Chapter 146: Fosco's daughter is so beautiful
"Huh, even the ice cream shop has my wanted poster up."
Dylan's lip curled slightly.
He didn't pay it much mind, though. Last time, Fortescue mentioned his daughter was at the Ministry of Magic.
So, it was understandable for him to post a wanted poster in his shop to support his daughter.
Walking in, Dylan heard a faint argument from the back, a man and a woman's voices.
"What's going on?"
Dylan raised an eyebrow, cleared his throat softly, then called out, "Uncle Fortescue, are you in the shop?"
Immediately, the arguing stopped.
A moment later, the door to the back swung gently open, and Fortescue poked his head out, looking a bit like a ghost who had just slipped out of a secret passage.
Seeing Dylan, he was startled for a moment, then broke into a warm smile, repeatedly saying, "Is Christmas break here already? Go find a comfortable seat, I'll be right there."
With that, Fortescue hastily retreated, lowering his voice to murmur something to the other person inside.
Not long after, the doorknob of the back door slowly turned, and Fortescue emerged, followed closely by a young woman.
She wore the black uniform of an Auror, her brown hair falling over her shoulders, the ends slightly curled inward. Her figure was slender but perfectly curved, with a black belt cinched at her waist, from which hung a wand holster, a small magical alarm, and portable potion vials.
Dylan looked at her. Her cheeks were fair, and she had bright, clear light-blue eyes that moved with a cool, detached air. Her nose was high, and her pink lips were lightly pressed together.
As she stepped out, her mouth was slightly downturned, her expression indifferent, yet carrying a hint of stubbornness.
This was...
"Let me introduce you, my daughter – Vera Clementina Fortescue." Fortescue smiled, looking at Dylan.
Vera?
Dylan suddenly remembered a name he'd heard when listening to those Aurors chat last time. It seemed Vera was the one who had caught Delphi.
What a coincidence, Vera was actually Fortescue's daughter?
Fortescue's daughter, who was casually dealt with by Voldemort, ended up catching Voldemort's daughter?
"Hello, I'm Dylan Hawkwood, currently studying at Hogwarts."
Vera's light-blue gaze shifted slightly, falling on Dylan. After a moment, she suddenly smiled softly, "Hello, little junior. Correction, my name is Vera Clementina."
Fortescue looked helpless. "Hey! Vera, I don't want to argue with you."
When Vera's gaze flickered to Fortescue, her expression became cold again. "Don't even think about changing my surname."
Fortescue's mouth twitched, then he sighed deeply. "You're always like this, smiling so beautifully at outsiders, but giving me a cold face."
Vera remained silent, not speaking again.
Seeing this, Fortescue shook his head and turned back to Dylan. "My daughter just came to my shop to put up a wanted poster – the one on the counter."
Fortescue gestured with his chin.
Dylan nodded slightly, indicating he had seen it.
"I rarely get to see my daughter, so I just wanted to chat with her a bit more..."
"Excuse me, Mr. Fortescue, I don't think we have much to talk about. You're already delaying my work."
Hearing this, Fortescue frowned in annoyance. "Tomorrow's Christmas, and today's a holiday. What work do you have?"
Vera froze, pressing her lips together. Clearly—
Work was just an excuse for her not to see her old father.
Dylan paused.
The situation was a bit unexpected.
Firstly, he hadn't expected Fortescue's daughter to be so beautiful.
Secondly, the father and daughter were arguing right now. Was it really appropriate for him to stay?
"Uncle, I just came to check on you. You sponsored me with so many Galleons last time, which helped me a lot. Now that your daughter is here, maybe I should just..."
Dylan's words were cut off by Vera. "He sponsored your schooling?"
Dylan blinked, then nodded gently. "Yes, Mr. Fortescue is a very generous and kind wizard."
Vera's gaze shifted, sweeping over Fortescue with some suspicion.
Fortescue hadn't expected Dylan to suddenly bring this up, but upon sensing his daughter's gaze, he immediately puffed out his chest discreetly, then secretly winked at Dylan.
Good job, kid! It was worth all those ice cream sundaes I gave away! "Hmph, anyway, the job's done. I'm going back." Vera lifted her foot to leave.
Fortescue raised a hand, but didn't know what to say.
Dylan, however, spoke up, "Sister Vera, is there some disagreement between you and Mr. Fortescue? Last time I visited, he mentioned you and only had praise. I think he must love you very much."
