"Do you dare come to the Shrieking Shack with us, Snivellus? If you dare follow me, I'll tell you where she lives."
The boy was in the midst of his voice breaking. He spoke with a touch of arrogance, exuding the superiority of someone born into wealth.
"You're lying." Snape did not fall for it at all.
"What, are you scared, coward?"
"Take that back!" he said, enunciating every word.
"What are you going to use on me? Sectumsempra or Levicorpus?"
Snape did not answer.
"Have you made up your mind?"
"Let's go!"
Snape agreed. What an idiot—it was a trap!
"Youth and beauty don't work on every man, Pomona. Some people pursue different things."
Dumbledore wore a ridiculous purple robe covered in stars. That was what made him frightening: you never knew whether he was truly guiding you or digging another pit for you to fall into, like that saintly nonsense he had spouted about giving up revenge during their walk by the Black Lake.
"You're all the same." She took out a mirror, but the face reflected within was not her own.
"Men aren't as shallow as you think, especially after they've seen true beauty." He raised his darkened right hand. "Why won't you help me?"
"I want to leave Hogwarts. I can only leave after you die."
Dumbledore pursed his lips and nodded. "Then I suppose you don't want to know a secret."
"What secret?"
"Among all the ancient runes, why is it specifically runic script?" Dumbledore sighed and lowered his hand again. "Witches..."
"No..." She came to her senses at the very last second and shoved away the kiss that had left her dizzy.
Morning sunlight streamed through the window. This was not a cellar or a burrow; neither of those places could possibly have sunlight.