Chapter 947: Chapter 947: What Made You So Favored by Dumbledore?
"Ugh... Where am I..."
Snape didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but he finally came to. He wasn’t fully alert yet—still lying down, staring blankly at the spotless blue sky overhead, slightly dazed.
It wasn’t until something stepped across his arm that the memories came rushing back.
Wait—he was supposed to be in Nurmengard. But where was this?
Nurmengard couldn’t possibly have such a clear sky. And snow-capped mountains? No way...
Hold on—by Merlin’s beard. Why could he see snow-capped mountains next to a forest?
Snape thought he must be mistaken. He tried to sit up, struggling against the pain that suddenly surged through his body like needles piercing every nerve. His neck barely lifted before it dropped back down again.
His movement startled the small creature perched on his arm.
The Niffler looked up nervously, locking eyes with Snape.
Man and Niffler stared at each other.
Despite being caught in the act, the brazen little Niffler didn’t back off. It kept digging at Snape’s wrist with stubborn determination.
"Give it up. You’re not getting that off," came a voice from the side.
Snape instinctively turned his head and saw Kyle expertly grab the Niffler by the scruff. He made a clean, practiced motion and flung it far away like he was throwing a Quaffle.
"Don’t worry, Professor Snape," Kyle said as he walked over, speaking casually. "The item Kanna gave you is still perfectly safe. That little guy didn’t steal it—he couldn’t even if he tried."
Snape’s expression grew stern. The moment he saw Kyle, he had instinctively tried to stand. The pain was so intense, he didn’t even hear what Kyle had said.
"Why are you here? And... where is this? What happened to me..."
"You’ve got a lot of questions, Professor Snape." Kyle gave him a look, then waved a hand to conjure a chair behind him—complete with a soft cushion, thoughtfully added.
Snape didn’t acknowledge the gesture. He didn’t even glance at the chair, let alone sit down.
Kyle didn’t seem to mind. He simply looked at Snape and asked, "First things first... do you really not remember what happened?"
"What happened before..." Snape frowned instinctively, letting out a low grunt.
It felt like his consciousness had been yanked and twisted, leaving his memories a chaotic mess.
But at least it was only confusion—nothing was missing.
Snape forced himself to calm down and began carefully piecing the fragments of memory back together.
As he did, his expression grew increasingly grim.
"Where is this place?" His voice was low, tinged with an urgency he couldn’t hide.
"This is my suitcase. Think of it as a magically expanded tent with plenty of space," Kyle explained.
"Why are you here?" Snape pressed. "What about the Dark Lord?"
"Fawkes brought me. I think Professor Dumbledore wanted me to help out," Kyle said after a brief pause. "As for the Dark Lord—he’s dead."
"Impossible!" Snape’s pupils contracted sharply.
"Nothing’s impossible. And I’ve got no reason to lie about something like that," Kyle replied with a shrug.
Since there wasn’t much else to do, Kyle went ahead and gave a brief account of what had happened after Fawkes brought him here.
Snape didn’t interrupt. He listened in silence, frowning from time to time.
But when Kyle mentioned that Voldemort had transferred his consciousness into Snape’s body before dying, Snape’s breathing audibly quickened.
That part, he remembered with painful clarity.
In fact, Snape had already regained consciousness back then—but his mind was trapped, encircled by a creature with glowing red eyes. He was locked tight, with no way out.
And yet, he could feel everything.
Through the pain, he felt his jaw move—taunting Kyle, even mentioning Kanna’s name.
He had always gone to great lengths to hide Kanna’s existence from Voldemort, even using Memory Charms on certain Death Eaters at great personal risk.
But Voldemort still found out.
Snape’s heart tightened—but soon, the rest of the memories came surging back.
He remembered Kyle’s solution—and the fear he sensed from the red-eyed creature.
It was Voldemort who was afraid. Because Kyle’s plan was correct: using the Killing Curse to obliterate both consciousnesses inside the body at once.
Even Snape had to admit—it was the most sound and effective choice.
Then came the green flash—that must’ve been the Killing Curse. And the red-eyed monster... Voldemort abandoned him and fled.
The memory ended there. After Voldemort left him behind, Snape fell unconscious again—and then came everything that had just happened.
He lifted his hand and tried to move it... Strange. Why was he still alive?
From the angle and trajectory of the Killing Curse in his memory, Snape couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to survive.
And it wasn’t just him—Voldemort clearly hadn’t expected it either. Otherwise, that monster wouldn’t have fled in such a panic.
But...
Snape instinctively clenched his fists, and that piercing, needle-like pain surged through him again—a pain that came from deep within his soul, the kind of wound left behind when Voldemort forcibly tore his consciousness out.
