Hogwarts: I am Snape

Both of them were dressed in formal robes, seemingly waiting for Snape's return.

Sirius's face showed struggle, his lips were tightly pressed together, and his eyes darted between Snape and James; James, on the other hand, was completely different. He bypassed the hesitation, his eyes burning as he stared directly at Snape.

Before Sirius could even gather his thoughts, James took a half-step forward.

“Severus,” his voice was hoarse, “we saw your light was on and knew you were back, so we came over.”

“You said before that you would find a way to give us a chance to ‘communicate’ with Little Petr. I think… it’s time.”

Snape glanced at the two of them, showing no surprise, and simply asked, "So eager? Can't you wait a few more days?"

“The sooner the better.” James practically spat out the words through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to wait another minute! The thought of him still on this ship, breathing the same air as us, without facing any punishment, makes me sick!”

Snape looked at him calmly for a few seconds, nodded slightly, and lowered his voice: "The night after tomorrow, after lights out, at exactly twelve o'clock. You can go to the lower-level solitary confinement cell. I will make sure... there is a five-minute gap when the house-elves change shifts. That should be enough."

“However,” he paused, then changed the subject, “have you figured out how to end this ‘exchange’?”

James was visibly taken aback. He had clearly only thought about the process of "communication" and hadn't considered what would happen next.

He then shook his head, his voice low and hollow: "I don't care, I don't care about anything anymore..."

But after saying that, he suddenly turned his head to look at Sirius beside him and said, "Sirius, I'll go by myself. You don't need to go."

"What?!" Sirius Black seemed to have been stung, his voice rising instantly, his messy black hair almost standing on end. "Pitchfork, what the hell do you mean by this?! That traitor—he killed—we said we'd be together—that's our revenge! I have to go, and you're not getting rid of me!" He grabbed James's arm, his emotions running high.

James didn't argue with Sirius. He simply looked at his best friend with an unusually calm yet resolute gaze, shook his head slightly, and said nothing.

Then, he pulled away from Sirius's hand, turned his gaze back to Snape, and uttered two words with great difficulty and indistinctness: "Thank you...you..."

Snape watched this scene expressionlessly, saying nothing more. He simply nodded slightly, took a step back, turned and went back to his room, closing the hatch behind him.

……

Two days later, late at night.

Snape was awakened from his light sleep by a series of rapid, soft knocks on the door. He glanced at the full moon outside the window, quickly got up, put on his black robe, and opened the hatch.

"Excuse me, Mr. Snape!" The house-elf Griffith stared wide-eyed, anxiously wringing his fingers. "Professor McGonagall sent Griffith to inform you that you need to go to the captain's cabin immediately!"

"Understood," Snape replied in a low voice. "Thank you, Griffith." He then casually fastened his robes and strode towards the captain's cabin.

Griffith bowed deeply to Snape's retreating figure, remaining seated for a long time before running slowly toward the other cabins.

In the dimly lit corridor, only Snape's footsteps could be heard.

The fact that he was summoned so late at night gave him a clue. It was likely that James and his group had targeted Wormtail. Professor McGonagall's call to the group was probably to discuss how to handle this "lynching" incident and the two people involved. Things were a bit troublesome, but not entirely unexpected.

He walked to the captain's cabin door and pushed it open to enter.

The room was brightly lit. Professor McGonagall was indeed standing in the center of the room, slightly turned to the side, whispering something to someone.

Snape's gaze immediately swept past Professor McGonagall's shoulder, landing squarely on the figure beside her—

He was an elderly man with white hair, wearing a purple star-patterned wizard's robe, and with a long silver beard hanging down to his chest.

Behind the crescent-shaped glasses, a pair of deep blue eyes, sparkling with intelligence, looked remarkably well despite the weariness of someone recovering from a long illness.

It's Albus Dumbledore! He's awake!
"Professor!" Snape's voice held a hint of surprise, and a relief he himself didn't even realize. He strode forward, looking Dumbledore up and down. "You...when did you wake up?"

