Even when teaching a bunch of little brats, his rhetoric was still so magnificent, arrogant, and seductive.
"Potter!"
Snape suddenly aimed his attack at Harry: "What would I get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an Infusion of Wormwood?"
Harry froze. He glanced at Ron, who looked equally bewildered.
Hermione's arm shot up high, nearly poking the ceiling.
"I don't know, sir," Harry answered honestly.
Snape curled his lip contemptuously.
"Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything."
"I shall ask you once more, if I instructed you to find me a Bezoar, where would you look?"
Hermione's arm went even higher. Harry still shook his head.
"I don't know, sir."
"I assume you haven't opened a single book since before term started, have you, Potter?"
Snape ruthlessly humiliated the savior, and the Slytherin students roared with laughter.
Tamara watched Harry's flushed face, feeling a surge of satisfaction.
"Well done, Severus," she assessed inwardly. "Even with me here, you haven't forgotten to strike at the enemy's morale."
"Since Mr. Potter knows nothing."
Snape's black eyes swept across the classroom, deliberately ignoring Hermione who was practically standing up, and finally settled on Tamara.
"Miss Riddle."
Snape's voice tightened slightly: "Perhaps you can tell these... illustrious people the answers to these three questions?"
In reality, he didn't want to utter that surname, but due to rational consideration, Snape had to confirm his own suspicion.
Since Snape had seen that familiar surname on the roll book, he had barely slept well.
Although most of the Wizarding world only knew Lord Voldemort and not Tom Riddle, as Lord Voldemort's loyal subordinate, how could he not know his true name?
Snape wanted to know if the girl before him had any connection to the long-dead Lord Voldemort.
Tamara stood up gracefully.
She didn't rush to recite from a textbook, but instead spoke in a slow, deliberate tone remarkably similar to Snape's own.
"Powdered Root of Asphodel and an Infusion of Wormwood, when mixed, form a sleeping Potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, Professor."
She looked at Snape, a smile playing on her lips.
"As for the Bezoar, it is a stone taken from the stomach of a Goat, possessing extremely strong antidote properties—it is a lifesaver for those fools who accidentally drink poison."
"Finally, Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same plant, also known collectively as Aconite."
A perfect answer.
Not only was it precise, but the tone of her description carried an arrogance that sent shivers down one's spine.
It was the tone Snape knew best.
It was the tone used by the person sitting in the main seat during countless Death Eater meetings.
Snape's face grew even paler.
He looked at the eleven-year-old girl before him, at her dark eyes that seemed capable of seeing into people's hearts.
In that instant, the chill in the dungeon seemed to deepen.
"...Correct."
Snape squeezed the word out through gritted teeth, his voice dry: "Five points to Slytherin."
He seemed unwilling to look at Tamara for another second, turning abruptly, his black robes billowing.
"What are you waiting for? Write all of this down in your notebooks!"
Tamara sat down, satisfied.
She could sense Snape's tension.
"It seems he has recognized my talent," Tamara thought smugly.
"Is he afraid my potential will surpass his? Or is he thrilled that his Master finally has a worthy heir?"
Either way, she enjoyed it.
In her previous life, until her death, Lord Voldemort never doubted Snape's loyalty. She didn't know that Lily's death had directly shaken that loyalty.
Naturally, she wouldn't know about the subsequent cooperation between Dumbledore and Snape.
The next part of the lesson was brewing the Potion for Curing Boils in groups.
Tamara and Draco were paired together.
Under Tamara's direction, Draco practically became the group's laborer, while Tamara oversaw the control of the crucial steps.
Their Potion displayed a perfect blue color and emitted pink smoke.
In stark contrast was the Gryffindor side.
Neville Longbottom somehow managed to melt Seamus Finnigan's cauldron, spilling the Potion everywhere and burning holes in his classmates' shoes.
Neville cried out in pain, his entire body covered in red, swollen Boils.
"Idiot!"
Snape roared, waving his wand to clean up the Potion: "I assume you didn't take the cauldron off the fire before adding the Porcupine quills, did you?"
He thoroughly berated Neville, then suddenly turned to Harry.
"Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Do you think his mistake makes you look good? Gryffindor will lose one point because of you."
Harry was so angry he wanted to retort, but Ron held him back.
This was blatant prejudice and targeting.
But in Tamara's eyes, this was a display of loyalty.
"He's even willing to use such a flimsy excuse just to suppress the savior."
Tamara elegantly bottled the perfect Potion while glancing at the raging Snape.
"You still hate Gryffindor so much, Severus."
"Excellent."
It seemed that even though the Death Eaters had lost power, Snape still maintained his fundamental moral compass.
The end-of-class bell rang.
When Tamara walked out of the dungeon, she was in a better mood than when she arrived.
She was certain that, besides Barrow, she had gained another trustworthy ally in this school.
Although this ally currently seemed a bit neurotic and had a bad temper.
But it didn't matter.
"As long as you hate Potter, we are on the same side."
Tamara looked back at the tightly closed dungeon door, her eyes gleaming with confidence.
She believed Snape was discerning; no matter what form she took, as long as he recognized her soul, he would unreservedly offer the loyalty due to her.
Meanwhile, behind the door.
Severus Snape was slumped in his chair, his usually cold and empty black eyes now filled with terror and agony.
He clutched the dark mark on his left arm. Although the skin wasn't burning, his soul was trembling.
"That tone..."
Snape looked at the spot where Tamara had just been sitting, murmuring to himself.
"Lily... if you could see this..."
"That person's soul... has truly returned."