Hogwarts i am snape

Snape was growing rather weary of humiliating the Marauders.

Besides, his feelings towards Sirius Black were quite complicated.

While Sirius had always been James's best accomplice and had even tricked him into the Shrieking Shack, thinking of his godfather's wrongful imprisonment later in life – crossing seas, hiding in caves, living rough, eating rats, and then, just as he glimpsed the hope of a life with Harry, tumbling through the Veil – Snape's hatred for Sirius inevitably lessened a great deal.

Of course, seeing the uncontainable rage in Sirius's eyes, Snape understood that even if he backed down now, Sirius would never simply let it go.

Snape turned to Professor Flitwick, who was meticulously reinforcing the magical barriers around the dueling platform for him, and said:

"Professor, before the match, could I have a word with Sirius?"

"There's nothing to talk about between us," Sirius said coldly.

"Oh, but I assure you," Snape stared directly at Sirius, a meaningful smile playing on his lips, "if you don't talk, you'll certainly regret it later, **Padfoot**."

At the mention of "Padfoot," a flicker of alarm crossed Sirius's silver-grey eyes.

He glared at Snape for a moment, his throat bobbed, and finally, he gave a stiff nod.

The two walked to a corner of the Great Hall.

Under the influence of a **Muffliato Charm**, Snape began: "Sirius, James is very important to you, isn't he?"

"What do you want, Snivellus?" Sirius said through gritted teeth, his wand nearly pressing against Snape. "Just spit it out."

"Mind your language, Sirius," Snape said coolly, taking half a step back, a kindly smile on his face. "What I mean is, for you, James must be the most important person, wouldn't you agree?"

"What if he is?" Sirius was losing patience. "Stop wasting time. Let's get on with it."

"Good, then," Snape forced out what he thought was his friendliest smile. "**Padfoot**, you wouldn't want the Ministry of Magic to find out about **Prongs** being an unregistered **Animagus**, would you?"

But Sirius clearly didn't interpret Snape's smile as a sign of goodwill.

The words had barely left Snape's mouth when Sirius's face went white. His expression was as if he'd been forced to eat a bag of dried bogey-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"What do you want..." Sirius inhaled with a tremor.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and said unhurriedly, "According to Article 5, Paragraph 2 of the *Animagus Registration and Control Act (Revised 1842)*, all Animagi must submit a registration application to the Animagus Registry of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within ten days of their first transformation."

"So what?" Sirius shot Snape a guilty glance, asking in a low, hoarse voice.

"Don't be so hasty, you're always so impatient," Snape cleared his throat, deliberately pausing before continuing, "According to Article 21, Paragraph 3 of the *Act*, unauthorized Animagus activity without proper registration, upon conviction by the Wizengamot High Court, shall be punishable by imprisonment in Azkaban for five years or more, up to life imprisonment."

"What exactly do you want?!" Sirius roared, his voice low. "If you dare to speak out, I swear I'll—"

"Don't make empty threats," Snape interrupted him, gently tapping Sirius's chest. "I won't tell anyone, as long as you tell Professor Flitwick you forfeit the match."

"If I forfeit," Sirius glared at Snape, seething, "you promise you won't reveal this?"

"Well, that depends on your future conduct, doesn't it?" Snape chuckled, his voice sounding sickeningly sweet even to himself. "After all, Prongs isn't the only unregistered Animagus, is he, **Padfoot**?"

---

The two then returned to the edge of the dueling platform. Snape still wore a calm expression, while Sirius looked like a tamed beast, his eyes full of resentment and resignation.

Sirius's face was ashen as he emotionlessly told Professor Flitwick, "Professor, I am no match for Snape. I forfeit."

Professor Flitwick paused for a moment, then asked in surprise, "Are you sure, Black?"

"Yes," Sirius nodded mechanically, then turned and walked directly out of the Great Hall.

"Severus Snape..." Professor Flitwick weakly announced the result. "has won the Sixth-Year Dueling Championship..."

That evening's dueling schedule concluded, with inter-year challenges between the champions set for the next day.

In the next day's competition, the first-year Hufflepuff girl, wearing a bright yellow hair ribbon, cleverly used a Tickling Charm to make the second-year Ravenclaw boy beg for mercy and forfeit. The boy, thoroughly demoralized, then decided not to challenge the third-year champion.

What Snape particularly admired was her wise decision to stop there and not continue challenging higher years. After all, it was only from the third year that professors began teaching important combat and defensive spells in class.

The third-year champion, facing Barty Crouch Jr., had virtually no chance to fight back and was defeated without a doubt.

After defeating Dirk Cresswell, Barty Crouch Jr. hesitated for a long time, looking at Snape, before gritting his teeth and asking Professor Flitwick for permission to challenge Snape.

Barty Crouch Jr. was still a tall boy at this time. He was very handsome, with dark brown eyes and skin as pale as paper with freckles, and unruly light blond hair falling over his face.

Snape stared at Barty Crouch Jr.'s pale, handsome face, and couldn't help but feel a surge of caution.

Although Barty seemed somewhat timid in his demeanor and was only in his fourth year, his magical ability was already nearly on par with Snape's.

From Barty's dueling performance over the past few days, Snape genuinely didn't believe he had an absolute guarantee of defeating him.

More importantly, for someone who could successfully disguise himself as the old Order of the Phoenix member Moody right under Dumbledore's nose—and who, if not for his own eagerness and talkativeness, could have continued to lurk undetected or directly eliminated Harry—Snape was willing to call him a man more dangerous than Voldemort among the Death Eaters.

*What a wonderful thing it would be if I could pry such a formidable person from Tom's grasp and bring him to my side*, Snape thought.

The dueling platform's magical barriers had been re-established, and Snape slowly drew his wand.

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