[Chapter Size: 2900 Words.]
Third Person POV
Hogwarts.
...
...
"Help…" The voice echoed in the distance, but the feeling was strong.
"Help…" the voice repeated.
Severus was lying in his bed in the cabin room, in the dragon reserve; at this moment, dawn had not yet broken. He had worked until the early hours of the morning at the pub, and now he was having a somewhat unusual dream.
In that dream, he seemed to have traveled to very distant lands, where there was no vegetation—only ice. Amid all that layer of snow and the low temperatures, he managed to perceive a cry for help.
An ancient voice echoed in his mind. He didn't know what it was, but somehow, it had managed to make contact with him.
"Please, get me out of here…"
He could visualize crystalline ice rocks inside that kind of cave, until he found the source of the voice. What he saw was only a blue point, frozen inside.
Severus woke up in the next moment, still trying to understand what he had just dreamed. "What was that…," he murmured, somewhat uncertain.
"Well… whatever it was." He simply said that, knowing he wouldn't get any answer right there, before getting out of bed and preparing himself to start the day.
At the same time, Dumbledore was that morning in his office, reading some newspapers he had been keeping over the past few days. He had been thinking about the war that was intensifying in the wizarding world.
There was a newspaper from weeks ago that showed two Death Eaters attacking Diagon Alley.
['Who had launched a sword through transfiguration, which pierced the leg of one of the Death Eaters and made them retreat!? No one knows who did it, but they certainly have great mastery over transfiguration.'], said the report in the Daily Prophet.
Dumbledore showed some interest, but soon set that newspaper aside and moved on to the next.
"Muggle family disappears in the south of England."
"Cases of Muggle murders increase in Scotland."
"New disappearances of Muggles in Wales."
"What is happening to the wizarding world?"
"You-Know-Who is becoming increasingly powerful. The Ministry remains idle."
"The Minister says they will strengthen the fight against the Death Eaters and reaffirms that You-Know-Who is not a threat as they say."
With each headline read, Dumbledore felt the weight of the situation, letting out a light sigh. He knew he needed to be patient. His fight against Voldemort was a minefield. It was a game of cat and mouse with the new dark wizard, while he gathered strength to fight him.
That was why he had founded the Order of the Phoenix a few years ago, since the Ministry seemed inert in the face of the threat. Voldemort was gaining more and more power.
And this, especially, worried him when he thought about the Hogwarts students. He knew that this war would end up involving everyone much more in the coming years. Many were beginning to graduate, falling to Voldemort's side. Slytherin was filled with ideals of blood purity, and many families were already aligned with the Dark Lord. Their children would follow his path.
He did not see a simple solution. The word "mudblood" was being said more and more frequently in the corridors and openly.
But not everything was bad. There were also good seeds on the side of the light, especially in Gryffindor — his house, the house of courage. Wizards like Longbottom would be graduating in a year, and, with a few more allies, he could strengthen the Order of the Phoenix even further.
This year, then, he would have it. On one side, the youngest son of the Lestranges would be graduating and going into Voldemort's arms, and, on the other, Longbottom going to the side of the light.
The same could be said of the year after that, where a large number of students would have no choice but to go to one side — far more than this year or any other.
After all, it was the students who were in their sixth year who worried him the most. When they finished their studies, Voldemort would have a large number of new followers — names like Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, and those other boys who surrounded him. Even that young Snape, who had already demonstrated extreme intelligence in Potions.
It was not all that surprising, considering that Snape had called that Gryffindor girl, Lily Evans, a "mudblood" in front of everyone. According to the professors themselves, the boy lived studying the Dark Arts. He had already demonstrated, a long time ago, which path he intended to follow. In a way, it was even better for Miss Evans to distance herself from a future Death Eater.
It was a shame that nothing could be done to bring him back to the light, but the boy was doomed the moment he put on the Slytherin robes.
On the other hand, Lily Evans was a brilliant girl, constantly praised by all the professors. Someone whom Dumbledore was already considering appointing as Head Girl in the coming year.
And she was not the only good seed in this group. He was certain that the Order of the Phoenix could become even stronger by incorporating various talents. The Marauders, despite being undisciplined and often arrogant, were openly against dark magic and any practice related to it.
He knew they would be an indispensable force in the fight against Tom.
There would be others as well: Mary Macdonald, Marlene McKinnon, and Alice — probably the future Mrs. Longbottom, with the two currently dating. All would be equally indispensable, especially for being close both to Lily and to the Marauders.
