Snape was growing tired of humiliating the Marauders.
On one hand, with Professor Flitwick's watchful eyes on him, there was no way he could go too far with Sirius. On the other, out of consideration for Harry's sake, he was willing to grant his godfather a sliver of dignity.
So, he decided to change tactics.
Of course, seeing the fury burning in Sirius's eyes, Snape also understood that no matter how conciliatory he might act now, Sirius would never let things go so easily.
Snape turned toward Professor Flitwick, who was busy reinforcing the magical wards around the dueling platform, and asked, "Professor, I have a small request. Before the match begins, could I have a word with Sirius?"
"There's nothing to talk about between us," Sirius said coldly.
"No, I promise," Snape replied, fixing him with a sharp, knowing look and curling his lips into a meaningful smile. "If you miss this chance, Padfoot, you'll regret it."
At the mention of "Padfoot," a flash of panic flickered in Sirius's silvery-gray eyes.
Although James had already told the group that the Marauder's Map had gone missing, he had no idea how Snape had managed to connect those nicknames to their real identities.
Sirius glared at Snape for a long moment, his throat tightening, before finally nodding stiffly.
The two of them moved to a corner of the Great Hall.
Under the effect of the Muffliato Charm, Snape began, "Sirius, James means a lot to you, doesn't he?"
"What are you getting at, Snivellus?" Sirius growled, his wand hand trembling, nearly jabbing it into Snape's chest. "Say what you mean."
"Mind your tone, Sirius," Snape said calmly, stepping back half a pace, a polite smile playing at his lips. "I simply mean, to you, James must be the most important person in the world, right?"
"So what if he is?" Sirius's patience was visibly wearing thin. "Stop wasting time. Let's duel."
"Good," Snape said, smiling in a way he thought was friendly. "Padfoot, you wouldn't want the Ministry of Magic to find out that Prongs is an unregistered Animagus, would you?"
Sirius clearly didn't take Snape's smile as a gesture of goodwill.
At those words, his face turned deathly pale, as if he'd just swallowed a handful of Bogey-Flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
"What do you want..." Sirius breathed, his voice trembling.
Snape crossed his arms over his chest, speaking unhurriedly. "According to Article Five, Section Two of the Animagus Registration and Regulation Act, revised in 1842, all Animagi are required to file an official registration with the Animagus Registry Office under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within ten days of their first transformation."
"And what of it?" Sirius asked hoarsely, glancing at Snape from the corner of his eye, his voice low and uneasy.
"No need to rush," Snape said mildly, giving a small cough and pausing deliberately before continuing. "Under Article Twenty-One, Section Three of that same Act, anyone who engages in Animagus activity without proper registration is subject, upon conviction by the Wizengamot High Court of Magical Law, to no less than five years in Azkaban, or life imprisonment."
"What the hell do you want from me!" Sirius hissed through gritted teeth, nearly shouting. "If you dare to-"
"Don't make empty threats," Snape interrupted, raising a hand and tapping Sirius lightly on the chest. "I won't tell anyone, so long as, in a few minutes, you tell Professor Flitwick that you forfeit."
"As long as I surrender," Sirius said, still glaring daggers at Snape, "you swear you won't expose this?"
"That depends on your future behavior," Snape said with a sickly sweet smile, his voice dripping with false gentleness. "After all, Prongs isn't the only unregistered Animagus, is he, Padfoot?"
When they returned to the dueling platform, Snape's expression remained as calm as ever, while Sirius looked like a wild beast forced into submission, his eyes full of frustration and helpless fury.
Sirius's face was gray with anger as he said tonelessly to Professor Flitwick, "Professor, I'm not a match for Snape. I forfeit."
Professor Flitwick froze for a moment before asking in surprise, "Are you certain, Black?"
"I'm certain." Sirius nodded stiffly and turned on his heel, leaving the Great Hall without another word.
"Severus Snape..." Professor Flitwick announced weakly, "...is the champion of the Sixth-Year Dueling Tournament."
That evening's matches concluded there. The next day would feature cross-year challenges between the year-level champions.
The following day, the young Hufflepuff girl with the bright yellow hairband faced off against a Ravenclaw second-year boy. With nimble precision, she used the Tickling Charm to make him surrender in laughter, leaving the boy so humiliated that he gave up on challenging the third-year champion altogether.
Snape particularly appreciated her restraint, her decision to stop there rather than continue. After all, from third year onward, professors began teaching genuine combat and defensive spells in class.
The third-year champion faced Barty Crouch Jr. next, and barely had time to react before losing decisively.
After defeating Dirk Cresswell, Barty Crouch Jr. hesitated for a long time, staring at Snape before finally gritting his teeth and requesting to challenge him.
At this time, Barty Crouch Jr. was still a tall boy, handsome, with deep brown eyes, freckled, paper-pale skin, and a tousled head of pale blond hair that fell into his face.
Snape looked at Barty's pale yet striking features and felt a flicker of unease.
Despite his seemingly timid demeanor, and the fact that he was only a fourth-year, Barty's magical prowess was nearly on par with Snape's own.
From his dueling performances over the past few days, Snape privately admitted he wasn't entirely confident he could defeat him.
More importantly, Snape thought, this was the same man who, years later, would manage to disguise himself as Mad-Eye Moody, a veteran member of the Order of the Phoenix, right under Dumbledore's nose. If not for his own impatience and loose tongue, he might have continued that deception flawlessly, or even eliminated Harry entirely.
To Snape, that made Barty Crouch Jr. the most dangerous Death Eater of them all, more dangerous even than Voldemort himself.
If only I could steal such a brilliant man away from Tom's side, Snape thought, what an achievement that would be.
The magical barriers around the dueling stage shimmered to life again and Snape slowly drew his wand.