Similarity

The guest, clad in black, once again opened the Headmaster's office door as dusk settled. The office's owner was standing behind the Pensieve, head bowed, gazing at the rippling surface of the water.

"Ah, Severus, you're here." Dumbledore didn't look up, merely beckoning Snape, who had just entered, towards him.

Snape pursed his lips, suppressing the impatience in his heart and the refusal that wanted to escape his tongue. He walked to the other side of the Pensieve, directly facing Dumbledore.

"I have something to show you," Dumbledore said with a slight smile at Snape, raising a finger to point at the Pensieve.

Snape hesitated for a second, then bent over and plunged his face into the water, creating silver ripples.

After a swirl of black mist, what entered Snape's eyes was a half-open door. He saw a young wizard with red hair carrying several books approach the door. Just as he was about to open it, he was pulled back by a Hufflepuff student who had come with him—the two young wizards stopped in front of the Magical Theory Teacher's office.

Peering through the half-open door, Snape saw the man he had only recently seen in a Muggle photograph sitting with his head down on a sofa positioned to the side of the door. His neatly combed hair fell slightly due to his lowered gaze.

"Omi, my Omi, don't worry." The woman with long, curly black hair stood by the sofa, her back to the door, reaching out to adjust the man's hair. "Sebastian had already repented back then. It's been several years now, he definitely won't blame us."

As she spoke, the woman's hand, which had been tidying the man's hair, moved to his cheek. Together with her other hand, she cupped his face.

"Omi, it's okay. I'll apologize to him first when the time comes. I believe he'll consider your many years of affection and be kind to me."

"Cyber, don't take all the blame yourself." The man sighed softly, placing his hand over hers and gently stroking it. "It was my suggestion to report him, and... back then, your relationship was still good. You hid everything from me. What you just said should probably be reversed."

His voice carried a hint of resentment by the end.

The woman chuckled softly and leaned forward slightly, her long hair falling to obscure their faces from the view through the door crack.

"Thank you, Cyber," the man said softly. "I'm so glad I have you."

"Me too, Omi."

The scene in the Pensieve ended. Snape raised his head with a blank expression and said mockingly, "I never thought the great Professor Dumbledore would have a hobby of peeping at other people's intimate moments as a couple, and then want to force it upon others."

"It was unintentional," Dumbledore replied calmly, returning to his Headmaster's seat without changing his expression.

"So?" Snape looked at Dumbledore, confused. "What's the use of me seeing this?"

"Hmm... I just wanted to tell you more about Professor Sekri," Dumbledore gestured for him to sit down.

Frankly, Snape wasn't interested, but Dumbledore's serious expression at the moment piqued his curiosity. Without much thought, he sat down on the sofa—the very spot Cyberlina had occupied that morning.

"I believe you already know her husband, Mr. Ominis Gaunt, from your visit to Professor Sekri's former residence."

Snape frowned. "Does the great Dumbledore also have a habit of monitoring professors and students?"

Dumbledore smiled. "There's no need for monitoring. I just knew she would tell you this."

"...Why?"

"Because she sees through you too easily, Severus."

Snape snorted. He was about to retort, but then he remembered his own subconscious use of Occlumency that afternoon. He suddenly understood Dumbledore's meaning, and his intended rebuttal twisted into something else. "Perhaps it should be said that she is worthy of being your professor."

A few hours ago, he had thought of Lily because of the emotions Cyberlina had displayed, and his emotions had fluctuated. So, when Cyberlina turned her head, he instinctively used Occlumency to suppress his feelings.

He hadn't thought much of Cyberlina's lapse in composure, as anyone would be unsettled seeing a lover from years past. But now, with Dumbledore's explicit reminder, he understood. Those displays of emotion, while perhaps genuine, were also purposeful.

She is a Slytherin, after all!

To voluntarily invite someone into her personal space, share her secrets, and reveal her vulnerabilities.

Cyberlina was testing him.

Testing Snape's reaction.

And his effortless use of Occlumency was his response—a response that confirmed Cyberlina's guess.

Snape's expression turned grim upon realizing this. Dumbledore responded to Snape's sarcastic remark with a kindly smile.

But... how could Cyberlina, after only a few hours of meeting, know how to deal with him?

Snape pondered this and then voiced his question.

