Hogwarts: I can load entries infinitely!

Devereaux suddenly stiffened, as if his whole body was frozen.

He turned his head mechanically, and sure enough he saw a black figure standing not far away, with his cloak raised slightly and a familiar stern expression on his face.

"Professor Snape, haha...why are you here?"

Devereaux forced a stiff smile, trying to hide his guilty conscience.

Snape crossed his arms and looked at him coldly, with a hint of impatience in his voice.

"I still want to ask you, have you written the lab report?"

Devereux scratched his head and smiled guiltily.

"Professor, wasn't this lab report... written by you all along?"

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched, revealing an almost imperceptible sneer.

"I think your ability is enough. From now on, you will be in charge."

Devereaux's face suddenly fell, and his whole figure was like a deflated balloon.

He muttered in a low voice: "Professor, you are not in class now, what can you do to busy yourself..."

When Snape heard this, his eyes darkened slightly, and then he turned to look at Dumbledore, his tone cold.

"My time needs to be spent on some 'important things'."

Devereux followed his gaze and looked at Dumbledore, who still maintained his gentle smile and seemed not to mind the meaning of Snape's words at all.

"Okay,"

Snape turned his head, his voice low and undeniably majestic.

"Go back to the laboratory quickly, and don't let me see you in other places that have nothing to do with the experiment next time."

Devereux muttered something under his breath.

"Yes, boss!"

Then he ran towards the underground classroom dejectedly, the depression on his face almost filling the entire Hogwarts.

Snape watched Devereux's back disappear at the end of the corridor, turned around, his sharp eyes fell on Dumbledore, his tone was low and scrutinizing.

"Did you tell him everything?"

Dumbledore still maintained his gentle expression and nodded slightly.

"Well, I've told you all I can. He has a right to know some truth."

The air between the two was stagnant, and they were both somewhat silent.

Snape's brows furrowed slightly, as if he was weighing something. After a moment, he spoke again.

"What about Potter? How is he doing now?"

Hearing this, Dumbledore raised an imperceptible smile on his lips and looked at Snape with a hint of teasing.

"Oh? Severus, you actually care about Harry's condition."

Snape's face instantly darkened, and there was a hint of gritted teeth in his tone.

"I care about Lily's son, not James Potter's."

Dumbledore chuckled and nodded in agreement, but his expression soon turned serious.

"Harry's condition is better than expected, but this is only a superficial phenomenon. His soul is affected more deeply and needs an expert in soul magic to diagnose. I heard from St. Mungo's that there will be a Dem before Halloween. Strong's master of soul magic comes to England to repair the equipment, and I plan to ask him to check it for Harry."

Snape nodded, his eyes looking thoughtful, but he soon asked another question.

"Why not just let Mesferos come and take a look? Isn't he known as the most authoritative master of soul magic in the United States?"

At the mention of the name "Mesferos", Dumbledore's expression changed obviously.

He shook his head, with a hint of helplessness in his tone.

"Of course I want to invite him, but you also know his style. Mesferos is particularly interested in young people who have just experienced major trauma and are fragile inside. Harry is his favorite 'target' right now."

——

The lights of the temporary hospital swayed slightly, making it look particularly quiet.

Madam Pomfrey had just cast a layer of complex protective magic on Harry's door, and the wand in her hand was emitting a faint blue light.

She turned to the nurses beside her and said in a serious but firm tone.

"This room is very dangerous. All future affairs, including food delivery, will be handled by me personally. You are not allowed to come near, do you understand?"

The nurses nodded repeatedly, with a hint of awe in their eyes.

Madam Pomfrey glanced around with satisfaction, waved for everyone to disperse, and then checked the spell at the door alone, making sure it was correct before leaving.

However, just as the busy footsteps faded away, Harry was lying alone on the bed in the ward.

His face was buried in his hands, his shoulders were shaking slightly, and tears fell down between his fingers.

"I'm sorry...Ron...I really can't control myself..."

His voice was almost inaudible, filled with deep regret and pain.

Suddenly, Harry felt something strange.

He raised his head and found that the temperature of the room seemed to have dropped a few degrees. The originally warm air had become bitingly cold. Even the weak sunlight outside the window seemed to be swallowed by some force, and the entire ward fell into darkness.

Harry's heartbeat suddenly accelerated. He looked around, trying to find the source of the strangeness.

At this moment, his eyes fell on the bedside, and he suddenly took a breath of cold air.

There, there stood a figure - a tall man with a strange outline.

His skin was as black as coal, and the lines on his face were as ferocious as if they had been randomly carved by a knife blade.

Those eyes shone with a faint light, like a demon peering at its prey in the abyss.

Harry recognized him.

This is none other than their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—Professor Mesferos.

But the question is, how did he get in?

The guardian magic outside the door should be strong enough that not even a Niffler can get through, let alone an adult.

Harry opened his mouth, ready to scream loudly, but before his voice came out, a slender, cold finger pressed his lips.

"Shh-"

Mesphilos's voice was low and hoarse, with an undoubted sense of oppression, and at the same time, it revealed a strange affinity.

He leaned down slightly and approached Harry, showing an expression that was half-smiling.

"Little Harry," he whispered in a voice like a viper's, "do you want to play a game?"

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