"However," Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with mischief, "I do have some good news I can share with you."
"Have you found clues to another Horcrux?" Snape leaned forward slightly, asking warily.
Had the Headmaster already discovered the ring's existence? If so, he'd have to keep a very close eye on Dumbledore.
"No, it's another piece of good news," Dumbledore said, waving a hand gently, his voice slow and deliberate. "The new **Defense Against the Dark Arts** teacher for next academic year has finally been found."
"That's *barely* good news," Snape couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "After all this time, with a new teacher every year, it's a wonder you can still find anyone willing to take the position."
"Indeed, I've troubled many old friends over the years," Dumbledore sighed, pulling a letter from the stack of parchments on his desk. "For their safety, I always ensure they resign, whether voluntarily or not, before the school year ends.
"So, **Professor Graplan** will be leaving Hogwarts in a few months," Dumbledore shrugged helplessly, then gestured for Snape to read the letter. "She's not even willing to wait until your exams are over."
Snape picked up the letter, unfolded the parchment, and found it was a letter from **Abraxas Malfoy** to Dumbledore.
Abraxas was **Lucius Malfoy's** father, meaning the grandfather of the yet-to-be-born **Draco**.
In the letter, old Malfoy strongly condemned Dumbledore's educational policies and the recently held **Duelling Club** competitions.
Mr. Malfoy senior declared:
"No one would believe that allowing pure-blood wizards to compete on the same stage as Muggle-born wizards is an act of justice and fairness.
"If any Muggle-born wizard, by despicable means or sneaky tricks, were to accidentally defeat a pure-blood wizard, it would only bring defilement and shame upon the entire wizarding world.
"It must be emphasized that, from the very beginning, I believe they should not exist within this school at all.
"I, Abraxas Malfoy, have submitted an application to the Board of Governors to serve as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the next academic year..."
Snape finished reading, a strange, peculiar expression on his face. "Why is someone rushing to their doom?"
"Indeed, I thought the same," a meaningful smile appeared on Dumbledore's face. "I suspect he may fancy himself Voldemort's most capable Death Eater. Mr. Malfoy might naively believe that Tom's curse would spare his servants.
"I accepted Mr. Malfoy's request without hesitation; he truly had no need to pressure me through the Board."
"That is certainly good news, Professor," Snape nodded in agreement. "The fewer of those old fools, the better. They should have been cast aside by time long ago."
"Your thoughts are still too extreme, Severus," Dumbledore said.
"What else can they be?" Snape gave a faint smile. "Someone always has to pay the price, so why shouldn't it be them?"
"By the way, Professor," Snape suddenly said, as if something had just occurred to him. "I can offer you a lead. Perhaps you could investigate the previous generation of the **Gaunt** family. Of course, as usual, I'd like to go with you."
He decided he still needed to maintain control, otherwise constantly being on edge wouldn't do.
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore's voice was gentle, his eyes full of satisfaction. "I already have some inklings. Many years ago, a Ministry of Magic official named **Bob Ogden** encountered members of the Gaunt family during a mission.
"Since you're still interested, let's visit Mr. Ogden together next weekend."
Snape secretly congratulated himself. It was a good thing he spoke up; Dumbledore's efficiency truly matched his power.
---
The next day was the day for visiting **Hogsmeade**.
The sun finally pierced through the thick clouds, casting its light on the path to Hogsmeade. However, the temperature remained low, and a biting wind still blew.
Barty Jr. joined Snape's group directly. Now, he couldn't, and didn't need to, attend the Walpurgis meetings anymore.
This time, Snape had sent a message by owl to **Madam Rosmerta** at **The Three Broomsticks** in advance, reserving a large table.
As they pushed open the wooden door of The Three Broomsticks, a warm, inviting blast of air, mingled with the sweet scent of **butterbeer**, wafted over them. They quickly ducked inside, escaping the cold wind.
They had barely been seated for two minutes when Madam Rosmerta, swaying her hips, walked over to them from the bar.
In her hands, she carried several bottles of butterbeer and a bottle of wine, her sparkling black high heels clicking crisply on the floor.
Today, Madam Rosmerta wore a sky-blue, lace-trimmed headscarf, which made her skin appear even fairer.
"Thank you, Madam," Snape's gaze followed her. "Why did you bring it over? We were just about to come get it."
"Happy birthday, **Abbott**," Madam Rosmerta said, smiling faintly with narrowed eyes. "Severus told me to save a table for you; he said they were celebrating your birthday."
"Oh!" Snape couldn't help but exclaim, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Madam, we were trying to surprise him!"
"And me personally delivering your drinks isn't a surprise?" Madam Rosmerta chided, giving Snape an exasperated look and a teasing laugh. "This bottle of wine is an extra gift for you, Abbott. I hope you like it."
"This is such a wonderful surprise!" Abbott's face flushed slightly, looking happily at the wine on the table. "I love it, thank you, Madam!"
"Wait," Snape suddenly remembered the bottles of wine he had taken from the Hogwarts kitchens earlier, wine brewed by house-elves stomping grapes. "Madam, was this wine brewed by house-elves?"
"No, I brewed it myself," Madam Rosmerta said, looking at Snape with confusion. "Why are you asking such a strange question? Does it matter who brewed it?"
"How did you brew it?" Snape instinctively asked.
"With magic, of course," Madam Rosmerta said, already picking up her tray, preparing to return to the bar. "I really don't understand what you're thinking, Severus."
"Oh, right," Snape said, feeling a strange, small sense of disappointment.
---