i am snape

"Excuse me," Snape called out, stopping the team captain who was about to leave.

Montague paused and looked at Snape. He was built like a brick outhouse, with thick, coarse hair and forearms like hairy hams. The broom in his hand looked like a twig compared to him, making one wonder how it managed to carry him airborne.

"What do you want?" Montague rumbled.

"Hello, I was wondering if non-Quidditch players could use your training room."

"Yes, you can," Montague said, sizing Snape up. "A beanpole like you certainly needs more exercise. Today's tryout results were terrible; there wasn't a single solid candidate like myself."

Snape suppressed the urge to retort, thinking to himself, "A big oaf like you truly deserves to get his head stuck in a toilet."

"Wait for me." Montague walked into the captain's office. When he emerged, he had changed out of his uniform and was holding a black parcel.

"Have you ever had a Chocolate Frog?" Montague asked mysteriously, though the expression on his face looked more like constipation.

"What are you talking about, Montague?"

"You know, the sweets that jump like real frogs." Montague made an exaggerated arm-flapping motion, startling Snape, who almost thought a giant gorilla was leaping at him.

"I know what that is!" Snape took two steps back.

"Oh, good," Montague beckoned Snape closer. "Look at this."

Inside the parcel were some glass bottles filled with dark red liquid.

"What is this?"

"Polyjuice Dragon Blood Potion."

"Does it turn people into dragons?" This undoubtedly confused Snape further. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Haven't you seen the cards?" Montague was growing impatient. "Dumbledore's cards, 'Twelve Uses for Dragon Blood!'"

"Are you saying—"

"Yes, for strengthening the body." Montague nodded. "If you want to train properly, you might want to try some. It contains the blood of nine types of dragons: Norwegian Ridgeback, Hungarian Horntail, Chinese Fireball, Welsh Green, Swedish Short-Snout, Ukrainian Ironbelly, Antipodean Opaleye, Peruvian Vipertooth, and Romanian Longhorn. A bottle is only ten Galleons, and if you buy five or more at once, I can give you a ten percent discount..."

"No, I don't need it," Snape leaped back even further. "I don't 'do' Muggle technology."

"What Muggle technology? This is magic!" Montague said indignantly. "If you weren't from the same house and interested in physical fitness, I wouldn't even tell you."

Snape instinctively glanced towards Montague's head: Merlin's beard, it's only 1976, and the Quidditch world is already so advanced?

"Mundungus—oh, no, Montague, thank you very much. But I have no money! Just let me use your training room. My friend is waiting for me..." Snape fled.

...

After finishing dinner in the Great Hall, Snape reluctantly walked towards Professor McGonagall's office. Tonight, he had to go there again for detention with James.

So far, he and James had organized Filch's old records, washed bed sheets and covers for Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing, dusted Tom Riddle's medals, and done several other trivial and boring tasks. That they hadn't come to blows after so many collaborations was nothing short of a miracle. At least, Snape thought so.

He gently knocked on the door.

"Come in," Professor McGonagall's stern voice came from within.

It was a room that matched her character. Compared to the fantastical nature of Dumbledore's office, there were no flashy objects here; it was even rather simple. Besides a Gryffindor banner and a few House Cups, her bookshelves and desk contained only books and parchment scrolls.

"Good evening, Professor," Snape said. "It seems Mr. Potter hasn't arrived yet. What will we be doing tonight?"

"Good evening, Severus." Professor McGonagall handed him a stack of parchment. "Today is the last day. You need to write the sentence—'I must live in harmony and unity with students from other Houses.' Just fill these papers; you can start now."

Snape took the parchment, sat at a small table, and began writing the sentence over and over with his quill. This was much easier than he had anticipated. It wasn't like that monstrous old toad Umbridge making him write sentences; there was nothing to fear.

Soon, James arrived too. He sat down at the furthest end from Snape and joined the sentence-writing party. Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, was at her desk, reading the latest issue of *Transfiguration Today* by the lamplight.

Almost two hours later, Snape finally finished. He satisfactorily checked his work, only to find that the further he went, the more illegible and larger his handwriting became. Snape nervously handed the parchment to Professor McGonagall, hoping she wouldn't be too particular. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall didn't trouble him, merely frowning and saying, "That will do."

Before leaving, Snape suddenly thought of something. He said to James, "Mr. Potter, your replacement parchment will arrive in a few days."

"Screech—"

The chair beneath James emitted a grating sound. He was clearly struggling to keep from standing up, but his quill, uncontrollable, jabbed at the paper, and ink bled across the parchment.

"Potter, what are you doing? You'll have to rewrite that page."

Hearing Professor McGonagall's voice, Snape pulled the door shut with satisfaction.

Standing in the corridor, Snape pulled out the Marauder's Map from his robes. With a light tap of his wand, fine ink lines spread like spiderwebs from where his wand tip touched, connecting and crisscrossing, expanding to every corner of the parchment.

Snape casually observed the many moving black dots on the map. His gaze swept up and down the familiar corridors. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar name—Mulciber. Mulciber was moving near the library on the fifth floor of the castle. Then, the black dot representing him completely vanished from the map.

A sudden alarm went off in Snape's mind. Unless Mulciber had undergone a drastic change, like himself, he shouldn't be able to enter the library. Moreover, right where he disappeared, the Marauder's Map indicated a secret passage leading to Hogsmeade.

Seeing Filch quietly stationed in his office behind the marble staircase, Snape ran quickly upstairs. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, carefully hiding like a human chameleon among several suits of armor, watching the closing-time crowd disperse.

Only when Madam Pince pulled the main door shut did Snape emerge from beside the wall. He walked to a large mirror not far from the library. Following the instructions on the Marauder's Map, he drew a strange pattern on it with his wand and whispered,

"Soar on wings."

Instantly, the mirror split down the middle and slid into the wall. A wide passage appeared before him.