Devereux looked at the fleeting melancholy on Snape’s face, momentarily at a loss for words.
He had never seen the professor display such an expression, as if death were to him nothing more than a trivial, even somewhat ironic interlude.
Hearing Snape’s words, Devereux’s mind became even more chaotic. He felt like he had been thrown into a boiling pot of primordial soup, completely unable to sort out his thoughts.
Chapter 413