[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]
Third Person POV
London.
...
...
The news of the hunts for dark wizards was not limited to England alone. An event of this nature would inevitably make headlines in international newspapers, catching the attention of people worldwide. A series of murders in England would draw interest from others, even outside the country, as they received the news and found it intriguing.
In a castle surrounded by a dark and viscous swamp, one such person outside England was observing the newspaper with more intense attention than most. Sitting in a large dining hall at a long table, a girl with crimson eyes and hair as brilliantly red as her gaze focused intently on the paper before her, a faint smile curving her lips.
She turned the page to examine other articles, which also reported on the "Hogsade Killer."
"It's him..." she murmured thoughtfully. "I'm sure it's the sa person."
"But he's fighting differently here, using only blades... Even so, his teleportation seems to be the sa as what we faced—a kind of magic I'm unfamiliar with, but incredibly fast. Where did he learn that...?" As she analyzed the accounts she read, she couldn't stop murmuring to herself, pondering how Snape could kill so many wizards at once.
"Could he be from Hogwarts?" Examining so details, everything seed to point toward Hogwarts, which ant he might be a student.
"I knew he was young, but a student…"
She couldn't suppress a brief smile before turning the page again to read further. At that mont, the door to the enormous room opened, and a middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a fine suit and exuding a dignified deanor, entered. He approached her with a tender smile.
"Good morning. What are you reading, my daughter?" he asked calmly, stopping beside her.
"Good morning, Father. I'm reading about so events that happened in England," she replied as he raised an eyebrow.
"England? Did sothing happen? Did you find that scoundrel who attacked you so ti ago? Tell , and I'll go after him imdiately," the man said firmly, his tone protective of his precious daughter.
"No, Father. I've already asked you not to go there in that situation, and I've already admitted that I provoked him myself. I was wrong..." she responded.
"Then what are these newspapers about...?" he asked, glancing at the pages as his daughter spoke.
"But in any case, I'm sure it's him... Look at this." She handed the newspaper to him, pointing to an article.
He examined the content and raised an eyebrow.
"Well, this isn't sothing you see every day," he murmured, his tone slightly impressed.
"Yes. Father, may I go to England?" she asked, looking directly at him.
"Why are you so interested in this strange man who, apparently, only wants to spread chaos?" he retorted, crossing his arms.
"It's just that you haven't seen a human with such an affinity for the power of death," she explained. "Besides... I want to talk to him..." She paused for a mont, while her father observed her closely, trying to understand her reasoning for this strange fascination.
"He doesn't have a bad sll…"
"So..." he broke the silence. "Is that all you have to say, daughter? My answer is no." He decided firmly.
"Father, you don't understand!" she exclaid, frustrated. "You know very well why I haven't married in 200 years! Everyone has terrible slls, even those idiots you've been trying to introduce to for over 100 years and all the magical and non-magical humans I've ever t in my life!"
"What's wrong with trying to find a marriage for you? After all, Lord Aelthar Wispbane and Duke Morcant Spectrewood would have been excellent husbands for soone like you, my little princess!" he said with a sweet smile before turning serious again.
"But you refused all of them," he added, shaking his head.
"Of course I refused!" she snapped, irritated. "Aelthar was a pure werewolf, and Morcant was a poltergeist! I didn't like either of them—they stank, and I couldn't even get near them. I don't even like vampires! Besides slling bad, I prefer soone who at least has a minimally decent appearance. But humans stink too, and I have to use things on my nose just to interact with the magical world!"
"Even so, you've never found anyone," he teased, raising an eyebrow. "My daughter, you're stuck on the shelf." He spoke with an exaggerated expression of mock sadness, while the girl looked at him, even more frustrated.
"It's because everyone stinks! You don't know what it's like to get close to soone and feel that horrible sll!" she replied, crossing her arms and pouting. Then, pointing to the newspaper, she added, "But this one... No. He doesn't stink. I've never t anyone like that. Moreover, I felt a great power within him, the power of death. It's no wonder the curses he cast were far more powerful than anything any other wizard could muster."
He remained silent for a mont before comnting, "But you said you provoked him, correct?"
She pressed her lips together imdiately, hesitating before speaking. "It's true. I wanted to test his strength, so I provoked him. I even tried to give him a book, but he didn't take kindly to the test I put him through. We fought... Well, you heard the news, didn't you? We fought for real," she admitted.
"And in the end... he tried to kill you?" the man asked, but as he spoke the last word, his eyes turned red, and his entire appearance seed to shift. The room began to darken, and the atmosphere beca suffocating.
"I will never forgive anyone who tries to kill my precious daughter!" he declared, his tone so overwhelming it could crush the spirit of most beings, magical or mundane. His aura grew dark, and his eyes glowed an intense red. It had been centuries since Dracula had been this angry. Creatures in the swamp felt his fury and began fleeing from the vicinity of the castle.
