Pandora

Snape and Aber left the castle together, crossing the lush green vegetable fields toward the greenhouse where various magical plants were cultivated.

As they approached the greenhouse, quite a few students had already gathered on the lawn, standing in small groups waiting for Professor Sprout.

Snape spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance. At that moment, it was leisurely stretching its branches in the breeze, the new leaves nearly translucent in the sunlight.

His thoughts drifted back to a certain full moon night the previous semester.

Urged on by Sirius's malicious "prank," Snape had poked the knot on the Whomping Willow's trunk with a long stick and entered the tunnel leading to the Shrieking Shack.

At the other end of the tunnel, he'd caught a fleeting glimpse of a werewolf with bared fangs, savage and beastly.

Just as the werewolf was about to pounce on him, James Potter rushed over and yanked him back.

And so, James had saved his life.

But Snape clearly remembered that after Peter Pettigrew escaped in the chaos, Dumbledore had told Harry—"When one wizard saves another wizard's life, a bond forms between them."

Later, Pettigrew had even been strangled to death in front of Harry by his own silver hand in a bizarrely eerie way.

So a flicker of worry stirred in Snape's mind—he feared that this bond might one day produce some unforeseen, uncontrollable consequences.

"What are you spacing out for?" Aber elbowed him.

"Nothing."

Snapping back to reality, Snape looked up at the crowd.

Remus Lupin—in human form—stood there, looking somewhat pale and haggard.

He mused to himself that this might be because the full moon had been just a few days ago; Lupin had likely just endured a painful transformation.

As Snape's thoughts wandered aimlessly, Professor Sprout strode over from the lawn.

She was a plump witch, with a patched hat perched atop her flyaway hair, her robes always speckled with dirt, and a fondness for beaming at everyone.

"We're going to the third greenhouse today," Professor Sprout said cheerfully. "From now on, we'll be studying some more interesting plants there."

The students murmured with interest. Before sixth year, they'd only entered the third greenhouse once.

Compared to the first greenhouse they were used to, the plants in the third were more fascinating and more dangerous.

Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door to the third greenhouse.

Snape smelled damp earth and fertilizer, mingled with a rich floral scent. Flowers as big as Hagrid's umbrella hung from the ceiling.

Professor Sprout walked to a bench in the middle of the greenhouse, where a dozen pairs of earmuffs in various colors were laid out.

Once the students had filed in, she cleared her throat and said, "Today we're repotting Mandrakes again. Now, who remembers the properties of Mandrakes?"

After two weeks of lessons, Snape noticed that students from all houses had stopped bothering to raise their hands—someone always jumped to answer anyway.

"Mandrake, also known as Mandragora, is a powerful restorative. It's a key ingredient in most antidotes, but it's also very dangerous..."

"Mm, yes," Snape thought to himself, "'Perfectly correct, ten points to Gryffindor!'"

"Very good, ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said, as everyone expected. "It seems you haven't forgotten what I taught you in second year."

Still, looking at the hundred-plus green-and-purple seedlings before him, Snape figured he'd better wait until this batch of Mandrakes matured before considering entering the Chamber of Secrets.

"The Mandrakes we're dealing with today still need some time to grow," Professor Sprout said, pointing to a row of deep trays. "At worst, their cries will just earn you an unforgettable Christmas in the Hospital Wing."

"Here, take this." Aber snatched up two pairs of pink fluffy earmuffs and handed one to Snape with a smug look.

"For heaven's sake, why this color?" Snape asked in disbelief. "Why?!"

"They're so pretty—I think this shade suits us both." Aber put on his own earmuffs without a care.

Snape glanced despairingly at the bench—the other colors had already been grabbed by the crowd.

"You're too much! How did I never see your true colors before—"

"—What did you say?" Aber tapped his earmuffs. "I can't hear you—"

"~!@#$%..."

"Sounds like a couple bickering."

Snape heard a soft voice.

A girl stood beside them, with a tangled, dirty mop of golden hair reaching down to her waist, and a necklace of Butterbeer corks strung around her neck.

She had pale eyes, equally pale eyebrows, a faint, elusive smile on her face, and an unmistakable air of oddity about her.

Luna?

The image of a bouncing, elfin figure immediately popped into Snape's mind.

He'd never noticed her before.

Of course, back then, his eyes had probably only been fixed on those bright green ones.

"You're the odd girl, Pandora Lovegood," Aber called out in a loud voice.

Clearly, the earmuffs were affecting his volume control.

Pandora didn't get angry.

She just blinked her big eyes and said gently, "Do you call me odd too?"

She turned and walked toward an empty table on the other side.

"Wait," Snape called after her, and casually rapped Aber on the head. "This one's a bit dim—don't mind him.

"There's a seat free here. Why don't you sit down?"

"Alright." Pandora said cheerfully, taking the seat across from Snape.

"You know?" she said mysteriously, "The cry of the Mandrake is actually a form of healing magic. Paired with a Punic incantation, it can produce miraculous effects.

"Three hundred years ago, a witch named Elfrida used the Mandrake's wail to cure a vampire's sunlight allergy..."

Listening to her rambling, Snape could say without a doubt that the girl before him was definitely Luna's mother.

When Luna was nine, she would die in an accident during a magical experiment.

Right now, she sat across from Snape, animatedly sharing her wild ideas.

From the joy on her face, it seemed no one had ever been willing to patiently listen to her go on like this before.

Light streamed through the greenhouse glass, falling across her profile.

The sun was lovely today.

Thanks to Lingzhi for the first monthly ticket.

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