Chapter 187 The Dispute on the Stairs

Moody's eyes only stayed on the side of the stairs for a few seconds before returning to Snape.

"Filch is on patrol in the middle of the night, what about you? Snape..." He hesitated, "How did you hear that?"

"That doesn't matter," Snape said coldly.

"On the contrary," growled Moody gruffly. "It's very important!"

"Hmph - I'm just going to my office, what's the problem?" Snape snorted coldly, turned and left.

"Wait!" cried Moody, "show me your shoes!"

Snape paused, without even turning his head, and continued walking forward.

"stop!"

Moody walked forward a few steps with a "thud thump", stretched out his crutches, and stopped Snape unceremoniously.

"What on earth do you want?" Snape held back his anger, turned around abruptly, and lifted his trouser legs to reveal his shoes, "Want to see my shoes? What's there to see? Could it be that my shoes are still black?" Is it a magic item?"

Under the trousers that Snape raised, a pair of clean boots were exposed, but the little dirt just now had disappeared.

"I just didn't find my slippers when I got out of bed, is that a problem?" Snape demanded.

Moody stared at his boots for a while, then raised his head and said, "You don't have anything else hidden in your office, do you?"

By this time, Snape's dusty face had turned an ugly brick red, and the vein in his temple was beating faster.

"Are you perpetual? You know I've got nothing hidden, Moody," he said in a low voice. "Didn't you search my office long ago yourself?"

Moody's face twisted into a grin.

"It's an Auror's prerogative, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep a close eye on—"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," Snape said through gritted teeth. "I can't believe he ordered you to search my office!"

"Of course Dumbledore believes in you," roared Moody. "He's a very gullible man, isn't he? Always thinks people should have a second chance. But I—I think some stains don't wash off,

snape. Some stains can never be washed off, you know what I mean? "

Suddenly Snape did something very strange. He grabbed his left arm with his right hand suddenly, as if the arm were suddenly in excruciating pain.

Moody laughed.

"Go back to sleep, Snape."

"You have no right to make me go anywhere!" Snape hissed, letting go of his arms, as if annoyed with himself. "I have as much right to patrol the school at night as you do!"

"Then go ahead and patrol," Moody said, but his voice was menacing, "I knew I'd run into you someday in the dark hallway...By the way, you lost something... "

Both Snape and Filch subconsciously looked down, only to find a piece of parchment.

Snape reached out to pick it up, and a horrible, knowing look slowly came over his face—

"The parchment is coming!"

The map whizzed through the air, slipped through Snape's open fingers, flew down the stairs, and landed in Moody's hand.

"I made a mistake," said Moody flatly. "It's mine—I think I must have lost it earlier—"

But Snape's dark eyes looked from the box in Filch's arms to the parchment in Moody's hand - and he connected the two events.

"Potter," he said softly.

He still remembers it clearly—no way, it's hard not to remember! Because the time he found out that the parchment belonged to Harry was the night he met Maca and Hermione face-to-face and "lovely".

"What do you mean?" Moody asked quietly, folding the map and putting it in his pocket.

"Potter!" Snape said angrily. He turned his head suddenly and looked straight at the place where Moody's eyes had stopped just now. "That casket belongs to Potter, and that parchment belongs to Potter." Yes, I've seen it before, I recognize it! Potter is here! Potter, in his Invisibility Cloak!"

Snape spread his hands like a blind man, and walked up the stairs.

"There's nothing there, Snape!" roared Moody, "but I'd love to tell the Headmaster how easily you suspect Harry Potter!"

"What do you mean?" Snape turned to look at Moody again, his hands still outstretched, but his movements slowed down.

"I mean, Dumbledore is very interested in knowing who's up to that boy!" Moody limped a few more steps towards the stairs, "And, Snape, I'm... interested in……"

The torchlight slid across his distorted, battered face, making the scars and the hole in his nose look deeper and more eerie than ever.

Snape looked down at Moody, frowning tightly.

For a moment, no one moved, no one spoke... Then, Snape slowly lowered his hands.

