Dumbledore spoke with Madam Pomfrey for a few more moments before leaving the hospital wing with Kyle. As they walked through the castle, Kyle seized the chance to ask Dumbledore about some issues he’d encountered while practicing magic. Dumbledore, ever patient, answered each of Kyle’s questions generously.
...
Since they were headed in different directions, they soon parted ways, and Dumbledore made his way back to the Headmaster’s Office. When he arrived, Snape was already waiting for him.
“These are the ingredients for the potion,” Snape said, drawing out the words as he slapped a long piece of parchment onto Dumbledore’s desk. “Our Deputy Headmistress mentioned that it contains a lot of rare ingredients and requires your signature.”
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as he picked up the parchment, speaking casually. “Minerva is far too conventional at times. I did tell her long ago that she could handle all of this on her own. After all, it’s only a simple Magic Suppressing Potion. How expensive could it really be...?”
As his eyes scanned the list, Dumbledore’s expression shifted from indifference to surprise.
The list began:
...
This was just a partial list. Numerous other ingredients, totaling around 30, were scribbled beneath.
After reading through the parchment, Dumbledore could feel a headache coming on. Of the top six ingredients listed, only one—Mandrake Root Juice—was actually required for the potion. The rest had absolutely no relevance. And Antipodean Opaleye eggshells? That was a key component for the Strengthening Solution! How had Snape slipped that in, thinking no one would notice?
And the quantities! Fifty ounces of Mandrake Juice? If that much were brewed into the potion, it could supply the entire school—including the faculty—for a whole week.
Then there were the Erumpent horns. The market generally sold them as a powdered ingredient, but Snape had listed five full horns, in their raw, most expensive form. The cost of such an order would be astronomical.
Dumbledore blinked, his brow furrowing. What on earth is going on? Is Snape trying to run an entire potion market through the school budget now?
At this point, Dumbledore fully understood why Snape had come directly to him for a signature. With such an outrageous list of ingredients, there was no way Professor McGonagall would have approved it—or perhaps Snape hadn’t even bothered going to her, knowing she would reject it outright.
"Severus..." Dumbledore deliberated for a moment, deciding to give Snape the benefit of the doubt. He tentatively asked, "Are these really all the ingredients needed for the Magic Suppressing Potion?"
Snape nodded, his expression calm. "Yes, Headmaster."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "And what about the Antipodean Opaleye eggshells?"
Snape's tone remained neutral. "A new recipe I'm experimenting with."
"But the quantity seems... excessive."
"Forgive me, Headmaster," Snape responded matter-of-factly, "It's been quite some time since I brewed a Magic Suppressing Potion. Minor miscalculations are to be expected, so I need to ensure we have sufficient ingredients."
Seeing no immediate reason to argue further, Dumbledore sighed and picked up a scarlet quill, signing the parchment with a couple of swift strokes. "Very well. There seems to be no reason for me to object."
Snape’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of satisfaction crossing his face. "Mr. Mikel will surely appreciate your generosity, Headmaster."
With the parchment full of extravagant ingredients now in his possession, Snape could hardly contain his eagerness. He was more than ready to "prepare" the potion—or perhaps, as Dumbledore suspected, replenish his private stores. Just as he was about to leave, Dumbledore spoke again, his tone seemingly casual.
"Severus, what do you think of young Kyle?"
"Kyle?" Snape's smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of mockery. "Is there yet another scheme in the works, Great Headmaster Dumbledore?"
"No, no, Severus, you've misunderstood." Dumbledore smiled mildly. "It’s just the natural curiosity of a headmaster who sees promise in an outstanding student. You needn’t answer if you don’t wish to."
Dumbledore then casually grabbed a cockroach-shaped candy from his desk and popped it into his mouth. He held out one to Snape, adding playfully, "Care for one? They’re quite delicious."
Snape recoiled slightly, his face twisting with disgust. "No, thank you." He could never comprehend Dumbledore’s peculiar taste for such bizarre sweets, especially when there were so many more palatable options in the wizarding world. The candy looked even more revolting than Flobberworm slime.
Unperturbed by Snape’s reaction, Dumbledore continued, as if speaking to himself, "Kind, brave, honest, unflappable in a crisis—Hogwarts hasn’t seen such an exceptional first-year in quite some time. I remember his mother, Diana, was also in Slytherin. She was only a year ahead of you, if I recall."
"Shut up!" Snape’s face twisted in sudden fury, his eyes darkening. "Never mention that name in front of me again, never!"
His last words were practically shouted, causing the portraits of past headmasters to grumble in irritation. They chastised Snape for his outburst, scolding him for his disrespect toward the current headmaster. But Snape ignored them completely. If he had no qualms about yelling at Dumbledore, he certainly wasn’t going to worry about the opinions of a few paintings.
He only called them “headmasters” out of courtesy; to him, without that respect, they were just pieces of canvas, no more useful than paper to wipe a cauldron.
Dumbledore, unfazed by Snape’s outburst or the chattering portraits, sighed softly. "I didn’t expect that, after all this time, you would still hold onto those memories. But Severus, I still believe you were in the wrong. Diana was a wonderful girl, with a good heart. If you hadn’t used that word to insult Chris, she wouldn’t have hounded you in the common room day after day..."
Bang!
A deafening door slam cut Dumbledore off mid-sentence. The noise startled Fawkes, the phoenix, from her nap, prompting her to flap her wings in displeasure at Snape's retreating figure.
"Pfft..." A rotund portrait of a past headmaster suddenly let out a chuckle, unable to hold back. But when Dumbledore cast a playful glance in his direction, the painted figure quickly covered his mouth and scampered off to another frame, clearly embarrassed.
Dumbledore, shaking his head slightly, soothed the ruffled portrait and muttered to himself, "Really, the older I get, the more I seem to enjoy reminiscing about the past..."
“Hmph, hypocrite,” came a sneering voice from the wall. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, a former headmaster with a goatee, glared at Dumbledore. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You intended to provoke him. All Snape wanted was a little extra potion ingredients. What’s the big deal? Back in my day as headmaster, this sort of thing was routine. But you—wait! Dumbledore, what are you doing? I’ll stop, don’t come over here!”