Chapter 717: Snape’s Double Standards
Kyle and Kanna hurried to the classroom, their conversation having delayed them, but they managed to arrive just before class began. Snape was already there, standing at the front with a piercing gaze fixed on the latecomers.
Truthfully, Snape's mood had been sour ever since learning a few days earlier that Kanna had snuck back from France. But what could he do? The moment he heard about her return, he had stormed furiously to the headmaster's office to confront whoever had dared interfere with his plans.
However, upon seeing Nicolas Flamel, with his snowy hair and unsteady gait, Snape's anger evaporated. Instead of demanding answers, he found himself thanking the venerable alchemist and personally escorting him out of the school.
There was no alternative. Even if Snape cared little for reputation, crossing someone over six centuries old was a gamble he wasn't willing to take. The man looked fragile enough to be toppled by a breeze. What if Snape's sharp words caused Flamel to keel over on the spot?
So, Snape swallowed his frustrations and saw Flamel off with uncharacteristic politeness. Yet, this didn't mean the matter was settled. Snape knew full well that Kyle was the reason for Kanna's return, and his disdain for their association burned hotter than ever.
"What are you standing there for?" Snape snapped, his voice cold as ice, his eyes narrowing as if the two students were errant potion ingredients out of place. "If you're late, find a seat. Or do you expect me to escort you personally?"
"Yes, Professor," Kyle replied quickly, pulling Kanna toward a seat in the last row. This only deepened Snape's scowl.
Kyle, however, was unfazed. He even raised an eyebrow in a small, defiant gesture. For a fleeting moment, Snape found himself wishing he were a true Death Eater, unburdened by any connection to Dumbledore. If that were the case, he could cast Sectumsempra on Kyle without hesitation.
Of course, that was merely a fleeting thought. In reality, Kyle's attention wasn't even on Snape. He was observing the classroom, surprised to see how quickly Snape had stamped his personality onto the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.
The windows were completely covered with thick curtains, leaving the space dimly lit by flickering candles. The walls were adorned with grim images of people suffering the effects of dark magic—wounds grotesque and limbs distorted. The effect was as unnerving as the jars of ominous ingredients displayed in the dungeons.
Before long, Snape's cold voice broke the silence. "Before we begin, I have something to say, and I expect you to listen closely and remember every word."