Chapter 310: You Were Never Innocent!

Snape's sudden appearance was unexpected by many.

But precisely because of this, Barty Crouch Jr., watching from the Quidditch pitch, was ecstatic the moment he saw him.

Never before had he been so happy to see Snape.

Especially when Snape arrived just in time to stop Grindelwald.

"I misjudged his loyalty!"

Barty Jr. laughed in delight, then glanced at Bellatrix, his face radiating smug satisfaction.

In truth, if Cyrus and Grindelwald had worked together, they could have overpowered Voldemort in a two-on-one fight.

But killing him would have been another matter entirely.

Even if he couldn't win, the Dark Lord always had a way of escaping!

That was just his nature—a venomous serpent, always shedding its skin to survive.

And Grindelwald?

The moment Snape appeared, he actually stopped all movement.

It wasn't that he truly feared Snape's threat—

Snape was indeed a powerful wizard, but compared to Grindelwald, he was not strong enough.

What truly made Grindelwald wary was Voldemort himself.

The moment Snape's warning alerted Voldemort, Grindelwald knew he had lost his chance to seize the Elder Wand.

So, without hesitation, he leapt backward, putting distance between himself and Voldemort, ensuring he wouldn't be caught off guard.

Then, Grindelwald turned to Cyrus, his face full of regret, and said, "Kid, I'm out of options. I can't fight him—you'll have to handle this yourself."

Grindelwald had already made an Unbreakable Vow with Voldemort. He could exploit minor loopholes, but he could not engage Voldemort in direct combat.

That meant he had no part to play in the battle ahead.

"The plan didn't work. There's nothing more I can do."

But Cyrus didn't seem to care.

Instead, his attention shifted to Snape, who was approaching with a dark expression.

"I heard you were involved in the attack on Harry, Severus." Cyrus asked, his voice measured.

"I remember we got along rather well in Godric's Hollow. Why did you betray me?"

"Why did you return to Voldemort's side? Are you truly content being his servant, rather than my friend?"

"Friend?" Snape's lips curled into a mocking sneer, as if he had just heard an amusing joke.

His expression was sharp and cutting, just as it was in every Potions class he had ever taught.

That cold, biting look, one that seemed to promise scathing words that would cut deeper than any curse.

But this time, Snape didn't resort to crude insults.

His words, however, were just as ruthless.

"You gave the Resurrection Stone to Harry Potter—Not to me."

Snape's voice was quiet, but laced with resentment.

"You knew I needed it. And you call that friendship?"

Upon hearing Snape's words, Voldemort, still looking somewhat weakened, let out a triumphant smile.

His eyes flickered between Snape and Cyrus, observing—but he said nothing.

It was Harry who reacted explosively, his anger flaring as he shouted at Snape: "I already told you—the Resurrection Stone can't truly bring someone back!"

By now, Harry had learned the truth about Snape's past.

It had happened while practicing Occlumency—fleeting glimpses of Snape's memories had flashed before his eyes, though not in full detail.

But what had truly allowed him to understand those buried memories—Was Lily's soul itself.

"I don't need her to be truly alive!"

Snape snapped, his rage uncontrollable.

His eyes burned with resentment, staring at Harry as if he were his greatest enemy.

"I just need her to be with me—that's enough!"

His fists clenched tightly, revealing the selfish, obsessive nature he had always harbored.

He wanted to possess Lily Evans.

He wanted to claim her as his own.

Then, with a deep exhale, Snape's rage faded, and he relaxed again.

"The Dark Lord has already promised me—after the tournament, he will give me the Resurrection Stone."

"And then… I will have everything I want."

He spread his arms wide, as if he were already embracing the nonexistent Lily, his face glowing with bliss.

The sight made Harry shudder, and his stomach churned with disgust, bile threatening to rise up his throat.

It was revolting!

Not just because of Snape's intoxicated, delusional expression—but because a greasy-haired man who never even washed his hair had been obsessing over his mother for years…

"My mum was right to stay away from you!" Harry spat angrily, his voice shaking with rage. "You're pathetic!"

