Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

The calming bell hammer swung left and right.

Click, click.

In the quiet room, on one side were students with eerie smiles, and on the other side were torches that had long been silent.

"combustion…"

"You are burning, professor." The girl squatted in the corner, the fire making her face hot.

The room became brighter and hotter. Then, it was as if it had been thrown into a jar filled with water, and before anyone could react, it went out with a bang - the bones turned into burnt powder and fell down, forming a handful of very fine ash.

The temperature finally stopped rising.

Harry stood up, tapped the tips of his shoes, walked to the window and pushed it open.

The summer evening breeze happily swept away the powder residue, and also swept away the girl's bird-like ethereal and happy mumbling to herself as she looked out at the ash clouds in the night sky.

The secrets traded for the shining gold returned soon after and took the lives of the traders.

"Goodnight, Professor Umbridge."

Chapter 164 The Angel's Child is a Devil

Dolores Umbridge is missing.

In her office.

This was a big deal - the Senior Undersecretary appointed by the Ministry of Magic disappeared in his own office, in the supposedly safe Hogwarts.

Dumbledore is to blame.

All the professors gathered in the room, and countless spells lit up and went out.

No trace of black magic, nothing.

"Ms. Umbridge couldn't be a bird Animagus that opened the window and flew away."

Harley stood in the corner.

When Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking, she found that Snape had been staring at her with a strange look - even when he was answering, those sinister eyes never moved away.

"I don't see any signs of anyone else casting a spell. Severus, is there a potion that can make a person disappear silently?" Dumbledore asked casually as he fiddled with her drawer, pulling it open and pushing it back in.

"...No." Snape stared at Harry, as if he was meeting her for the first time. "Those...were lost...long ago...Dumbledore."

The old principal had a bitter face and stood up and looked at the professors around him.

"I have to go to the Ministry of Magic again... I hope our Ms. Umbridge left on her own." He pushed the lens and looked at the girl in the corner: "Harry, did you find anything?"

Harley shook her head.

"Yesterday, before I left, Ms. Umbridge was writing a letter."

"Is there anything wrong with her?"

Still shaking his head.

"Okay... okay." Dumbledore sighed. Things were getting out of his control. If the Death Eaters could sneak into Hogwarts, why did they kill a senior member of the Ministry of Magic? To frame someone?

If it was a frame-up, why didn't they leave any traces of it?

If it were someone else...

Dumbledore glanced at Harry - Snape happened to turn around, and his long black robe blocked the old headmaster's view. He had a cold face, grabbed Harry's collar, and pulled her to his side.

"I... need to talk to her... Dumbledore. About a certain lawless young lady sleeping in my class... You know, with her sister, it's hard for me to catch her once..."

Dumbledore shrugged. "As long as you are sure it has nothing to do with potions, Severus, go ahead."

Snape nodded imperceptibly to the professors around him, then grabbed the stumbling Harry and left the office.

…………

……

The Potions Master's room always has a pungent smell.

I don't know how the people who use it endure it.

Jars of organ specimens soaked in yellow liquid covered three walls, with eerie candlelight, wind-dried animal heads and claws, and cold wind blowing through the gaps in the shelves, making a whistling sound.

The office became quiet only after the door was closed.

Boil the herbs for no other purpose than to make the room smell good.

A black crucible, white boiling water, gurgling and bursting bubbles, and rising white smoke.

Sweet aroma.

Severus Snape is like a gargoyle standing on the church all year round, with ugly chimera-like features of a griffin or a banshee, spitting water during heavy rains and being silent during hot days. The gods nailed them to the church, letting these ugly and scary things protect His sacred place, willingly or not, ordinary people who do not believe in this cannot tell, they just watch the fun.

Severus Snape, he didn't have to guard a building.

He was guarding the sacred place within himself - after today, would he still think so?

Ugly gargoyles and vampire bats at night.

Potions Master.

Gulp gulp gulp…

He took the slender stirring spoon out of the boiling water and knocked it on the wall of the crucible a few times, making a ding-ding sound. Then, he used a whole piece of fine and clean silk cloth to wipe it dry carefully, as if he was looking at a lover.

Very slowly.

Finally, put it back in place.

