Chapter 29. Ordinary Fuel
Severus Snape's current workdays started too mundanely, but he was constantly irritated by the students - either by their behavior in class and in the corridors, or by their inability to brew the simplest potion according to the recipe written by Snape himself on the board. What frustrated him the most was their unwillingness to delve into the intricacies of potion-making, to understand the nuances of brewing potions, and to engage their imagination. Seriously, it all seemed as if they didn't understand the basic properties of ingredients. No one could even figure out how to easily extract juice from beans by gently pressing on them! And now, after classes, Snape was faced with a new headache in the form of stubborn Harry Potter, who refused to learn Occlumency. Every time, Snape easily invaded his thoughts and memories, feeling the slight breeze of the Dark Lord's cruel thoughts on himself. Did the Dark Lord himself know about their connection, did he suspect? Dumbledore had to find out about it before it was too late, though... Their last conversation on this convinced Snape - he's not Columbus, and Dumbledore doesn't see any revelations in it. But it's very likely that the boy doesn't want to part with this connection, opening a window for Voldemort to crawl through, planting any convenient thought in his head. And then trouble awaits.
This time, to his puzzlement, during the next lesson he received a strange sheet of parchment without a signature among the essays.
Long ago, the great knight Astolfo set out to defend his kingdom from a fierce enemy that threatened to destroy everything he held dear. As he rode across the battlefield, he noticed a strange figure in the distance, resembling a knight in armor. Riding closer, he realized that it was not a knight at all, but a barrel of beer!
Astolfo was stunned by the sight of the barrel and immediately charmed by its lovely appearance. He understood that he had to save it from the chaos of war and take it home as his own. He quickly grabbed the barrel and brought it to a safe place behind his own lines.
Soon he discovered that the barrel was not only beautiful but also contained the best creamy beer he had ever tasted. Astolfo became madly in love with the barrel and couldn't live without it. He took it with him everywhere, even into battle.
Not having finished reading the story, Snape didn't know what to do - whether to cry, laugh, or give a poor grade to the Troll for such a piece of work. And he knew perfectly well who it was. At that moment, the headmaster of Hogwarts entered his office personally. Noticing the teacher at work, Dumbledore asked,
"What has excited you so much, Severus? Could it be that among the essays, you came across something so delightful?"
Taking the sheet lying on the table in front of Snape with these words, Dumbledore adjusted his glasses and nearly choked on his saliva. Clearing his throat, he met the understanding gaze of the Potions Master. The latter silently nodded. Dumbledore quickly scanned the parchment in his hands.
And so, for the rest of his days, Astolfo lived long and happily with his beloved barrel nearby, a shining example of love and loyalty.
Together with Snape, they exchanged looks for a couple more seconds.
"This was a test on the Elixir of Death," Snape coldly remarked.
"But, you know, Severus," Dumbledore responded thoughtfully, "despite the uniqueness of this work, I wouldn't judge its author too harshly."
The Potion Master grimly snorted in response.
"Personally, the Dark Lord wants to decapitate the author. If you consider that a strict assessment, even the Troll in the journal is just child's play."
- So, are we going to judge child's play and haste strictly then?
- I would strongly condemn the mischief of exactly one student...
- Not everyone is capable of learning self-control as quickly as we would like. - Dumbledore replied. - Especially in this case.
- How long have you known about this connection?
- I've known all along. - Dumbledore replied. - From the moment James and Lily were gone, I knew and never doubted it. That is why I entrusted the boy to be raised by his aunt and uncle in a world where he is a stranger. That is why I surrounded him with constant control and observation. In the end, even Tom acknowledged my efforts.
Snape lowered his gaze, pretending to reread Draco Malfoy's essay for the hundredth time, while the headmaster continued to hold the parchment with the story of Astolfo and the keg of butterbeer.
- What is all this for? Why are we risking our lives and searching for Horcruxes?
- Harry must put an end to their confrontation. Not me, Severus, because I can't be with him forever. Not you. None of us. Not even Jeanne Alter, no matter how strong and talented she may be.
- But why?
- That night, Tom placed another piece of his soul in Harry. Harry is also a Horcrux that he intended to create. Unfortunately, for victory, he must die.
Snape flinched slightly. His face remained unchanged, but sadness could be seen in his eyes.
- Don't tell me you've grown attached to him too, Severus. - Dumbledore said with regret in his gaze.
- You raised the boy as a slaughter for so many years! - Snape's words echoed in Dumbledore's ears for a long time.
Snape stood up from his desk, waved his wand, and a bright silver stag burst out of it, circling the office several times. Dumbledore looked at it with admiration and curiosity.
- Even after all these years? - he asked puzzled.
- Always. - Snape replied.
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
- Can't we change everything with our powers?
Dumbledore continued to gaze thoughtfully and sadly at the spot where the magnificent stag Patronus of his loyal brewer had just stopped and dissolved into the air.
- Can't this Servant do something if she's still at Hogwarts anyway? No one could resist her.
- The War of the Holy Grail spares no one. - Dumbledore answered grimly, never averting his eyes from that one spot. - The souls of Servants in this war are just ordinary fuel for the Grail, which will only be spent by the victor.
Snape didn't notice when Dumbledore placed the parchment on the table, which he had just checked. When the door closed behind him, the brewer glanced at the quirky story about the knight Astolfo. He stared at this work as if for eternity, experiencing feelings known only to him, and then with a trembling hand, he marked it as Satisfactory.