Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets (6)

"He was indeed no longer alive in the usual sense of the word," Dumbledore said. "But his influence remains. His ideas remain. Certain... parts of him are still wandering this world."

Severus Snape fell silent.

He knew what Dumbledore was talking about. That prophecy, that baby, that scar—all of it was like a chain, each link fastening to the next, until it all pointed to the same person.

Harry Potter.

"What do you intend to do?" Severus Snape asked.

Dumbledore rose and walked to the window, looking out at the pitch-black night sky. The moonlight was obscured by clouds. Nothing could be seen beyond the castle, only the wind howling across the empty grounds.

"Harry must become the key to resolving the Chamber of Secrets," he said softly, but his tone held an unquestionable resolve.

Severus Snape shot to his feet, his chair scraping harshly across the floor.

"Here we go again." His voice carried a sarcasm that had been suppressed for far too long and had finally found an outlet. "Let me guess what you plan to do this time?"

He did not wait for Dumbledore to answer, but continued directly. Every word seemed forced through clenched teeth, carrying a bone-deep chill.

"Last year, in order to get him the House Cup, you suddenly announced those absurd point totals at the last moment—sixty points each for the trio, ten for Neville. One night's worth of points wiped out Slytherin's lead for the entire school year. The students aren't fools, Dumbledore. They could see exactly what those points were about."

He paused, his lips twisting into a mocking curve. "Your scheme had been sound enough. If Madara hadn't suddenly intervened with others and disrupted that so-called 'Lion Totem' ritual, Gryffindor could have taken that cup fair and square. What a