the Great Hall.
After this incident, he had no mood to continue eating.
Of course, those extremely unpalatable turkeys were also a very important reason.
Even outside Hogwarts on Christmas, the castle was full of holiday atmosphere. The castle that should have stood lonely in the night was hung with colorful light orbs, and each of the main towers was topped with a bright sphere of light, allowing people to appreciate the full view of this magical castle even at night.
The trees around the castle were all decorated to look like Christmas trees, with candy, gingerbread, and all kinds of Christmas-exclusive foods hanging on them, waiting for passersby to discover these unique Christmas surprises.
Walking home, Evans wasn't in a hurry but instead admired these unique Christmas decorations along the way.
Alice and Nana had taken Little Cloak to the Forbidden Forest to spend Christmas with their other little friends, and they might not even return tonight.
If he went back early, he'd just be keeping an empty house.
Thinking this way, Evans wandered around the grounds for nearly ten minutes before returning to his Care of Magical Creatures hut.
But just as Evans stood at the door, preparing to push it open, something rather inconspicuous caught his eye.
In the snow not far from the door, a package lay quietly.
It was a pure white gift package, almost blending with the color of the snow. The package was tied with a pale golden ribbon that emitted a faint glow in the night.
Looking at that package, Evans was silent for a long time before stepping forward to pick it up.
White was his favorite color.
And pale gold...
Shaking his head, Evans pushed open the door and entered the room, gently placing the gift on the table before pulling out a chair to sit down and untying the ribbon.
The white package instantly sprang open when the ribbon was pulled away. A greeting card was placed on top, and as the package opened, it floated directly in front of Evans, hovering quietly.
Looking at the elegant handwriting on the card, Evans's lips curved up slightly.
Even the frustration of knowing there was a dark wizard in the school but being unable to eliminate him dissipated considerably.
[Merry Christmas!
This year's gift might be a bit late. I couldn't find an owl to help me deliver it, so I had to ask Loka for help.
It's going to Britain recently, so it can conveniently drop the thing at your doorstep.
I hope it can deliver it before Christmas ends.
It's started snowing in the forest recently. Hmph, I hate winter—it's frozen half of my flowers and plants to death again!
But when spring comes, they'll grow back again, right? Life is always so miraculous—clearly so fragile, yet it always manages to leave a thread of hope.
I heard you went to Hogwarts to be a professor. I don't know where you'll be living, but I imagine there's probably no green in your room at all, right?
Although you always act like you really hate green, if there's no green at all, life becomes lifeless and lacking in vitality!
I'm sending you a little plant. Don't let it die!]
The text ended here. Instead of a signature, there was a Q-version smiley face drawn in pale green paint.
Lightly touching the edge of the card with his finger, the floating card fell to the side, revealing what was contained in the package.
It was a Revival Grass planted in a flowerpot. This grass was quite rare in the magical world, and besides being used to brew some potions, it had one very notable characteristic.
Extremely hardy.
Even without watering, fertilizing, or even being placed in soil, Revival Grass could maintain its vitality until the next time it received nutrients and continued growing.
However, this unkillable trait also came at a considerable cost. Revival Grass only bloomed once every ten years, and each bloom only produced two or three seeds.
Moreover, their seeds didn't inherit their immortal trait—any slight disturbance could cause them to lose vitality.
But mature Revival Grass didn't need any worry. As long as you didn't do anything outrageous, they simply couldn't die.
But... what did sending this thing mean?
Was his ability to cultivate plants really that bad? Did she need to send such a hardy plant?
He was a Magizoologist, after all!
Muttering to himself, Evans carefully took the small flowerpotfrom the gift box and placed it in a corner of his desk.
Actually, having this little plant by his desk looked quite nice.
At least it was easy on the eyes.
Gently touching the top of the little plant, Evans drew his wand and pointed the tip at the flowerpot.
"Magical protection, steady and stable, moist soil, vitality activation..."
The wand moved continuously, and a series of protective spells fell around the little plant. After a long while, Evans finally lowered his wand with a satisfied smile.
This way, it should be impossible for it to die, right?
[Chapter Complete]
***
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