HP's Lost and the Lighthouse

Snape walked blankly through the corridors, the keys in his hands clinking and clinking with the ups and downs of his steps.There are occasional portraits of people grunting disapprovingly because their sleep has been disturbed, but no one cares.

The wind that came from nowhere in the castle fluttered around the man in black robe, lifting his obedient robe hanging behind him.

The man's unconscious footsteps stopped at the door of the faculty lounge.The wooden door stood there quietly, not very tall and spacious, but it seemed to have a different kind of temptation.

Snape stepped forward and pushed the door open.

Without success, the door was locked.

He stared blankly at the locked door for a long time, did not try to open it with the key in his hand, but sighed lowly.For a moment, his shoulders slumped and his back became bent, as if he had been crushed by some invisible force.But soon, the man wiped his face with his hand, stood up straight again, and left the door without looking back.

His footsteps made a rattling sound in the empty corridor, and the robe behind him rolled like waves with his steps.

Snape was standing in front of the headmaster's office.The somewhat weird stone beast was still squatting there, as if it had become a symbol.He suddenly thought of Umbridge, who had been the headmaster for a short time but was rejected by the headmaster's office, and couldn't help but smile a little self-deprecatingly.

Dumbledore was dead, and the stone beast without a master took the initiative to make way for him, the new headmaster, as if silently welcoming him.

He pushed open the door of the principal's office.

"Severus, here you come."

An extremely familiar voice.Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk waiting for Snape's appointment while Snape felt as if nothing had happened.He looked up and saw the huge portrait hanging directly behind the desk.Dumbledore smiled at him, his bright blue eyes looking forgiving and wise, just as they had been when the old man was alive.

His throat suddenly seemed to be blocked by something, and he couldn't make a sound after opening his mouth several times.Dumbledore in the portrait smiled understandingly, waiting for the young man to recover from his emotions.

"Don't feel sorry for me, Severus," he said. "Death is a process that everyone goes through, and I've lived long enough."

……

The sunlight entering the room from the window became dim.Snape stopped his narration and pursed his dry lips.Dumbledore sat in his picture frame, his eyes downcast on his fingertips, pondering what Snape had said.

The other headmasters kept quiet as they talked, watching Snape with kindness - except for Snape himself, the portraits in the headmaster's office were probably the only ones who knew the truth.

At this time, taking advantage of this moment of silence, Dai Lisi—she was a lady with long silver curly hair, looked at Snape, and said in an old but peaceful voice: "You are a very strong person, Children, even more than most of us."

Snape turned to look at her in astonishment.In his impression, these portraits never take the initiative to say anything, and they usually close their eyes and pretend to be asleep.

"Thank you," he whispered.

As if seeing the doubts of the new headmaster, the lady looked at him softly, with a kindness unique to the elderly: "We serve the headmaster of Hogwarts, sir. I just think You need some encouragement at this point."

Phineas on the side held his head up, muttering in agreement: "It's a pity that the Black family didn't have such a Slytherin, but this character is quite enough..."

Dumbledore raised his eyes: "Thank you, Phineas, Dai Lisi." He smiled slightly, and turned his head to Snape.

"What do you think about the transfer of Harry from Privet Drive, Severus?"

Snape was silent for a moment.He thought that Dumbledore would speak his judgment directly - he was used to this, and it was enough to just follow the old man's instructions... and not need to worry about anything else.

"Tell me what you think, Severus." Those blue eyes looked at him.

"The Dark Lord wanted me to find out exactly when Potter left the house," he said. "I'm not sure—"

Dumbledore in the portrait returned an encouraging look to Snape, who neither offered nor expressed dissent, just watched him.

"He thinks I should have my own channel to get news from within the Order of the Phoenix, like an Imperius Curse or something... that way, even if I'm a—" He slipped the two 'traitors' on his lips Swallowing the words, he frowned, "I can also provide him with information."

"Yes, I think so," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "Obviously Voldemort thinks you're his kind—I bet he would." Feel a little uncomfortable.

"Oh, Severus, take it easy," said Dumbledore, noting his expression, "we all know how different you are from him - I'm generally more convinced that my views are correct .”

"But since he thinks so," the former Headmaster went on, "you must tell Voldemort the exact date Harry will leave his aunt and uncle's house." He gestured to prevent Snape from interrupting him.

"Voldemort thinks you're well-informed, and you'll be suspicious if you don't," he said, looking away again, musing. "However, you'll need to instill the idea of ​​using a substitute—I think that should ensure Harry's safety. Try Confuse on Mundungus Fletcher. And, Severus, if you have to join the chase, be convincing... I'm counting on you to keep getting Voldemort's Trust me, the longer the better, otherwise, Hogwarts will be at the mercy of the Carlo brothers..."

"But—" said Snape reluctantly, "the Dark Lord has great confidence in me—for I gave your life with my own hands—even if I don't join in the chase..."

Dumbledore interrupted him: "He'll be suspicious, you and I both know that. Why kid yourself, Severus? I'm afraid he was already wondering when you refused to join in the Death Eater fun— —Of course, I'm not saying it's wrong to say no to those."

The man stood there with his lips pursed in refusal, still wanting to argue.

"Can--"

"War, Severus," said Dumbledore. "It's war now, just like it was more than ten years ago. In any war, sacrifices are inevitable." His blue eyes looked at the black robe in front of him sadly. The young man, for a long time, closed his eyes and refused to continue talking.

The author has something to say:

My little fool is so miserable, 15551 feels sorry for him