Ted and Andromeda were just about to help when little Tonks scrambled to her feet, brushing off the dust from her robes. As if nothing had happened, she darted toward Grindelwald with a grin.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Green!" she said, stopping in front of him and tilting her small face upward. "Thank you for saving us!"
Apparently, words weren't enough for Tonks. She wanted to show off. Taking a deep breath, her cheeks flushed slightly pink.
Then, her nose began to change. It stretched forward like clay, the tip protruding and swelling into something like a beak. A moment later, it snapped back, shrinking into a short, round shape with a red tip, looking like a freshly sprouted mushroom.
"Isn't this fun, sir?" Tonks asked, looking up at Grindelwald with eager eyes, struggling to control her ever-shifting nose.
For the first time, a spark of interest flickered in Grindelwald's eyes as he studied Tonks' freely transforming nose with curiosity.
"A Metamorphmagus," he said softly. "Quite impressive, little one." His gaze shifted to Ted and Andromeda, who had hurried over. "Such a rare gift for human transfiguration. Truly exceptional." He paused, then fixed the couple with an authoritative look. "Let her study magic with me."
Ted blinked, caught off guard by Grindelwald's words, and glanced at his wife for her opinion.
Andromeda hesitated. Nymphadora was so young, not yet old enough for formal magical training, but this could be a rare opportunity—
Before Andromeda could sort through her thoughts, Snape stepped up beside Tonks. He reached out and gently patted the little girl's head as she beamed up at Grindelwald, still thrilled by his praise.
"What are you standing there for?" Snape said. "Don't just gawk like a silly slug. Go on, call him 'Professor.'"
Nymphadora's eyes lit up, and she spun around, her face breaking into a wide smile. "Professor!" she called out to Grindelwald with enthusiasm.
"Very good," Grindelwald said, nodding with a hint of approval, clearly pleased by the title.
Under the watchful eyes of those around them, Grindelwald reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an object—a necklace.
The delicate mithril chain gleamed softly in the firelight. The pendant wasn't a typical design but a uniquely cut, multifaceted deep purple gem. It wasn't large, but it seemed to hold a quiet depth, shimmering with a mysterious glow as if a galaxy swirled within it.
Ms. Rosier, standing behind him, immediately understood. She stepped forward, taking the necklace from Grindelwald's hand, and knelt slightly to slip it gently around Tonks' neck. The purple gem rested against the little girl's robes, complementing her colorful hair.
With that done, Ms. Rosier stood and stepped back. Grindelwald set down his napkin, rose smoothly from his seat, and strode toward the restaurant's exit. Ms. Rosier gave Tonks a quick smile before hurrying to follow him.
As Grindelwald left the room, Snape turned to Ted and Andromeda.
"Congratulations," he said.
Ted and Andromeda exchanged a puzzled glance.
"To have such a teacher is Nymphadora's great fortune," Snape continued, looking down at Tonks. "Mr. Green possesses magical knowledge and insight far beyond most."
Ted's face showed gratitude but also confusion and a touch of awe. "Mr. Snape, we're incredibly grateful," he said hesitantly. "But who exactly is Mr. Green? How could he—how could he stand up to… Voldemort?"
"Mr. Tonks," Snape said, shaking his head slightly, "sometimes it's better not to know too much. If you trust me," he added with a cryptic tone, "though I'm younger than you, I've ventured further than most in this intricate art."
He paused, then continued, "Put simply, forget the complicated terms. Just know this: today's outcome is the best fate could have offered your family. If you tried to stay completely out of this, you might lose even more loved ones in the future."
Andromeda leaned against her husband, her gaze shifting from where Grindelwald had disappeared. "This is more than enough, Mr. Snape. Thank you," she said before Ted could respond. "This is the second time you've saved us."
Snape gave a small nod, accepting her gratitude.
"You're welcome," he said, then turned to Ted. "Ted, once you're settled, find Alastor Moody. He'll have some tasks you can handle. The ship needs capable hands, especially experienced adult wizards like you."
"Understood," Ted said with a serious nod.
The next day at noon, after finishing a substitute Potions class, Snape returned to his cabin deep within the ship.
The wooden cabin was tidy and bright. He closed the door, shutting out the corridor's noise, and pulled a letter from Narcissa Malfoy from the inner pocket of his robes.
With the faint sound of wind outside, he walked to the small desk by the window, his fingers brushing the wax seal on the envelope.
With a gentle tug, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
The message was brief, written in Narcissa's familiar, elegant script, tinged with a hint of anxiety. It listed only a time, a place, and a request to meet in person for "something extremely important."
Snape's eyes lingered on the paper: The Lamb and Banner Pub, 33 Rose Street, London, England.
From what he knew, it was likely a Muggle pub. Narcissa's choice of location suggested she wanted to avoid the wizarding world's prying eyes.
After a moment's thought, he made up his mind. He would go.
Though he couldn't entirely rule out the possibility of a trap from Narcissa, the Malfoys had lost Tom Riddle's diary. If he made it clear he wasn't the only one who knew that secret, Narcissa's rationality would likely keep her from doing anything rash.
With a flick of his wand, a blue flame consumed the letter.
After finishing his meal, Snape left the cabin and headed to the deck.
The afternoon sunlight, filtered through the ship's protective barrier, cast a warm glow on the wooden planks.
