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"P-Professor Snape!"
Edgar's voice trembled as he recognized the black-robed figure slowly emerging from the shadows.
His tone carried the unmistakable despair of: We're doomed.
William and Ollie felt their hearts sink just as quickly.
Of all the luck—sneaking out at night only to run straight into Snape on patrol. The thought flashed through their minds in perfect unison.
Blocking their path was none other than Severus Snape—Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House.
…Wait. Why does it say he was blocking their path?
Because the moment before Snape appeared, Lynn's sense of danger spiked to its absolute limit.
Almost instinctively, he cast a Disillusionment Charm.
His figure melted into the air, slipping silently into a narrow corner where light barely reached. He held his breath, blending perfectly into shadow.
Snape's gaze swept slowly over Edgar, William, and Ollie, who stood frozen in place.
"It would seem," he said softly, "that Hogwarts rules are little more than decorations for certain… overly energetic students."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"So… where is the fourth? I distinctly heard more than three voices."
The three stiffened.
Edgar's mind went blank. He forced out a shaky lie, trying to cover for Lynn:
"P-Professor… it's just the three of us… We were curious about the newly opened area, so we came to take a look… There's no one else…"
His voice lacked any real conviction, and his eyes darted nervously.
From the shadows, Lynn silently gave him a thumbs-up.
Good brother. Loyal.
Even if that lie has more holes than a dancing troll.
Snape's eyes narrowed further.
"Attempting to deceive a professor with an intellect barely superior to a troll's," he said coolly. "Hufflepuff—five points deducted for lying. And for wandering the castle at night."
His gaze lingered.
He did not believe for a second that there were only three.
He had clearly heard Lynn's voice.
So where was he?
Snape's eyes began to move again—this time slower, sharper.
He examined everything.
The glass walls.
The stone floor.
The pillars.
The shifting edges of light and shadow.
Lynn's heartbeat quickened.
He forced himself to stay absolutely still, suppressing even the smallest movement.
His Disillusionment Charm was advanced—nearly flawless.
Snape's gaze swept past his hiding spot—
—and paused.
Just for a fraction of a second.
His brow creased ever so slightly.
He hadn't seen anything outright.
But something…
Snape sniffed, almost imperceptibly.
Years of brewing potions had given him an exceptionally sharp sense of smell.
Beneath the faint aquatic scent filtering through the glass corridor, there was something else.
A trace of sweetness.
Not sugary.
Not cloying.
Something refined.
Processed.
Like the lingering scent of a potion.
Snape's gaze shifted.
Followed the scent.
Locked precisely onto the shadowed corner.
This time, there was no doubt.
A thin smirk curled at his lips.
He stared directly at what appeared to be empty space, his voice dropping into something colder—commanding.
"Come out, Lynn."
A pause.
"Do not make me repeat myself."
Lynn, still hidden:
…Damn it. Dog nose.
He let out a quiet sigh.
There was no point continuing.
Snape had already pinpointed him.
The Disillusionment Charm faded.
His figure slowly emerged from the shadows, an awkward expression on his face as he stepped forward to join the others.
"…Professor," Lynn said, attempting a weak smile.
Snape gave a soft, contemptuous snort.
His gaze swept over all four of them.
"Ten points from each of you," he said coldly. "And for Mr. Lynn's… exceptional stealth, and for wasting a professor's time—an additional ten points."
A pause.
"As for your punishment…"
The Next Morning — Great Hall
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows as students gathered for breakfast, chatting about classes and the new term.
Near the Hufflepuff hourglass, a small group of early risers had gathered.
They stared.
Confused.
Last night, the hourglass had surged dramatically after Lynn's special award.
Now—
It had dropped.
Significantly.
Dozens of points gone.
Nearly half of Dumbledore's hundred-point award had vanished overnight.
"Merlin—what happened?"
"I heard Lynn and the others got caught by Snape last night…"
"That many points just for being out after hours?!"
"I think they also tried to lie to a professor…"
The discussion lasted… briefly.
Then—
It fizzled out.
The Hufflepuffs exchanged looks, shrugged, and calmly returned to breakfast.
A few offered Lynn and his roommates sympathetic pats on the shoulder, but otherwise—
Everything was… normal.
Did Hufflepuff care about the House Cup?
Of course.
But they didn't obsess over every point.
They cared more about whether the food was good, whether their friends were okay, and whether today's Herbology class would involve another screaming Mandrake.
Lost points?
Be more careful next time.
There was still plenty of time to earn them back.
That was the Hufflepuff way.
At one corner of the long table, Lynn and his dormmates ate in silence.
"Ugh—!"
Edgar sighed heavily, staring at his ham sandwich with zero appetite.
William viciously stabbed at a fried egg, as though personally offended by it. He glanced up, equally annoyed:
"It's just detention. Why are you sighing? Mine is helping Filch polish every suit of armor and portrait frame on the first floor—and I have to listen to him ramble about his glorious 'catching students' history the entire time!"
"Yours is manual labor!" Edgar shot back miserably.
"I got detention in Snape's office! I have to handle all kinds of sticky, smelly, and who-knows-what-horrible potion ingredients!
And on top of that, I have to endure his constant commentary—"
He straightened slightly, imitating Snape's voice:
"'Mr. Burns, if that troll-trampled brain of yours still retains the ability to distinguish pufferfish eyes from swelling solution, I suggest you increase your pace—currently comparable to that of a dying snail.'"
"'It would appear your parents neglected to teach you basic observational skills—or perhaps they never expected you to possess even a fraction of their already limited magical aptitude.'"
Edgar collapsed back into his seat dramatically.
"Merlin—I'd rather scrub every toilet in the castle ten times than listen to Snape's venom!"
Several nearby students looked over with sympathy.
Ollie quietly sipped his oatmeal, occasionally glancing at Lynn.
Unlike the others, Lynn seemed completely unbothered, calmly eating a bacon-and-toast sandwich.
His detention?
The Forbidden Forest.
With Hagrid.
Noticing Ollie's gaze, Lynn looked up mid-bite.
"Mmf—what?" he asked, still chewing. "Something wrong? Bacon not good?"
Ollie shook his head.
But the concern in his eyes only deepened.
He couldn't help remembering—
Every time Lynn got involved with the Forbidden Forest…
Something always happened.
This time…
…nothing would go wrong.
Right?