"Mr. Fortescue even said he sponsored me because his daughter didn't want any of his money, so he thought it better to sponsor someone in need instead of keeping it for himself."
"Sister Vera, if there's something between family, perhaps you can talk it out?"
Vera glanced at the little kid. "You don't understand."
Dylan smiled slightly. "Precisely because I don't understand, I need you to explain, Sister."
Vera paused, her outstretched foot slowly retreating. "Little junior, I've heard of you. Professor Flitwick is very fond of you."
Dylan tilted his head.
"Sister Vera, did you graduate from Ravenclaw?"
"That's right. I still keep in touch with Professor Flitwick."
Vera's light-blue gaze fell upon Dylan.
"You're so young, and you're already playing peacemaker?"
Dylan froze, then shyly pursed his lips. "Actually, we're only eight years apart, and what I said is all true."
"You little rascal."
Seeing her attitude soften, Dylan tried to probe for information. "Sister Vera, when I came to Diagon Alley last time, I happened to see you arresting people. What did they do?"
Vera's brown hair was a bit more golden. Hearing Dylan's question, her delicate brows furrowed slightly, and a hint of confusion appeared on her small face. "Why do you ask?"
Dylan put on an innocent, childlike smile. "Because when I came to Diagon Alley before, I happened to see Aurors arresting people, and then I ran into it again this time. I'm starting to wonder if you're trying to arrest me."
Fortescue laughed heartily nearby. "Yes, that Kael'thas appeared twice, both times when Dylan came to my shop for ice cream."
"Oh? What a coincidence?" Vera raised an eyebrow, then shook her head. "Diagon Alley is pretty safe. As long as you don't go to Knockturn Alley, you generally won't encounter any dangerous individuals."
Dylan nodded obediently. "I know that, the professors reminded me."
Vera sighed with a frown. "Although it's Christmas, the Ministry of Magic requires all Aurors to shorten their holidays as much as possible to search for Kael'thas."
As she spoke, a hint of worry appeared on her face. "That person is very dangerous, and seems to have mastered the Unforgivable Curses. He's absolutely deranged, using Imperius and Cruciatus curses without hesitation; he's practically a lunatic!"
"If he's left out there, who knows what else he'll do. The Ministry doesn't want to see a second..."
"Vera!" Fortescue frowned.
Vera's words halted, and she glared sideways at her father.
"Anyway, I've delivered my message. Pay attention recently, do you hear me?"
Vera's tone towards Fortescue was always stiff.
However, Dylan still detected a daughter's concern for her father.
He wondered what had caused the rift between them. Last time he heard Fortescue talk, he didn't pick up anything specific.
Dylan guessed that perhaps Fortescue hadn't handled his emotional issues well, and after separating from Vera's mother, Vera was raised by her mother. For various reasons, she might have grown estranged and annoyed with her father, whom she rarely saw.
Of course, that "annoyed" should be put in double quotes; besides being annoyed, there might also be a hint of "annoyed~" meaning.
She's a young girl, raised by her mother alone, and at an age when competitiveness and rebelliousness are strong. It's normal for her to be a bit tsundere towards her father.
But this wasn't Dylan's family business, and Dylan wouldn't interfere excessively.
What Dylan had just said was already quite presumptuous.
Fortunately, Vera was also a student of Professor Flitwick, so they had a connection.
And he was young, so his words probably wouldn't make her too annoyed.
"Don't worry, I know. If I can't beat them, can't I at least hide?" Fortescue chuckled.
"Who knows if you'll just inexplicably rush in; you're always so crazy." Vera pouted her pink lips slightly. "Alright, I'm going to the next shop to put up wanted posters."
Vera once again stepped forward, walked to the shop door, and grasped the doorknob.
Fortescue's expression dimmed as he watched his daughter's retreating back. His throat felt choked, and he opened his mouth, but the words of retention ultimately couldn't be spoken.
Ding-a-ling~
Vera pushed the shop door half-open, one foot already outside.
At this moment, she paused again, turned her head slightly, lifted her chin, and deliberately pouted, her tone still full of disdain.
"This Christmas, you'll be spending it alone again, won't you? Or are you going to bother Uncle Ollivander?"
"Hmph, stop bothering him. Since tonight is Christmas Eve, you should make more food."
"But I might not have time to eat it! Only when I'm done with my work, and if I'm in a good mood, will I consider coming over!"