Hagrid stood leaning against the ship's railing, his massive frame casting a long shadow in the sunlight. His hound, Fang, raced excitedly across the deck, chasing imaginary prey, while up on a pile of ropes, Mrs. Norris lounged, lazily napping, her tail tip occasionally flicking.
The peaceful scene brought a rare lightness to Snape's heart. He pulled a small dried fish from his pocket and moved to the upwind side, waving it gently.
The rich, fishy scent wafted through the air.
Fang skidded to a halt, his huge nose twitching wildly as he turned toward the source of the smell. Spotting the dried fish in Snape's hand, drool dripped uncontrollably, splattering onto the deck.
The hound's wet brown eyes were filled with longing as he let out a low whine, circling Snape's feet cautiously yet eagerly.
The scent reached higher, too.
Mrs. Norris' nose twitched, her small ears flicked, and she slowly opened her yellow eyes, letting out an annoyed "meow." Stretching languidly, she extended her sharp claws and scratched at the ropes.
Spotting the fish in Snape's hand, she leapt down gracefully and sauntered over with elegant steps.
When she saw Fang eyeing "her" fish, the little cat arched her back, letting out a low growl.
"Mrrrow." Fang, startled by the tiny creature's ferocity, whimpered and took two steps back, though his eyes stayed glued to the fish, drool flowing even more.
Snape tossed the dried fish to Mrs. Norris.
The cat leapt lightly, catching it in her mouth, her pink tongue flicking out as she savored her treat with grace.
Fang's tail drooped, and he let out a louder, mournful whimper, watching helplessly, too intimidated to approach the fiercely possessive Mrs. Norris.
"Alright, Fang," Snape said, pulling out another dried fish and holding it near the hound's mouth. "Trying to make you a friend here, aren't I?"
Fang instantly forgot his woes, gobbling up the treat with glee. His tail wagged like a propeller, and he bounced in place with excitement.
"Sit!" Snape commanded.
Fang promptly plopped down, legs neatly together, front paws braced on the deck, tail still sweeping back and forth, his eyes fixed eagerly on Snape for more.
Snape pulled out another dried fish but held it just out of reach above Fang's head. The hound stretched his neck, his tail a blur of motion.
"This is Fang," Snape said to Mrs. Norris. "Looks fierce, but he's a big, cowardly softie." He patted Fang's shaggy head. "And this is Mrs. Norris. Your owner, Hagrid, hopes you two can be friends."
Mrs. Norris eyed the massive dog, who was several times her size yet cowering over a fish. She glanced at his drooling tongue, then at Snape.
Her desire for the fish and trust in Snape won out over caution. She crept closer, eyes locked on Fang's every move.
Fang, seeing the cat approach, quivered with excitement, barely containing the urge to bounce.
"Sit. Don't move," Snape said, pressing down on Fang's head. The hound whimpered but held his position, his tail tip twitching rapidly.
Mrs. Norris finally reached him. With a light leap, she landed on Fang's shaggy head, adjusting her stance to perch steadily. One paw reached out, snatching the fish from Snape's fingers.
Settling atop Fang's head, she munched contentedly, then began grooming her whiskers and face, oblivious to the world.
Fang froze for a few seconds, remembering the "don't move" command, only a soft rumble escaping his throat.
Then, unable to hold back, he ignored the order, stood up, and began bounding around the deck with the cat on his head.
"Meow!" Mrs. Norris yowled, her sharp claws digging into Fang's fur to avoid being thrown off.
Her small form bobbed as Fang raced around.
Hagrid turned, noticing the commotion, and looked at the two animals with a warm smile.
"Severus," he said, walking over, his eyes misty. "You've done it. It's unbelievable." His voice trembled with emotion. "They're friends. What a touching friendship—" He sniffled loudly.
Fang ran a few more laps before stopping in front of Hagrid, panting happily.
Mrs. Norris, finally calming down, released her grip and leapt off, striding back to her napping spot without a glance at Fang.
Fang's head bore a few shallow scratches, but his thick hide didn't mind. He wagged his tail merrily.
A few days later, Snape met with Professor McGonagall, informing her about the Horcrux and the diary and entrusting her with spreading the information further.
Afterward, he said goodbye to Fang and Mrs. Norris, now getting along splendidly on the deck, and left the Founders' Ship.
In a quiet corner of London, Snape carefully disguised himself.
Using human transfiguration, he added some flesh to his cheeks and jaw, transforming into an unremarkable, slightly stout middle-aged man.
Wearing a cheap Muggle coat, he arrived at 33 Rose Street, where The Lamb and Banner Pub stood.
The building was a classic Tudor structure, its black-and-white timbered walls slightly tilted, the protruding wooden beams nearly meeting at the top.
A painted sign hung at the entrance, depicting a charmingly chubby lamb and advertising their "signature spirit, Captain's Remains," with bold text proclaiming, "London's Oldest Pub, Est. 1623."
As the wooden door closed, the hustle and bustle of the street faded. In the brief silence, the pub's unique blend of smells—mingled with soft, old-fashioned jazz—washed over Snape's senses.
The lighting was dim, candlelight flickering, the air warm and slightly hazy.
Snape's eyes quickly scanned the room.
At a small two-person table half-hidden in the shadow of an oak beam, he spotted his target: a beautiful blonde woman sitting alone, sipping an amber liquid from a clear glass.
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