HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

The carriage rolled over the wet cobblestones and passed through a magnificent cast-iron gate—guarded by two Dementors.

The students who had been peeking out turned back and sat quietly in their seats.

As the carriage carrying West passed by, the two Dementors seemed startled and shrank into a corner.

The carriage finally came to a stop, swaying and rocking, after quite some time.

The group ascended the stone steps, passed through the massive wooden door, and entered the anteroom. The doors leading to the Great Hall were already open. West found Snape standing beside the doors, looking at him.

"West, come here," Snape called over the crowd. West was delighted, and the crowd parted to make way for him, allowing him to reach Snape.

"Severus," West whispered, his eyes never leaving the man.

"You're not allowed to call me by my given name at school," Snape warned, frowning. "Dumbledore wants to see you."

West was somewhat disappointed; it turned out it wasn't Snape who wanted to see him.

"Did the Dementors get on the train?" Snape asked, his voice icy.

"They even attacked me," West said pitifully. "Severus, Dementors are terrifying."

"...Dumbledore told me you killed a Dementor?" Snape was speechless.

Wisley grabbed Snape's sleeve, pretending not to hear him, "Darling, you don't care about me at all."

Snape looked down at him.

Vester is now about thirteen years old, half a head shorter than him, with delicate features and a small beauty mark under his eye. He stares wide-eyed with a pitiful look, which is very good at eliciting sympathy from others—provided that they have never seen what Vester looked like when he was seventeen or eighteen.

Snape knew perfectly well that West was good at playing the victim, but now he found himself uncontrollably feeling sorry for him.

Snape escorted West, who had been chattering incessantly the whole way, to the headmaster's office, without intending to accompany him inside.

"Severus, I'll come find you in a bit—" West called out anxiously. Snape didn't even turn his head; his black robes billowed as he hurried away.

As West entered the office, Fawkes the Phoenix stared at him and let out a few sharp bird calls. Dumbledore was already seated at his desk, waiting.

"Wester, you've finally decided to come see your old headmaster," Dumbledore said with a smile, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles narrowing into slits.

How could he not come? West thought speechlessly. They'd already sent Severus to fetch him.

West then noticed that Dumbledore looked much better, as if he had finally resolved a long-standing issue, his brows and eyes relaxed.

"What is it, Principal?" he asked with a forced smile.

Dumbledore didn't seem to mind West's attitude at all. "So, how are you feeling, West?"

"Very good," West said truthfully.

He reached out and traced the fine lines on his hand, revealing an astonishing reserve of magic hidden beneath his thin skin.

Dumbledore looked at him with a somewhat solemn expression, but then, as if remembering something, he relaxed with a sense of relief.

"Let's talk about Voldemort first—about destroying his Horcruxes." West got straight to the point.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then said, "I'm trying to find out where the Horcruxes are, but the problem is, we don't know how many he has."

"Harry, and that destroyed notebook, that makes two now," West pondered.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then said, "Perhaps one person knows—he was once Tom Riddle's Defence Against the Dark Arts professor…"

They chatted for a few more minutes, then Dumbledore, seeing that it was almost time, ended the conversation, saying, "Recently, Dementors have infiltrated Hogwarts. I hope you can protect the students to the best of your ability, West."

West chuckled. "Of course, Headmaster, but—" his eyes gleamed, "Give me a teaching assistant position, and I want that lounge next to the Severn's cellar."

Dumbledore blinked. "No problem."

Both of them smiled with satisfaction.

"Al, why isn't it ready yet? I want to eat." A young man poked his head out from the lounge. He frowned and asked with dissatisfaction.

West: "...Mr. Grindelwald." He forced a smile, his lips twitching.

"You little brat, don't take up too much of your principal's time, hurry up and get going!" Grindelwald yelled, as if his mind had been rejuvenated back to his youth.

"...You're getting on in years, stop taking those anti-aging pills. Every medicine has its side effects," West said sinisterly.

He and Severus haven't even started a relationship yet! He doesn't want to see Dumbledore and Grindelwald's twilight romance.

Dumbledore rubbed his temples in exasperation. "West, you should go back."

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. West quickly retreated.

He didn't return to the auditorium; instead, he went to the cellar.

The air in the cellar was filled with the bitter smell of herbs. Snape was brewing wolfsbane potion, his face gloomy.

"Severus?" West called softly, walking up to him. "Wolfsbane?"

He frowned. "Dumbledore asked you to make wolfsbane for Lupin?"

"How do you know he's a werewolf?" Snape looked at him in surprise.

"I have my ways," West said.

"Clearly, our great headmaster thinks it's perfectly safe to have werewolves teaching—just like when werewolves were allowed to enroll," Snape scoffed.

"Don't be angry, don't be angry," West reassured her. "I'll take care of it, Severus. You go and rest for a while."

Snape, without any hesitation, gave up his seat and tossed the brass spoon in his hand to West. "Admirable thoughtfulness, Mr. Somerset."

"My dear," West said, clutching his heart, "you finally understand how considerate I am."

Just as Snape was about to spray venom, West smiled slyly and changed the subject, "Isn't your improved Wolfsbane Potion lacking a test subject?"

Snape looked at him in surprise. "Lupin?" Being a test subject is no fun.

"I thought you'd appreciate this two-birds-with-one-stone plan, Severus." West shrugged, completing the final step of concocting the potion and packaging it. "He'll agree. If the experiment succeeds, he'll be eternally grateful to you."

Snape nodded, smiling with satisfaction. "Good idea. Our werewolf professor certainly needs some 'special attention.'"

"Severus, all done~" West put down the potion, walked to Snape's side, and his fingertips restlessly climbed up Snape's neck.

Snape was pondering how to get Lupin to willingly become a test subject when he suddenly felt the warmth of the boy's fingertips. He froze, gasped, and said, "Let go!"

West looks exactly like a thirteen-year-old boy, and he's still his student—this is too taboo!

Snape took a few steps back, looking at West warily. "It's getting late, you can go back to your dorm now."

West withdrew his hand innocently. "Severus, can I sleep with you?"

Snape's lips twitched. "What do you think?"

"Okay, Severus, goodnight."

After the boy left the cellar, Snape stood frozen in place, responding a beat late, "...Goodnight."

The next morning, Snape opened the cellar door and found West already dressed, leaning against the door watching him.

"Severus, what a coincidence." West grinned.

Snape: "..."