The basement of Hogwarts.
The black stone walls, solemn and oppressive, were lined with shelves crowded with all manner of glass jars, each containing odd, grotesque things.
Amidst the colorful liquids floated specimens of snakes, scorpions, toads, and even the eyeballs and organs of unidentifiable creatures.
In the center of the room stood a wide rectangular table, atop which rested scales, glassware for measuring solutions, and beakers filled with dried herbs.
Several copper crucibles perched on iron stands, likely simmering some mysterious magic potion, as the room was saturated with that indescribable, unique scent all magic potions share. This was now the Head of Slytherin House's office, and suspected to have once served as Hogwarts' chamber for cruel punishments.
Now, after so many years, it seemed to be returning to its previous function. Marcus Flint, whose family had significant connections within the Ministry of Magic, had been tied to a chair by Snape for several hours already.
Of course, Snape was not torturing Marcus Flint; his methods for obtaining information were simply a throwback to older times—at least, that was how he planned to submit his report.
"Glug, glug, glug~"
Potion bubbles rose from the crucible.
From endless shouting at the start,
to utter unconsciousness by now.
Marcus Flint had undergone dozens of rounds of Snape's particular "hospitality"—all sorts of bottles and jars on the table beside the chair were now empty.
Besides an overdose of Truth Serum, there were plenty of other potions with varied effects, and whatever was brewing in those crucibles tonight was likely Marcus Flint's dinner.
This was, of course, not permitted by school policy, nor was it an approved form of punishment by the Ministry of Magic—only, the true Dark Wizard of Hogwarts, Snape, obviously cared nothing for moral restraint.
The words "Death Eater".
What more needs to be said?
"Slytherin does not need a student like this—to be lured to Hogwarts Village by a mere stripper's calling card, he's even more pathetic than those idiotic Gryffindor pigs!"
Snape lifted his magic wand and cast a spell on Marcus Flint. After all, he had cleansed his name as a Dark Wizard—whether or not to use the Forgetfulness Spell was the essential difference between him and other Dark Wizards. The Flint family's influence in the Ministry certainly posed a problem, but if Marcus remembered nothing, then the problem naturally vanished.
Connections?
Nothing works better than a wand.
"Severus, I hope I'm not interrupting your work." Snape had just finished mixing a hallucinogenic-hued potion, when he turned to see Dumbledore had appeared in his office, with no telling when he'd arrived.
"Albus, you… what brings you here?"
Startled, Snape took several steps back, nonchalantly moving the potion behind his back—clearly not something he wanted Dumbledore to discover.
"I just want an update on Mr. Flint's situation as soon as possible." Dumbledore glanced at Marcus Flint, still bound to the chair.
"It was the Imperio, no doubt. If I hadn't tied him up, I wouldn't have been able to fulfill your request—he could have attacked me and tried to kill me at any moment."
Snape hurried to explain why he had treated Marcus Flint in this way.
The Imperio.
One of the three Unforgivable Curses.
The cursed feel their minds blank, all sense of responsibility and thought erased, and in utmost euphoria and pleasure, they obey the voices in their heads to do anything.
Even if ordered to kill their own parents, they would do so, smiling and without hesitation—only those of the strongest will could resist, even slightly.
"As expected."
Dumbledore nodded gently.
Neither approval nor denial.
"Did you find anything useful in Mr. Flint's mind?" Dumbledore walked over to the still-unconscious Marcus Flint.
Under Snape's somewhat startled gaze,
he raised his wand,
aimed it at Marcus Flint's temple, and soon, a memory like a strand of silver was extracted and stored in a special container, as if already prepared for this purpose.
"The caster's methods were highly advanced, and exceedingly cautious—even while altering Flint's memories, not a single trace of their identity was left in his mind." Snape thought Dumbledore's actions were odd—was he suspicious Snape might fabricate the truth?
Was a Death Eater really behind this?
Had Dumbledore stopped trusting him?
For a moment,
Snape's brow knit tightly together.
"It seems the hidden little rat has a decent level of teaching skill—Flint is not a particularly gifted wizard, and yet in a single night, he was taught your Sectumsempra, and then used it to murder our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Dumbledore performed Legilimency without even direct eye contact—no wonder so many feared him.
"Yes, and Flint was foolish enough to add the name Prince as a flourish, then come running to us with his own accusation—just an attempt to take petty revenge for his family's friend."