He truly found Snape's behavior pitiful and disgraceful—and at the same time, utterly detestable.

"You know what? Even if you'd never said that slur, you still never would have ended up with my mum!"

Snape's entire body trembled with rage, like a man consumed by flames of fury. "Shut up!"

"Do you really think you lost my mum just because of those words?"

"Shut up!"

"You're wrong!" Harry shouted back, louder than ever. "You were never meant to be together! You ran with the pure-blood supremacists, joined the Death Eater recruits, bullied people with Dark Magic, looked down on Muggles, and treated Muggle-born wizards like they were beneath you!"

Harry's voice rose with every word, mercilessly tearing apart the illusion Snape had clung to for so long.

"Deep down, you never really saw them as equals, did you?! You thought they were just Mudbloods, didn't you?! You think that because you have half-wizard blood, you're superior to them, don't you?!"

"Shut up!"

Snape roared in fury.

His entire body trembled violently, his face pale and bloodless—Harry had struck a nerve.

At first, Snape had only hated Muggles. It was understandable, considering he had a detestable Muggle father…

His childhood had bred his hatred for Muggles, and when he arrived at Hogwarts, he fell under the influence of pure-blood wizards, eventually despising even Muggle-born witches and wizards.

Of course—except for Lily Evans.

But even then, her bloodline had made him hesitate at times.

That slip of the tongue—calling her a Mudblood—hadn't been just a mistake.

Because in that moment, deep down, he truly believed Lily's birth was inferior.

"From the moment I set foot in Hogwarts, you've been using my dad against me—fine, I admit it, he wasn't who I thought he was. He was arrogant, self-important, and a bully. But what about you? You always act like you were the victim, but you were never innocent!" Harry snapped furiously.

"You were worse than him!"

Severus Snape was a Death Eater.

From the moment he entered Hogwarts until the day Lily died, he had always been a Death Eater.

He had been beyond saving.

Even when he later betrayed Voldemort, it had only ever been for Lily.

His heart was barren and hollow—aside from his twisted love and obsession for Lily, all that remained was hatred.

Hatred for James, who had won the girl he loved.

Hatred for Voldemort, who had taken her life.

As for everyone else in the world? Snape never cared.

He didn't care how many people Voldemort had murdered, how many had died before his eyes.

So while Harry's words had completely shattered Snape's defenses, they could never change his mind.

But Cyrus—he knew exactly where to strike: "Are you so sure he'll give you the Resurrection Stone, Severus?" Cyrus's voice was calm, cutting through the air like a blade.

"He's already lied to you once~"

Over a decade ago, Voldemort had promised Snape—and yet, he had still killed Lily.

"This time is different."

Voldemort finally spoke.

His face was brimming with amusement as he beckoned Snape forward, then pulled out the Resurrection Stone.

"I admit I was wrong back then," Voldemort said smoothly.

"I have already apologized to Severus for that mistake."

"I underestimated how important Lily Evans was to him. I assumed she was just another insignificant woman. But I forgot—people desire different things."

"So, since Severus wants her… I can give her to him."

The Resurrection Stone gleamed in his palm.

"As compensation."

Voldemort's voice was soft yet commanding—laced with taunting amusement.

Because he knew—This was something Cyrus could never give Snape!

"Some things, Cyrus, are as simple as this—if I can give him what you cannot, that alone is enough reason for your failure."

Voldemort spoke with absolute confidence, then turned his gaze to Snape, whose pathetic eyes were now fixated solely on the stone.

"Come, Severus."

He held his arms open, as if to embrace him.

"This is my gift to you—an apology and a reward!"

He enthusiastically clasped Snape's arm, raising the Resurrection Stone right before his eyes.

Snape's hand trembled as he reached out.

It was unclear whether he intended to grasp the stone—or caress the skin of the woman he had loved so obsessively.

But when it really came to this, he became afraid again, like a moth flying into a flame, feeling the pain of being burned all over!

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