"Calm down, Father! Calm yourself!" the girl murmured, trying to bring him back to reason.
"Why should I?" he snapped, still engulfed in his rage.
"Because I caused this! I provoked him! It was my fault. You can't be so overprotective," she exclaid. Finally, the man relented, nodding and returning to his normal state.
"I suppose you're right... But I still don't think I'll accept a wizard marrying my precious daughter. Especially an unknown one who tried to kill her!" he huffed. The room had returned to normal, now illuminated once again by the candles.
"Wait, Father! You can't be so harsh. I finally found soone I can get close to without feeling disgusted. I won't let you ruin my date!" she exclaid, stomping her foot on the floor.
"Date?! Where did you learn that word? Tell imdiately!" he exclaid, reverting to his overprotective tone.
"It was my older sister who taught that... She said a man and a woman go on dates, and she went on them with her husband before they got married!" she replied, crossing her arms.
"But you're far too young for that! You're only 200 years old!" he declared, increasing his protective stance even further.
"You tried to marry off to non-human creatures! What are you even talking about?" she retorted, raising her voice for the first ti in the discussion. She had always avoided the topic, refusing to marry, but now she faced a side of her father she couldn't understand.
"But they were ant to be your fiancés! You wouldn't have gotten married for another 500 years!" he asserted, and her mouth fell open in shock.
"You can't be serious, Father! 500 years?!" she gasped.
"Of course I am. After all, if you leave, I'll be alone, sleeping in my coffin for hundreds of years with nothing much to do. It'll be so sad, watching my second daughter leave ho..." he said, his tone dripping with cynical lodrama.
"But I gave you that painting! You seem more excited about that painting than about having or my older sister around!" she muttered, pouting. "Father, you're so shaless!"
"But that painting... Ah, it's the best gift anyone could have given . It's incredible. It emanates a power I've never felt before. It seems to hold a secret, but I can't quite discern it. That thing definitely doesn't seem to belong to this world," he mused, stroking his chin, clearly lost in thought about the mysterious gift his daughter had bought for him for 100,000 Galleons.
"Fine. When will I be able to go to England?" she asked, still crossing her arms, waiting for an answer.
He looked at her with a disapproving glint in his eyes before sighing and replying, "If you really want to go, wait until the year ends. You can go after the Christian holiday," he said.
"Alright," she murmured. "Anyway, the older sister is coming today, right?"
He nodded. "Yes, she's coming with her husband. She'll be here shortly. So, I ask that you put those England newspapers aside and prepare to welco your sister. It's been more than 15 years since she last visited. After all, all my daughters are leaving ..." He spoke once again with a mock crying expression.
The young human-vampire stood up, stowed the newspapers, and began walking toward the outside. She passed through the corridor lined with living armors, poised and ready to confront any intruder.
While this was unfolding in Romania, Snape had been spending the past few weeks in isolation in England. The Ministry of Magic had been searching for him relentlessly, especially after he sent a letter stating that he was traveling and refusing any summons, claiming he didn't know what they were talking about regarding a recent abduction, as it wasn't him.
There was even a letter from the school's headmaster requesting his return to Hogwarts, with all expenses paid by the headmaster himself. But Snape ignored it. He had no desire to see the headmaster at that mont, preferring to focus solely on his training. This focus had occupied him for over a month.
Two months had passed since he left Hogwarts at the end of the term. During that ti, he received letters from various correspondents, but he ignored most of them. His primary goal was to increase both his magical and physical strength, dedicating himself to training. In this period, he achieved a new level of skill in storm magic, expanding his capabilities and developing new techniques.
However, he paused this training as Christmas approached. He decided it was ti to visit the Greengrass mansion and had also just received good news: The goblins of Gringotts inford him that they had mastered the forging technique he required and were ready to create the sword he had requested.
Now, the only thing missing was the materials for its fabrication. This, however, was no longer an issue. Thanks to Steve, he had found reliable suppliers outside the country, working through illegal channels to acquire extrely rare items unavailable in England.
All the materials were sent to the bank as soon as Snape confird everything was ready. A cart ca to pick up the items personally, escorted by several goblins, ensuring no one in the wizarding world knew about it. The materials, which had cost more than 100,000 Galleons, were taken to Gringotts, where the sword's production would finally begin.
On that sa day, Snape decided to leave his place of isolation. After accepting Clarisse's invitation, he packed his belongings, tidied up his appearance, and organized the space where he had been training. Dressed appropriately, he stepped out of his ho and locked it with a spell before approaching the fireplace.
With a handful of Floo powder, he murmured his destination and vanished.
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