Secret Passage

"Excuse me." Snape called out to the team captain who was about to leave.

Montague stopped in his tracks and looked at Snape.

He was burly, with coarse, stiff hair, and his thick forearms looked like hairy hams.

The broom in his hand looked like a twig next to him, making one wonder how it could even lift him off the ground.

"What do you want?" Montague asked in a gruff voice.

"Hello, I wanted to ask if non-Quidditch players could use your training room."

"You can," Montague said, sizing Snape up and down. "A string bean like you really could use some more exercise. Today's tryouts were terrible—not a single candidate as sturdy as me."

Snape barely suppressed the urge to retort, thinking to himself that a big, dumb oaf like this really deserved to have his head stuck in a toilet.

"Wait for me." Montague walked into the captain's office.

When he came out, he had changed out of his uniform and was holding a black package.

"Have you ever eaten a Chocolate Frog?" Montague asked mysteriously, though the expression on his face looked more like he was constipated.

"What are you talking about, Montague?"

"You know, the candy that jumps like a real frog."

Montague made an exaggerated arm gesture that startled Snape, almost making him think a gorilla was lunging at him.

"I know what that is!" Snape took two steps back.

"Oh, good," Montague said, beckoning Snape closer. "Take a look at this."

Inside the package were some glass bottles filled with a dark red liquid.

"What is this?"

"Polyjuice Potion."

"Does it turn people into dragons?" That only confused Snape more. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Haven't you seen the cards?" Montague said impatiently. "Dumbledore's card—the twelve uses of dragon's blood."

"You mean—"

"Yes, it strengthens the body." Montague nodded. "If you want to train properly, you might as well have a bit.

"It contains the blood of nine dragons: Norwegian Ridgeback, Hungarian Horntail, Chinese Fireball, Welsh Green, Swedish Short-Snout, Ukrainian Ironbelly, Australian Opaleye, Peruvian Vipertooth, and Romanian Longhorn.

"One bottle is only ten Galleons, and if you buy five or more, I can give you a ten percent discount..."

"No, I don't need any," Snape jumped back again. "I don't use enhancements."

"What enhancements? This is magic!" Montague said indignantly. "If it weren't for you being in the same house and showing interest in fitness, I wouldn't have told you at all."

Snape instinctively glanced up at Montague's head: Merlin's beard, it was only 1976, and the Quidditch scene was already this advanced?

"Monty—er, Montague, thank you very much. But I have no money! Just let me use your training room. My friend is waiting for me..."

Snape fled.

After dinner in the Great Hall, Snape walked reluctantly toward Professor McGonagall's office.

Tonight, he had to go there again to serve detention with James.

So far, he and James had sorted through Filch's old files, washed the Hospital Wing's sheets and pillowcases for Madam Pomfrey, dusted the trophies for Tom Riddle, and done several other trivial, boring tasks.

That they hadn't come to blows after all these collaborations was something of a miracle. At least, that's what Snape thought.

He knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in." Professor McGonagall's stern voice came from inside.

The room matched her personality. Compared to the whimsy of Dumbledore's office, there was nothing flashy here—it could even be called sparse.

Aside from a Gryffindor banner and a few House Cups, her bookshelves and desk held only some books and parchment rolls.

"Good evening, Professor," Snape said. "It seems Mr. Potter hasn't arrived yet. What are we doing tonight?"

"Good evening, Severus." Professor McGonagall handed him a stack of parchment. "This is the last day. You'll be writing lines—'I will get along and unite with students from other houses.'

"Just finish these sheets. You can start now."

Snape took the parchment, sat down at a small table, and began writing the sentence over and over with a quill.

This was much easier than he had expected. It wasn't like that twisted old toad Umbridge making him write lines—nothing to fear.

Before long, James arrived. He sat at the far end, as far from Snape as possible, and joined in writing the lines.

Professor McGonagall sat nearby, reading the latest issue of Transfiguration Today by lamplight.

After nearly two hours, Snape finally finished.

He examined his work with satisfaction, only to notice that toward the end, his handwriting grew increasingly sloppy and larger.

Nervously, Snape handed the parchment to Professor McGonagall, hoping she wouldn't be too particular.

Fortunately, she didn't make things difficult for him. She just frowned and said, "That's enough."

Before leaving, Snape suddenly thought of something and said to James, "Mr. Potter, the parchment to replace yours will arrive in a few days."

"Creak—"

The chair beneath James let out a harsh sound as he struggled to keep from standing, but the quill in his hand couldn't help jerking, a blot of ink spreading across the parchment.

"Potter, what are you doing? You'll need to rewrite this sheet."

Hearing Professor McGonagall's voice, Snape pulled the door shut with satisfaction.

Standing in the corridor, Snape drew the Marauder's Map from inside his robes.

With a light tap of his wand, fine ink lines spread like a spider's web from where the tip touched, intertwining, crisscrossing, expanding to every corner of the parchment.

Snape casually observed the many moving black dots on the map. His gaze swept up and down the familiar corridors.

Suddenly, he spotted a familiar name—Mulciber.

Mulciber was moving near the library on the fifth floor of the castle.

Then, the black dot representing him vanished completely from the map.

Alarm bells rang in Snape's mind.

Unless Mulciber had become someone else, just like himself, there was no way he could enter the library.

And right where he disappeared, the Marauder's Map marked a secret passage leading to Hogsmeade.

Seeing Filch quietly stationed in his office behind the marble staircase, Snape dashed upstairs.

He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, hiding carefully among several suits of armor like a human chameleon, watching the closing crowd scatter in all directions.

Only after Madam Pince pulled the doors shut did Snape step out from the wall.

He approached a large mirror not far from the library, and following the instructions on the Marauder's Map, traced strange patterns on it with his wand, murmuring:

"Wingardium Leviosa."

Instantly, the mirror parted to the sides and receded into the wall.

A wide passage opened before him.