With those words, before Fortescue could react, Vera pushed open the door and slipped out.
Fortescue stood rooted to the spot, his gaze blank.
Dylan, meanwhile, chuckled. "Uncle, it's getting late. If you plan to cook for Sister Vera yourself, you should probably start preparing now."
Fortescue was stunned for a moment, then slowly came to his senses, his lips curving upward uncontrollably, unable to hide the smile on his face.
He turned to Dylan, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling.
"Hahahaha, you're right! Son, I'm so glad I sponsored you ten thousand Galleons back then!"
"I'm sure Vera knows I'm not a stingy person, that's why she's willing to spend Christmas Eve with me!"
"Oh, look how happy I am. I have to close the shop now, I'm so sorry, I won't be able to entertain you. There's ice cream over there, help yourself if you want some, don't be shy, I need to go buy some things."
Fortescue hurried off, happily spinning in place.
"I need to put something here, and something there, oh dear, it's been so long since I decorated the house for Christmas! I've almost forgotten how to do it!"
Seeing this, Dylan smiled and waved. "I won't eat anything, Uncle Fortescue, you go on and get busy."
Fortescue, his face beaming, walked out with Dylan and flipped the "Open" sign to "Closed."
After they said goodbye, he rushed off to do his shopping.
Dylan stood alone at the entrance of the ice cream parlor, his feet casually crossed, watching Fortescue's retreating figure. One hand was idly tucked in his pocket, and he tilted his head slightly, gazing up at the sky.
At this moment, it was dusk. The setting sun looked like a colossal salted duck egg yolk, its oil oozing out, staining the entire sky orange-red.
Along the streets of Diagon Alley, the buildings were draped in a golden veil by the lingering glow.
Occasionally, a few clouds drifted lazily by, looking like colors randomly brushed onto a canvas by a painter.
Dylan felt the cool evening breeze brush against his face. He slowly walked towards the exit of Diagon Alley, his figure gradually dissipating.
At half past five in the afternoon.
The majestic gates of Gringotts slowly closed, ending business for the day.
The old goblin finished counting the day's accounts, then carefully stored important magical contracts and valuable items one by one before leaving Gringotts through a side door.
It was Christmas Eve, and there was hardly anyone walking along Diagon Alley, only a few scattered Aurors occasionally hurrying past, likely rushing home.
The old goblin left late, and by the time he reached the Diagon Alley Floo, no one else was around.
He pulled out a handful of powder, ready to toss it into the fireplace.
Without warning, a spell struck him from behind.
Before the old goblin could react, he felt his vision go black, then he uncontrollably flopped to the ground with a thump.
The next moment, the old goblin's clothes seemed to move on their own. The hem, the cuffs, rustled as if tugged by an invisible hand.
Finally, a bulging money bag slowly floated up from the lining of the old goblin's suit jacket, suspended in mid-air.
Soon, the bag's opening automatically loosened, and gold coins, like a golden stream, poured out with a clatter, one after another, continuously merging into the invisible void beside it.
In a blink of an eye, all the gold coins were emptied. The money bag flew in mid-air for a while, then was dropped back onto the old goblin.
Then, the old goblin's body trembled, and he stirred slightly.
Upon seeing his empty money bag, a wailing cry echoed almost through the entire Diagon Alley.
"I can't believe there were over three hundred thousand! Do goblins like to keep cash on them?"
On the way home.
Dylan glanced at his gold balance.
It had directly surged by over three hundred thousand!
He resisted the urge to convert this Galleon sum into suitcase space.
He headed straight home.
After all, it was Christmas Eve, and everyone was home for the holidays. He should at least spend some time at home. In his twelve years of life, only last year had he not spent Christmas with his family.
Even though Dylan had been constantly immersed in studying knowledge and researching spells lately, it didn't mean he had no affection for his family in this life.
It was just that since his soul was that of an adult, this affection could be suppressed to some extent.
And he was usually so busy, so the affection could always be hidden in his heart.
Dylan always possessed the characteristic of not fearing others detecting his magical achievements. Therefore, while other young wizards couldn't use magic outside, for him, as long as no one else was watching, he didn't worry.
Wearing the Shadow Ring, Dylan flew on his broomstick, heading towards his home.
Along the streets at night, streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow, illuminating Dylan's path home.
Finally, when the familiar front door appeared, Dylan flew to a corner, slowly emerged, and dispelled the effect of the Shadow Ring.
