Once the normal school term began, Cyrus would occasionally go to Professor Snape's office at night to ask questions about Potions. Although Professor Snape always acted impatient, he would offer his own unique insights into every single question.
Because Medusa was terrified of Cyrus, on the nights Cyrus was there, she would slither along the stone walls to stay somewhere else, only returning after Cyrus had left. Since Cyrus could not channel her own magic, Potions—which required no wand—was the only thing that gave her a sense of participation.
At first, Professor Snape would drop broad hints that she could go to Dumbledore or Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing to examine her magical blockages. He already knew Cyrus's attitude toward Dumbledore, but he hadn't expected her to be equally reluctant to visit the Hospital Wing.
Whenever Cyrus was injured, she always tended to it herself. Minor issues she would simply grit her teeth and endure until they healed; for things she couldn't fix on her own, like her fracture last time, she would find an empty classroom to brew a potion. Only when she ran into materials she couldn't immediately purchase or ran into difficulties with a recipe would she consult Professor Snape, though such occasions were exceedingly rare.
Lynna Shafiq and the others seemed to have given up on retaliating against Cyrus—at least Professor Snape never saw them giving her a hard time in public again.
Professor Snape's curiosity about Cyrus had never faded. Their contact over the past few days had revealed to him that the girl possessed an extraordinary grasp and talent, even if it might only be for potion-making. Many concepts he explained just once, yet Cyrus could draw inferences about others and deduce deeper research from them.
There was also knowledge she had no business knowing, even if only in a superficial sense. But for a first-year young witch, he didn't believe Cyrus should have such an extensive reading habit.
"What on earth were you doing before?"
Though he knew the girl wouldn't answer, Professor Snape couldn't help but let it slip. Every time he tried to guess the girl's background, he couldn't help associating her with the Dark Lord. And those deep, azure pupils bore a striking resemblance to Dumbledore's.
As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Professor Snape shuddered. How could that possibly be? Cyrus paused her stirring, lowering her head slightly. "If Professor Snape is interested in my origins, you will never get an answer. Because I don't even know myself."
"Then... aren't you curious at all?"
"Not in the least. What good would knowing do? I am Cyrus, and I am only Cyrus."
Professor Snape recalled what Dumbledore had said before: the girl longed for death. She had no interest in who she was, possessed no desires, and seemed to have no thoughts about the future.
"Sir... why did you save me that day?"
"There aren't that many whys! You are my student!"
"But I wasn't back then."
"..."
"..."
Professor Snape himself didn't know why his head had suddenly grown hot at that moment. He could easily have ignored the girl; she had nothing to do with him to begin with.
Perhaps it stemmed from a resonance—something Professor Snape would only gradually come to understand years later. It hadn't been him saving a child's life at all, but rather a deep resonance between two people who had fallen into the mire. In that unfathomable darkness, he had seen an existence identical to his own. But that was a story for another time.
Their conversation drew to a brief close, and the two sat in silence. Then, with a hint of retaliation, Professor Snape pulled out two large barrels of flobberworms and told Cyrus to deal with them. Amidst a silent and awkward atmosphere, a knock sounded on the office door.
Seraphina Travers, the Slytherin female prefect, entered after Professor Snape's prompt, looking rather anxious. "Professor Snape, a few Gryffindor students sneaked into the Slytherin common room to cause trouble. Sam and the others chased them toward the Gryffindor common room!"
Furious, Professor Snape slammed the book in his hand onto the desk. "Finish dealing with these and get back immediately!"
With that, he swept his black robes and strode out rapidly. Professor Snape's wizarding robes were large and billowing, fluttering behind him with his anxious strides like a giant bat in flight.
Angus, resting by the door, was startled by the menacing black bat. Seraphina Travers glanced sidelong at Angus with a cunning look in her eyes, then followed Professor Snape toward the upper floors.
Not long after, Cyrus simply washed the stain-covered knife and her hands, tidied up that section of the room, and left. The moment she pushed open the stone door and looked at the empty spaces on either side, her breath caught.
"Angus... Angus," Cyrus murmured, looking around. She felt a bone-chilling cold all over, unable to catch her breath. She bolted like a madwoman toward the Slytherin common room, bursting through the doors only to find no sign of him there either. Panic seized her all the more.
She felt the blood rush backward through her body. The magic that had been dormant and silent like stagnant water began crashing within her. A burning sensation scorched her soul. Clutching the wall, she stumbled forward step by step, past caring about her physical condition. The pull from the depths of her soul drew her toward the Forbidden Forest.
Cyrus ran recklessly into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. She didn't head for the lake; instead, she followed that familiar connection from her soul to a region of undulating terrain choked with fog.
Spiderwebs hung everywhere. Cyrus had previously discovered this was the habitat of an Acromantula colony and had wisely stayed far away. A single Acromantula was already difficult to deal with—their venom acted with terrifying speed once it entered the body, and they were massive. That wasn't even factoring in a colony of hundreds living together.
The distinct clicking sounds of Acromantula chelicerae echoed clearly. The clicking grew louder from all directions, and several massive spiders dropped from the towering tree canopy...
Professor Snape walked ahead of the Slytherin boys with a terrifying expression. "Reckless and foolish! To lose the trail while chasing a bunch of stupid lions! If this is your idea of bravery without brains, it is an utter disgrace to Slytherin! Now get back to your quarters, instantly!"
