Hogwarts i am snape

"Do sit down," Dumbledore said, turning to take an ancient wooden box from behind his desk. The most striking thing about it was the nine peculiar locks arranged neatly across its surface.

"Is the diadem inside there?" Snape leaned forward slightly in the armchair, curiously examining the box.

Dumbledore didn't answer immediately. He drew his wand from his sleeve and gave a gentle flick. All the office windows instantly closed, and even Fawkes's song vanished behind an invisible barrier.

The air grew extraordinarily silent; only their faint breathing could be heard.

Once seated, the Headmaster took a large bunch of keys from a drawer and patiently began inserting them, one by one, into the box's lock-holes. Each key corresponded to a specific lock, even making different sounds as it turned.

When the ninth key turned, the box gave a dull clunk. Snape held his breath, expecting to see a vast pit, like a cellar – much like the place Mad-Eye might end up spending a year – but inside the box was merely another, slightly smaller box, this one bearing seven locks.

For the next few minutes, Snape watched the Headmaster repeat the unlocking ritual.

The third box had five locks, the fourth had three, until the fifth box – the one with only a single lock-hole – was produced, and Dumbledore's bunch of keys was entirely used up.

Under Snape's gaze, the Headmaster drew the very last key from his robes. This key was unlike the others; it was entirely silver, with a tiny sapphire embedded in its handle.

With a crisp click as the key entered the lock, the box lid slowly opened. There, resting on red velvet lining, lay a dull, tarnished diadem. A sapphire was set into the diadem, and liquid seemed to flow within the gem.

"Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem," Dumbledore murmured softly, taking it from the box and placing it solemnly on the tabletop.

With a wave of his hand, the boxes layered themselves back together and flew into a corner.

Staring at the diadem up close, Snape found it almost impossible to tear his gaze away. The diadem seemed to possess a life of its own, drawing his attention.

"A Horcrux will resist those who attempt to destroy it," Dumbledore took a deep breath, breaking Snape's trance, "especially when its creator is still alive in a relatively sound form." He looked directly into Snape's eyes and asked, "Are you ready, Severus?"

Snape nodded, forcing himself to concentrate. He stood up, drew his silver dagger from his sleeve, removed it from its sheath, and slowly approached the diadem.

When the dagger's tip was about seven inches from the diadem, the diadem began to tremble slightly, the sapphire emitting a dazzling light, and the tabletop made a faint taptap sound, as if invisible insects were crawling upon it.

The thing inside seems to be growing agitated, Snape thought.

As the dagger drew closer, a translucent female apparition rose from the diadem. Her ethereal robes flowed like water, and she wore a diadem identical to the real one on her head. Her face was noble yet sorrowful.

Snape had seen her portrait in Hogwarts: A History. This was the very image of Rowena Ravenclaw herself.

"By what right do you intend to destroy the symbol of wisdom?" the apparition's voice echoed directly within Snape's mind, like distant bells drifting on the wind.

His hand paused. The voice reminded him of the scent of paper and ink when he first touched a book, and the joyous feeling of losing himself in words.

"Carry on," Dumbledore's voice came from far away.

"Do you know the weight this object bears?" the apparition continued, her hands folded across her chest. Her eyes suddenly grew extraordinarily bright, like stars in the night sky. "Destroy it, and you also destroy the only key to certain ancient wisdom. Do you have no regrets?"

Cold sweat beaded on Snape's forehead. His hand involuntarily drooped slightly.

"Severus!" Dumbledore's voice was like a bucket of cold water poured over his head.

Snape gritted his teeth, pushing the dagger forward. The apparition's expression changed, nobility replaced by urgency.

"Wait!" Her voice suddenly became vibrant. "I know many lost magics – the secret of transmuting lead to gold, the mystery of flying without external aid, potions that raise the dead! I can help you advance magic to an unprecedented degree; I can teach you, you can gain everything you desire –"

"Tell me, how does one fly without external aid?" Snape unconsciously asked, halting his movements.

