Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 149 Faded Summer

As soon as Grindelwald finished speaking, as if in response to his words, the rusty iron door of the cell suddenly creaked open with a piercing sound.

A fierce mountain wind carrying fragments of ice and snow rushed into the narrow cell, and the temperature plummeted.

Snape shivered at the chill, his purple star-patterned robes fluttering in the wind. He gripped the Elder Wand tightly and pointed it at Grindelwald.

Of course, what he saw was not the expected attack posture, but rather the ambiguous smile on Grindelwald's wrinkled face.

That expression was like a bucket of cold water poured over Snape's head, instantly sobering him up. He quickly switched the Elder Wand to his left hand, while his right hand reached inside his robes and pulled out a small purse.

He opened his wallet and took out two photos.

In the first photograph, in the idyllic countryside of Autry St. Catchpol, summer sunlight streams into a neat little garden, and Lily's fiery red hair flutters in the breeze. She is chatting with Snape, who is standing next to her, about something interesting in the sunlight.

In the second photograph, inside the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, Pandora's long, pale silver hair is casually tied up, with a few strands falling across her focused profile. She is carefully adjusting a complex alchemical device emitting colorful smoke. Snape stands beside her, cautiously observing the instrument's reactions, a thick, open notebook in his hand.

“Mr. Grindelwald, look at this.” Snape held up the photograph to Grindelwald’s eyes. “These are both girls I like.” He paused, then added, “They are both in exile at Hogwarts, constantly facing danger.”

Grindelwald's gaze lingered on the two photographs for a moment, his expression remaining largely unchanged, except that the enigmatic smile deepened.

“Interesting hobby, Severus.” He raised his grey eyes to Snape and asked a seemingly unrelated question, “Haven’t you ever taken a picture with your favorite teacher? Shouldn’t a promising student like you have some memories with the teachers who value you?”

"Why would I take a picture with a man?" Snape frowned slightly, a hint of confusion in his eyes. But he paused, as if recalling something. "However, I did see a picture of Professor Dumbledore when he was young in his office."

"Oh?" Grindelwald's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

“That photo is of him and a blond boy. They were probably about my age.” Snape observed Grindelwald’s reaction and slowly described, “In the bright sunlight, the two boys had their arms around each other’s shoulders.”

"Professor Dumbledore at that time had hair that reached his elbows and a wisp of sparse, undeveloped mustache on his chin. The boy next to him, who was holding his arm and laughing wildly, had golden curls that reached his shoulders, giving off a feeling of almost unrestrained joy."

Grindelwald's face remained expressionless, though a complex glint flickered deep in his eyes. Snape's description seemed to have struck a chord deep within him—that photograph, which he thought had been forgotten by that man long ago.

His deep voice rang out: "No matter how you saw that photo... don't lie, kid."

Although he said that, Snape seemed to detect an indescribable softening, or even a barely perceptible hint of joy, in his expression.

"Alright, tell me, what's the state of things outside?" Grindelwald waved his hand. "Who forced the all-powerful Dumbledore to the point where he had to ask me for help?"

Snape took a deep breath and began to recount the rise of Vander and his followers who called themselves "Death Eaters," Dumbledore's actions, and the fall of Hogwarts.

Throughout his narrative, he habitually used the term "mysterious man."

“The Mysterious Man?” Grindelwald interrupted him with a mocking laugh. “You call him ‘The Mysterious Man’? You don’t even dare to mention his name?” His eyes were filled with contempt for cowardice.

“Sorry, it’s just a habit,” Snape readily admitted. He looked directly at Grindelwald. “That man’s real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. But now, he calls himself Voldemort.”

“Voldemort?” Grindelwald chewed on the syllable, his face showing undisguised disgust. “What a strange and pretentious name. Flying Away from Death? Ha, vulgar ambition. That’s why I hate French.”

“Ha,” Snape thought, “you hate Paris too.”

After his silent rant, he continued, "Now, we are drifting in the sky with Muggle-born students and some faculty members, seeking a possible turning point."

"Professor Dumbledore... before he lost consciousness, he told me that in this era, Gellert Grindelwald was the only being capable of understanding, and perhaps even contending with, Voldemort on a power level. He believed in you."

"Therefore, I have come to beg you to leave Nurmengard and go to England to help us, to help Hogwarts, and to help Professor Dumbledore."

"Why should I help you?" Grindelwald asked in a low voice amidst the continuous howling of the mountain wind.

"What do you need us to do for you to help?" Snape asked.

Grindelwald's gaze slowly moved down and landed on the wand that Snape was holding tightly in his hand.

Without hesitation, Snape pushed the Elder Wand forward through the cold fence: "Here. Take it if you need it."

Grindelwald shook his head slowly and very slightly: "No, it's not that."

Snape asked tentatively, "So, do you want to revive your old career or ideals?"