"Mommy, I'm home~"
Dylan pushed open the front door. A warm atmosphere, accompanied by the rich aroma of food, enveloped him entirely.
Maeve heard the movement and poked her head out from the kitchen. Upon seeing Dylan, a smile immediately bloomed on her face.
She quickly walked out of the kitchen, reached out to take Dylan's coat, and murmured, "It's this late, I thought you weren't coming back. Dinner's almost ready, quickly wash your hands and prepare to eat."
Dylan nodded gently, washed his hands in the bathroom, then wiped them dry with a towel.
Walking into the dining room, the table was laden with many dishes, each looking, smelling, and tasting perfect.
An elegant candlestick stood in the center of the dining table, its flickering candlelight dancing softly. Hubert was already seated at the table.
Seeing his son return, he also chuckled happily.
"How was it, son? Do you still have enough money to spend?"
In the past few months, he had transferred several million pounds to Dylan!
Who else's child, going to school for a year or two—no, just three or four months—had their family spend millions? That's equivalent to one or two million a month! But Hubert didn't think this money was a lot; in fact, he was very proud.
He was a father; wasn't the money he earned meant to be spent on his wife and son? No, that's not quite right, he couldn't just say son. What if they had a daughter later? —As a father, how could he not spend money on his children? The more he spent, the more capable he was!
—Although it was all at his son's suggestion.
But what was his was his son's, and what was his son's was his, right? No distinction, no distinction~ Dylan nodded gently. "Just enough for now. I mean for this phase. After the holidays, there will be more expenses, so I'll be completely relying on you, Dad, to transfer money to me then."
Hubert's smile stiffened.
Huh, what?
What?! Millions of pounds aren't enough, and he needs more? Did he give birth to a son?
Could it be that he gave birth to a gold-devouring beast?? Hubert swallowed hard.
Maeve saw her husband's expression, rolled her beautiful eyes, and glared. "Look at you, so proud. Why aren't you proud now? After the holidays, you hurry up and go make more money. You can't shortchange our precious baby's pocket money!"
Hubert wailed, "Is that 'pocket money'?!"
Dylan chuckled, "I know my dad is the most capable person! Just a few million pounds, isn't that easy for you?"
Praised by Dylan's flattery, Hubert couldn't stop his lips from curving upward again.
"Of course! Son, you just spend as much as you want, your dad can afford you!"
"Thanks, Dad~"
Dylan smiled.
Maeve placed the last dish on the table.
The family gathered to eat. Hubert initially put on airs, acting profound for a while.
But after a short while, he couldn't help but excitedly describe the funny things he encountered recently while meeting with various company CEOs.
Maeve, while serving her son, occasionally chimed in with her husband.
The family talked and laughed, back and forth. Dylan's occasional remark would make the Hawkwood couple burst into laughter.
Outside the window, snowflakes silently began to fall, swirling down.
On this Christmas Eve, nothing earth-shattering happened.
It passed quite naturally.
When Christmas Day arrived the next day.
Dylan returned to Diagon Alley.
Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was still closed.
Presumably, Fortescue and Vera had gotten along quite well yesterday.
"That uncle's daughter is really pretty, exactly my type. It's just, she's already graduated, and I'm only in second year. There's no chance to pursue her."
Dylan thought about Fortescue's daughter from yesterday as he arrived at the entrance of Gringotts.
Even though it was Christmas, the shops in Diagon Alley were still open.
—After all, this is the commercial center of the British wizarding world. When everyone's on holiday, they naturally come here to spend money.
Upon entering Gringotts, Dylan looked around, ignored the young goblin who greeted him, and walked directly towards the old goblin from yesterday.
"Hey, hello there, we meet again."
Dylan stood in front of the old goblin's counter.
At this moment, the old goblin looked very drained. Even with all the wrinkles, they couldn't hide his haggard expression.
"Oh, it's you again. Why are you back?" the old goblin asked weakly, looking up. "What's wrong with you?" Dylan tilted his head. "I went back yesterday and thought about it. I think the house is indeed good, but the price is a bit high. So I wanted to ask you if you could lower it a bit. If so, I'll pay directly."
"Oh, oh? Are you sure you want to buy a house?"
The old goblin was startled at first, then immediately perked up.
"Oh, hehehe~ I just didn't sleep well. Since you're interested in purchasing property, then... shall we discuss it in more detail?"