The apparition's lips subtly curved upwards: "It requires adjusting the flow of magical energy, combined with specific wand movements and incantations. I can teach you in detail –"

"How long would it take to master?" Snape pressed.

"That depends on your aptitude; three months at the shortest would suffice –" the apparition said gently.

"Ahem, ahem." Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"Oh," Snape shook his head, a cold smile playing on his lips, and pushed his wrist forward another inch, "but I'm in a bit of a hurry, lovely and wise Lady Ravenclaw. Perhaps next time you can teach me yourself."

The diadem suddenly bounced half a foot high, and Ravenclaw's face twisted into a contorted grimace.

Dumbledore, quick as lightning, pressed down on the agitated diadem, and the apparition immediately turned to the Headmaster, her expression angry and distorted.

"You are the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and I am the relic of Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of this school." Her voice began to change, growing deeper and deeper. "I am an ancient symbol of this school, Headmaster. It is your responsibility and duty to protect the founder's legacy."

Dumbledore, however, smiled pleasantly.

"Good evening, Tom," he said in a casual tone, "You seem –" he surveyed the apparition's beautiful form, "much prettier than when we last met."

The apparition froze, her face beginning to melt like hot wax. When she reshaped, though she still retained Ravenclaw's appearance, she had completely lost her noble demeanor.

"You're not trying to destroy my life, Dumbledore?" a completely different, cold male voice emanated from her. "You wouldn't stoop to such cruelty, would you?"

"We both know there are other ways to destroy a person, Tom," Dumbledore said lightly. "Besides, some things are far worse than death –"

"Nothing is worse than death, Dumbledore!" the apparition shrieked, her pale silver eyes consumed by crimson, pupils narrowing to slits.

The strange silver instruments on the desk spun furiously, puffing out wisps of white smoke. Fawkes flew agitatedly from his perch but could not approach them further.

"There you are mistaken," Dumbledore said gently. He waved his hand, and the silver instruments gradually slowed, falling silent, and Fawkes settled back onto his perch.

"Shall I continue, Professor?" Snape asked. He couldn't help but feel a wave of discomfort at Tom's female-bodied, male-voiced form and didn't want to hear that voice for another second.

"Oh, yes, do carry on," Dumbledore said light-heartedly.

As the dagger pushed forward again, the diadem let out an ear-splitting shriek, and the apparition completely dissolved into a swirling black mist, its blood-red eyes fixed on Snape:

"You will regret this! What do you want – power? Recognition? I can give you rewards beyond your wildest dreams! Blast it, is there nothing you desire?!"

"There are many things I desire," Snape said coldly, "for example, everything about you."

The instant his dagger plunged, the diadem erupted in a blinding red light. It suddenly became scorching hot.

Smoke hissed and curled from Dumbledore's hand as he pressed down on the diadem, but he didn't budge.

"Quickly!" the Headmaster's voice was unusually strained.

A flash of cold light, followed by a crisp shattering sound, and the sapphire split in two. A blood-like, inky, viscous substance seemed to seep from the diadem, trailing across the desk onto the carpet, making a hissing, corrosive sound.

Rowena Ravenclaw's apparition twisted and struggled, her arms flailing ceaselessly, wildly clawing at the air. She let out faint, distant screams of agony, before finally dissolving into a wisp of black smoke.

Snape stumbled back, the dagger in his hand still trembling slightly. He watched as the viscous liquid corroded half of the office desk, and the carpet emitted pungent black smoke.

"Well done, Severus," Dumbledore said, releasing the diadem. His hands bore charred marks. "You were more decisive than I imagined. And, more commendably, you didn't stab my hand."

Snape didn't respond to the Headmaster's jest. His gaze fell upon Dumbledore's burnt, blackened hand, and he asked worriedly, "Professor, your hand –?"

"Oh, it's nothing major," Dumbledore said with a smile. He walked to a cabinet, trembling as he tried to open the door, but failed. "Come, Severus, help me," he said, "help a helpless old man out of his misery."