It was even more unbearable than the pain in his body. Snape gritted his teeth hard, barely managing to keep from crying out.
But even that small movement tugged at the muscles in his face, making it hurt even more.
Still, Snape forced himself to endure it. His lips were pressed into a tight line... Even if he shattered his own teeth, he would never disgrace himself in front of Kyle.
He trembled all over, and it took a long moment before he managed to steady himself.
"You didn’t seem surprised just now, Professor," Kyle said, lowering the camera in his hands with a hint of disappointment. "So I take it you already knew everything I said was true, didn’t you?"
Snape didn’t respond. It was several minutes before he finally opened his mouth, his voice hoarse.
"I remember... you had that witch cast the Killing Curse on me..." He looked down at his body. "So what am I now?"
"Oh, you’re still alive," Kyle interrupted before he could finish.
"Congratulations, Professor. You’ve achieved the same miracle as the The Boy Who Lived—surviving the Killing Curse head-on."
"That’s impossible," Snape said firmly. "No one survives the Killing Curse. The so-called The Boy Who Lived only lived because Lily—someone—used a special protective charm on him."
"You mean Lily Evans, right?"
Kyle spoke as though he hadn’t noticed Snape’s expression growing steadily colder. "Isn’t it possible that you, like Harry, survived the Killing Curse because you were protected by some kind of special magic?"
"That’s impossible..." Snape’s voice faltered. He looked at Kyle with a conflicted expression.
"Don’t get the wrong idea—it wasn’t me, definitely not me," Kyle said quickly, waving his hands.
"It was Kanna who saved you."
"Kanna..." Snape immediately stiffened, his whole body tense as he scanned his surroundings in alarm.
"She’s still at Hogwarts. She’s safe," Kyle said first, then continued, "Do you remember when the two of you crossed paths in that corridor at Hogwarts?"
"What are you getting at?" Snape frowned.
Of course he knew what Kyle was referring to, but he didn’t want to revisit what had happened there—or more precisely, the look of disbelief in Kanna’s eyes when she saw him.
"Actually, even back then, Kanna already knew you weren’t truly a Death Eater," Kyle said, reaching out to point at Snape’s wrist.
"So, before she lost consciousness, she gave you that."
Snape instinctively raised his hand. On his arm were several distinct scratch marks—and a few short black hairs.
"Uh... yeah. Niffler instinct. Couldn’t be helped," Kyle said awkwardly.
Snape said nothing. His eyes had already fallen on the silver phoenix-shaped charm on his wrist.
He was certain he’d never owned such a thing—much less worn it.
"Kanna gave that to you. It’s an alchemical artifact that can repel the Killing Curse."
"What did you say?" Snape snapped his head up. "Repel the Killing Curse..."
"I think she believed you were in more danger on the inside, among the Death Eaters. So she gave it to you, hoping it would save your life at a critical moment."
"You’re sure you’re not lying to me?" Snape still found it hard to believe. "But how could Kanna have something so valuable?"
"Well, that’s actually because of you, Professor," Kyle said, spreading his hands. "Remember that Christmas a few years back, when we planned to visit Nicolas Flamel together?"
That had indeed been years ago.
"Right," Kyle continued. "Back then, you gave her a bottle of Phoenix Potion to give to Nicolas as a Christmas gift. I’m guessing you wanted Nicolas to remember her through the gesture."
"After all, Phoenix Potion is rare—even for someone like Nicolas, who’s lived over six centuries."
Snape didn’t say anything, which was as good as confirmation.
There was no shame in admitting it. Most wizards in the magical world dreamed of meeting Nicolas Flamel. It was a rare opportunity, and it only made sense to prepare something special.
Especially considering his own unusual circumstances—he had more to think about than most.
"You still don’t really understand Nicolas," Kyle said with a sigh. "He’s seen just about everything the world has to offer. How could he possibly accept such an expensive gift from a child?"
Snape’s eye twitched slightly.
What was this boy saying... Of course he didn’t understand Nicolas Flamel. He’d never even met him.
In the entire British magical world, take Dumbledore out of the equation, and the total number of wizards who’d met Nicolas Flamel probably still wouldn’t match how many times Kyle had.
Snape truly couldn’t figure it out—why both Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel placed so much trust in Kyle.
Especially Dumbledore.
From the very beginning, Dumbledore had always focused on Harry. Snape knew that better than anyone. The hidden chamber protecting the Philosopher’s Stone in Harry’s first year had been designed specifically for him—a training ground tailored by Dumbledore.
