Snape quickly glanced at both sides of the corridor, then tucked the map away and stepped into the passage.
Behind him, the mirror clicked shut, cutting off the chandelier's light from the hallway and plunging the passage into total darkness.
He could not help sighing to himself:
Sigh, compared to a Slytherin, right now I feel more like a Gryffindor. I wonder if I'll ever get the chance to be a Sword Saint...
"Lumos!"
The tip of his wand lit up with a soft glow. Before him stretched a flat, wide space, and at the far end, a stone staircase leading downward loomed faintly.
Wasn't this the very passage that, during the Weasley twins' school years, would collapse?
What could this place be used for? Snape rubbed his chin in thought. Could someone use it to transport cursed objects, or secretly release dangerous magical creatures?
So,should he go down and take a look?
And what if he ran into Mulciber halfway down...
At that thought, the corner of his lips twisted into a cold smile.
Oh, that's nothing to worry about. That boy is definitely going to be a Death Eater in the future. I'm not Dumbledore, I have no such unrealistic ideas about saving every soul.
As long as sending Mulciber to meet Merlin didn't tear his own soul apart, it would be fine.
Good luck to him.
For safety's sake, Snape extinguished the glow at his wand-tip, pressed himself sideways against the wall, and carefully made his way down the stairs like a human-shaped chameleon.
Time slipped by unnoticed. He didn't know how long he had been walking before the passage began to slope upward again.
As he walked, a sharp, pungent stench grew stronger and stronger.
Suddenly, his head smacked into something hard above him.
Rubbing his forehead, he paused, then slowly pushed open the trapdoor above. Narrowing his eyes, he peeked into the room beyond.
The moment he saw the interior, Snape finally understood the source of that stench,straw and droppings littered the floor, along with scattered bones of small animals he couldn't even identify.
He climbed up and pulled the trapdoor shut behind him. Beneath the covering of straw, it blended seamlessly with the surrounding floor, leaving not the slightest trace.
This was the owl shed of the Hogsmeade Post Office.
Listening to the rustling all around him, Snape recalled the strange shape he had traced on the mirror earlier. So, it had been the outline of an owl.
From time to time, owls flew in and out, the windows beyond revealing the bright starlit sky.
Snape carefully avoided the bird droppings, stepping lightly as he slipped outside.
Hogsmeade was silent at night.
Shops on both sides of the street were dark, the silhouettes of distant mountains swallowed by the night. Ahead, the winding road back to Hogwarts was faintly visible, while only the windows of the Three Broomsticks shone with a dim golden glow.
"Where's Mulciber..." Snape muttered under his breath.
He wandered the street, but not a single person was in sight.
Just as he was debating whether to approach the Three Broomsticks and take a peek through its windows, a cloaked and hooded figure hurried toward the village from the far end of the road.
That person moved nervously, glancing about constantly.
Snape stopped, his face expressionless as he watched the figure pass right by him and slip into the owl shed.
That had to be Mulciber.
Snape turned and followed the direction Mulciber had come from. He had never gone that way before.
The winding path led him to barren fields on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. There were only a few small cottages here, each with large surrounding plots of land.
Within those plots stood scattered, ancient tombstones. This was the village graveyard of Hogsmeade.
At the graveyard entrance stood a narrow gate. Snape pushed it open as quietly as possible and slipped inside.
From time to time, he spotted familiar surnames etched into the stones,Rosmerta, Dewis, Pettifrew...
So Mulciber had been here just now. But what exactly had he been doing here?
Snape had assumed Mulciber was coming to Hogsmeade to meet with someone.
Looking around, however, he saw nothing but cold stone, bones buried beneath the earth, and soil.
With no other choice, he turned back.
Upon returning to Hogwarts, Snape suddenly realized something: why should he wait for Death Eaters to act? Why not just blow up the staircase leading down from the secret passage altogether?
Deciding on the spot, he raised his wand:
"Confringo!"
"Reducto!"
"Bombarda!"
With each booming blast, the walls barely chipped, a little dust lazily drifting down onto the stone steps.
"Huh?" Snape stared in disbelief at the scene before him, muttering, "Just how did Fred and George manage to collapse this place?"
At that moment, he noticed several black dots on the Marauder's Map moving quickly toward his location.
Not daring to linger, Snape bolted from the passage and rushed back along the path to the dungeons.
When he finally returned to the dormitory, he saw that Mulciber's bed-curtains had already been tightly drawn.
The next day, in Charms class, the students were practicing the Water-Making Spell, streams of clear water gushing forth throughout the room.
Taking advantage of the practice session, Snape subtly turned to Pandora and whispered:
"Let me ask you something," he decided to consult a professional, "how can one efficiently and precisely blow up a building?"
"Just use the Blasting Curse, it's easy," Pandora replied without a second thought, twirling her wand casually as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
"Easy? You've tried it?"
"Of course, lots of times." Pandora nodded vigorously.
Snape sucked in a sharp breath and pressed further: "You tried it on objects, right?"
"Well of course, what else would I try it on?" Pandora gave him a puzzled look.
"Ahem. But what if the spell doesn't work?"
"Hmm... maybe it's because there's protective magic on it," Pandora thought aloud. "But ordinary protective spells usually fail against the Blasting Curse."
"And if the protective magic isn't ordinary?"
Snape described the effects of his spells.
Hearing his account, Pandora's eyes lit up, excitement bursting from her expression.
"That would have to be judged on-site! Where is this passage? I want to see it!"
"Fine, I'll take you there later," Snape replied.
During the rest of the practice, Pandora was so caught up in her anticipation that she swung her wand with too much force.
The stream of water she was supposed to conjure turned into a roaring water-dragon, which surged straight at Professor Flitwick, who had been standing on a stack of books observing the class.
It blasted him all the way up to the ceiling.
When Professor Flitwick landed, dried himself off with a flick of his wand, and punished Pandora by making her copy out the line "I am a witch, not a baboon brandishing a stick", Snape eyed her doubtfully and asked:
"Are you sure you actually have enough precise blasting experience?"
"Trust me!" Pandora said, patting her chest with confidence.