Grindelwald shook his head again, this time with obvious impatience:

"Stop your speculations and probing, kid. I don't need to explain my past beliefs to you now, nor do I need to start over."

Snape pondered for a moment, then said, “Sir, if you are willing to help, Professor Dumbledore will be very, very grateful to you when he wakes up. You know, the students and teachers of Hogwarts, the place he has guarded his whole life, is everything he cares about most.”

This statement seems to have touched on a sensitive point.

A fleeting hint of displeasure flashed in Grindelwald's eyes. He knew, of course, what Albus cared about, and the way this young man expressed it in the form of "thank you" made him feel inexplicably awkward. But he didn't show it much, only his tone became colder:
"Thanks? Ha... I'm not interested in some old headmaster's cheap thanks. But since you keep comparing me to that Riddle, why don't you tell me in detail what 'remarkable' ideas this Riddle, who's giving Dumbledore such a headache, has been advocating?"

Snape begins to recount Voldemort's pure-blood supremacy theory, his persecution of Muggles and Muggle-born wizards, and his methods of creating terror.

As Grindelwald listened, the playful and sarcastic expression on his face gradually disappeared.

His face first showed disbelief, which was then replaced by an almost insulting anger.

"Pure-blood supremacy? Persecution of Muggle-borns?" His voice rose slightly, filled with undisguised contempt and anger. "Short-sighted, narrow-minded, and utterly base prejudice! What makes him think he can be compared to me?! The knowledge of you wizards this generation is truly... getting worse every year!"
"Does this kind of barbaric, aesthetically devoid, and strategically inept primitive violence deserve to be called an 'idea'?"
“Tell me, aside from using a bit of dark magic to frighten and toy with you cowards who are too scared to call your names, has Mr. Riddle ever achieved anything truly noteworthy that requires a bit of wisdom and strength?”

“Uh…” Snape thought for a moment and said, “He successfully created several Horcruxes.”

"Hordeals?" Grindelwald stood up from the hard bed, not because of the Elder Wand, but because of pure shock and disgust. "Has he gone mad? For the sake of so-called immortality, he tore his own soul to pieces? Turned himself into a monster that is neither human nor ghost?"

"And you, you've been driven to distraction by such a foolish and insane character, even turning Hogwarts into a drifting cruise ship?"

“I refuse!” He shook his head repeatedly as if he had been stained with something dirty, his tone full of contempt. “I refuse to associate my name with such a soulless, low-class madman who only knows how to manipulate base fears! He doesn’t deserve it!”
Grindelwald straightened up, and although he was still thin, a long-lost aura of authority was faintly emanating from him.

“I can offer assistance.” After a few seconds of stalemate, Grindelwald slowly withdrew his imposing aura. He stretched his joints, which had become stiff from sitting for so long, and said disdainfully, “To ‘restrain’ or even confront, ha, Mystic.”

“But my help is not free charity, nor is it out of pity for Albus Dumbledore.” “I simply cannot stand by any longer,” he said, glancing at Snape, “this generation’s so-called leader of the dark wizards is a disgrace.”

"My name has been overshadowed by this kind of scum? This is an insult to my life's work. I chose to help you only to correct this erroneous historical assessment."

“Yes, yes, that’s right,” Snape immediately echoed in an extremely sincere tone, “I completely agree. Little Tom Riddle, how could he possibly compare to you?”
"Mr. Gellert Grindelwald is the only wizard who is truly qualified to stand alongside Professor Albus Dumbledore, both in the past and now."

Grindelwald seemed pleased with Snape's "knowing what was good for him." He gave a light hum and commanded:
“Take me to your ark that wanders the sky, and take me to see what Albus Dumbledore looks like now. Also,” he held out his hand, “give me a wand.”

Snape instinctively reached forward and extended the Elder Wand once more.

“Not this one!” Grindelwald refused decisively, his tone tinged with impatience.

"Oh, okay." Snape realized his misunderstanding and quickly took an inconspicuous cloth bag from his bag, making a sound like wood clashing together.

Opening the bag, eleven wands of varying lengths and materials were found haphazardly piled inside. They were clearly secondhand, some with minor scratches on them, the very wands Snape had previously purchased from Borgin-Bock.

"Where did you get all these old wands?" Grindelwald looked at the wands with disdain. "Severus, does Dumbledore know you have this little hobby?"

“Don’t misunderstand, Mr. Grindelwald,” Snape replied calmly and seriously. “These were all purchased through legitimate business channels, not obtained through murder or robbery. At least… I didn’t handle them.”

Grindelwald didn't press the matter further, seemingly uninterested in delving into Snape's explanation.

His long, slender fingers swept over the wands one by one, without hesitation, and finally stopped on a wand that looked very simple, dark brown in color, with a natural curve and irregular patterns on the shaft.

