It was early autumn, and the night was cold.
The two walked toward the Astronomy Tower.
The stone steps were narrow. Douglas walked ahead and glanced back at Snape.
His face was colder than the stone walls.
He held a thermos with both hands behind his back. He looked casual, but Douglas could see his wariness.
Douglas could not help laughing.
"Relax, Professor. This is just an ordinary dinner."
"Besides, Headmaster Dumbledore hasn't developed a habit of cooking his colleagues in a pot yet."
Snape's expression did not change in the slightest.
"Yet..."
"What does he want to discuss this time?"
"Perhaps the weather."
"Do you believe that yourself?"
"Fifty-fifty."
Douglas shrugged.
"The other half might be world affairs, educational reform, the Dark Lord, or how long to cook dinner."
Snape paused for half a beat.
"You added that last item to make the whole sentence sound less absurd."
"Professor."
Douglas turned his head toward him.
"Sometimes the most absurd part happens to be the truest."
Snape did not reply.
They passed through the final spiral staircase one behind the other.
The night sky opened up above the tower. The wind blew the clouds high, and the faint starlight glimmered like polished silverware.
A round table and three chairs stood on the Astronomy Tower.
A small copper pot sat in the middle, bubbling and steaming away.
Only after seeing that it was not a cauldron did Snape refrain from turning around and leaving.
Dumbledore had been waiting for quite some time, staring at the hot pot, his silvery-white beard stirring in the wind.
Behind his half-moon glasses, his eyes sharpened a little as he looked at Snape.
"Good evening, Severus."
Snape walked straight over, meeting Dumbledore's gaze without fear.
"Good evening, Headmaster. I thought this was a gathering for the