“You’ve had a tough time these past few days, Severus.” Dumbledore turned to Snape with a warm smile. “I just woke up not long ago, and I’m feeling much better.”

“Although Minerva suggested that I rest a little longer, I thought it would be a better idea to let you see me as soon as possible. So, I insisted that she inform everyone immediately that she was sorry to disturb your rest.” The principal’s voice was still a little weak, but clear and steady.

“Professor, I thought it would take at least a few more weeks for the potion to take effect and bring you back to consciousness, but I didn’t expect…” Snape said, then suddenly exclaimed as if he remembered something, “Ah, right!” He immediately took the elder wand from his robe pocket and handed it to Dumbledore, “Your wand.”

Dumbledore's gaze fell on the Elder Wand's distinctive, knotted shape, but he didn't reach out to take it. He looked up, his smile deepening, and slowly shook his head at Snape.

“Severus,” he said, “I think you’re mistaken. This precious, ancient elder wand is not the one I lost.”

"What?" Snape was speechless for a moment, his hand holding the wand frozen in mid-air, his brows furrowing slightly. "Professor, this is your wand. I only borrowed it temporarily while you were unconscious."

“No, no, no.” Dumbledore still smiled, but his eyes were unusually serious, with a childlike stubbornness. “I am an honest man, Severus. My wand is not that precious, nor that powerful. It is just an ordinary spell-casting tool. Give me another one.”

Holding the Elder Wand, Snape stared into Dumbledore's all-seeing blue eyes and understood what the old headmaster meant.

A hint of reluctance flashed across his face as he met Dumbledore's gentle gaze for a few seconds before finally giving in.

Reluctantly withdrawing his hand, Snape stuffed the Elder Wand back into his robes and rummaged through his bag, pulling out another wand that looked much more ordinary—a spare, unremarkable wand.

"Here you go, your iron wand!" He threw it forcefully at Dumbledore, almost in a fit of pique.

Dumbledore, however, cheerfully caught the flying wand, weighed it in his hand for a moment, nodded in satisfaction as if confirming its value, and said in a pleasant tone:

"Ah, that's right. This is just my ordinary wand. Thank you for keeping it safe for me, Severus."

Snape let out a disgruntled snort, turned his head away, and refused to look at the headmaster who was smiling like a cunning old fox.

At this moment, the cabin door was pushed open again, and others who had received the news arrived one after another.

Everyone who entered the room gasped in surprise when they saw Dumbledore standing under the lamplight.

"Dumbledore!"

"Albus! Merlin, you're awake!" "Headmaster!"

Hagrid's enormous figure squeezed in. Upon seeing Dumbledore, he let out a loud howl, his massive hands covering his face, tears and snot streaming down his face. He quickly pulled out a dirty handkerchief and blew his nose forcefully; Moody's magical eyes darted wildly, both wary and relieved; Emeryn Vance's eyes glistened with tears…

An incredible joy and excitement shone on everyone's face as they whispered among themselves. The atmosphere in the cabin instantly became warm and hopeful.

Dumbledore smiled and responded to everyone's greetings, calling their names as if he had just gone through a long sleep.

When most of the people had arrived, Professor McGonagall looked around, counting the number of people, her brows gradually furrowing: "Where's Mundungus? Why hasn't he arrived yet?"

Snape followed her gaze across the crowd and noticed another absent person. He tentatively added, "Mr. Green doesn't seem to be here either?"

Professor McGonagall's expression froze. She seemed flustered, her eyes darting around, and stammered, "Uh... well... I didn't ask the fairy to inform him..."

Dumbledore was listening to their conversation with curiosity, and when he heard the name "Mr. Green," he raised an eyebrow.

“Mr. Green? Oh, excuse me, who is he?” The headmaster looked at Professor McGonagall. “Why don’t you call him over?”