"This is what I wanted to talk about," Dumbledore leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk, his hands clasped in a steeple. "She is a formidable person, exceptionally skilled at discerning people's hearts and exploiting them. In the memory I just showed you, I paused because... I heard the name Sebastian Sallow. In his fifth year, he murdered his uncle with an Unforgivable Curse. After his friend and sister testified, he was sent to Azkaban.

This incident caused quite a stir before I even enrolled. After enrolling, because he was a Slytherin student, the students discussed it even more heatedly in private."

The current Head of Slytherin let out a cold snort.

Dumbledore continued, "At the time, I only knew that Professor Sekri and her husband had reported him, and I thought they were good people who reported their friend for the sake of justice. But later, after I accessed the Ministry of Magic's records, I discovered that Professor Sekri was present when Sallow killed his uncle—or rather, for a long time before that, the two of them had been engaged in joint, mysterious activities."

Connecting this to the memory he had just seen in the Pensieve, Snape understood what Dumbledore was implying and finished his thought: "She had the suspicion of inciting others, yet she was not suspected or investigated." He then posed his question, "Why?"

"Because of her friendliness, Severus. You could quickly suspect her because you are not yet familiar with her," Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, his blue eyes fixed on Snape's calm, dark gaze. "Once you interact with her, you won't suspect her. You'll only see her as a good student who tried in vain to stop her friend and felt guilty about it."

"Including you."

"Yes, including me," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm not familiar with Professor Sekri's experiences during her student years, but her heroic deeds from that time are always recounted by other professors—everyone's evaluation of her is perfect. After she became my professor, I also admired and respected her for her erudition and wit.

I must say, she is the professor I am closest to. Even after I graduated, I maintained frequent contact with her.

She helps everyone who seeks her assistance. She is always gentle and polite... just as you saw today."

Dumbledore paused his praise for Cyberlina, lowering his head slightly to look at his clasped hands on the desk.

"Sounds... perfect," Snape commented, drawing out the strange, long vowel sound.

"Indeed, very perfect. She is the perfect student, classmate, friend, professor, and—leader in everyone's eyes," Dumbledore rubbed his thumbs together. "I imagine you've heard similar evaluations, Severus. Just applied to someone else."

Snape's right hand instinctively went to his left arm, his lips pressed tightly together.

He hadn't expected anyone, but after Dumbledore uttered the strongly suggestive word "leader," the preceding string of complimentary words immediately brought to mind the evaluation of the Dark Lord that his friend Malfoy had once told him—an evaluation the Old Malfoy Head of House had made.

It seemed the Old Malfoy Head of House had mentioned it when talking to Malfoy before his retirement, speaking of how elegant and powerful he had been in school, kind and respected by all. He possessed the charisma and ability to make everyone willingly follow him.

However, the Old Malfoy's praise only extended to the Dark Lord's school days. Regarding the Dark Lord as Snape knew him, the Old Malfoy Head of House seemed to have a different take. But Malfoy, drunk at the time, had retained enough clarity, and the conversation had abruptly ended after the praise, with him merely patting his friend's shoulder.

At this moment, Snape understood his friend's unspoken words from years ago—that the friendliness and approachability were merely a facade—just as Dumbledore was trying to tell him now.

Occlumency activated again, and the trembling emotions were suppressed. Snape released his hands, his expression softening slightly. He looked up, only to find Dumbledore staring at his own clasped hands without moving, his expression unreadable, as if lost in thought or reminiscing.

How strange.

Snape surmised that Dumbledore must be comparing the Dark Lord and Sekerei, because he heard Dumbledore softly say—as if speaking to him, yet also murmuring to himself.

"He... they, people like them, have many similarities."

Snape didn't want to delve into what Voldemort was like decades ago, nor was he interested. He merely asked, "Then why is Sekerei, who is powerful and so similar to the Dark Lord..."

He paused, not finishing his question, but Dumbledore understood his meaning.

Dumbledore looked up, meeting Snape's gaze. His blue eyes held a familiar smile and an unfamiliar complexity.

"Love, because of love, Severus." Dumbledore removed his hands from the table, looking at Snape with a beaming smile. "Mr. Ominis—Ominis Gaunt, he is an exception in the Gaunt Family; he detests dark magic. As long as he is present, Cyberlina Sekerei will always be that kind and elegant Professor Sekri."

