Chapter 148: Snape meeting his ‘Master’.

    It wasn''t an illusion. Snape indeed saw a real person, and it was Cyrus himself.

    Not long ago, after leaving the Magical Injuries Hospital, Cyrus briefly returned to the Delis'' house, but he always felt uncomfortable there.

    So, he decided to visit Godric''s Hollow, the place where the Potters had once lived, to search for traces of the ancient magic that Lily had mastered.

    It was his first time visiting Godric''s Hollow. Unfortunately, perhaps due to the passage of time, the traces of magic had already faded.

    He was considering going inside to see if he could find anything when Snape appeared.

    Cyrus never expected to see Snape here. It wasn''t even a holiday; classes were still in session at Hogwarts.

    Moreover—

    "This kid really is reckless, thinking he can kill me with a sneak attack?" He hovered in the air, and the night could not block his sight.

    He considered whether to show himself. He wasn''t afraid of Snape, and now that Dumbledore seemed to have guessed his identity, there was no need to be overly cautious.

    So, he flew a circle in the air and landed behind Snape.

    This pitiful man seemed still immersed in the agony of his unfulfilled revenge, as if his bones had been removed. He had been gripping his wand so tightly just now, but now his fingers seemed too weak to bear its weight, allowing it to slip.

    Cyrus flicked his hand upward, summoning Snape''s wand before it could hit the ground.

    "Severus, you should always hold your wand tightly, or you might miss the opportunity for revenge," Cyrus said with a light laugh, offering Snape''s wand to him from behind.

    Snape felt as if he had plunged into an icy abyss.

    He stared at the wand held between those slender fingers but dared not move.

    His lips trembled, "Master..."

    "Take it!" Cyrus ordered.

    Snape quickly regained his composure. He had already prepared himself for death, so there was nothing left to fear.

    He took the wand, stepping back as he turned to put some distance between himself and Cyrus.

    His black eyes gazed at Cyrus, at this Dark Lord so different from the one in his memories. He couldn''t help but feel anxious.

    For a long time, neither of them spoke.

    Snape was waiting for his imminent punishment, while Cyrus was simply unsure of what to say.

    They were neither friends nor acquaintances; their meeting was a mere whim on his part.

    "Please, have a seat. How about a drink? Tea, coffee?" Cyrus asked, as if he were the host of the house.

    Snape couldn''t fathom what Cyrus was planning, but he had no choice but to comply. He sat down obediently, showing not a hint of displeasure, appearing more docile and composed than ever before in his life.

    "Tea will do."

    Cyrus promptly summoned two cups of clear tea with a summoning charm.

    "How is Harry doing recently?" Cyrus took a sip of tea and asked a question that caught Snape off guard.

    He was stunned for a long time, with a confused expression on his face.

    "You mean—Harry—Potter?"

    Snape found today''s events utterly absurd.

    The Dark Lord, whose name couldn''t even be mentioned, had casually invited him into the home of the woman he loved most. Then, like the home''s rightful owner, like a concerned guardian, he inquired about the boy''s well-being.

    What did he think today was?

    Hogwarts Home Visit Day?

    Cyrus was unaware of Snape''s thoughts. He felt a bit sad, seemingly pitying Harry: "I mean, Harry probably doesn''t know, does he? That his parents died on the night before Halloween."

    Absurd!

    It could even be called ludicrous!

    An indescribable fury rose within Snape. Had he forgotten who took that boy''s family away?

    Did he forget who cast the killing curse on the woman who begged him so hard?

    The flame seemed to light up the entire night, as if it was going to set the house on fire!

    Yet ultimately, it gradually extinguished in his long-dormant heart, turning into smoldering ashes.

    Perhaps it would reignite someday, but for now, only residual warmth remained.

    "He knows nothing, master..." Snape sat up straight, his entire body moving only his face, if that. It could be said only his mouth moved. His voice sounded weary, like someone wearing clothes soaked in water.

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