Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 48 Guardian Deity (4K)

The next morning, just as the new semester began, the sixth-grade students received a surprise: a large notice about "Phantom Class" had been posted on the bulletin board the night before.

As Snape and Abbott entered the common room, they were drawn by a burst of excited noise.

"Wow!" A gasp of surprise occasionally erupted from the crowd.

They squeezed their way towards the bulletin board. The area was already crowded with students, all lining up to sign their names. Amidst the pushing and shoving, they finally managed to sign their names.

"Hey, don't be silly, you can't Apparate here, it won't work inside the castle," a classmate couldn't help but remind his friend who was excitedly gesturing.

“Of course it’s obvious. Anyone who has read ‘Hogwarts: A History’ should know that, right?” another student replied with a hint of pride.

"Yes, I think everyone except trolls would know that..."

The students excitedly discussed everything about the apparition.

After a while, Snape and Abbott finally managed to squeeze out of the noisy crowd, leave the basement, and prepare to have breakfast before going to class.

“Severus has Apparated before,” Abbott said to Pandora with a proud look outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. “Someone Apparated with his entourage last year, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Pandora said with a chuckle. “You know Severus better than I do.”

“I had a few instances of my Followers appearing last year,” Snape quickly continued, his expression somewhat complicated. “Believe me, it’s not a pleasant experience, and you won’t like it.”

"In an instant, darkness will engulf you, as if countless invisible hands are squeezing you from all directions, and your chest will feel as if it is being tightly bound by several iron hoops, making it impossible to breathe."

"You might even feel your eyeballs being pushed back into your head, and your eardrums feeling like they're being pressed deep into your skull... Then, it's like being forced out of a very narrow rubber tube. Only then can you gasp for breath..."

As Snape spoke, he unconsciously gestured to indicate how he felt at the time.

The other sixth-grade students nearby heard their conversation and gathered around, curiously asking Snape what it felt like to Apparate.

Mary bombarded him with a barrage of questions, and as Snape answered them, he glanced up and noticed Lily was also in the crowd.

She stood there quietly, listening intently, her red hair standing out in the crowd.

He hadn't spoken to her for an entire semester since they parted ways outside the Gryffindor Tower at the end of fifth grade.

Of course, he didn't intend to make conversation.

It wasn't a matter of deliberately avoiding or not avoiding; in Snape's mind, he always felt that the girl in his memory was not quite the same as the Lily in front of him, as if the Lily in his memory was a phantom shadow, not the same person as the Lily in reality.

Perhaps, as a saying from later generations put it, "No one can compare to the you I remember, and neither can the you of today."

Perhaps he needs an opportunity to get to know her again.

Getting back to the point, after Snape told everyone that the feeling of his follower manifesting was very uncomfortable, the students did not lose interest at all; on the contrary, they looked at him with awe and anticipation.

It wasn't until Professor Grapland deliberately raised his voice and coughed several times that they reluctantly returned to their seats.

"Quiet! Quiet!" Professor Glapland raised his voice again, his serious gaze sweeping across the classroom. "Do you want to just tremble with fear when you encounter Dementors and get kissed by them?!"

She turned around abruptly and pointed to a picture pasted on the blackboard.

In the painting, a male witch is huddled in a corner, his eyes vacant, as if his soul has been taken away.

"Dementors are among the ugliest things in the world."

Professor Grapland’s voice was deep and serious as she picked up another picture of a Dementor to show everyone.

The Dementor in the painting is blurry, and under the cloak, you can vaguely see its rotting limbs covered in slime and spots.

"They like to hide themselves under cloaks and lurk in the darkest and filthiest places. They live in decay and despair, sucking all peace, hope and joy from the surrounding air."

"Even Muggles can sense their presence. Although Muggles cannot see them, when Dementors get close, all good feelings and all happy memories will be sucked away from you."

"If possible, the Dementor will keep sucking you until you become like it... soulless, filled with evil. After being kissed by a Dementor, all you'll have left is the worst experience of your life, nothing more than an 'empty shell'..."

“Professor,” a student asked fearfully, his voice trembling, “I heard they are guards of Azkaban?”

“Yes, they are there now,” Professor Glapland said, frowning. “The prison built on a lonely little island in the middle of the ocean.”

“Azkaban never needed high walls and seawater to imprison its prisoners, because the prisoners were imprisoned in their own minds, unable to evoke even a single thought of happiness, let alone try to escape.”

"For centuries, the Ministry of Magic has used Dementors as guards of Azkaban prison, as if they naively thought that this would solve the problem once and for all."

Professor Glapland sighed and shook his head.

"Perhaps this is a bit redundant, but remember to obey the law and don't end up in Azkaban."

"More than two hundred years ago, there was a Minister of Magic named Edridge Diggory who conducted an investigation of Azkaban."

He discovered that the prison environment was so appalling: Dementors sucked away all joy and other positive emotions.

"People died of despair, and most of the few who survived went insane. The place had become a haven for Dementors."

"Do such monsters really exist, Professor?" Peter Pettigrew, with his greyish-gray hair, asked in a high-pitched voice, a hint of fear flashing in his small eyes. "If they really exist, surely someone has to keep an eye on them?"

"Unfortunately, Peter, their existence is beyond doubt. They are merely temporarily confined to Azkaban."

"As for your other question, I agree with Headmaster Dumbledore on this point. Dementors have never truly pledged allegiance to anyone; they only side with those who can provide them with more human victims."

"If we're talking about who can control them, I think they'd be more willing to obey the orders of the Mystic than the Ministry of Magic."

