The gargoyle stirred.
It was used to Snape's furious tirades.
It answered the gritted-out "Cockroach Clusters" by silently moving aside.
Every time this black-robed man came, he looked as though he had just crawled off a battlefield, anger his armor and venom his sword.
But today was different.
His anger did not erupt. It condensed into a lump of black coal, burning in his chest.
Snape practically barged through the oak door.
Inside the office, silver instruments ticked amid a cloyingly sweet smell.
Dumbledore sat behind his enormous desk, his half-moon spectacles slipping to the tip of his nose, engrossed in a pile of rubbish. Multicolored sweet wrappers and Muggle books with garish covers.
Snape glanced over the titles.
"Child Psychology," "How to Communicate Effectively with Adolescents." Dumbledore's brow was furrowed, his concentration greater than when deciphering ancient spells.
"Ah, Severus." Dumbledore looked up, his worried expression switching to a cheerful smile so quickly it seemed like an illusion.
He picked up a pink sweet and eagerly offered it to him.
"Would you like some Big Babol Bubble Gum? A Muggle creation. Quite fascinating, and you can blow very large bubbles with it."
Bang!
Snape slammed his palm onto the desk, making the silver instruments hum.
The sweet tumbled from Dumbledore's fingertips.
"Albus!!!"
Snape's voice was hoarse, every word forced through clenched teeth.
"I've had enough of your guessing games!"
His pitch-black eyes held none of their usual acerbity, only the pure fury of someone who had been toyed with beyond endurance.
"Alastor Moody-what the hell is he?!"
The smile on Dumbledore's face remained unchanged, but the light in his blue eyes dimmed.
He did not answer. His gaze shifted toward the medieval suit of armor in the corner.
He spoke to that empty patch of shadow.
"Douglas, it seems