Hogwarts: The Way Home

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Transmitted for thousands of years, having endured the vicissitudes of history, the ancient castle still exuded a mysterious magic amidst the falling snow. During the Christmas holiday, Hogwarts was much quieter than usual. In the empty castle, apart from the whispers of the figures in the portraits hanging on both sides of the narrow corridors and the clanging sounds made by the standing suits of armor, only Peeves' sharp, grating singing occasionally pierced the castle's tranquility.

Severus Snape's agile strides made his robes billow like a waving cape. The entire person looked like a large bat with outstretched wings but running on its feet. The grimness on his face and his pale lips indicated that he was in a very bad mood.

"Ice-cold lemon juice."

The ugly stone gargoyle nimbly jumped aside upon hearing the correct password, even a bit flustered, as if fearing something. Snape strode into the cracked wall. The moment he stepped into the circular office hidden behind the wall, his mood inexplicably worsened a few more degrees.

Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of his time, leaned back in his chair. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his impossibly deep, cerulean gaze was cast upon the high, distant Dome of the office. His long, slender fingers were interlocked, resting on a narrow-legged desk laden with bizarre alchemical devices and piles of unanswered letters.

"Where have you been?" Snape glanced at Dumbledore's still-worn purple traveling cloak, his tone direct and blunt.

"Just out for a stroll," Dumbledore retracted his deep gaze, smiling gently, "You know, Severus, for an old man like me, a moderate amount of exercise is very necessary."

"Indeed," Snape's lips curled in a faint sneer, "Strolling for days, have we?"

Snape's reaction was predictable. Dumbledore smiled unconcernedly. "How is Miss Granger?"

"Stable enough. Madam Pomfrey handled her case correctly. She'll be back to normal after a few weeks of rest."

Snape's tone was stiff, but he finally answered the question truthfully. But when he saw Dumbledore looking relieved and preparing to move past the issue, he finally couldn't hold back his anger. "I imagine you're well aware of what those self-important, attention-seeking Gryffindors did. They privately brewed Polyjuice Potion and audaciously broke into my office to steal ingredients. Dumbledore, when did this school become so lenient that violating school rules and stealing a professor's property can be allowed?"

"Despicable acts are never permitted," Snape's relentless pursuit seemed to weary the travel-worn Dumbledore. He removed his spectacles, rubbing his brow. "But we should observe people's intentions through their actions to judge whether their hearts are equally despicable. Severus, I don't believe Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger's actions in investigating the truth behind the attacks count as despicable."

"So you intend to just let it go, even if he might encounter danger due to his reckless actions?" For some reason, Snape's face was slightly pale in the gentle firelight. In his words, although he didn't explicitly name "he," Snape was confident that Dumbledore would understand. The office suddenly fell silent. Only the previous headmasters in the series of portraits hanging on the walls emitted faint snores, and Fawkes' faint but clear chirps.

"It's not letting it go, Severus, but observing," After a long silence, Dumbledore spoke again, but his tone lacked that silent confidence. "Indeed, the line between courage and recklessness is sometimes not so clear. But we should be more tolerant towards young people, Severus, to try and avoid stifling their innate strengths."

"Tolerant?" Snape's lips twitched. He reluctantly, yet uncontrollably, recalled his own time as a student at this school. "Don't flatter yourself, Headmaster Dumbledore. You've always only tolerated the students you admired." Snape had completely transferred his hatred for James Potter and his affection for Lily Evans onto Harry. On one hand, he had to protect the son of the woman he loved, and on the other hand, he had to endure this child being so similar to his father. This twisted Snape's emotions immensely.

"Let's end this topic, Severus," Ever since Harry Potter entered this school, privately, such conversations had occurred countless times. Even Dumbledore was very helpless about it. "Would you mind going to the school gates to welcome a guest for me?" Dumbledore stood up. The clothes he was wearing couldn't be worn to meet a guest. "Actually, this task should have been given to Minerva. Unfortunately, she accepted an invitation from the Transfiguration Today editorial team to attend a transfiguration party. It's a rare leisure for her, and I try not to disturb her."

Snape was not interested in Dumbledore's private meeting. He turned and strode away. Because of the memories flickering in his mind, his face was even worse than when he first entered the office. But by some strange impulse, before leaving the office, he suddenly stopped, turned back to look at Dumbledore, who was cleaning mud from the hem of his robes with his wand, and asked suspiciously, "Who did you arrange to meet?"

"Ah—actually, I originally planned for you to discover this surprise at the school gates, but since you asked," Dumbledore smiled, and an unreadable light shone once again in his cerulean eyes, "Armostad Blaine, the student you've admired most these past few years."

December 31st, 7:40 PM.

Armostad, having taken the express train and disembarked at Hogsmeade Station, trudged through a long, snow-covered path and arrived punctually outside the great iron gates of Hogwarts. The two winged boar sculptures at the school gates guarded this magnificent magical school as they had for a thousand years. Armostad's gaze, filled with emotion, passed through the iron gate's bars, flew over the Quidditch pitch with its six tall goalposts, and the somber ancient castle perched on the cliff edge, until it vanished into the boundless Forbidden Forest. He had to admit, returning here felt even better than he had imagined.

"I guessed as soon as I got on the train that it would be you, Professor, coming to meet me." The rust-stained gate slowly creaked open. Armostad stepped through the school gate, walking towards the dark figure striding towards him. When Severus Snape's expressionless face became silhouetted in the dim light, Armostad put down his suitcase, opened his arms, and revealed a genuine smile.