Hogwarts at night was empty and quiet. Any sound in the deep corridors echoed far and wide.
Snape's robes swept along the floor behind him, and his leather shoes echoed hollowly with every step. His cold expression and slightly hooked, sinister nose were enough to scare any student caught sneaking about at night.
But he wasn't on patrol tonight. He passed through the spiral staircase, strode along a corridor lined with portraits and armor, and finally arrived at the tower on the eighth floor.
An extremely ugly, stone-carved dripping beast blocked his way. Behind it was a revolving staircase, and at the top—his destination—the Headmaster's office.
Snape stared at the stone beast with a wooden expression. "Password: Cockroach Clusters."
The stone beast shifted aside. Snape ascended the stairs and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Inside, the spacious, round office glowed with warm light. Portraits of former headmasters hung all around. It was late, and most of them were snoring softly. A few were jolted awake by Snape's entrance and grumbled in protest.
"Ah, Severus." Dumbledore looked up from behind a vast desk, smiling warmly. "Good evening. Care for a Cockroach Cluster? Or perhaps a Fizzing Whizzbee?"
A floating plate full of sweets hovered in front of Snape, who swatted it away with barely veiled irritation.
His voice was strained, almost ground out between his teeth: "What is it? Be quick. I don't have time to waste."
Still smiling, Dumbledore waved the candy plate back, picked up a lively cockroach-shaped sweet, and popped it into his mouth. Then he gestured: "Come take a look, Severus."
Snape stepped forward and saw a letter lying open on Dumbledore's desk, bearing Ollivander's signature.
"After dinner, I wrote to Mr. Ollivander with a few questions. I'm pleased my old friend replied so quickly, though I do worry about his sleep schedule. I didn't expect a response until morning..." Dumbledore rambled.
Snape paid no attention to the small talk. His sharp eyes scanned the parchment. Ollivander was explaining the details of a wand.
"…I must admit, it's a powerful wand. Only the most gifted wizards ever win its full affection. I never imagined it would choose a child, Vaughn Weasley. It's quite beyond expectation…"
"…But Dumbledore, in answer to your inquiry, I must say no one is born fixed, and no wand is eternally bound. Wands and wizards grow together. I cannot offer hard proof for your concerns. I only hope you'll act with caution—"
Yours faithfully,
Garrick Ollivander
Snape's eyes paused on Vaughn Weasley. He raised his head slowly and gave Dumbledore a sharp look. A hint of sarcasm crept across his frosty expression. "What now? Another budding Dark wizard added to your blacklist?"
The smile vanished from Dumbledore's face. After a brief pause, he replied softly, "I believe in Arthur and Molly."
Which, in Snape's mind, meant only Arthur and Molly. As for Vaughn…
"Hmph." It was exactly the answer he expected. He let out a cold chuckle. "So what's the plan? While keeping an eye on your precious Chosen One, I should also watch out for his wicked little classmate?"
"I never said he was wicked, Severus."
"Hmph."
Dumbledore sighed. "The timing is delicate. We must focus on Harry's growth, ensure he becomes the one foretold. I'm not shirking responsibility, but we don't know what tampering with fate might do. Better? Worse?"
His gaze met Snape's, solemn and unflinching. He didn't use Legilimency—he didn't need to. He simply wanted Snape to see the sincerity in his eyes.
"Help me. You saw it, didn't you? Harry's eyes… Lily's eyes…"
"That's enough!" Snape's voice rose uncontrollably. His chest heaved as emotions surged, almost shattering his Occlumency defenses.
That feeling—it was poison. And it had tormented him for ten years.
Silence fell in the office. After a long pause, Snape's voice returned to its usual, chilly calm.
"If that's all, I have a lesson plan to prepare. I'm quite looking forward to tomorrow. Let's hope your savior won't be outshone by his 'evil' classmate."
With that, he turned sharply and swept out of the office.
"Thank you, Severus. Sweet dreams…" The office grew quiet again. Dumbledore lowered his head and reread the letter, his fingers tracing the ink-stained parchment as though trying to commit every word to memory.
After an unknown stretch of time, he finally murmured, "Armando, have you ever wondered what might've happened to Tom… if we had shown him more care from the beginning?"
A portrait of an old wizard who had been pretending to sleep rolled over and muttered, "Who knows?"
"Yes… who knows…"
…
The next morning, Vaughn woke at his usual time. He'd eaten and rested well the night before, and his internal clock never failed him.
To his surprise, the other two Slytherin boys had shown more sense than expected—they had quietly returned, packed their things, and moved out that very night.
Now, Vaughn had the entire dormitory to himself. The feeling was excellent.
He got out of bed just before dawn, around five o'clock, washed up, changed into his robe, and left with Hexby in tow.
Passing through the common room, he noticed the prefect who had fainted was nowhere to be seen, likely dragged off by a roommate.
The fireplace still crackled warmly, probably the work of house elves. Without stopping, Vaughn pushed open the stone door and stepped into the corridor.
It was still early. Most students were asleep, still bound by their lack of self-discipline. He wandered the empty halls and courtyards for a while, eventually finding a path that led down to the Black Lake.
Once there, Vaughn gently patted Hexby's head. "Go on, have fun."
The striped cat leapt away, frolicking on the dew-covered grass by the lakeshore. Vaughn sat cross-legged, quietly enjoying the morning air and the mirror-like surface of the lake.
It was a perfect place to relax. If it stayed uncrowded, he might make a habit of visiting.
After a while, as the castle behind him began to stir, Vaughn called Hexby back.
By the time they returned, the Great Hall had already started to fill. From across the room, Vaughn spotted a familiar, messy-haired girl at the Gryffindor table.
Hexby also recognized the two-legged creature she had met on the train and trotted over curiously.
The girl froze for a moment, then seemed to realize who the cat belonged to. She turned quickly, and when her eyes met Vaughn's, they lit up.