"This is it," he said calmly.

Snape didn't ask why, he just quickly put away the rest of the wands.

Grindelwald held the old wand, casually weighing it in his hand, feeling its balance. He suddenly looked up at Snape, his eyes filled with a mixture of scrutiny and mockery:

"Aren't you worried... now that I have a magic wand..."

“What is there to worry about, Mr. Grindelwald?” Snape met his gaze and stated a fact in a calm tone, “It is 1977 now.”

Grindelwald stared at Snape for a few seconds, then let out a soft chuckle. He said nothing more, but instead raised the wand he had just acquired and gracefully swung it.

A gentle yet powerful magical wave swept across the cold cell in an instant, erasing the dust, grime, and the decaying atmosphere accumulated over the years.

Grindelwald's withered body seemed to have been infused with a bit of vitality; though still thin, his back straightened a little. His dry silver hair became smooth, and the wrinkles on his face seemed to have been smoothed out by magic, vaguely revealing his former features.

A well-tailored, retro-styled dark gray high-necked wizard's robe replaced the prison uniform. The inner lining was a high-quality white silk shirt, and the outer garment was a black cloak trimmed with mysterious runes embroidered in silver thread.

Grindelwald's attire strangely echoed the robes Snape was wearing at that moment.

Then, he pointed his wand at Snape and tapped him again.

A gentle force swept over him, and the ornate purple robe Snape wore to impersonate Dumbledore vanished instantly, replaced by a simple, unadorned black wizard's robe.

Grindelwald glanced at Snape, who was dressed in a pure black robe, and nodded with apparent satisfaction.

"follow me."

As soon as he finished speaking, he took the lead and walked towards the dark, empty, dusty corridor outside the prison.

His steps were slow, even somewhat unsteady due to his long confinement, but there was a sense of ease in his stride, as if he were stepping back into his own territory.

Snape followed closely. Looking at the figure walking ahead in the dim light, he couldn't help but ask:

"Mr. Grindelwald, are we just going to walk out like this? Won't the local Ministry of Magic find out?"

Grindelwald didn't turn his head, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm: "Discovered? Let them discover then. Severus Snape, since you dared to come to Nurmengard alone to find me, weren't you prepared to face any consequences?"

Snape paused for a moment, then followed Grindelwald down the winding stone steps and through the deathly silent hallway. Neither the national ministries of magic nor the International Confederation of Wizarding would offer any assistance to their efforts to resist Voldemort. So why bother with their current reactions?
As they approached the wide-open door, he spoke again: “Mr. Grindelwald, perhaps… you could change your appearance before going out? This might reduce some unnecessary trouble, especially during this special time, and also avoid causing Professor Dumbledore any additional annoyance.”

This sentence finally caused Grindelwald to pause slightly.

He still didn't turn around, nor did he say anything.

But just as they were about to step out of the gates of Nurmengard, Snape saw a noticeable change in Grindelwald's silhouette:

His shoulders seemed a little broader, and his height had adjusted slightly. His striking silver-white hair, under the influence of magic, rapidly shortened and changed color, becoming a common dark brown short hairstyle.

Although it was only his back, Snape knew that Grindelwald must have also used Transfiguration to change his appearance.

The two finally stepped out of the gates of Neumontgard Castle. The biting Alpine wind and falling snow immediately enveloped them.

Grindelwald did not stop, but walked straight ahead towards the vast mountains shrouded in wind and snow.

Snape followed a few steps behind him. As they were about to leave the castle grounds, he couldn't help but stop, turn around, and take one last look at Nurmengard, which stood atop the precipitous peak like a black tombstone.

In the wind and snow, the huge motto above the castle entrance appeared blurry and distant, like a faded summer day.

The snow crunched underfoot. Snape watched Grindelwald's retreating figure as he walked through the snowstorm and suddenly asked:
"Mr. Grindelwald, have you corresponded with Professor Dumbledore over the years?"

"Communication? Ha, do I look like I have the means to send a letter?" The figure continued forward through the snowstorm, and a self-deprecating voice drifted over from behind.

Snape quickly followed and whispered:

"Oh, no, that's fine. When we get there, you can tell him everything you want to say and talk about in person..."

　Thank you to Mango Plum Strawberry, Don't Take Reading Seriously, A Thousand Years of Wind and Rain, Xuan Qing, Plate Armor Spirit Master, Words Like the Wind, I Am the Raging Wave, ^, The Great King of Earth, Seven Days Cave Heaven, Pigs Can Fly, An Ordinary School Student, _Wang Bixian_, Great Sage of the Mechanical God Cult, Jiu Lingtian, Jia Ran Diana7mi, Dong An, Split Personalities Every Day, War King Xia Seji, Book Friend 20200318210355865, and Book Friend 20190729084521068 for their monthly tickets.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)