Dumbledore... tsk... what a good man.
Kyle couldn’t help but sigh. Dumbledore had really done right by Snape—he’d even thought ahead to what would happen to him afterward.
Back at Hogwarts, although most people didn’t know the full story of Voldemort’s escape, those who were nearby at the time—like Professor McGonagall and Amelia Bones—were well aware of what had happened.
They knew Snape had helped Voldemort escape.
If the Ministry of Magic had moved quickly, his name would probably already be posted on shop doors throughout Diagon Alley, wanted by the entire wizarding world.
Snape might not have cared about a wanted notice back then. At the time, all he wanted was to kill Voldemort—nothing else mattered.
Besides, as a Potions Master, he certainly wouldn’t be short on Polyjuice Potion. If he wanted to hide, he could’ve lived right next to an Auror and still never be caught.
But now, things were different. Snape had to think about Kanna’s feelings.
In a way, he was just like Sirius.
Sirius had gone from not caring, to willingly confessing and being locked in Azkaban, and then, after breaking out, desperately trying to clear his name—just so he could live with Harry.
Snape was in the same situation now, only his was even more complicated than Sirius’s had been.
Back then, no one knew Sirius was Harry’s godfather. So even if the truth hadn’t come out, Harry could have secretly stayed at 12 Grimmauld Place.
But now, everyone knew Kanna was related to Snape. That meant she might end up under Auror surveillance, or face judgmental stares from others.
Of course, if it really came to that, Kyle would never just sit back and do nothing—but that wasn’t what Snape wanted.
Dumbledore’s arrangement was meant to bring Snape back into the light.
Kyle hadn’t seen what was inside that bottle of memories, but he figured it was probably a scene from seventeen years ago—Snape begging Dumbledore to protect Lily Evans.
Or maybe it was Snape trying to protect Harry after Voldemort’s fall.
If Dumbledore intended to use it to clear Snape’s name, he’d likely done a bit of artistic editing—cutting some parts to make the memory seem brighter, more favorable.
Dumbledore was always doing things like that. Just like a few days ago, when he’d wanted to jump out and draw everyone’s attention away from Kyle.
In Dumbledore’s view, he never cared much about his own reputation anyway—so why not make the most of it? At least he could help make life a bit easier for those still alive.
That was so very Dumbledore.
“How much longer are you going to ramble?” came Grindelwald’s impatient voice from beside him.
“Didn’t you want me to take you back to Nurmengard? Go ahead, beg me. I might think about it.”
“Oh…” Kyle felt a wave of discomfort, like a sudden toothache, and couldn’t help frowning.
He seriously wondered if the person in front of him was really Grindelwald. That kind of awful line wouldn’t even make it into one of Lockhart’s books... though it might turn up in a fan letter from one of his crazed admirers.
But before Kyle could say anything, he caught Grindelwald’s icy stare.
“Right, right…” Kyle instinctively shrank his neck and wisely decided not to voice his thoughts.
Only then did Grindelwald withdraw his gaze.
A few minutes later, he and Dumbledore left the suitcase without so much as a word of goodbye—just as they’d entered, without asking the owner’s permission.
Kyle didn’t mind. He followed them out.
He’d almost forgotten—there was something he had to check.
Outside, it was still forest, though he had no idea exactly where.
By the time Kyle stepped out, Grindelwald and Dumbledore were already gone, which made him breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
Grindelwald had put way too much pressure on him. It was a completely different feeling from facing Voldemort.
Maybe it had something to do with personality.
Kyle understood Voldemort would never be friendly with him. So the moment he saw him, his mind had immediately jumped ahead to what would happen next, and he’d prepared himself in advance.
He’d definitely been nervous, but not overly so.
But with Grindelwald, it was different—Kyle didn’t know him or what to expect from him.
Even though Grindelwald had seemed relatively friendly inside the suitcase and hadn’t done anything extreme—when he got angry, It was all just bluster, and he made sure not to embarrass Dumbledore—but Kyle still didn’t dare lower his guard.
