Cemetery

Snape swiftly scanned both sides of the corridor, then tucked away the map and strode into the passage.

With a click, the mirror closed behind him again, blocking the chandelier's light and plunging the passage into darkness.

He could not help sighing to himself. Compared to a Slytherin, I'm more like a Gryffindor now. I wonder if I'll ever get the chance to be a Sword Saint...

"Lumos!"

A soft glow lit up at the tip of his wand. Before him lay a flat, open stretch of space, and at its far end, a descending stone staircase loomed faintly into view.

Wasn't this the Secret Passage that would collapse while the Weasley twins were still at school?

What could this place be used for? Snape rubbed his chin as he pondered. Smuggling cursed objects through the passage, or secretly releasing dangerous magical creatures?

So, should he go down and take a look?

What if he ran into Mulciber halfway through...

At that thought, a cold smile curled across his lips as he thought:

Oh, there was no need to worry about that. That brat was bound to become a Death Eater in the future. Snape was not Dumbledore; he had no unrealistic notion of saving everyone's soul.

As long as sending Mulciber to meet Merlin did not split his own soul, it would be fine.

Good luck to him.

For safety's sake, Snape extinguished the light on his wand. He pressed sideways against the wall and carefully made his way down the stairs.

Time slipped by without his noticing. He had no idea how long he had walked before the passage began to slope upward.

As he continued on, a pungent, strange stench grew stronger and stronger.

Without warning, Snape's head slammed into something hard.

He rubbed his forehead and paused for a moment before slowly pushing open the trapdoor above him. Squinting, he peered inside through the gap.

Once he saw the state of the room, Snape finally understood where that strange smell came from—straw and droppings littered the floor, along with scattered bones from some unidentifiable small animals.

He climbed out and closed the trapdoor behind him. Hidden beneath the straw, it blended perfectly with the surrounding floorboards, without the slightest trace of a flaw.

This was the Owlery at the Hogsmeade post office.

Listening to the rustling all around him, Snape recalled the strange pattern he had drawn on the mirror earlier. So it had been the outline of an owl.

Owls flew in and out from time to time, and beyond the windows stretched a bright starry sky.

Carefully avoiding the bird droppings on the floor, Snape crept outside.

Hogsmeade was silent at night.

The shops lining the street were pitch-black. The outlines of the distant mountains were swallowed by darkness, and the bend in the road leading to Hogwarts was barely visible. Only the windows of The Three Broomsticks gave off a dim yellow glow.

"Where is Mulciber..." Snape muttered softly.

He wandered up and down the street, but there was not a soul in sight.

Just as he was considering whether to approach the Three Broomsticks and peer through the windows into the tavern, a figure came hurrying down the road from the edge of the village.

The person was wrapped in a cloak with a hood over their head, glancing nervously around as they walked.

Snape stopped and calmly watched as the figure passed by him and entered the Owlery.

This had to be Mulciber.

Snape headed in the direction Mulciber had come from. He had never been this way before.

The winding path led him into the desolate fields surrounding Hogsmeade. There were only a few small wooden cottages here, but each came with a large plot of land.

Ancient gravestones stood scattered across those plots. This was the Villager Cemetery of Hogsmeade.

There was a narrow gate at the cemetery entrance. Snape pushed it open as quietly as he could and slipped inside.

Now and then, he spotted familiar surnames on the gravestones: Rosmerta, Devis, Pudifoot...

Had Mulciber just been here? And what had he been doing here?

Snape had originally thought Mulciber had come to Hogsmeade to meet someone.

Snape looked around. Other than cold stone, bones buried underground, and soil, there was nothing here.

With no other choice, he set off back the way he had come.

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Snape suddenly realized something: why was he waiting for the Death Eaters to act? Why not just blow up the staircase leading down into the passage?

No sooner said than done, he raised his wand.

"Blasting Curse!"

"Diffindo!"

"Bombarda!"

A series of thunderous booms rang out. The wall merely lost a little surface plaster, and a few wisps of dust drifted lightly onto the stone steps.

"Huh?" Snape stared at the scene before him in disbelief and muttered, "How exactly did Fred and George manage to collapse this place?"

Just then, he noticed several black dots on the Marauder's Map racing toward him.

Not daring to linger, Snape fled the Secret Passage and dashed along the small path toward the dungeons.

When he returned to the dormitory, he noticed that Mulciber's bed curtains had already been pulled tightly shut.

The next day in Charms class, everyone was diligently practicing Aguamenti, and streams of clear water bubbled up throughout the classroom.

While everyone practiced, Snape quietly turned sideways, leaned toward Pandora, and began speaking to her in a low voice.

"I want to ask you something," he said, deciding to consult a professional. "How can you demolish a building efficiently and precisely?"

"Just use a blasting spell. It's very simple," Pandora answered casually without even thinking, twirling her wand as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

"Simple? You've tried it?"

"Of course. Lots of times." Pandora nodded firmly.

Snape drew in a sharp breath and pressed, "You practiced on objects, right?"

"What else would I practice on?" Pandora gave Snape a puzzled look.

"Cough, cough. What if the spell doesn't work?"

"Hmm... then there might be protective magic on it." Pandora thought for a moment. "But ordinary protective magic will fail under a blasting spell too."

"What if the protective magic isn't ordinary?"

Snape told her about the results of his spells.

After hearing his description, Pandora's eyes lit up, and she became wildly excited.

"Then we'll need to judge it on-site. Where is this passage? I want to see it."

"All right. I'll take you there later," Snape said.

During the rest of the practice, Pandora remained lost in anticipation, and she put a little too much force into swinging her wand.

She turned the stream of water she was supposed to conjure into a water dragon, which shot straight at Professor Flitwick, who was standing atop a stack of books observing everyone's practice, and blasted him into the ceiling.

After Professor Flitwick landed, dried himself with a wave of his wand, and punished Pandora by making her write, "I am a witch, not a baboon waving a stick around," Snape said to her with some doubt:

"Are you sure you have enough experience with precise demolition?"

"Trust me!" Pandora promised, thumping her chest.