Shooting a malevolent glare at the boys, he massaged his temples. Why were modern students so utterly maddening? Those foolish Gryffindor trolls had actually dared to run into the Slytherin common room to cause trouble, and hadn't even been caught.
Thinking of how he had burst into the Gryffindor common room earlier without catching a single culprit made Professor Snape's teeth itch with rage. Professor McGonagall was another one fiercely protective of her students, refusing to yield an inch.
Suddenly, a flash of fire appeared before his eyes. Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, dropped a note and vanished instantly.
Snape knew this was the method Dumbledore used to contact him in emergencies. The note contained only two words: Forbidden Forest!
When Professor Snape reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he felt an intensely violent surge of magical turbulence. Beasts bolted past him, and the panicked cries of birds echoed back and forth. Had some powerful magical creature in the Forbidden Forest gone out of control? The deeper he went into the forest, the more intense that suffocating dread became.
Dumbledore's anxious, stern voice rang out: "Severus! Go to the Acromantula colony! I need to calm the agitated beasts and the Centaurs!" Following a heavy stench of blood, Professor Snape advanced cautiously. The Acromantula colony! Snape lost count of how many shattered Acromantula bodies and limbs he stepped on along the way.
The damp soil on the ground was stained red with blood, and the turbid air mixed with spider fluids and gore beat against Professor Snape's bloodless face. The rustling sound of insect limbs scraping the earth, the crisp clicking, and... Professor Snape's brain buzzed. And—that desolate, melodious hum.
Snape looked at the girl in the distance, surrounded by piles of spider corpses. Before her, a house-sized Acromantula lay flat on its back, struggling, its eight thick legs broken—three... four... The clicking sounds never stopped, and with every snap came a piercing shriek from the spider.
The girl was covered from head to toe in green slime, with remnants of spiderwebs clinging to her limbs. Warm fluid seeping from her face obscured her features, and her slightly parted lips softly hummed a melodic tune. This time, Professor Snape finally caught the call hidden within the mournful notes:
"Because we relish its brilliance,
Because we endure its decay.
You say don't chase, yet linger with reluctance."
"So life—is bitter as a song..."
Spiders swarmed from the distance like a tidal wave, surrounding the two of them. Professor Snape drew his wand and stepped in front of the girl. "Sectumsempra!" Streaks of invisible air blades flew forth, cleanly severing the spiders leaping toward him.
He thought rapidly on how to break through the encirclement with the girl behind him. At that moment, a fierce gale grazed his ear from behind, tearing two or three lunging spiders to shreds.
The girl stepped out from behind him, her hollow, blood-shot eyes filled with killing intent. With every step she took forward, a cracking sound rang through the air. The manic magic within her continued to swell, as if it had finally returned to where it belonged, freely commanded by the girl.
A powerful magical pressure crushed the spiders trying to advance one by one, harvesting lives like the Grim Death. Fluids splattered, carcasses burst, flesh and blood flew—it was a living hell.
Then came a deathly silence. The largest Acromantula gasped for breath, still trying to struggle. It was old now, and its eight eyes could no longer see clearly. Yet it could still dimly perceive its children and grandchildren dying one by one beneath the hands of that young witch.
Driven by beastly instinct, the remaining Acromantulas fled in all directions under the terrifying weight of Cyrus's magic. Seeing that terrifying girl walking toward it once again, it actually uttered human speech:
"No! Not us! A group of little wizards threw that dog into the Forbidden Forest!"
Boom! The magical pressure surrounding the girl intensified, tearing even Professor Snape's black robes with invisible force.
"Cyrus!! Stop! He is my friend, Cyrus! Aragog!"
Hagrid's rough shouts echoed as he hurried over with a kerosene lamp, rushing in front of Aragog to block Cyrus. His massive body stood like a wall, shielding his friend behind him.
Snape attempted to grab Cyrus's shoulder at that moment, only to have his palm slashed open by a fierce gust of wind. Fang's wailing echoed from the side, whimpering so helplessly. Fang nudged a stiff, cold corpse on the ground with his nose, greenish blood congealed into his soft brown fur.
The abdomen was sunken, as if all the internal organs and flesh inside had vanished entirely. Snape knew this was the spiders' signature way of feeding—they liked to inject venom into their prey, and once all the organs melted into liquid, they would suck them dry.
Looking at Angus's flattened, mummified corpse, Hagrid choked out, "I... Cyrus, I didn't know... but Aragog... I beg you... don't!" He was practically pleading with Cyrus.
"You cherish your friend... Then—what about mine?"
Cyrus's blood-red eyes glared at Hagrid. Then she raised her right hand and clenched it into a fist. "Argh—Hagrid, save me!" Aragog's two remaining legs snapped once more.
"Who was it?"
"Ah! I don't know!"
Snap!
"Cyrus! Sob, sob, I'm begging you!" Hagrid stepped forward to stop Cyrus, but his body seized up, turning to stone.
Run.
"Who—was it!"
"Some little wizards... wearing... wearing green robes!"
Aragog felt the bind on its body vanish. Trembling, it dragged its massive body forward on its remaining two legs toward the forest behind it. Behind it came a cold, piercingly clear, mocking voice:
"Ha... run... the next time you see me, how many of your children's lives—will be buried along with you?"