After all, just standing there doing nothing, Grindelwald still made you break out in a cold sweat.
It really was more comfortable like this.
Kyle glanced around and quickly spotted the Wampus Cat in a nearby tree.
The poor thing had already passed out. All six legs, along with its head and tail, were tightly bound in some glue-like substance, completely immobilized.
But it was still alive.
Grindelwald had at least kept his word—he’d only restrained the Wampus Cat, not killed it.
Having just lost a Basilisk, if the Wampus Cat had died too, Kyle probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep for days.
He hurried over and tried to peel the “glue” off its body.
But no matter how many Scouring Charms or Dispel Charms he cast, nothing worked.
“That’s a binding spell from the Middle Ages. Ordinary spells won’t affect it,” came Snape’s voice from behind.
He had come out too, looking at Kyle with a complicated expression. “If you need help, I could—”
“Finite Incantatem!”
Before he could finish, Kyle plunged his wand—glowing with a soft orange light—into the ground.
A plume of golden flame erupted from the wand's tip and swept over the Wampus Cat.
It wasn’t hurt at all—not a single strand of its soft fur was singed—but the restraints began to dissolve in the golden fire.
Within seconds, the Wampus Cat rolled over and leapt down from the tree, rubbing its big head against Kyle’s arm with a low, rumbling purr.
“It’s alright, it’s alright…” Kyle murmured reassuringly. “That guy was Grindelwald. The only creature likely to escape from him is a phoenix.”
He scratched the Wampus Cat under its chin, then suddenly paused, realizing something. He turned around.
“Professor Snape… or, well, sir—what were you saying just now?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything,” Snape replied, exhaling deeply.
He’d nearly forgotten—Kyle could use Finite Incantatem. He didn’t need any help.
“Alright,” Kyle said simply.
They stared at each other in silence, and the air grew awkward once again.
Kyle had no idea what Snape was thinking. As for himself, he truly didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t just say congratulations, could he?
Well, maybe he could. After all, Voldemort was dead, and Snape had achieved what he’d always set out to do—avenging Lily. He hadn’t delivered the final blow, but he’d certainly played a part.
Still… considering Oren nearly conned him out of something so personal, saying congratulations now just feels off. Almost like a slap in the face.
Not to mention, Snape was probably still wanted by the authorities. Best to wait until they got back to Hogwarts and sorted things out before saying anything like that.
Speaking of which—how much was Snape’s bounty, anyway?
The thought popped into Kyle’s mind automatically.
Sirius had been worth ten thousand Galleons, since he was the first dangerous fugitive to escape Azkaban—that had been the highest bounty the Ministry had ever offered.
But Snape had just helped Voldemort escape. That was arguably even more dangerous than a prison break. There was no way the reward was any lower than Sirius’s.
Kyle gave Snape a thoughtful look.
Maybe they could work together—collect the bounty first, then clear his name afterward. A win-win.
Sure, Snape probably wasn’t short on Galleons, but who would complain about having too much gold? Ten thousand split two ways was five thousand each. And they wouldn’t even need to lift a finger—it’d be practically free money.
But then Kyle remembered the current state of the Ministry’s finances and quickly dismissed the idea.
Forget it. The Ministry probably couldn’t cough up ten thousand Galleons—maybe not even a thousand. Whatever little they had left would be used for Auror and Hit Wizard funerals, death benefits, or keeping what little remained of the system running.
If Kyle really turned Snape in, the most he’d get was a pat on the back… and an IOU.
Not that Kyle minded. As long as the Galleons were guaranteed, he’d be willing to wait a year or two.
But Snape probably wouldn’t want to wait a year or two before clearing his name.
“What a shame.”
As Kyle suddenly sighed, looking like he’d just lost a fortune, Snape had the strange feeling that something was very wrong.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Professor Snape… if you don’t mind me calling you that,” Kyle broke the silence, “before I got here, you’d already been expelled from Hogwarts.”
