Interview (Part One)

The ancient castle, its legacy stretching back a thousand years and weathered by the tides of history, still radiated mysterious magic amid the swirling snow. During the Christmas holidays, Hogwarts was much quieter than usual.

In the empty castle, apart from the whispers of the figures in the portraits lining the long corridors and the clinking of the standing suits of armor, only Peeves's shrill, grating singing occasionally pierced the silence.

Severus Snape's brisk stride sent his robes billowing like a flapping cloak, making him look like a great bat with its wings spread wide yet running on its feet. The gloom on his face and his pale lips made it clear that he was in a terrible mood.

"Chilled lemon juice."

Upon hearing the correct password, the ugly stone gargoyle hurriedly leaped aside, seeming almost flustered, as though it too feared something.

Snape strode through the opening wall, and the moment he entered the circular office hidden behind it, his mood worsened for no apparent reason.

Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age, was reclining in his chair. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his fathomless blue gaze rested on the high dome of the office. His long fingers were interlaced atop a slender-legged desk cluttered with strange Alchemical Devices and stacks of letters awaiting replies.

"Where have you been?"

Snape glanced at the purple traveling cloak Dumbledore had yet to remove, his tone blunt and direct.

"Just out for a walk," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile as he withdrew his deep gaze. "You know, Severus, for an old man like me, a moderate amount of exercise is quite necessary."

"Indeed," Snape said, a faint sneer curling his lips. "A walk that lasted several days?"

Snape's reaction was entirely expected. Dumbledore merely smiled unconcernedly. "How is Miss Granger?"

"She's fairly stable. Pomfrey handled her condition correctly. After a few weeks of rest, she'll return to normal."

Snape's tone was stiff, but he answered truthfully nonetheless. Yet when he saw Dumbledore's relieved expression and realized that he intended to move past the matter, he finally could no longer contain his anger.

"I assume you are fully aware of what those self-important, attention-seeking Gryffindors have done. They brewed Polyjuice Potion in secret and had the outrageous audacity to break into my office and steal ingredients. Dumbledore, since when has this school become so tolerant that breaking school rules and stealing a professor's property are permitted?"

"Such despicable conduct has never been permitted."

Snape's relentless pursuit seemed to weary the travel-worn Dumbledore. He removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"But we should look beyond people's actions to their motives, and judge whether their hearts are equally despicable. Severus, I do not believe Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger's attempt to investigate the truth behind the attacks could be called vile."

"So you intend to keep indulging him, even if his recklessness puts him in danger?"

For some reason, Snape's face looked somewhat pale in the gentle firelight. Though he did not name who "him" was, Snape was certain Dumbledore understood.

The office abruptly fell silent. Only the faint snores of the former headmasters in the row of portraits hanging on the walls, along with Fawkes's soft yet clear chirping, could be heard.

"It is not indulgence, Severus. It is observation."

After a long silence, Dumbledore spoke again, though his voice no longer carried that quiet confidence.

"Indeed, the boundary between courage and recklessness is not always clear. But we should show young people more tolerance, Severus. That is the only way to avoid stifling their natural strengths."

"Tolerance?"

Snape's lips twitched. Reluctantly, yet unable to stop himself, he recalled his own days as a student at this school.

"Don't flatter yourself, Headmaster Dumbledore. You have always only tolerated students you admired."

Snape had completely transferred his hatred for James Potter and his affection for Lily Evans onto Harry. He had to protect the son of the woman he loved, while enduring the fact that the boy looked so much like his father. It twisted Snape's emotions beyond measure.

"Let us end this topic, Severus."

Since Harry Potter had entered the school, they had had this sort of conversation in private more times than either could count. Even Dumbledore felt deeply helpless about it.

"Could I trouble you to greet a guest for me at the school gates?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair. He could hardly receive a guest in his current clothes.

"Originally, I would have asked Minerva to do it. Unfortunately, she accepted an invitation from the editors of Transfiguration Today to attend a Transfiguration reception. It is a rare chance for her to relax, and I would rather not disturb her."

Snape had no interest in Dumbledore's private appointment. He turned and strode away, his expression even worse than when he had entered the office because old memories continued to stir in his mind.

Yet, as though possessed, he suddenly halted before leaving the office. He turned back to look at Dumbledore, who was using his wand to clean the mud from the hem of his robes, and asked suspiciously,

"Who have you invited?"

"Ah—actually, I had planned to let you discover the surprise at the school gates. But since you asked..."

Dumbledore smiled, and an unreadable light bloomed once more in his blue eyes.

"Amosta Breen, one of the students you have admired most over the years."

7:40 p.m., December 31.

After taking the Hogwarts Express and getting off at Hogsmeade Station, Amosta crossed a long path blanketed in snow and arrived at Hogwarts's great iron gates precisely on time.

The two winged boar statues at the entrance had guarded this great magical school for a thousand years. Amosta's wistful gaze passed through the iron bars, soared over the grounds with their six towering goalposts and the gloomy ancient castle perched on the cliffside, before disappearing into the boundless Forbidden Forest.

He had to admit that returning here felt even better than he had imagined.

"I guessed the moment I boarded the train that you would be the one coming to meet me, Professor."

The rust-stained gates slowly opened with a creak. Amosta stepped inside and walked toward the dark figure striding toward him. When Severus Snape's expressionless face took shape in the dim light, Amosta set down his suitcase, spread his arms, and smiled sincerely.

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