On the way to the Room of Requirement, Lily walked side by side with Pandora.
The narrow staircase forced them to stand close, their shoulders nearly brushing, yet they never quite touched.
At the eighth-floor landing, Lily instinctively started to climb further, but Pandora turned and stepped into the corridor.
"Is that place near the Headmaster's office?" Lily asked, curiosity lacing her voice.
Pandora shook her head without a word, her steps light and purposeful as she led the way with a quiet confidence. Severus Snape, wisely, kept silent, offering no opinions on their route.
Lily chose to follow Pandora, trailing just half a step behind—perfectly poised, neither too close nor too far.
Pandora guided them straight to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls on the eighth floor of the castle.
"Here we are," she said, stopping before a bare stone wall. Her voice rang clear in the empty corridor.
The troll in the tapestry paused mid-swing, turning to stare at Lily. It was the first time it had seen her linger here. Lily glanced at the troll but made no move, instead turning thoughtfully to the blank wall.
"Here? A wall?" She stood half a step from Pandora, tilting her head as she studied the unremarkable stone.
Pandora didn't answer. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze flickering briefly over Severus's face, her lips curving into a strikingly beautiful smile.
The smile vanished so quickly that Severus wondered if he'd imagined it.
He hurried to the blank wall, tapping it rhythmically while thinking to himself: Pandora is so lucid today, a stark contrast to her usual experiment-obsessed haze. Thankfully, I've never mentioned the Room of Requirement to Lily.
After his silent communication with Myrtle Warren, a soft "creak" sounded, and a half-open wooden door materialized on the white wall.
"Quick, get inside," Severus urged, pulling the door shut behind them.
Beyond the door lay a spacious room. A long table laden with various instruments stood at its center, surrounded by towering bookshelves crammed with books. In one corner, a small lounge area held two plush armchairs.
The door had barely closed when a cheerful female voice echoed through the room.
"Severus, you're finally here! It's been ages since we bathed together."
Severus stiffened and turned to see Myrtle Warren's translucent form dangling upside-down from the ceiling. Her silver-gray eyes blinked behind round glasses, her face flushed with an eerie blush.
Pandora and Lily immediately turned to Severus. He felt as though he were drowning.
"Myrtle," he snapped after a stunned two seconds, "don't say things that ruin my reputation!"
Myrtle sniffled, adopting her usual pitiful expression. Tears welled in her transparent eyes, spinning rapidly but never falling.
"Severus," she said with a sob, "why would you say that? Last time we bathed, you said my eyes were as captivating as stewed gooseberries…"
Lily's green eyes widened, her mouth falling slightly open. Pandora raised one eyebrow, her expression caught between shock and suppressed laughter.
"Stop talking nonsense!" Severus protested. "Last time, you sneaked into the bathroom to spy WHILE I was bathing. How does that become 'bathing together'?"
"But," Myrtle floated closer, her voice theatrical, "didn't you willingly show me your body in the end?"
"Show what?" Severus felt sweat bead on his forehead. "You—"
"Severus," Lily interrupted, her lips twitching as if holding back a smile, "I had no idea you had… such tastes."
"I don't have any tastes!" Severus said urgently. "Don't gang up on me to tarnish my good name!"
But Lily ignored him, smiling at Pandora. "You said 'no one else' earlier. So this is what you meant. No wonder your tone sounded odd."
Pandora frowned, looking at Severus. "You bathed with Myrtle?"
"No!" Severus said quickly, feeling his reputation crumbling at lightning speed. "Myrtle, clear this up!"
Seeing his flustered state, Myrtle gracefully drifted between the three. "I was joking earlier. I've never bathed with Severus."
She spun, letting out a deliberate sob. "And I can't bathe anymore… That day, the 'lady' I saw bathing with Severus was someone else entirely."
Severus had just begun to relax at her clarification, but her latter words nearly made him trip.
"Another lady?" he said, his voice rising. "That was Mrs. Norris! The cat!"
Pandora and Lily turned to him with pitying looks.
"No," Severus backed up, his back hitting the wooden door. "That's not what I meant—"
"Pfft," Lily burst out laughing, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. "I didn't know you and Filch's cat were so close."
"Alright, we'll respect your choices," Pandora said with a grin. "Your tastes are… unique, but we won't judge."
"Yes, Severus," Lily nodded in agreement. "It's nice. At least it's better than your old hobbies." She glanced around. "But there's nothing here for brewing potions."
"That's simple," Pandora said, closing her eyes and murmuring silently.
Moments later, with a low rumble, the Room of Requirement transformed:
The room expanded as if unfolding, the central table growing wider and longer. Brass cauldrons of various sizes, crystal vials, and brass scales clattered into place on the table. The bookshelves rearranged themselves, with hefty potion tomes floating to prominent positions.
Lily's jaw dropped, her shock plain. "This… this is…"
"The Room of Requirement," Pandora said, smiling brightly. "You can ask it for what you truly need—within reason, of course."
Lily closed her eyes to try it.
With a soft hum, a beautiful bathroom appeared in the corner, its frosted glass door etched with lily flowers. In the lounge area, Severus noticed a new, soft floral-patterned armchair.