A collective gasp filled the classroom, as if an unseen Dementor was lurking nearby, emanating a chilling aura.

The insect tail looked even more frightened, its body trembling slightly. It was biting its fingernails, appearing somewhat anxious.

“So what methods are there to eliminate them?” Lily’s calm voice broke the oppressive atmosphere. “If there’s no way to deal with them, I don’t think the Dementors will stay in Azkaban willingly. And what is the purpose of this lesson?” Professor Grapplen nodded approvingly at Lily. She stepped down from the podium and walked slowly among the students.

"To this day, wizards have not yet mastered a way to completely eliminate Dementors. All we can do is temporarily drive them away."

"A wizard who has mastered the Patronus Charm can conjure a Patronus, which is a Dementor nemesis—a guardian that acts like a shield between you and the Dementors."

Professor Grapland continued, “The Patronus is a positive force, an external manifestation of what Dementors rely on for survival—hope, joy, the will to live—but it cannot feel despair like a human, so Dementors cannot harm it.”

"It's important to note that the Patronus Charm is a very advanced form of magic," Professor Glapland solemnly reminded everyone, his gaze sweeping over each student's face. "Many highly skilled wizards haven't been able to master it. Only a small fraction of you will be able to learn it."

"More importantly, releasing a Patronus in the classroom and actually doing that when facing a Dementor are two completely different things."

But her warning didn't have the desired effect; instead, it dispelled the students' fear. Clearly, no one believed they were incapable of conjuring a guardian spirit.

"What does a guardian deity look like?" Abbot asked curiously.

“They are usually some kind of animal, the kind of animal that you feel most comfortable with,” Professor Grapland replied patiently.

"How did you conjure up that?"

Is it possible to have two identical guardian deities?

The students started asking questions all at once, and the classroom became lively again.

"Quiet!" Professor Glapland had to return to the podium and slam his hand on the table, the "bang" sound silencing everyone again.

“Each guardian spirit is unique to the wizard who created it,” she exclaimed. “I have never seen two guardian spirits that are exactly alike.”

"You need to recite a spell, and when you do so, you must concentrate all your thoughts on a particularly pleasant moment for the spell to take effect."

"The spell is—" she cleared her throat, "Patriot! Remember, think about your most enjoyable experience! Now, everyone can practice on their own. If you have any questions, come and ask me."

The difficulty of this spell exceeded everyone's expectations.

The classroom was filled with shouts of "Patrick!" but most students' wands just swayed in vain, without any reaction.

Only a few students emitted wisps of silvery-white gas from the tips of their wands, like the thin mist on a lake in the early morning, which disappeared in a short while.

Snape stood up, racking his brains to find his happiest moment deep in his memory.

Without a doubt, the memories that were originally in my body are unusable and need to be eliminated.

As for his memories of his past life, although that period occupied most of his life, looking back now, it was mostly filled with busyness and exhaustion.

As he grew up, went to school, and worked, people always told him that things would get better after "however," but there was always another "however" waiting for him ahead.

There were happy moments, but he had no idea whether those moments of joy could summon a guardian spirit. Perhaps he didn't even need to try, he thought.

Finally, he chose a certain moment after he came into this world.

“Panic of God,” Snape repeated silently, “Panic of God.”

His thoughts drifted to an old set of Gaubu stones, and then to a wallet with somewhat rough handcrafting...

Suddenly, something shot out from the tip of his wand, looking like a cloud of silvery-white gas, swirling in the air.

"Wow, man!" Abbot exclaimed in amazement, his face full of envy. "You actually managed to conjure something up."

"Do you think that's enough?" Snape shrugged, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "A puff of smoke won't do to Dementors."

“You don’t really think we’re going to go and fight Dementors, do you?” Abbott waved his wand nonchalantly, a nonchalant expression on his face. “They’ve been trapped in Azkaban for hundreds of years.”

“Practice hard, Abbott,” Snape told him. “Who knows what might happen? It’s always good to be prepared.”

After saying that, he continued to recall all the happy moments in his mind over and over again, and silently recited the guardian deity incantation in his heart over and over again.

It wasn't until almost the end of get out of class that Snape's Patronus, which had been summoning, became more solid from its initial formless cloud of mist—a slender silver shadow shot out from the tip of his wand and twisted in the air.

Although its shape is long and narrow, it looks a bit strange and is not quite the quadruped he expected.

"What kind of animal are you?" Abbot chuckled, a hint of teasing in his eyes. "My long-bodied fluffy one?"

"I can't be bothered with you." Snape rolled his eyes at him and put away his wand.

Looking around, Snape noticed that a few other students had also successfully released silvery-white smoke.

Pandora is making rapid progress. The guardian she summoned is small in stature, but you can already see its two long ears, and it is bouncing restlessly in the air.

James and Sirius had also made great progress. Wisps of smoke rose from the tips of their wands, forming some kind of beast. James held up his wand, constantly showing off his achievement to those around him.

Sirius Black had already put away his wand and was leaning lazily against the table. His expression was haughty and weary.

Wormtail stared at them in awe, his mouth agape. Every time a puff of white mist rose from the tip of James' wand, Wormtail would clap and cheer, panting heavily.

Lupin stood beside them, his eyes filled with frustration and helplessness, holding his wand with a worried expression, without making any move.

Looking ahead, Snape saw Lily.

What broke free from the tip of her staff was not a shapeless cloud, but a dazzling, winged silver creature.

Snape squinted, trying hard to see what it was.

Perhaps it was a small bird? But there's no doubt it wasn't a doe.

(End of this chapter)