You Must Give to Receive

Dumbledore closed the door, leaving the room to that poor family.

He rubbed his eyes and said to Madam Pomfrey, "Please go get some rest, will you, Madam Pomfrey? I believe they'll need quite a bit of time."

He then turned to He Shenyan. He said nothing, only patted him on the shoulder before leaving. He wandered the corridor alone, his back lonely and desolate, as though he had remembered someone.

Harley learned the full story later from the Daily Prophet. Photos of Neville, his parents, and his grandmother were printed in it, beneath a bold black headline: "Couple Driven Mad for Years Finally Cured!"

Ron read the report with her during dinner, and the two of them reached the same conclusion: the professor must have helped.

They believed it without a doubt.

The newspaper's speculation was that Dumbledore had acted personally. It claimed that he had long felt guilty toward the couple, so he had spent years researching how to cure victims driven mad by the Cruciatus Curse. Once he had achieved results, he went to heal them.

However, Neville's parents said it had not been Dumbledore. They kept the person's name tightly guarded. The report also said that Dumbledore had merely "revealed a mysterious smile."

Harley's assessment was, "This Rita Skeeter person is seriously annoying. It'd be one thing if she only questioned the headmaster, but she actually went to Neville's house to interview them."

Ron worked on the roast chicken in his bowl and said, "Neville hasn't come to school for three days. He might fall behind again. We should help him."

"Of course, but what's going on with Hermione lately?" Harley set the newspaper aside and took another large bowl of vanilla ice cream.

"I don't know either. Recently, she barely even eats. She's been living in the library."

Ron shrugged indifferently. Seeing how unconcerned he looked, Harley pretended not to know who he brought dinner to every night. Still, Ron truly did not know who Harley brought vanilla ice cream to every night.

"I'll be going, then."

Harley stood up. She had finished that entire large bowl of vanilla ice cream, and she even grabbed another bowl and ran off. Ron thought she might get very fat if she kept eating like that, but he did not dare say it aloud.

Last week, Malfoy had been cornered against a wall by Harley again for constantly staring at her. Ron was even beginning to suspect Malfoy actually enjoyed it a little. This was already the third time since school had started, not counting the one on the train.

But it had nothing to do with him.

Ron thought this as he quickly finished the roast chicken in his bowl, picked up a bowl of mashed potato and French soup, and headed for the library. He wore a foolish smile along the way without even realizing it.

"Professor, I brought you ice cream again."

"Thank you, Miss Potter."

Snape nodded calmly and accepted the ice cream. After more than half a term, he could finally face Harley with something resembling calm.

But Harley's next sentence nearly made him fall out of his chair. "Did you know my mother, Professor Snape?"

Snape gripped the ice cream tightly so it would not slip from his hand. He took a deep breath and asked, "...Who told you that, Miss Potter?"

"No one told me, Professor. I guessed."

During a silence so long it became awkward, Harley kept staring at Snape with her green eyes, while Snape merely lowered his head and dealt with the ice cream.

"...All right. I did know your mother." He finally gave up resisting.

Harley smiled faintly.

But all she said next was, "All right, Professor. Remember to rest early." Then she left.

Snape was left sitting in his office like a stunned puppet. He did not understand what Harley meant, just as he had once failed to understand what Lily meant.

He sighed, finished the remaining ice cream, wiped his hands, and picked up the notes beside him to continue studying.

A flame had always been hidden in his heart, never extinguished. And that flame was gradually burning hotter and hotter.

Since ancient times, people like him had always been this way. They could only hide the flame in their hearts, too afraid to show it to anyone—until, in the end, they either burned themselves to death or found a way to release it.

For some time afterward, Hogwarts was very peaceful.

Neville returned quickly. He no longer cowered as he had before; he was completely changed.

Quite a few professors were pleased by this. Harley still brought Snape ice cream every night, and Ron did the same.

Besides bringing Hermione dinner, he spent his time in the library giving her his notes. The two studied together. Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, it was April seventeenth—Easter. Hogwarts would have a two-week holiday beginning that day.

Harley had nowhere to go, so Hermione invited her to spend the holiday with her.

Her family planned to travel to Hawaii. At first, Harley worried that Hermione's family might be unhappy about it. But Hermione's father, a dentist, welcomed her warmly.

The students had all left, and most of the teachers had as well. The only ones remaining at the school were the groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, and the Administrator, Argus Filch.

They actually had holidays too, but they insisted on staying at school. He Shenyan knew why: they had been studying under Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall was one of the few people who never left the school, no matter the time.

She seemed to regard this place as her home.

Other than those three, only Snape remained at the school.

During those two weeks, he barely left his office. Even his meals were delivered there by Hogwarts' Pixies. His beard had grown back, and his hair had gradually become longer, but he had no energy left to care about his appearance.

He devoted himself entirely to research.

He Shenyan had not lied to them even once. Meditation was difficult, researching spells was difficult, and new methods of brewing potions were even more difficult. Yet none of them were as difficult as the Resurrection Spell He Shenyan had personally taught him.

According to the rankings in the Compendium of Basic Spells, this was a seventh-level spell they could not possibly access at present.

It belonged to the highest level. Its name was ordinary—Resurrection Spell—but its principles were anything but simple. Snape still remembered He Shenyan's serious expression during that private lesson, and every word he had said.

"...I invented this spell myself. I combined five Resurrection Spells created by those before me, removed their flaws, and only then created this spell. I must remind you that this spell is extremely dangerous and uncontrollable. Resurrecting life is dangerous in itself. Whatever you want to obtain, you must pay for it."

Yes, he had to pay something. Snape silently repeated those words and threw himself back into his research with fanatical fervor.