Dumbledore believed this implicitly, for he would never forget the night that made him start to see Cyberlina without rose-tinted glasses and was shocked by her mad, pathological love.

Precisely because he would never forget that night, he believed that even a viper would restrain its fangs, but—

"But that Gaunt no longer exists."

"Yes, Severus." Dumbledore released his hands and leaned back in his chair. "That is why I must remind you, Cyberlina has always had many secrets, and now, there is no one to restrain her... It's not surprising she would do anything.

—So, remember, never underestimate her.

—Never let your guard down around her.

—Never."

Dumbledore's words echoed in Snape's mind, accompanied by the sound of him searching through documents, disrupting the silence of the dungeon.

Snape hadn't visited the bookshelf before him in a long time. It contained notes and materials left by previous Potions professors, which he had frequently consulted only in the year he began teaching.

The reason he found that notebook on Cyberlina's shelf, besides it being on the top tier, was another—he found the handwriting on the booklet familiar.

Cyberlina said it came from her Potions professor, Professor Sharp.

[Isolt Sharp]

Snape's fingers paused on this name as he took down the thick file left by Dean Sharp.

The file contained page after page of teaching records and summaries, interspersed with many of Professor Sharp's potion-making insights and daily musings. Occasionally, an excellent student's assignment would appear... It could only be said that magic was indeed useful; such a large amount of paper material could still be preserved well after a hundred years, which was truly delightful.

Finding the correct year, Snape quickly flipped through the teaching records and summaries page by page.

Unfortunately, Cyberlina's name appeared infrequently and only in ordinary records, no different from other students, nothing special. Snape was somewhat disappointed, but he also felt it was normal.

He closed the file and put it back in its place. Then, as he walked towards his desk, he took out the notebook he had brought from Cyberlina's former residence—no Potions master would pass up the research process of a rare potion.

However, upon opening the first page, he stopped in his tracks—this notebook seemed to have been torn from somewhere and reassembled, and this paper... he seemed to have just touched it.

After carefully feeling the paper in his hand, he suddenly turned and took down the file again, opened the casual writings section that he hadn't examined closely, and browsed through it earnestly with a frown.

Finally, twenty minutes later, he retrieved from it a letter—different from the notes, tucked within the writings—signed "Cyberlina Sekerei," and an OWL transcript belonging to Cyberlina.

In the letter, Cyberlina's sharp handwriting, uncharacteristic of her person, was filled with dissatisfaction with her grades, greetings to Professor Sharp, and an inquiry about whether he had time to tutor her, stating that along with the letter were rare materials she had found.

Snape impassively shifted his gaze from the letter to the transcript, then paused.

Seven compulsory subjects, six O's, one A.

The dungeon returned to silence.

After a long moment.

The owner of the dungeon let out a short chuckle.

In Hogwarts' dim basement, the still-young head of house pondered how to trade coursework for the coveted materials in the letter. Meanwhile, on Hogwarts' brightly lit eighth floor, the elderly headmaster sat distractedly behind his desk in his pajamas, the sleeping portraits shifting positions to block the candlelight.

"Oh, are you having trouble sleeping, Albus?" the Sorting Hat's voice was hoarse and tired.

"No." Dumbledore chuckled, reaching out to pat Fawkes, who was nuzzling his shoulder in comfort—having sensed his emotions. "I'm just thinking about some things."

The Sorting Hat clicked its folds. "I know she should be watched, but you don't need to trouble yourself so much."

"Oh no, it's not because of Cyberlina... or rather, not because of her person." Dumbledore picked up Fawkes, stroking him gently. "I just suddenly realized my previous feeling was correct—vipers do retract their fangs voluntarily. But... I didn't fully understand, hmm... I'm not quite sure if I understand this saying, but I certainly haven't kept this lesson in mind."

"..." The Sorting Hat glanced at a few portraits that had sneakily opened and then closed their eyes again, shifting their positions. It felt like it also wanted to shift its position. "Perhaps you truly are suffering from insomnia due to old age, Albus. Don't think too much, it's time to sleep."

"Perhaps you are right." Dumbledore chuckled lightly at this, standing up with Fawkes in his arms. "Goodnight, old friend."

The lights on the eighth floor were extinguished.