“Is that so?” Snape said, his expression dimming.
He had always believed he didn’t care about being a Hogwarts professor, or Head of Slytherin, or any of that.
But now… maybe that wasn’t entirely true.
Hearing that he’d been expelled left him momentarily dazed.
“Of course, it’s only temporary,” Kyle continued. “Once Professor McGonagall sees your memories… she might withdraw the expulsion notice. You could still be a professor…”
For some reason, every word Kyle said felt oddly awkward—or maybe just unfamiliar.
Thinking about it, he and Snape had never spoken like this before. They were always sniping at each other, never having a calm, civil conversation…
No wonder it felt so strange.
Kyle rubbed his arms, opened the suitcase to let the Wampus Cat inside, and did his best to make his voice sound as normal as possible.
"I doubt you can get me past Minerva’s inspections," Snape replied with a shake of his head.
He knew his colleague well. A serious-minded Professor McGonagall wouldn’t let a single suspicious person near the castle.
Even if Kyle managed to distract her somehow, there were still Filius and Pomona to deal with.
"Help you into the Headmaster’s Office? I don’t recall saying I needed to do that," Kyle blinked innocently. "It’s just a memory bottle. There’s no rule that says you have to retrieve it. Why can’t I go get it instead?"
"…"
Snape went silent.
Right. His only goal was to deliver the memory containing the truth to Minerva. He wasn’t trying to storm the Headmaster’s Office. It really didn’t have to be him.
Although, deep down, he didn’t like the idea...
To Snape, if there were any other way to get it done—no matter how troublesome—he’d rather take that than ask Kyle for help.
"Kanna is waiting for you too," Kyle continued. "She’s always believed in you. Even based on an unconfirmed suspicion, she was willing to entrust you with something that could save her life.”
"Now that the truth has come to light, you owe her an explanation—don’t you think?"
"...Alright."
This time, Snape didn’t hesitate. He stepped over beside Kyle. "I’ll go back with you—but on one condition."
"Name it."
"I’m not grabbing your arm. Ever."
"…"
Kyle took a deep breath and blurted out, "You don’t need to remind me. I wouldn’t let you grab it anyway."
Just picturing Snape grabbing his arm made Kyle feel like he’d rather face Voldemort again.
"Good." Snape came to stand beside him. "So what do I do?"
"Nothing. Just relax and stay still," Kyle said.
"But I should warn you—the process might not be as pleasant as you expect. That’s totally normal. Don’t overreact."
"I won’t. No need to worry," Snape said coolly.
It’s just Apparition, after all.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before—why the warning?
Kyle glanced at Snape’s indifferent expression, then at Fawkes. His lips twitched upward slightly before flattening again as he forced himself to act casual.
He looked up and said, "Fawkes, please take us back to Hogwarts."
The phoenix spread its wings, gripped Snape by the shoulders, and extended its tail toward Kyle.
Kyle reached out and took hold.
In the next moment, both of them vanished from the forest.
...
When they reappeared, they were standing on the grounds by the Black Lake at Hogwarts.
Kyle had specifically instructed Fawkes to bring them here, to ensure—
"Ugh..." A harsh, retching sound came from beside him.
—to ensure that Snape wouldn’t throw up on the castle floor.
Kyle rubbed his temples. Traveling thousands of miles from the forests of Austria to Hogwarts wasn’t easy. Even for him—someone who’d already been through it once—it was uncomfortable. Let alone for Snape, who had just experienced phoenix travel for the first time.
The phoenix would punish everyone who underestimated Apparition equally.
Snape was now sprawled on the ground, struggling to stand. But his limbs weren’t cooperating, as if they had minds of their own—like newly attached parts refusing to work together.
In the end, Snape couldn’t get to his feet. All he could do was lie there, slowly dragging his head toward the edge of the Black Lake.
Click!