With a legacy spanning a thousand years, the ancient castle, having weathered the vicissitudes of history, still emanates a mysterious magic amidst the swirling snow. During the Christmas holiday, Hogwarts is significantly quieter than usual.

Inside the vast castle, apart from the whispers of the figures in the portraits hanging along the narrow corridors and the clattering sounds of the suits of armor, the only interruption to the castle's tranquility is the sharp, piercing song of the Fat Lady.

Severus Snape's brisk stride makes his robe billow like a fluttering cloak, and he appears like a large bat running on foot with its wings spread open. The grimness on his face and his pale lips reveal that his mood is quite terrible at the moment.

"Ice-cold lemonade."

The ugly stone monster quickly jumps aside upon hearing the correct password, even appearing a bit flustered, as if it too fears something.

Snape strides through the cracked wall, and the moment he enters the circular office hidden behind it, his mood inexplicably worsens even further.

The greatest wizard of contemporary times, Albus Dumbledore, leans back in his chair, his deep blue gaze penetrating the high dome of the office from behind a crescent-shaped frame. His long fingers are crossed on a narrow-legged desk cluttered with bizarre alchemical tools and piles of letters waiting to be answered.

"Where have you been?"

Snape glances at Dumbledore's still-unremoved purple travel cloak, his tone crisp and straightforward.

"I was just taking a walk," Dumbledore replies, pulling back his profound gaze with a gentle smile. "You know, Severus, for an old man like me, keeping up with some light exercise is very necessary."

"Indeed," Snape replies with a faint hint of mockery, "Have you been wandering for several days?"

Snape's reaction is predictable, and Dumbledore chuckles lightly, unfazed. "How is Miss Granger doing?"

"Fairly stable. Pomfrey has dealt with her issue correctly; with a few weeks of rest, she should return to normal."

Snape's tone is stiff, but he answers the question honestly. However, when he sees Dumbledore's look of relief and prepares to move past the topic, he can no longer contain his anger.

"I think you should be well aware of what those self-important Gryffindors have done. They brewed Polyjuice Potion in secret and brazenly broke into my office to steal materials. Dumbledore, when did this school become so lenient? How can violating school rules and stealing from a professor be tolerated?"

"Despicable behavior is never allowed,"

Snape’s persistence seems to weary the travel-worn Dumbledore, who removes his glasses and rubs his temples.

"But we should observe people's actions to understand their motives, thus judging whether their hearts are equally despicable. Severus, I don’t believe that Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger's investigation into the truth of the attack can be considered vile."

"So you plan to keep letting them go, even if he might encounter danger due to his reckless behavior?"

For some reason, Snape's face appears paler in the warm firelight. Though he does not name who 'he' is, Snape is certain that Dumbledore understands.

The office falls silent, interrupted only by the faint snoring of past headmasters from a row of portraits on the wall and the soft but clear chirping of Fawkes.

"It’s not letting go, Severus, it’s observing,"

After a moment of silence, Dumbledore speaks again, though his tone lacks the usual quiet confidence.

"Indeed, the line between courage and recklessness is sometimes not so clear, but when dealing with young people, we should be more tolerant, Severus. This way, we can avoid stifling their innate strengths."

"Tolerant?"

Snape's lips twitch, reluctant but unable to suppress memories of his own time at this school.

"Don’t flatter yourself, Headmaster Dumbledore. You have always only tolerated students you admire."

Snape entirely transfers his hatred for James Potter and his affection for Lily Evans onto Harry, wanting to protect the son of the woman he loved while also enduring the fact that this child resembles his father so much, twisting Snape's emotions profoundly.

"Let’s end this topic, Severus,"

Since Harry Potter entered this school, such conversations have happened countless times privately, and even Dumbledore feels very helpless about it.

"Could you please go to the school gate to greet a guest for me?"

Dumbledore stands up, noting that his attire is not suitable for receiving guests.

"Actually, this task was supposed to be assigned to Minerva, but unfortunately, she accepted an invitation from the 'Today's Transfiguration' editorial team to attend a conference about Transfiguration. It’s a rare opportunity for her to relax, and I would prefer not to disturb her."

Snape is uninterested in Dumbledore’s private meeting; he turns and strides away, his expression worse than when he entered the office due to the memories bouncing in his mind.

But strangely, just before leaving the office, he suddenly pauses, turning back to look at Dumbledore, who is using his wand to clean the mud off the hem of his robe, his voice filled with suspicion.

"Who are you meeting?"

"Ah—actually, I planned to let you know about this surprise at the school gate, but since you asked,"

Dumbledore smiles, and the difficult-to-read light in his blue eyes sparkles once again.

"Amosta Blain, the student you have admired most in recent years."

................

December 31st, 7:40 PM.

Amosta, arriving on the express train, strides over a long stretch of snow-covered path and appears punctually outside the great iron gates of Hogwarts.

The two statues of winged wild boars at the school entrance have stood guard over this great magical school for a millennium. Amosta's nostalgic gaze crosses the iron gate, soaring over the playground adorned with six tall poles and the shadowy ancient castle on the cliff's edge until it disappears into the boundless Forbidden Forest.

One must admit that returning here feels even better than imagined.

"I had guessed even before getting on the train that you would be the one to greet me, Professor."

The rusted door creaks open slowly, and Amosta steps through the gate, meeting the approaching shadow. When Severus Snape's expressionless face is revealed in the dim light, Amosta sets down his suitcase and opens his arms with a sincere smile.

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