The Longbottom Family's Traditions Have Not Disappeared

While Hermione and the others were worrying themselves sick over Damon, Damon was leisurely sipping tea.

Beside him, Dumbledore shared Fizzing Whizbees with him, while Professor McGonagall and Snape argued heatedly.

Only, the topic of their argument wasn't whether Damon should be expelled for this, but rather who would carry out Damon's detention—everyone present was an adult, plus one little adult, so no one was playing those empty games anymore.

At first, Professor McGonagall had been absolutely furious.

But when she learned that Malfoy had been calling Damon a Mudblood, even saying it on the train when they first met, and repeating it frequently in the days that followed, and that Damon had given up being sorted into Slytherin because of it—Snape's expression turned even sourer when he heard that, while McGonagall's face softened considerably, even flashing with a hint of relief?

And when Damon recounted how Malfoy had threatened Neville, and he couldn't take it anymore, McGonagall had already silently forgiven Damon in her heart, leaving only Snape sneering at them.

"Regardless, this boy's detention is unavoidable. As the head of Slytherin House, it's only right that I handle this matter!"

"My opinion remains the same as that day, Snape. Damon is a Gryffindor student. I have my own plans for his education and don't need anyone else's interference."

"Your own plans? Forgive me for saying so, but you've nearly spoiled him rotten. If he dares to physically assault a student right in front of us today, what will he do next? With this attitude of yours, you'll only fuel his arrogance. Look at how those students gaze at him—shock mixed with awe. If this continues, what do you think will happen? Or do you believe that person has truly vanished for good?"

"Snape!" McGonagall's face turned stern again. "How can you compare Damon to him! He only rules through strength and fear, while Damon—clearly, he knows what love is!"

"Say what you will, Professor, but the more you maintain that stance, the more I can't help but think it." Snape then looked at Dumbledore, his mouth twitching downward before quirking up oddly in a half-smile. "With the protection of both the Head of House and the Headmaster, our Duelling Prince can do whatever he pleases at Hogwarts from now on."

"Enough, Snape."

Professor McGonagall felt a headache coming on, but inwardly she had to admit Snape had a point—she had never defended a student like this before, and it was hard to deny there was plenty of personal bias involved.

"Fine. Until the end of term, Damon will report to your office every Saturday night for two hours of detention. Does this resolution satisfy you?"

"I'm glad you've retained your reason, Professor McGonagall."

Snape gave a slight bow, his smile turning a touch more genuine. Damon White had finally fallen into his hands! He would teach this brat the meaning of respect for teachers in the harshest way possible!

"Damon, do you have any objections to this arrangement?"

Dumbledore looked at Damon, making a token inquiry.

"No objections," Damon said, looking at Snape with a smile on his face. "Professor Snape is an excellent Potions master. I imagine that by his side, I can pick up some good habits beyond just 'not liking baths.'"

Sharp-tongued little brat—he was clearly flattering him, so why did it sound so grating? Snape kept his face stern, but inwardly he was gloating—once this kid was wearing Dragon Hide Gloves and purifying a full thousand portions of Giant Slug Slime, he wondered if he'd still be so cocky.

Just as things seemed settled and Dumbledore was about to dismiss everyone for a private word with Damon, a knock suddenly came at the door.

"Knock, knock, knock." The knock was short and firm.

"Professor Dumbledore, Augusta Longbottom is here to call on you. Please open the door."

The voice outside was very old, but carried a resolute strength. Even addressing Dumbledore, it didn't sound particularly polite.

A look of surprise crossed Dumbledore's face—what was she doing here? The next moment, he felt a headache coming on. This elderly woman's sudden visit at this hour made the reason perfectly clear—she had come for her grandson, Neville.

Professor McGonagall opened the door and welcomed the old woman inside.

She wore a long dress, carried a large red handbag, and had a hat topped with a stuffed vulture perched on her head. Her bearing was dignified and solemn.

"Greetings."

She doffed her hat to the three professors, using a gentleman's gesture. Her gaze swept the room, quickly locking onto Damon, and her eyes lit up.

"Hello, young man. I'm Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom."

The old lady doffed her hat again and bowed to Damon in thanks—but before she could complete the motion, a pair of hands caught her.

"Greetings, Grandmother. I'm Damon White. Since you're Neville's grandmother, you're my grandmother too."

Augusta looked up, meeting the boy's azure-blue eyes, and took an instant liking to him.

"I really wish I had a grandson like you."

She took his right hand, placed it in her palm, and patted it gently.

"I already know what happened to Neville. Professor Dumbledore, please tell me—what punishment have you decided for this child?"

"One detention per week until the end of term."

Augusta nodded at this, surveyed the room, her gaze slowly passing over Snape and McGonagall before finally settling back on Dumbledore. She said, "There's something you might not know. It's not a proud matter, and I don't usually speak of it—my son and daughter-in-law were both driven mad by Death Eaters. I raised Neville alone. For this sensitive child, his parents' suffering feels like his own. To ensure Neville could live a normal life, I've had to cast Memory Charms on him frequently, even if it affects his memory."

Professor McGonagall covered her mouth, her expression moved.

"I'm not saying this to earn your sympathy, nor to ask for a reward." Augusta looked at Dumbledore. "I only want to ask one thing, Dumbledore—do you still remember their contributions? Even if those contributions were so laughable, so utterly insignificant?"

"Of course I remember—I will never forget."

Dumbledore's expression grew serious.

Augusta nodded, pulling Damon to her side, and simply looked at Dumbledore.

"This child changed my grandson. The Longbottom family's traditions did not die out with Neville's generation. That is of utmost importance to the entire family."

Her hawk-like gaze fixed on Dumbledore, her tone humble, her stance unyielding.

"Please, forgive this child, just this once. Can you?"

"I can hardly refuse you, but it mostly depends on the two Heads of House."

Dumbledore looked at Snape and McGonagall, his expression helpless.

The old woman said she wanted neither sympathy nor reward, yet here she was making such a request.

But then, could they really refuse?

"I respect your opinion," Professor McGonagall replied earnestly.

Snape said nothing.

His gaze swept quickly over the three present, then he flicked his hand and walked away without another word.

"He agrees too."

After Snape turned his back, Dumbledore translated with a smile.