Hearing these familiar words, Snape almost thought the old man before him was about to breathe his last. He even conjured up a myriad of convoluted yet seemingly brilliant plans in his mind, thoughtfully arranging an ending for everyone involved.

"Will you die, Professor?" he couldn't help but ask, a trace of nervousness in his voice that he himself didn't notice.

"What are you talking about, Severus?" Dumbledore asked in confusion. "Come quickly and help me open the cabinet door!"

"Oh, right," Snape seemed to snap out of a reverie, hurrying to Dumbledore's side and pulling open the cabinet door.

"And then, Professor?"

"This black potion bottle," Dumbledore lifted his hand and vaguely indicated its position. Snape's hand tentatively brushed past several crystal vials. "No – the other one – yes, that one."

At the Headmaster's signal, Snape opened the crystal bottle and poured its liquid onto Dumbledore's hand. In the scent of the potion, he recognized dittany, bezoar, mandrake, and several other common healing or anti-poison ingredients.

Under the potion's effect, the burn marks on Dumbledore's hand gradually faded.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore wiggled his fingers, took his wand from his pocket, and shakily pointed it at his hand, mumbling an unknown incantation. Then, he switched the wand to his other hand and repeated the process.

"Your hand is completely recovered, isn't it?" Snape asked, carefully observing the Headmaster's actions.

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "You wouldn't wish me to be worse, would you?"

"Of course not!" Snape exclaimed. "It's just that what you said earlier was so easily misunderstood!"

"Right," Dumbledore turned and walked towards the desk. "These fragments of the diadem –"

"Give them all to me," Snape quickly interjected, putting the Horcrux fragments into his pocket. "They're quite a memento. Years from now, perhaps I can point to them and tell young people of my glorious achievements."

"As you wish, but please treat them carefully all the same." Dumbledore suddenly smiled, a genuine, eye-crinkling smile. "It seems I'll need a new desk and carpet."

"And," he said, "I'm planning to visit a certain 'old friend' in Azkaban soon. Could I borrow your dagger?" "What dagger?" Snape swiftly hid the weapon in his sleeve. "Oh dear, I forgot! Hagrid's roosters!" He rushed towards the door. "Farewell, Professor –"

Lights glowed in Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and smoke curled from the chimney.

When Snape, leading a formidable group of roosters, knocked on his door, Hagrid's hairy face peered out from the window.

"Merlin's dragons!" Hagrid exclaimed, vanishing from the window-sill, only to yank open the door a few seconds later, his small, dark eyes fixed on the roosters in Snape's hands.

The roosters immediately flapped their wings and surged towards Hagrid, and Snape swiftly untied the ropes binding them.

"They're lovely, Severus," Hagrid said, stroking the roosters' feathers with his thick fingers, his voice trembling with excitement. "Much bigger than before!"

When the rooster with the flowery comb flew up to the rafters to peck at the ham and pheasant hanging from the ceiling, his eyes even shone with tears.

"They're eating your things," Snape reminded him.

"The more they eat, the bigger they'll grow!" Hagrid gazed adoringly at the roosters leaping among the rafters. "Eat more, my darlings –" Then, he suddenly lowered his voice, looking down at Snape. "What did you feed them, Severus?"

"Don't ask questions you shouldn't, Comrade Hagrid!" Snape said sternly. "Don't forget the Order of the Phoenix's discipline!"

"Right, right," Hagrid scratched his head. "I won't ask, then."

"Excellent," Snape said, pointing at the roosters. "This time, they were a great help to Professor Dumbledore. You won't eat them later, will you, Hagrid?"

"Eat them?" Hagrid's voice rose several pitches, and an expression of shock appeared on his face. He clearly found Snape's words utterly preposterous. "How could I do such a thing? I'm going to build them a new, bigger chicken coop! Perhaps I can even breed a new variety."

A few minutes later, Snape, waving a bag of rock cakes, smiled and bid Hagrid farewell. As he turned to leave, he heard Hagrid humming an off-key song inside the hut.

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