"I just think," said Snape, who seemed to be trying to sound calmer, "that if Potter hangs around in the middle of the night again... it's a regrettable bad habit of his... he should be stopped. For—for his own safety."

"Ah, I see," said Moody softly. "You have Potter's best interests at heart, don't you?"

A moment of silence.

Snape and Moody were still staring at each other, and Mrs. Norris meowed, still poking her head around Filch's legs, as if sniffing for something.

"It's time for me to go to my office... there are potions waiting to be prepared," Snape said suddenly.

"That's the only idea you've got tonight," said Moody. "Now, Filch, can you give me that casket—"

"No!" Filch said, hugging the golden egg as if he were his own son. "Professor Moody, this is proof that Peeves stole something!"

"He stole it from a warrior, and it belonged to that warrior," said Moody. "Take it here."

Snape hurried downstairs without a word, past Moody, and headed for the basement. Filch smacked his lips at Mrs. Norris, and the cat stared blankly somewhere for a few more seconds before turning and following its owner down.

Filch handed the box to Moody, and as he left, he muttered to Mrs Norris, "It's all right, dear... we'll go to Dumbledore early in the morning... and tell him what Peeves did." good thing..."

Not long after, a door slammed and seemed to be closed.

Only then did Moody lean on his crutches at the bottom of the stairs and laboriously climb up the stairs, toward the seemingly empty ledge. Every time he took a step, he made a hollow sound: thump... thump... thump.

"Dangerous enough, Potter," he whispered.

...

On the other side, Snape's office.

"boom!"

The door of the office was roughly pushed open and then slammed shut, and the oil lamp in the room was lit.

"Is anyone here today?" Snape was not at all surprised that Maca was sitting behind the desk, he just asked with an annoyed look on his face.

"Here it is tonight." Maca said calmly, straightening her back on the chair.

"That's fine—" Snape didn't ask about the details about Barty Jr., he just said impatiently, and sat down on the single sofa next to him, "You can go back to sleep."

"I'm afraid it won't work," Maca shrugged. "There is still potion boiling inside. I'm afraid I won't be able to leave until it stabilizes..."

"My place is almost becoming your private alchemy room..." Although Snape said it, he obviously didn't intend to drive Maca away.

Since Maca returned from a round with Voldemort, his relationship with Snape has obviously become much closer. Now if Maca wanted to prepare some potions or do some research, she would often come to Snape to bother her.

But Maca vaguely understood that the biggest reason why Snape recognized him was probably not because of this relationship.

As for why... To be honest, he still hasn't figured it out yet!

"McLean..."

"what?"

Snape called Maca abruptly, but before he got to the point, he shook his head slightly.

"...No, nothing."

Although Maca was a bit puzzled, he didn't continue to ask - if Snape didn't want to talk, it was useless for him to ask. It's better to save a little effort and wait until the other party feels that it's time to say it, then it will come out naturally.

At least, Snape didn't have any conflict of interest with himself, and he didn't have to worry about the other party having other petty thoughts about him.

Afterwards, Maca chatted casually with Snape about potions, and he didn't close the lid of the cauldron until it was daylight, and left Snape's office.

For Maca, staying up late is almost a routine. He usually catches up on sleep the next morning before moving on to other things.

But today, he didn't do that.

As the start date for the second project loomed, he had to juggle all sorts of things.

The plan has been slowly unfolded, and the progress in all aspects is very stable. At such a critical moment, he didn't want to lose the chain because he didn't pay attention to some places.

"When things are settled, you must take a good rest for a while..."

While talking, he took out a bottle of potion, raised his head and poured it down.

"Oh!" He shook his head, his troubled face glowed again, and even his eyes became bright again.

"The effect of the formula this time is really good, you can try to push it to the market..." Maca held the empty bottle for a while, then nodded and said, "Since there is a bicorn gallbladder in the formula, let's call it It's 'Rainbow Bull Potion'... Anyway, the bicorn looks like a bull..."