Chapter Thirty-One
Snape's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland, 18 December, 1991
"Boys."
"Uncle," they replied. Snape gestured to two chairs in front of his desk, and the brothers sat down, totally at ease in his presence.
Snape's office was far from homey, however: the walls were gray stone, the foundations of the castle, and the distinct stench of mildew hung in the air like a fog. On shelves behind the Potion master's desk, there were many rare ingredients that looked unsettlingly like body parts from various animals.
Snape looked at his nephews with something that bordered on affection. "Is there something you wanted?" he asked softly.
"Yes, Uncle. Adrian wanted to talk to you, but could I ask you something first?" Draco asked.
"I believe you just did," Snape drawled, onyx eyes boring into Draco's grays.
"Yes, well, I was wondering if there were any advanced potions you could teach me?" he asked, sounding hopeful.
"Perhaps. Did you have any one in particular on your mind?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, well, I found a snake on the grounds that Adrian seemed to like, and I wondered if there were a way to make sure it'd never die," Draco explained, lying through his teeth.
"You want to know if there is a potion to make one immortal," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes, Uncle. For Adrian's snake."
"There is one potion I know of, but the ingredients are exceptionally rare. I don't think that the main ingredient can even be found anymore."
"Well, what is the ingredient? Maybe Adrian and I could find it!" Draco said brightly.
"I doubt even two miscreants such as yourselves could locate the elixir of life," Severus said, a small smile on his normally sneering face.
"What is the elixir of life, Uncle?"
"Didn't your brother wish to speak with me?" Severus said coolly, deflecting the question with practiced ease.
Sighing in frustration, Draco nodded and left the room, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him.
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland
"Hullo, Headmaster. I'm not disturbing you, am I?" Henry asked, poking his head inside the door.
"No, no, dear boy, not at all! Do come in," Dumbledore said, seeming genuinely pleased to see him.
Henry smiled shyly and opened the door all the way, looking around at the familiar office. "Did you make something new, professor? I don't think I've seen that one before," he said, pointing to a small silver instrument that rolled around on the floor near the old man's feet.
"Yes, I've been working on it for some time now. It just popped into my head whilst I was knitting last spring and I finished it last week," Dumbledore said, chuckling and lifting his leg as the contraption ran repeatedly into his leg.
"What does it do, sir?" Henry asked curiously.
"I haven't the slightest idea. Mostly it runs into my feet or the feet of my guests. Please, sit down," the headmaster replied, eyes twinkling behind his glasses.
Henry nodded gratefully and closed the door behind him. He settled comfortably in the chair across for Dumbledore.
"Tea? Its peppermint," Dumbledore asked, offering a small kettle and cup to the boy.
Henry took the cup eagerly. "How'd you know that peppermint was my favorite?"
"I've known you since you were quite small," he said simply. "How are your classes?"
"Oh, fine sir. I've made a lot of friends. They're really cool," Henry said, taking a swig of tea. He spat and coughed. "Hot!" he cried. "Really, really hot!"
"My apologies, dear boy, I should have warned you," Dumbledore said sadly, cleaning his desk with a wave of his wand. "Here, stick out your tongue."
Henry did as he was told and was relieved by a cooling charm. "Thank you, sir."
"No problem, Henry. It was my fault to begin with," he said.
"I was wondering something, though, if you don't mind me asking," Henry said hesitantly.
"Ask away, my boy, ask away."
"What did the thief at Gringott's try to steal?"
Dumbledore's smile faltered. "How should I know?"
'A bit defensive, aren't we, Headmaster?' Henry thought smugly. He'd surprised the old man.
"Well, my father has friends at Gringott's, and he mentioned to me in a letter that the vault that was broken into was owned by Hogwarts," Henry said casually, sipping his tea cautiously.
"Did he?" Dumbledore's eyes hardened and Henry gulped, choking a bit on the still-scalding tea.
"Yeah, so I was just curious as to what someone could want so badly from a school. I mean, obviously money, but they could've gotten money from another vault, couldn't they? One that wasn't so heavily warded?" Henry asked innocently.
"Yes, I suppose they could have," Dumbledore said quietly, studying the boy with a new interest.
"So they must have been after something that wasn't anywhere else, right?" Henry pressed.
"That would be logical."
"So what is so rare and valuable that someone would be willing to break into Gringott's for it? It'd have to be, I dunno, one of a kind, wouldn't it?"
"Henry, you should go. You don't want to be caught after hours, now do you?" Dumbledore said, straining for a smile.
"You're probably right, sir. I should go to bed," Henry said, masking his mounting frustration and disappointment with a tired smile. "Goodnight, Professor."
"Goodnight, Henry."
Dumbledore watched the boy leave his office. He was so like James, they could pass for twins, were they the same age, but Henry had his mother's perfect eyesight and critical mind. He was getting too close to the truth.
Henry Potter, the boy-who-lived, was to be watched as well.
Dumbledore vanished the remains of the tea, put out the lights, and went wearily to bed.