In any case, Dumbledore sighed.
He began to put away the newspapers. The last one spoke only of trivialities — gossip about Diagon Alley bustling with the return to classes in a few days and some curious news that made him smile lightly. He liked that sort of thing.
But soon he closed the newspaper. He then called a house-elf, who appeared immediately.
"Bring me breakfast. Today I will not join the professors for breakfast."
The elf nodded and disappeared. His table then transformed into a space filled with food.
Fawkes, the phoenix, appeared right behind him.
"Why don't you join me, my friend? They brought those fruits you love." Fawkes accepted the invitation, landing on the table and beginning to eat one of the fruits, while Dumbledore continued his meal, picking up a few more letters he had received during the night.
One of them was a reply from Flamel, whom he had asked to join him in the war, if possible. But, once again, it was a refusal. He said that he was no longer in condition to fight due to his age, but wished Dumbledore good luck. At the same time, he stated that he believed he could triumph against the Dark Lord and that, if he needed any assistance, he would be in France, available at any moment.
Dumbledore merely sighed. He could not demand much from Flamel either — his friend and former mentor.
There were a few more letters, including from members of the Order, bringing information or responding to questions he had asked.
A letter from Scamander came right after, among the other letters. He opened it, as it finally seemed to have some answer.
He needed certain ingredients from creatures that Scamander took care of. That was why he had asked him a month ago.
[It has been some time since I last wrote to you, Albus. I come to say that some things have happened in the past few days that have left me quite thoughtful, and I already have some ideas for the next edition of Fantastic Beasts, where I intend to update a large number of pieces of information that I have been researching over the past few years.
In any case, I will obtain the ingredients you requested and will send them as soon as possible.
However, I should say in advance that I need to talk a bit about my discoveries first.
I also want to congratulate a Hogwarts student who provided me with a great deal of this new knowledge, when I met him a few days ago.
I have contact with the caretaker of the dragon reserve in Scotland and was quite surprised when she, an old friend, told me that she had hired a boy to help her with the dragons. You know that this is not an easy task — it takes at least ten graduated wizards, aurors at the very least, to handle them safely while being among dragons. So hiring a boy was, at the very least, questionable.
Lady Mianna said that he performed exceptionally during this month — more than anyone else there, even herself, with decades of experience in the field. In that reserve, she found herself being surpassed by the boy, by the way he handled dragons that would devour any man with ease.
I confess that I found it strange, but she insisted that the boy was extraordinary. So she invited me to meet him during the hatching of some dragons that the boy himself had predicted would be born. And you know how beautiful the eggs of the Swedish Short-Snout Dragons are, don't you? I could not miss the hatching.
When I saw the boy for the first time, I knew Mianna was not lying. The boy already possessed an aura I cannot describe; I have never seen a young person with so much magic... He spoke with me and talked about some work he had done within the reserve — something truly fantastic. I intend to use this information in the next edition of my books.
And shortly after, I discovered the reason why Mianna truly believed so much in that boy. You know that some wizards can speak with snakes, but I saw the boy converse with dragons in a language I had never heard before — and they obeyed.
I tried to interact with the creatures using the same words. Although the dragons understood me, they did not necessarily obey me, unlike what happened with the boy. A language of the dragons themselves… I had never even imagined hearing about something like that.
There is Parseltongue, recorded throughout history. But a language that allows you to speak with dragons?!
This could turn the world upside down!
And that was not all. After we saw the eggs and I observed how the boy handled the dragons — in a way I had never witnessed before, not even I could do it like him —, we went to visit some colonies of magical creatures. There, we even found a phoenix.
And the phoenix… it wanted to bond with him. The boy seemed stubborn about it, or perhaps hesitant about it. At the same time, I noticed something even stranger: the connection between the two. The boy was able to generate flames with his hands, without a wand, and the phoenix fed on them with enthusiasm, as if it were the most delicious thing it had ever tasted.
A phoenix eating a strange flame, I have never seen anything like it.
Well, I will not reveal the boy's identity. He did not seem like someone you knew very well, but I am certain that you will eventually meet him and see for yourself just how extraordinary he is.
In any case, await the ingredients.]
With those words, the letter ended.
Dumbledore did not fail to close it with a thoughtful look. "What was all that…?"
Someone capable of speaking with dragons, just as Parselmouths speak with snakes… did that really exist?
He felt a bit frustrated. He wanted to send a letter immediately to Scamander asking for the name of that student; there was no one with these descriptions... but the sender himself had made it clear that he would find out on his own.