He stood up and, like yesterday, bowed respectfully to Dylan, gesturing for him to follow.
His attitude was completely different from when they parted yesterday.
Dylan smiled and nodded, following the old goblin back into the private room.
"I can tell you really like this house, coming all the way here on Christmas. I don't want to miss out on a good buyer like you, so I'll just give you an even better price... A final offer of three hundred and fifty thousand Galleons!"
The old goblin lifted its head, a shrewd glint in its tiny, beady eyes.
"This is the most honest price I can give. If you miss this, I don't think you'll ever find such a good deal again."
Dylan shook his head. "My bottom line is two hundred thousand."
Old goblin: "..."
It nearly gasped for air.
Two hundred thousand? Was this kid trying to break its bones?
If it really sold for two hundred thousand, it wouldn't earn a single coin!
—Although there was a commission, how much was that? Only a mere fifty thousand Galleons!
"You must be joking..."
"No, I'm not joking. My bottom price is two hundred thousand."
"..."
The old goblin's face twitched.
Dylan looked at its conflicted expression and chuckled softly. "How about this, I'll offer one more, two hundred and ten thousand. If you think it's acceptable, we'll sign the contract. If not, then forget it. I'll look at other cheaper houses, or..."
"I'll go ask other goblins about the price of this manor."
With that, he made to stand up and leave.
The old goblin quickly stood up to stop him.
"Why are you in such a hurry? If you're not satisfied, we can always negotiate further. Please don't go looking for anyone else."
Dylan watched him silently, saying nothing.
The old goblin wrestled with itself for a moment, then gave a bitter smile. "I truly can't do anything with you! Alright—alright! For two hundred and ten thousand Galleons, this manor is yours!"
If this young wizard in front of him didn't look like he was only in his fourth or fifth year.
He would have suspected that this was the same person who ambushed him and robbed him yesterday!
He later reported this to the Aurors, but because it was a holiday, his case was continually delayed.
Heaven knows when they'll find the person who robbed him! Damn it! How dare someone rob him of his money! He would curse that person to be instantly refined by Voldemort!!
The base price for this house was two hundred thousand. He had originally hoped to sell it for fifteen thousand more, at least to make up for some of his losses.
He hadn't expected this little kid to drive the price down to the absolute bottom.
Could the other party be a Legilimens?
No, no, how could that be? He must have been hit too hard yesterday! How could a young wizard possibly master Legilimency?
Those professors would never teach that spell to students! "The property transfer will take some time to complete. Gringotts will clean the house for you and prepare everything before handing it over."
Dylan nodded.
Seeing no reaction, the old goblin added, "So, if you're sure you want it, you can pay the Galleons first, and we'll sign the contract to finalize the house?"
Dylan nodded again.
Using the old goblin's money to buy a house from the old goblin, Dylan saw no issue with it.
He and the old goblin signed a magical contract. The moment the contract took effect, Dylan felt as if something new had been added to his soul.
This feeling was different from the guarantee he signed at school; it was far more powerful, carrying an absolute binding significance.
As the buyer, he felt this, and the old goblin, representing Gringotts as the seller, likely felt it even more strongly.
"I wonder if, with a breakthrough in my soul research, I could bypass the soul restrictions of a magical contract and unilaterally break the agreement?"
Dylan pondered this as the old goblin ushered him out of Gringotts after he paid the Galleons.
For the next period.
Dylan was much more at ease.
The house business was settled in two days. After Christmas, the Hawkwood couple, aiming to earn more money for their son, would occasionally go out and be busy during the day.
However, most companies were on holiday these days, so they mostly just went out occasionally to buy lottery tickets and check stock market trends.
Dylan had originally planned for Kael'thas to make another appearance, but it was Christmas, and even a fool needed rest.
Besides, appearing too often just to do minor things would be too undignified.
Not to mention that the Aurors were working overtime to catch people during Christmas. Dylan, being so considerate, naturally wanted them to return empty-handed.
So, Dylan stayed home diligently, conducting experiments for the entire Christmas holiday.
Until the end of the holiday, Dylan returned to Hogwarts, sent off by the Hawkwood couple with reluctance, smiles, and frantic waves.
Old Dumbledore's supervision of Hogwarts had clearly become much stricter recently; Dylan immediately felt this upon arriving at school.
Dylan wasn't sure if old Dumbledore knew, or already suspected, that Voldemort might be using Horcruxes and dark magic to keep parts of his soul alive.