Standing not far away, Amylin immediately answered loudly, her tone full of admiration: "Professor Dumbledore! He's a very, very powerful wizard! We were only able to..." thanks to his help earlier.

“Emilyne!” Professor McGonagall interrupted her hastily, her expression even more uneasy. She turned to Dumbledore, her voice urgent, “Albus, this…it’s a long story, very complicated…I’ll tell you about it separately later, okay?”

Dumbledore glanced at Professor McGonagall's slightly embarrassed expression, then at Snape's expressionless face with some doubt. He didn't press further, but simply nodded thoughtfully and said tolerantly, "Of course, Minerva, we have plenty of time."

He cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him.

“Then we won’t wait for Tung.” His gaze slowly swept over every familiar face present, his voice carrying a comforting power, “It’s a pleasure to see you all here.”

"I am deeply moved that so many of you have stayed here and fought side by side during such a difficult time. I would like to express my deepest gratitude to you."

His words caused Hagrid to sob loudly again.

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, continuing, "I'm also very glad I was able to wake up. For this, I especially want to thank Severus for his superb potion-making skills; without him, I don't know if this old body of mine would still be standing here again. Oh, and by the way, Horace, far away in Hogwarts Castle, protecting the students who stayed behind..."

As the principal was speaking, the cabin door was knocked on again and then pushed open somewhat roughly.

Panting, with disheveled hair and reeking of smoke and alcohol, Mundungus burst in.

He pressed one hand to his heaving chest, pointed behind him with the other, and shouted impatiently, "M-Minerva! I caught her—I struggled so hard—"

His voice stopped abruptly because he saw the smiling, white-haired old man in the center of the crowd.

"Dumbledore!" Mundungus's eyes widened, his jaw almost dropped to his chest, and he let out a distorted exclamation.

However, Dumbledore did not look at Mundungus. His gaze, and that of everyone else in the cabin, passed over Mundungus and fell upon the trembling figures slowly entering from the shadows outside the door.

James and Sirius were both unusually pale, looking somewhat dazed, with tear stains still wet on their faces.

Upon seeing Dumbledore, the two immediately showed surprise and joy, but their expressions quickly turned into a complex mix of guilt and disappointment.

But what shocked everyone even more was the other figure that followed them in.

It was a towering figure that almost reached the cabin ceiling. He had to bend over deeply and lower his head to barely squeeze through the cabin door.

His body was covered with coarse, thick, grayish-brown hair, his muzzle was prominent, his fangs were slightly exposed, and his eyes gleamed with an amber light under the lamp.

This is a werewolf, a werewolf in disguise.

Even more shocking was that his furry wolf face and the large patch of fur on his chest were covered with half-dried, dark red bloodstains.

In stark contrast to his horrifying appearance and the bloodstains was his posture.

After entering the cabin, the tall werewolf kept his head down meekly, almost timidly, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He simply stood close to the wall, his huge hands clasped nervously, trying to suppress the faint, suppressed, whimper-like sounds that involuntarily escaped his throat, appearing unusually submissive, even humble.

This sudden and impactful scene plunged the entire captain's cabin into silence.

The wizards reacted almost reflexively the next second.

"Whoosh!"

A sound like a magic wand being drawn from a robe.

The crowd pointed their wands at the uninvited guest.

But when they saw that the werewolf had no intention of attacking, and was just standing there so docilely and even fearfully, with James and Sirius standing in front of him (even though they themselves were in terrible condition), the people who had raised their wands were confused and hesitant, unsure whether to put them down or keep them up.

Immediately afterwards, low, surprised conversations spread through the crowd.

"Merlin..."

"Werewolves? How could there be werewolves on the ship?!"

Is that blood on its face?

"Potter and Black brought it? What happened..."

Dumbledore raised his hand to quell the commotion inside the ballast tank.

All eyes were on James, Sirius, and the blood-covered werewolf, awaiting an explanation. (End of Chapter)