The pot of delicious-smelling potion is ready.

The flame will slowly die out, and as the temperature drops, the sweetness will fade a little bit.

"If some people weren't too pampered, I wouldn't spend my time doing such meaningless things."

Black Bat found a half-wet towel and wiped his fingers carefully. Harry was sitting not far away, at the other end of the desk, on a high chair, swinging his legs.

Those enchanting emerald eyes were totally different from their usual obedient appearance.

She hates the stinky, pungent smell here, so...

"Do you think I don't know what you did?" Snape pulled a chair over and sat down, looking at her indifferently. "Miss Potter, you are incredibly brave."

Does she know what she has done?

Harry didn't answer, but held his chin with his hand and hummed a strange song.

Look at him.

The phantom slowly overlapped with the girl's face without leaving a trace...

Lily…

Snape frowned and changed his address: "You don't want me to hand you over to Dumbledore. Harry, tell me, did you make that thing?"

The man anxiously performed a habitual little movement: he hid his palms in his sleeves and tapped the table lightly.

Yes, he lied.

As Dumbledore guessed, there is indeed an ancient potion that can kill people and leave no trace.

This vile recipe was lost to history long ago, and the handwritten record, written in encrypted magic script, is kept secret at the Ministry of Magic - guarded by the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries.

Harsh conditions: an extremely talented potion master, a rarely circulated recipe, and a vicious curse that comes to the potion maker after the potion is made.

"combustion?"

Snape tentatively said a name.

Harry was stunned.

"Professor Snape?"

The man looked at the girl who was as beautiful as a daffodil, and saw her familiar eyes looking at him.

"It's true that you were sorted into Gryffindor," he twitched his lips half-sarcastically, "You are not much different from those little trolls who act before they think."

Harry looked at the bony, pale man in front of him, "…Yes, burning potion, Professor."

A look of panic finally appeared on the man's face, which had never changed.

"Do you...know what you're talking about? Where did you see that?!"

In the information Hera gave her.

Snape felt panicky and suddenly felt out of control.

"You know what 'burning' is? You know what it costs to do it..."

"I know, Professor." Harry tilted his head, his bright eyes full of innocence. "But I have to do it."

"Potion: Burning"

A very special potion.

It cannot be detected by spells, cannot be reversed by magic, and is almost unnoticeable and leaves no traces - a simple and direct assassination potion: even if the wizards at that time knew that the deceased died of "burning", they would not be able to find the murderer.

Of course, it still is.

Therefore, each ruler will tighten the known burning production materials.

Harry Potter, what on earth are you doing?

"I have to kill Madam Dolores Umbridge."

The girl's frank words ignited the air in the room like a burning potion. The hot air rolled upwards, blowing up the half-written old paper on the table.

"you…"

"Because she's likely to have a problem with her sister." Harley's expression matched her age when she spoke, and 'killing' was as easy as 'I like chocolate chip cookies'. "She won't let it go. How can I make her shut up and stop her from getting in the way of her sister?"

Snape wanted to tell her to get out of his office, but he swallowed the words back.

He didn't know what the seemingly well-behaved but almost half-crazy student in front of him would do if he missed this conversation.

"Just because of this?" Snape folded his hands in a defensive posture. He stared at the girl sinisterly. Now, he finally understood: she was completely different from Lily Evans.

Only the eyes are similar.

Lily is an angel, the fireworks blooming above the summer lawn, and the incessant chirping of insects that he could not find in his countless lonely days and nights.

But the person he missed gave birth to a devil.

"'Just because of this'?" Harry blinked: "'Just'?" Shaking her head: "Professor Snape, you don't understand." She put her hands on the table, and the little black leather shoes under her stockings swayed.

"Sister is very important."

The childish smile gradually distorted in Snape's sight.

"I won't let Madam Umbridge cause her any trouble."

Snape's throat went dry.

The killing curse requires the caster to mobilize extreme emotions, but the potion does not.

As long as...the person who makes it can afford the price.

Harry Potter…

Is this kid half crazy?

Did she know what she had done?

Chapter 165 Treatment and Pride and Tsundere

"Potion: Burning"

It is cursed to make this potion.