Otherwise, Dumbledore would have had ample opportunity to strike when Voldemort escaped, but he was wary that if Voldemort were thoroughly killed, other Voldemorts might appear.
Clearly, Dumbledore might already be considering the matter of Horcruxes.
Especially since he hadn't found the book Secrets of the Darkest Art in the Restricted Section.
This could only mean one thing: Dumbledore had already removed this book, which contained instructions on Horcrux creation.
Dylan actually wanted to see the contents recorded within and delve deeper into Horcruxes.
However, Dylan guessed that the book was probably sitting in Dumbledore's office right now.
That place, if not a dragon's lair or a tiger's den, was at least a mountain of knives and a sea of fire.
Dylan certainly didn't want to go steal a book.
Worst case, he could just try to build a relationship with old Dumbledore later and see if he could find some excuse to borrow the book.
Professor Snape's Birthday Surprise
Upon returning to school, Dylan continued his studies and research as usual.
Until Professor Snape's birthday arrived.
Though it was January, the snow continued to fall softly outside the window.
The weather seemed even colder, and even the Whomping Willow was quite subdued under the heavy blanket of snow.
"Professor, do we really need to surprise Professor Snape like this?"
Dylan looked at his own peculiar attire.
Then he looked at the others.
In the room, there was not only Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, but also old Dumbledore.
The professors were dressed as usual, but Dylan was dressed like a replica of Snape.
—A dark, flowing robe, and a wig on his head.
"Ohohoho~ I think there's nothing that could surprise Severus more than you dressed like this, Dylan."
Dumbledore said with a chuckle.
"Besides, it was your idea to throw a birthday party for Severus, so of course, you should make some contribution."
"..."
Dylan's face twitched. "Are you sure Professor Snape won't be so startled that he'll just hit me with a jinx?"
Old Dumbledore shrugged. "I imagine you'd be able to dodge it, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, yes, yes, that's exactly the expression! Heavens, I'm starting to wonder if you're Severus's child!" Old Dumbledore shrieked.
Dylan's eyelids twitched incessantly.
Professor McGonagall looked at Dylan and couldn't help but laugh. "I didn't expect that dressing you up would really make you look a bit like Severus."
Professor Flitwick nodded repeatedly. "He's carved from the same mold! Is this makeup? You can disguise yourself without magic?"
Old Dumbledore joined the conversation. "I've seen some Muggle makeup techniques; they're truly amazing, just like magic!"
Dylan watched the trio of professors chatting amongst themselves, sighed, and returned to stand by the door, awaiting Professor Snape's arrival.
—They were currently in Professor Snape's office.
Someone had just lured Professor Snape away, but upon realizing that the person who needed him was Lockhart, Professor Snape would likely return very soon.
The Surprise Unveiled
Meanwhile, Professor Snape walked back to his office, his face livid.
That idiotic Lockhart had come to him for help over a pipe! He had never met a more foolish professor than that man!
Even Quirrell was far more capable than him! —At least Quirrell could even learn Unforgivable Curses!
"And what's been up with McGonagall and the others these past two days?"
Severus constantly felt that everyone around him had been acting very strangely lately.
They were all so fake.
Yes, that's right, fake.
—Feigning smiles, feigning greetings, feigning walking around in front of him.
"Forget it, haven't these people always been like this? I wonder what new nonsense they're up to, especially Albus!"
Severus walked straight back to his office.
But just as he was about to push the door open, he paused, his brow furrowing.
"The door has been tampered with."
He raised his wand.
Recently, the monster in the Chamber of Secrets had the whole school on edge. That petrifying power seemed to require only a slight medium to work, which meant that even he had to be cautious.
He gently pushed open the office door with his wand.
The room was dimly lit.
Severus instantly saw a figure standing in front.
He was about to raise his wand, but then he saw what the figure looked like...
It was a smaller, replica version of himself?! "Sectumsempra!"
"What? Wait, Professor, it's me! Protego!"
Dylan darted aside.
Hearing Dylan's voice, Severus's movements instantly halted.
"Dylan?!"
Severus's eyes widened. Before he could even question, Dumbledore, standing deeper in the office, waved his wand.
Then, there was a deafening "bang"! Severus jumped, thinking someone had taken Dylan hostage.
But the next moment, colorful magical fireworks exploded in his office.
Gold and silver streamers flew everywhere.
Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall also waved their wands, conjuring glittering sparks that flickered like fireflies in mid-air.
