Chapter 2: The Abysmal Luck of Severus Snape
Severus Snape was a professor at Hogwarts. He taught Potions, served as the Head of Slytherin House, and was a wizard of exceptional ability.
However, as a professor at the school, there was a period each year that he found intensely irritating and difficult to endure—July and August. This was when he was required to contact young witches and wizards from Muggle families, persuade their parents, and take their children away.
The phrasing had the distinct feeling of being a great villain, and when paired with his gloomy face and deathly monotonous voice, his image certainly had the air of a major antagonist.
Today was July 14th, a damnably bright and sunny day. As everyone knows, bats detest being active during the day, especially when the sun is shining brightly.
The acceptance letters sent by Hogwarts were scheduled to be delivered around eight o'clock. After receiving the magical feedback confirming 'receipt', the professors would then depart at nine to make their introductory visits to the students' homes. It was precisely nine o'clock now, and Snape arrived right on time.
The act of Apparition, both disappearing and reappearing, produces a sharp 'pop' similar to the sound of a pistol firing. The more skilled a wizard is with Apparition, the quieter the noise. Snape's skill in this area was considerable, but he had not yet achieved silent travel. The sound he made upon appearing was not something an ordinary person would pay much attention to.
But just as he stepped into the sunlight and walked toward the door of the student he was to visit, the loud cry of an eagle echoed from above. He instinctively looked up and saw a falcon, its beak still stained with a few drops of fresh blood from a recent meal.
Suddenly, a black object the size of a fist flew out of a second-story window. The instant it left the frame—!
An intensely brilliant flash of light and a high-frequency noise beyond the limits of human tolerance simultaneously blinded his eyes and deafened his ears. He was a wizard, not Superman!
He was utterly unprepared for such an abrupt attack. He hadn't come here ready for a fight; he was visiting a Muggle student's home to extend an invitation, not undertaking a life-threatening mission.
A subtle disturbance in the air, a whisper of wind. A nimble figure, cloaked in a hooded mantle, leaped down from above. Throwing knives, held between their fingers, were instantly flung out, aimed at the joints of his limbs hidden beneath his robes.
Ezio had no intention of killing him. He needed information.
The assailant was a veteran of aerial assassinations. His movements were fluid and decisive, leaping from a height of several meters without a shred of hesitation. But just as he was about to land on the figure below, the unexpected happened.
The black-robed figure vanished. And not far away, a sharp 'pop' he was all too familiar with rang out.
In that critical moment, a disheveled Snape had Apparated. Now blind and deaf, he hastily drew his wand while his free hand fumbled inside his robes, grabbing a vial and pouring a potion down his throat.
The stinging in his eyes and the ringing in his ears vanished. But before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, a deadly intuition screamed at him, urging him to do something!
"Protego!"
The wand in his hand trembled, and an invisible shield enveloped his body. But at that very moment, a searing pain shot through his wand arm. Something incredibly sharp had pierced it. Immediately after, he felt it press against his throat.
A trickle of warm, wet liquid slid down his neck. The scent of iron filling his nostrils told him it was his own blood.
The sharp weapon that had impaled his arm was withdrawn, and was now held level with his throat, its broken blade stained with his blood.
"I'll give you one sentence to tell me why you're here." Having subdued the man, Ezio sensed that something was off. Aside from that instantaneous teleportation technique, the man's body was far too weak. It showed no signs of training.
"I am a professor from Hogwarts. I mean no harm!"
Snape's voice remained calm, even on the verge of death. He wasn't afraid of having his throat slit; the potions he carried were potent enough to heal him in an instant, but only if he was given the chance to use one.
Losing his wand didn't matter, either. Unlike other useless wizards, he had the ability to perform wandless magic. However, wandless magic still required a verbal incantation; Snape could not perform it non-verbally.
"Hog... warts?"
As the word entered Ezio's ears, a memory he had long since sealed away resurfaced. He had, of course, heard that strange word before—not in this life, but in his previous one. He knew what those syllables represented.
'This isn't the modern world of Assassin's Creed? It's the goddamn wizarding world?'
Ezio faltered for a fraction of a second. It was a fleeting moment, but Snape seized upon it. Though he didn't understand the reason for the hesitation, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.
"Expelliarmus!"
A red jet of light shot from the fingertips of his left hand. The broken spear in Ezio's grasp was instantly ripped from his hand and sent flying. Snape felt the weight on his back disappear as the person vanished.
Snape's own form disappeared from the spot. When he reappeared a short distance away, another potion was already being poured down his throat. The burning pain in his right arm subsided as the wound began to heal rapidly.
"Stupefy!"
Another jet of red light burst from his fingertips, flying towards the figure not far away.
But just as the spell was about to hit its mark, Ezio caught his spear and swung it forward, shattering the red light into nothing.
"It seems there's been a misunderstanding between us."
Now certain that this man was not an assassin sent by the Templars, Ezio had no intention of escalating their conflict. Since this world wasn't secretly controlled by Templars, he had no reason to attack this man.
He knew of Hogwarts, and he knew of Snape. And right now, he needed a way into the wizarding world—an opportunity that had just presented itself right in front of him.
"Is that so?"
Snape's face was grim, his gaze hostile as he looked at the figure before him, who was clearly not an adult, but a child.
But after meeting that pair of cold, deathly eyes, he chose to suppress his anger.
Those eyes sent a chill down his spine, as if he were being stared at by Death itself. It might have been a trick of the mind, or it might have been real. Because when he looked at Ezio again, the boy's eyes had returned to 'normal', no longer holding that grim, murderous aura.
"I apologize for my actions just now. Due to certain circumstances, I mistook you for someone sent to kill me. My reaction was... excessive."
Ezio picked up the wand that had fallen to the ground and tossed it over.
As his fingers closed around his wand once more, Snape let out a slight breath of relief.
"I require an explanation," he said to Ezio coolly.
"My father is dead. It happened just a short while ago. A message he left behind hinted that his death may be related to something... unusual. Twelve moons. Do you know what that means?"
After a moment of silence, Snape slowly shook his head. "I don't know anything about twelve moons. But I think... we can talk."