Heh Heh Heh

"Do you think they might start fighting halfway there?"

Professor Flitwick asked anxiously. Professor McGonagall didn't turn around. She watched their departing figures with concern and said, "They shouldn't. We have to trust Professor Snape, don't we?

"He wouldn't do that."

She lowered her head to look at Professor Flitwick. He shrugged, as if to say it was possible.

Snape strode along quickly, and Dewey followed him up the stairs. The original Dewey and Lupin had both known Hogwarts well. Lupin in particular: he and his friends had made the Marauder's Map, so they knew the secret passages and layout of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts as well as the lines on their own palms.

But Dewey didn't.

This was truly his first time at Hogwarts.

He was curious about the place.

In Hogwarts, A History, the wizards had praised the castle highly. It fulfilled its purpose perfectly: battle and survival. The castle itself was a work of art.

There were many places here suited to small-scale battles. The armor, statues, stone carvings, and secret passages around the corridors could all serve as sites for a final stand.

The grounds could also support farming and self-sufficiency. The surrounding villages and estates belonged to Hogwarts, too. And since the castle itself was easy to defend and hard to attack, the school could become the last "bridgehead" of resistance.

Even the staircases sometimes led to different places. If enemies got inside, they would probably be Confunded and have no idea where to go.

Dewey was no different. If he didn't want to get lost, he had to follow someone else.

Dewey happily trailed Snape as he wound through the corridors, eventually arriving at a place with neither people nor portraits.

"Peeves, get out of here."

Peeves had been hiding there, planning to scare the young wizarding couples who often came by. He hadn't expected Snape to catch him.

He left, cursing under his breath.

Dewey stood still, perfectly calm. This clearly wasn't the Staff Room. What couple would choose to canoodle in the Staff Room or outside a teacher's bedroom?

While Dewey was cheerfully taking in his surroundings—don't ask why he was happy; he just thought it was fun—Snape suddenly spun around. His wand was already in his hand, and he looked furious.

He raised his wand and pointed it at Lupin's nose. "Listen carefully, Remus Lupin. I'm only going to say this once. If you don't understand, then I'm sorry, but I won't remind you again. If you make a mistake here, you'll spend the rest of your life in Azkaban!"

Snape spoke quickly and quietly. Dewey wanted to laugh. Snape sounded as if he were casting a spell on him without opening his mouth, just moving his lips—a Nonverbal Spell.

But laughing didn't mean he was happy.

He was very unhappy.

Not because Snape was threatening him.

Threats didn't scare Dewey. What upset him was Snape's line: "You'll spend the rest of your life in Azkaban!"

Dewey didn't like that kind of threat. Not one bit.

He didn't want to go to Azkaban.

Professor Lupin wouldn't dwell on what Professor Snape had said. Dewey was different.

Dewey could hold a grudge over this for the rest of his life!

Snape didn't care how "Lupin" reacted. He spoke quickly. "Listen, Lupin. I don't care what you promised Dumbledore, and I don't know why Dumbledore keeps thinking you're a righteous, responsible person. I don't care how you've bewitched him!

"It's all lies. You might fool everyone else, but you can't fool me! Understand? No one knows better than I do how disgusting your lot are. You're hypocritical, arrogant, and conceited. You've been detestable since you were students!

"And you—a Werewolf, at Hogwarts!

"Lupin, you'd better pray you don't give yourself away while teaching. Otherwise, you'll be out of Hogwarts for good, back with your Werewolf friends!"

After finishing bitterly, he put away his wand and turned to leave.

He didn't seem to intend to take Lupin to his bedroom anymore.

His cloak swirled around him, making him look like an angry giant bat. Dewey watched Snape's gloomy expression without the slightest fear. He even felt like laughing.

How interesting.

He waved at Snape's back and called out, "Professor Snape?"

Snape turned around and narrowed his eyes, thinking Lupin was about to say something harsh. But "Lupin" merely said, quite calmly, "You still haven't shown me to my bedroom."

Snape clenched his wand and ground his teeth, forcing down the breath rising in his chest. Dewey watched his face change as if by magic, from livid to pale.

Snape said nothing more. He strode away.

Dewey hurried after him, trotting all the way to his bedroom.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

Dewey waved at Snape's back and thanked him sincerely, from the bottom of his heart. Hearing Lupin's voice, Snape felt something churning relentlessly in his chest. Grinding his teeth, he quickly disappeared from view.

He wanted to throw up.

Unfortunately, Apparition wasn't allowed here. Otherwise, he would definitely have chosen to Apparate away in front of "Lupin."

Dumbledore watched all this in astonishment. When Snape volunteered to escort Lupin, he'd worried something might happen and kept an eye on them. Instead, he saw Snape threaten Lupin—Lupin didn't get angry, but Snape was furious; Snape was forced to show Lupin the way—Lupin thanked him, and Snape got even angrier.

By any measure, Snape was the one getting hurt.

The person he wanted to hurt didn't care at all.

"Heh heh heh."

Dumbledore dispelled the spell and chuckled "heh heh heh" at his desk, looking very pleased.

Once he was done laughing, he got to work.

Taking out his wand, he drew a thin strand of silvery thought from his temple and guided it into the Pensieve before him.

He lowered his face into the Pensieve and saw scenes from many years ago.

The Pensieve shifted, and the colors around him changed rapidly.

He arrived at the orphanage.

At the orphanage, he met Tom for the first time.

"Oh, child, did you make this? That's incredible."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Albus Dumbledore. You can call me Professor Dumbledore."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to take you to school. A child like you ought to attend a school of magic."

"Wait, you can do magic too?"

"Of course, child. Like this."

His body plunged rapidly downward.

Dumbledore arrived at the school.

At the school, Dumbledore stood outside the Staff Room and heard the conversation inside.

"Professor Horace, I'd like to borrow a book from the Restricted Section. Could you write me a note?"

"Of course, Tom. No problem. What book would you like to read?"

"The Magical Life of Herpo, Professor. I've been very interested in Herpo lately."

"Oh? Herpo. All right, all right, child, but remember, don't become too absorbed in Herpo's life. He was an ancient Greek wizard, Herpo the Foul. You remember, don't you? Reading the biography of someone like him is a kind of corruption."

"Of course, Professor. I remember. I'm just a little curious about Herpo's life. Some say the Slytherin Head of House was the first Parselmouth; others say Herpo was one of the first Parselmouths. I only want to know the truth of history. I won't do anything reckless."

He continued falling.

In Dumbledore's office, Dumbledore saw Tom Riddle as an adult. His eyes had turned red, and his face looked like a corpse that had lain underwater for many years.

"Professor, I'd like to apply for the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor position at Hogwarts. I think I'm qualified for it."

"No, no, Tom. You can't have the position. It already has an owner."

"Really, Professor?"

"Yes, Tom. I never lie. Besides, I'm not the headmaster yet. This isn't something I should approve."

Scene after scene swept past his eyes like passing clouds. Dumbledore became immersed in his memories, and it was quite some time before he came back to himself.

His wand brought him a book.

"Herpo."

Dumbledore repeatedly read through Herpo's life, frequently coming across several terms.

"Horcrux, Parseltongue, Basilisk."

Dumbledore felt as if he had grasped something. Herpo the Foul was not only a Parselmouth; he was also the inventor of the Horcrux, the creator of the Basilisk, and the originator of many Dark Arts. When Voldemort had been at school, had his pursuit of Herpo meant that he'd obtained some of the information Herpo left behind?