The gentle April days slipped away quietly, and signs of summer began to subtly emerge across the Hogwarts grounds.
At dusk, the breeze weaving through the castle's towers turned warm and languid. The setting sun cast a honeyed glow over the Black Lake, where clusters of giant squid stretched their tentacles in the shallows, sending ripples across the surface.
During the Apparition exams at the end of April, Severus Snape and Pandora passed with flying colors. Patrick Abbott, however, fumbled badly under pressure, Apparating directly onto the head of the unfortunate examiner, Wilkie Twycross. In his panic, Patrick even yanked out a few of the examiner's sparse remaining hairs.
Though he failed the test, Patrick harbored no resentment toward Twycross. Quite the opposite—he was consumed with guilt.
"Merlin's beard," Patrick muttered repeatedly, "you didn't see the look on his face. He was clutching those few hairs, trembling…"
One afternoon after Charms class, Professor Flitwick relayed a message from Dumbledore, asking Snape to visit the Headmaster's office after dinner.
"Good evening, Professor," Snape said, gently pushing open the oak door. "What did you need me for this time?"
"Good evening, Severus," Dumbledore replied kindly. "I have a small matter where I could use your assistance. I'd like to access the Room of Requirement. Could you help me open the door?"
"Er…" Snape scratched his head, a touch embarrassed. He and his friends had been using that magical room for quite some time, though most students were unaware of its existence. "Professor, how about I get you a couple of chamber pots? It's normal for older folks to need them at night. No need to worry too much."
"Quiet, lad," Dumbledore said with a good-natured glare, rising from behind his desk. "Follow me."
The two made their way down the corridor until they reached the entrance to the Room of Requirement.
Under Dumbledore's resolute gaze, Snape had no choice but to summon Moaning Myrtle with the secret signal.
After a familiar rustle, the door materialized on the wall and slowly swung open.
Dumbledore followed Snape into the Room of Requirement.
"Headmaster, what are you doing here?" Moaning Myrtle asked, startled.
Dumbledore greeted her with a warm smile.
Noticing Myrtle and the peculiar mechanism for opening the door, he let out a soft exclamation of admiration.
"Clever design," he remarked. "This way, no one can disturb you."
"But now," he continued, "I need the room for something else. Myrtle, would you mind stepping outside with us for a moment?"
Myrtle glanced at Snape, uncertain.
"We'll head out," Snape said to her gently, nodding. "Go wander for a bit, and you can find me later."
Once the Room of Requirement was empty again, Dumbledore paced back and forth three times in the corridor.
With his steps, the vanished door reappeared.
Pushing it open, Snape found they had entered the vast room where Hogwarts staff and students hid their belongings.
"Professor, are you here to hide something or find something?" he asked.
Dumbledore didn't answer, weaving through towering stacks of miscellaneous items. Snape followed closely until they stopped in front of a pile of broken desks and chairs.
With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, a mirror stretching to the ceiling materialized before them.
The mirror was magnificent, framed in ornate gold with claw-shaped feet supporting it. At the top, an inscription of cryptic words was carved.
The Mirror of Erised, Snape thought to himself.
"Would you like to take a look, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, turning to him with a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "This is a magical mirror."
"Sure," Snape replied, his curiosity piqued. He wondered what he might see in it. "Why not?"
He stepped closer to the Mirror of Erised, stood before it, and held his breath as he gazed into its surface.
To his surprise, the mirror showed only his own calm reflection. Nothing more.
"What do you see in the mirror?" Dumbledore asked.
"I see myself holding a pair of thick woolen socks," Snape answered without missing a beat, his face impassive.
Dumbledore froze, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"You know, Professor," Snape said, stepping away from the mirror with no lingering attachment, his tone matter-of-fact, "one can never have enough socks."
"You're impossible," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. He moved to where Snape had stood, gazing silently偶
System: quietly into the Mirror of Erised.
The reflection remained unchanged, showing only his calm face. But Dumbledore's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes.
"You're not going to give me a straight answer, are you?" Dumbledore said with a wry smile, stepping forward to take his own turn before the mirror.
He stood there, motionless, his face devoid of expression.
Snape settled onto an old desk nearby, waiting in silence. The room was so quiet that only their soft breathing could be heard.
After a moment, Dumbledore spoke. "Alright, Severus," he said, turning away from the mirror. "We can go now."
"Professor, may I ask you something?" Snape said, sliding off the desk and standing upright.
"You're already asking me a question," Dumbledore replied with a gentle smile. "But go ahead, you may ask another."
"I won't ask what you saw in the mirror," Snape said, glancing up at the inscription on the frame. He reversed the letters in his mind and murmured softly, "I show not your face but your heart's desire."
"Oh," Dumbledore said, a touch of surprise in his voice. "It seems you've figured out what this mirror does."
"Yes," Snape said quietly. "It's been a long time since you last saw it, hasn't it, Professor? Do you miss it?"
"A little, perhaps," Dumbledore said with a faint smile. "It has been many years."
Snape stepped back to the mirror, glancing once more at his reflection. He turned to Dumbledore. "Professor, what do you think matters most to someone your age?"
"That's your third question, Severus," Dumbledore noted. "But I'll answer. I believe it's family."
"Then will you seek the Resurrection Stone?" Snape pressed, his eyes sharp with curiosity.
He watched Dumbledore closely, not wanting to miss the slightest change in his expression.
"Not now," Dumbledore said evenly.
"Would you like to take the mirror with you?"
"Let's go."
With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore made the Mirror of Erised vanish. Without looking back, he walked toward the entrance of the Room of Requirement.
In the dim light, his tall figure seemed somehow solitary.
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