Pandora, curious, opened the bathroom door for a peek. Myrtle hovered behind her, peering in.
"Not bad," Lily said to her.
"Very nice," Pandora agreed, closing the door with a nod. "Now we can stay here longer. Why didn't I think of this before?"
"It's a bit too bright and clean," Myrtle commented, "but I like it."
With the Room of Requirement expanded, they returned to the long table.
"Severus," Lily said, holding out her hand, "hand over the Muggle lab equipment, the Opaleye dragon blood, and the other materials. Time to get to work."
"Alright," Severus said, pulling out all the purchased tools and materials from his small bag and setting them on the table with their manuals. "Need me to explain how to use them?"
"No need," Lily said, glancing at Pandora. "Interested in brewing Wolfsbane Potion?"
"Of course," Pandora replied, exchanging a look with Lily. "It doesn't seem too hard. You go do your thing, Severus."
"What?" Severus looked at them innocently. "Are you sure?"
They nodded firmly.
In the end, he retreated to the lounge area, sinking into an armchair. He pulled out Tom's diary and a quill, ready to chat.
Just as he was about to write, he caught sight of them trying to light a flame under a water-filled graduated cylinder.
"Stop!" Severus shouted, nearly falling out of his chair. "No, that's a graduated cylinder. You can't heat it." He pointed to nearby glassware. "Use a flask for heating."
"Really?" Lily asked skeptically, flipping through a manual. "Oh, it does say that."
Severus sighed, tucking the diary back into his robes and standing up. "I'll demonstrate. A Calming Draught is a good choice."
It was a potion Eileen had asked him to make for Mrs. Weasley. Since he had time now, he might as well finish it. Otherwise, by the time he remembered, the Weasley twins might already be born.
"When brewing a Calming Draught, you must be meticulous," Severus said, approaching the table and setting up a mechanical scale, tray, and measuring cup. "Carelessness with ingredients can put the drinker into a deep, sometimes irreversible sleep."
"Every ingredient must be precise," he continued, his fingers grazing the shiny new instruments. "These tools are far better than scales for accurate measurements."
In that moment, he seemed like a masterful Potions professor, his demeanor and movements mirroring Slughorn's, save for the lack of luxurious hair.
"A pinch of moonstone powder," Severus said, adding some to the tray and adjusting it precisely with a small spoon. "Five grams, to be exact."
After measuring all the ingredients, he lit a flame under the cauldron, adding and stirring them in turn.
As the potion neared boiling, 他 picked up an odd-shaped instrument.
"This is a bimetallic thermometer," he said, placing one end in the flame. "It measures the flame's temperature."
"As you know, for a Calming Draught, the flame must reach a specific temperature when the cauldron boils," he said, watching the gauge and adjusting the flame with his wand. "Neither too high nor too low, and held for a precise duration before adding the final ingredient."
"There," he said, checking the thermometer and stopwatch. "Three thousand two hundred degrees Celsius for seven minutes."
Finally, he used a dropper to add two drops of hellebore syrup. "This ensures an exact drop, not a wizard's shaky hand."
As he worked, the potion released a faint, silvery vapor, shifting from pink to turquoise blue.
"Perfect," Severus said, turning to Pandora and Lily. "This is better than what I made in class. We should record the optimal ingredients and process."
They stared, dumbfounded, at his distinctly unmagical potion-making.
"It can be done like this…" Lily murmured, biting her lip.
After extinguishing the flame, Severus bottled the potion in a crystal vial, labeling it: "Stew in a water bath for ten minutes before use."
"Got it?" he asked, beaming at his two students. "This is the precise science and strict art of potion-making. Now, you two figure out the best process for Wolfsbane Potion and document it. I'll check later."
After further explaining the equipment, he returned to the lounge, reclining comfortably and watching them get to work.
Out of caution, he observed silently for a bit. Seeing they made no obvious mistakes—and that Myrtle had been roped in to monitor the temperature—he finally relaxed and pulled out the diary.
"Hello, Riddle," he wrote, the quill scratching softly. "I was busy yesterday and couldn't answer your question. Now I've got some time."
"I remember you asked how I found your diary," he continued. "Here's the story: before term started, I bought a secondhand copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts in Diagon Alley, and your diary was inside. Maybe its previous owner left it there."
The ink spread briefly on the page before vanishing, as if absorbed by a sponge. Moments later, Tom's elegant handwriting appeared:
"Hello, Spike. I see. It seems the diary's previous owner discarded it. Are you a Hogwarts student? I studied there myself."
"Yes," Severus wrote casually. "I'm a fourth-year Slytherin. What house were you in?"
"What a coincidence—I was Slytherin too. I was in my fifth year when I wrote this diary. Your current headmaster—"
Tom's words were cut off as Severus wrote again.
"Riddle," he scribbled bluntly, "why are girls so hard to understand? Can you teach me how to get along with multiple girls at once? I don't know if you'll get this, but great people always face choices. They're all my wings, and I don't want to choose."
The diary fell silent for a long moment before a single line of hasty handwriting appeared.
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