Severus looked on, bewildered, his gaze sweeping over everyone's faces. When he came to his senses, his face grew darker and darker.
Seeing this, Dylan quickly spoke up, "Surprise~ Happy birthday!"
"Professor Snape, happy birthday!"
"You're going to set my office on fire!"
Severus's voice was extremely low, the syllables sounding as if squeezed from his throat.
"It's alright—it's alright~ These are just cold fireworks, they won't burn anything here." Dumbledore waved his wand. "I'm quite good at this kind of magic."
Whoosh
The next moment, a spark drifted onto a book, instantly setting it ablaze.
Professor Flitwick froze, then quickly doused it. "Ah? Were we supposed to use cold fire? No one told me."
Severus: !
Watching his expression, old Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall exchanged glances, then burst into laughter.
"Severus, look at your expression. Doesn't it look just like Dylan's?"
Severus glanced at Dylan wearing the wig, his eyelids twitching violently.
"Who dressed you up like this?"
Dylan froze, then swallowed, turning to look at Dumbledore.
The meaning was, of course, clear.
A vein popped out on Severus's forehead. "Dumbledore, I think your head has truly been caught in the Chamber of Secrets' door!"
Old Dumbledore, though insulted, remained good-natured and showed no anger.
"Anyway, Severus, today is your birthday. Happy birthday. We've put your gifts here. You can open them after we leave."
He pointed his wand at a nearby table.
It was covered with various wrapped gift boxes.
Severus paused, then fell silent again.
A Memory Rekindled
In fact, he hadn't celebrated his birthday in a very long time.
He couldn't say how long exactly, perhaps since the summer he broke with Lily, or maybe even long before that.
—Aside from Lily, it seemed no one had truly celebrated his birthday.
After Lily's death, he had long forgotten his own birthday.
—Sometimes Dumbledore would remember.
Oh, every single one of his birthdays, Dumbledore would remember.
And then send him one or two gifts.
Either Chocolate Frogs, or candies from Honeydukes, like those Cockroach Clusters he found utterly disgusting.
—Those candies would always end up being fed to flies or ants, because he never ate them himself.
He didn't know why, but it seemed only those small trinkets Lily had given him were ever to his liking.
And what did it matter whether these continued or not?
Last year, he did receive another gift.
From a very conceited, sharp-tongued little wizard, whose tongue seemed even sharper than his own. Serious when he needed to be, but when he wasn't, no matter how much Snape cursed him, it was like punching cotton—practically a replica of Dumbledore!
He was rather satisfied with that gift—he even wore that black robe to this day.
And after that time, Severus felt that perhaps he wasn't entirely unable to commemorate his birth anymore.
But did it truly need commemorating?
Initially, he believed it wasn't necessary. After Lily appeared, not needing it... seemed to become a kind of expectation.
And after Lily's death, every day, every hour, every minute, every second he lived—felt like hundreds of years.
He atoned under the burden of time. He was even willing to pay with his life, until he died.
Though his body was 33, his mind was already aged.
Constant pain ravaged him, making him forget how to find joy.
Protecting Lily's only child—and now, perhaps, a sharp-tongued little brat even more infuriating than himself—was his only thought.
This year, he had already resigned himself to receiving some useless candies and a decent, somewhat novel piece of clothing.
He hadn't expected...
These people would suddenly show up again.
Just to celebrate his birthday? Albus and Minerva, fine.
—Filius, are we that close? Severus looked at the uppermost crystal balls in his office, spelling out his name.
And, Happy Birthday! Then he looked at the pile of gifts on his desk, and a cake.
The small office wasn't crowded, but an uncontrollable warmth welled up in Severus's heart.
The streamers summoned by Dumbledore slowly floated down onto Severus's head.
His hair, which used to be greasy, had become much cleaner and even smooth and soft since Dylan gave him the hair-cleansing potion for Christmas.
Severus kept his face rigid.
Dumbledore said, "This cake is treacle tart-filled. It also has a treacle tart inside. I made it myself. Would you like to try some?"
Dylan also stepped forward. "Even though I haven't tried it, I think it should be good, Professor Snape. You can give it a taste."
Upon hearing the full name of the cake, Severus's slightly moved feelings shattered instantly.
"If it's so good, why don't you eat it?"
Dylan chuckled. "Today, you're the birthday boy, so of course you should have the first bite~"
(End of Chapter)
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