Perhaps it was better to wait. He knew that Scamander would not abandon the matter so easily.
Strange, very strange...
It was at that moment that the entrance to his office opened, and he saw Professor Minerva McGonagall coming up the stairs and entering the room.
"Albus! You didn't go eat with the staff, again..." she said, somewhat discouraged.
"Minerva, I'm sorry. Some matters to attend to." he said as the table began to be cleared after a snap of his fingers; the elves themselves were doing it invisibly.
"I see... I hope everything is alright." she said, looking at the pile of letters on the table.
"Yes, they are. I read some interesting things; Mr. Scamander himself sent me a letter with things to think about." He said, not trying to imagine what a person who could speak the language of dragons might impact in the war, depending on which side they leaned toward.
"And you? You took two students to buy supplies yesterday, and you will have another one this morning..." Dumbledore commented, looking at the professor with an amused glint.
"Yes..." she murmured, as she was helping, along with other professors, the new batch of students, Muggle-born, who understood nothing about the wizarding world. These students had not had the chance to go a month ago, so they were now taking care of buying their supplies.
Dumbledore did not stop looking at her and seemed to see something when facing her eyes. "You seem to have seen something quite interesting, haven't you, Minerva?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes.
"You noticed that? Yesterday morning, I came across something that surprised me..." she murmured.
"Really? Why don't you tell me more about it? Would you like a lemon drop?", he asked, quite interested in what she had seen, having already superficially checked her thoughts.
"Dumbledore, you've been doing this for years, you know I don't consume those things," said Minerva, clearly with a slightly offended tone.
But Dumbledore simply smiled. "Of course, of course, I apologize. Then, please, continue."
She simply sighed before beginning to speak. "I went to take the last little girl to buy her supplies — Heloísa. The girl is a sweetheart. When we stopped to buy some first-year books, we found her talking to a student who seemed to be from Hogwarts, carrying a stack of books."
"Well, I don't see why that would bother you so much, Minerva," said Albus with a perceptive look.
"Yes, the boy seemed friendly with Heloísa. She was talking to him when I arrived along with her parents. And she seemed to adore him. So much so that she didn't stop talking about him afterward."
"Then, the student said goodbye and simply performed wandless magic. He made the stacks of books float behind him as he went to the counter to pay."
"That sounds quite impressive..." Dumbledore commented.
"Yes. Someone capable of doing that is quite a rare talent. Not even at Hogwarts is there anyone who can perform wandless magic. Except… that person I saw was completely different from what he used to be when I heard his name... I did not recognize him. And, when I heard the girl call him Severus as she said goodbye, he gave her a smile, but I was left speechless..."
"Severus?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. The girl said he introduced himself as Severus Snape. Albus… he was completely different. I did not imagine seeing that boy like that. He didn't even speak to me, but he seemed like another person."
Dumbledore used Legilimency subtly and reviewed the scene in the professor's mind.
'Well… that was certainly him. But he was very different from what he used to be. And performing wandless magic…' Dumbledore could not help but ponder in his mind.
"What do you think about it?", Albus asked, looking at Minerva with interest, while she lightly pressed her lips together.
"I don't know, Albus. That is not, not even remotely, the same young man we knew. His appearance and personality were quite different from the boy who finished his fifth year."
"If what you say is true, I cannot disagree with you. But, certainly, we will have to wait for the beginning of classes, in a few days, to verify it better."
That was all Albus said, and Minerva nodded, although she still seemed somewhat bothered. During the rest of the day, after leaving Heloísa, she could not stop thinking about what she had seen in the bookshop.
Deep down, she believed that someone might have replaced Severus — or that someone was impersonating him. It did not make much sense, and the change was far too disturbing to be ignored.
In the end, they set the matter aside, and Minerva began to talk about other matters, since she needed to deal with issues with the headmaster.
After that, she left the room as she prepared to visit another first-year student that morning.
Dumbledore remained there, behind his desk, thoughtful. It was a curious coincidence to hear Scamander speak of a mysterious and highly capable young man, who could speak the language of dragons, and at the same time Minerva report the disturbing change in Severus Snape during that summer upon encountering him in Diagon Alley...
Whatever had happened — if it really was him —, it made no sense for someone to pretend to be the boy.
"Well… things seem to be about to get interesting this year, don't they?", he murmured, letting out a slight smile, while he heard Fawkes let out a sound behind him.
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