But at some point, Dumbledore’s attention had gradually shifted toward Kyle. Lately, Harry had been all but left on his own.
And then there was this time...
They were supposed to be dealing with Voldemort—yet Dumbledore had only sent Fawkes to fetch Kyle, without even mentioning Harry.
What happened to their fated rivalry?
Snape shook his head, pushing the thought aside. "Kanna told me Nicolas accepted the potion."
"He did," Kyle replied. "But later, Nicolas turned that Phoenix Potion into an alchemical artifact and gave it back to Kanna as a Christmas gift..."
An alchemical artifact... Snape instinctively looked down.
"Right, the one on your wrist," Kyle said. "Kanna’s been wearing it ever since. She couldn’t take it off, no matter how she tried—just like that Niffler couldn’t pull it off your wrist earlier."
"At first, I thought it only worked for Kanna, but now it seems like it might be tied to bloodline or origin... After all, you’re the one who brewed that Phoenix Potion."
"Wait—how do you know it can’t be taken off?" Snape’s ears twitched slightly. He wasn’t concerned with why the artifact was on him. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Kyle.
"Don’t tell me you had your eye on it," he asked coldly.
"I didn’t," Kyle said, twitching at the corner of his mouth. No matter what, he’d never go after something that belonged to Kanna—especially not something Nicolas gave her for protection.
"Then how do you know?"
"She tried to lend it to me once, but couldn’t take it off."
"There—so you did want it."
"I told you I didn’t." Kyle rubbed his forehead, not understanding why Snape was suddenly hung up on this.
"Fawkes was with me at the time. I didn’t need some alchemical trinket to fend off a Killing Curse."
"Ha. Says you," Snape drawled.
Kyle suddenly regretted saving him. He should’ve let Voldemort stay inside him just a little longer.
And now really wasn’t the time for this nonsense. There were far more important things to figure out—like what Snape and Voldemort were doing here, and why Grindelwald had left Nurmengard...
That thought made Kyle pause.
"Professor Snape... are you trying to change the subject?" he asked quietly. "To distract me from asking about Grindelwald?"
Snape’s expression went cold in an instant. "You don’t need to know. And I won’t be telling you."
"Actually, I’m quite curious myself," came a voice from behind.
"Oh, Kyle, you’ve been hard to track down," Dumbledore said as he approached. He looked Kyle over and couldn’t help but comment, "What were you thinking, letting a Wampus Cat run through the forest with your suitcase?"
"It was safer that way, wasn’t it?" Kyle explained. "Not much is faster than a Wampus Cat. Even if you lost... Grindelwald would—"
He stopped short, mouth snapping shut. Someone else was walking up behind Dumbledore.
"Go on," Grindelwald said with a half-smile, eyes narrowing. "What about me?"
"You... look great," Kyle said, forcing a smile as he glanced helplessly at Dumbledore.
What was going on? They weren’t fighting anymore?
They’d made up?
That couldn’t be right—it didn’t fit Dumbledore at all.
Or maybe... Dumbledore had forgiven Grindelwald because Ariana was still alive?
"Ah, there was no helping it," Dumbledore said with a resigned sigh, clearly picking up on Kyle’s confusion. He raised his hand and waved it forward casually.
His hand passed straight through Kyle’s arm.
"I can’t even hold a wand anymore. There’s no point continuing."
"I see..." Kyle quietly stepped back two paces.
"Relax. Let go of your wand. I’ve no intention of attacking you—for now," Grindelwald said mildly. "I do hope you’ll take my advice. If not... I’m not opposed to changing my mind."
Kyle moved his hand behind his back, slipping his wand back into his sleeve.
It wasn’t fear that held him back—just that Grindelwald was an old man who’d spent seventy years locked away. He could afford to give him a little dignity.
"But why, Professor?" Kyle finally turned to Dumbledore. "If you wanted to find me, you could’ve just sent Fawkes. Why come all the way here?"
"I should clarify—it wasn’t me," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I never said a word. Grindelwald found the Wampus Cat. He opened the suitcase."
"He knows Newt, so he’s very familiar with these magical devices."
"Wait—what about my Wampus Cat?" Kyle asked nervously.
"Don’t worry, he’s fine," Dumbledore assured him.
But before Kyle could relax, Grindelwald’s face appeared directly in front of him.
It looked like he’d made an effort to clean up. His previously gaunt face now had a healthier glow, and his messy hair had been trimmed neatly.
"I have a question," he said, scanning Kyle from head to toe. "Albus Dumbledore never told anyone the location of Nurmengard. You’re the first person to find it.
Tell me—what was it that earned you his favor?"