A large, green shadow blocked their path.
Snape turned his sallow face towards Malfoy. His dark complexion made him look seriously ill.
His black eyes resembled bottomless holes, as though they were sucking away all the light around them.
"Come with me."
Snape repeated the words expressionlessly, offering no further explanation. His tone sounded more like a forceful command that allowed no refusal.
Pansy was still clinging tightly to Malfoy's arm, looking somewhat worried.
"Miss Parkinson, you don't need to come. And don't worry. I only want to talk to Draco."
Snape seemed to have read her thoughts and offered an explanation.
He then turned around, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked forward with a sinister expression, seemingly unconcerned that Malfoy might not follow.
"We'll have plenty of time to talk. I'm not going anywhere. You should go and eat first."
Malfoy whispered a few words into Pansy's ear to reassure her. He ruffled her short hair, then followed closely behind the sinister-looking man.
Snape raised his wand and touched a portrait of a soldier holding a golden, round shield.
The shield lifted, revealing the entrance to a staircase.
"The Dark Lord told me that some of his disobedient subordinates may have caused you a little trouble. I hope it didn't delay your journey. Of course, it seems you are already late. McGonagall originally intended to make the official announcement during the morning assembly, but that has now been postponed."
Snape spoke in an extremely deep voice as he walked, his wand gleaming in his hand.
"It was a little troublesome."
Malfoy nodded. At the very least, the attack had caused him to arrive late.
The two of them descended the dark stone steps into the basement. A damp smell permeated the air, mingling with the scents of herbs and soil.
"I think it would be better if we spent less time alone together. Otherwise, we might arouse suspicion," Malfoy said quietly.
"McGonagall asked me to keep you here. She thinks it would be better for you to appear tonight so that she can pass the news on to the students. There seems to have been some disturbance earlier. Even so, she was still willing to let you take her examination first. Perhaps she considers the questions she set particularly important."
"Maybe this will help you earn a few extra points."
Snape chuckled, seemingly unconcerned.
Worrying about examinations was ridiculous.
Snape reached his desk and sat down.
Suddenly, the long wooden table in front of him sank slightly. With a sharp whoosh, a letter shot out from beneath the table and landed in Snape's hand.
He tore it open.
It was a newspaper—the day's Daily Prophet.
"Look. Here's today's newspaper, though I suppose you probably don't need to read it."
Snape pushed the newspaper across the table, stopping it at the edge.
"I don't think it's necessary."
Malfoy naturally knew what was inside and shook his head.
"All right. Now, I hope you'll accept—or at least cooperate with—what I'm about to discuss with you."
"What is it, Professor Snape?"
Malfoy walked over to a bookshelf. Although it had a slightly decayed appearance, it was spotless. He pulled out a book titled Advanced Potion-Making Techniques and casually flipped through it.
Snape took a breath.
"You need to be a 'normal' student," he said slowly.
"Normal? Am I not normal enough already, Professor Snape? Or does being normal mean earning fewer points on examinations and becoming mediocre?"
Malfoy returned the book to the shelf, raised his head, and met Snape's gaze without flinching. His tone was teasing.
"Is this what the Dark Lord means?"
"You don't need to pretend to be foolish anymore."
Snape's tone was indifferent, but his words carried an unspoken meaning.
"Well, I must say, my mother is quite brave."
Malfoy suddenly sighed, as though he had already guessed what had happened.
"Narcissa begged me for a long time. She didn't want you to take any more risks. I only agreed because of my relationship with your father. I'll help you report to the Dark Lord and provide you with some intelligence."
Snape's voice was cold.
What he had just described as being a "normal" student was normal in the truest sense.
Rather than pretending to be ordinary, Malfoy would be walking along the edge of danger while gathering intelligence.
"What good would that do for you, Professor Snape? I don't remember you being a particularly helpful person, especially one willing to risk disobeying the Dark Lord's orders."
"Your parents will owe me a favour. That may prove useful in the future."
Snape gradually grew impatient. His tone became increasingly gloomy, as though saying such things went against his usual nature.
"Favors? What use would favors be to you, Professor Snape?"
Malfoy retorted.
Snape fell silent.
"However, I'm happy to have things made easier for me. Professor, if you don't mind putting in a little extra effort, I have no other objections."
Seemingly realising that he had been too aggressive, Malfoy softened his tone.
With a flick of his finger, he picked up the copy of The Daily Prophet that he had previously shown no interest in.
The article above was a brief summary of his story.
It described how he had been placed in a Muggle washing machine set to its highest power and thoroughly cleaned, as though countless bottles of bleach had been poured over him.
Of course, that was the Muggle way of describing it.
In wizarding terms, it would be more accurate to say that he had been completely cleansed.
"All right. I should be going now."
Malfoy skimmed through the report about himself merely to pass the time. He showed no awareness that Snape had helped him and turned to leave.
Snape stared at his retreating figure, remembering the way Narcissa had pleaded with him.
"Severus, I beg you. Draco will definitely be under close surveillance at school. If he gets caught again, I'm afraid he..."
Narcissa's haggard face flashed through Snape's mind again and again.
He did, in fact, have moments of softness.
Snape did not want to deny it.
There was no point in deceiving himself.
Perhaps he really had been thinking of her.
After all, they had one thing in common.
They were both mothers.