Chapter 143: 5-2
Harry finally succeeded in extracting the memory from Slughorn. My fear that I wouldn't be able to attend Aragog's funeral because I had never met him was surprisingly dispelled by Anthony. Well-informed Anthony leaked to me that Hagrid was depressed over losing his pet. According to him, he was "just desperately looking for something to talk to Maria about," but I suspect it's definitely just a habit of his. He seems far better suited to being a reporter than a scholar.
Based on Anthony's information, I sent Harry off after having him drink Felix Felicis. The next day, I saw Harry looking full of accomplishment after obtaining the final memory of Riddle. Dumbledore must have entered the final phase of his remaining days. With no more interference, preparations were proceeding unnaturally smoothly.
"In the end, we still haven't figured out what Dumbledore is doing behind the scenes, though."
"I'm used to your secretive nature, but that old man is quite something too."
"Well, I was trained by Dumbledore, after all."
I pinched the cheek of Draco, who was growing as resentful of Dumbledore as ever. He pinched mine back. We were thoroughly lulled into a sense of peaceful oblivion.
"The Vanishing Cabinet definitely can't be used. I'd like to believe we managed to postpone the fall of Hogwarts at least a little bit."
"I hope Professor Snape's hardships pay off because of this."
"Yeah. He does have a habit of taking everything upon himself."
"You're one to talk."
"Fair point."
My shoulders shook with a quiet chuckle. We couldn't afford to grow comfortable in this eerie quiet. Tragedy always lurks behind happiness.
Whatever was controlling Astoria, Theodore's true intentions, and the presence of the Augurey that might be connected to everything—not a single thing had been solved yet.
Dumbledore's death was drawing closer by the second.
"Where is your brother?"
"Huh?"
Stunned by the unexpected voice, I stood frozen. The man standing ahead also looked somehow out of place. His dark, abyss-like eyes wavered, seeping with fatigue.
"Professor Snape."
To think that you—would actually call out to me, Maria. It had been since the incident with the locket that I had spoken to him so directly, one-on-one.
"If you mean Harry, he's at Quidditch practice... Did you need something? Should I go fetch him?"
"There is no need. ...I merely thought it unusual to see you alone."
"Oh."
Naturally, the conversation died there. Setting myself aside, this man was a misanthrope who spewed sarcasm whenever he opened his mouth. Though his silver tongue was sophisticated enough to manage being a double agent, at his core, he was hopelessly awkward. As I watched Professor Snape's back as he began walking away after stopping me, his robes came to a halt once more.
"...Do you care for your brother?"
"Of course I do."
I nodded toward his jet-black back.
"...If you were to lose your brother—"
"───"
Ah—I see. So this man has found out. Harry's ultimate fate. Dumbledore's "preparations" had advanced that far.
"Professor."
I tried to take a step forward. My feet wouldn't move.
"Professor—I know."
Snape turned around.
"I know full well."
Snape was—furious.
"Is that why he—Dumbledore is trying to turn even you into a soldier?!"
"Professor."
"I was commanded to protect the students. Why are you not included among them? Why does he—"
"Professor."
I tried my best to smile at this kind man who was shaken, enraged, and selfishly pouring out his emotions.
"Professor, you must realize it by now. —I am not just a child."
"──"
"I am not a child you need to protect."
At the very least, I want to slip out of your scarred hands. I want to hold those hands from the outside. ...Though you would surely hate that. If Harry is the shackle keeping you alive, then I want to be the one who strips away your pain. Arrogantly, haughtily, cruelly.
"Professor Snape."
"...No."
Professor Snape spoke with emotionless eyes, as if spitting out vomit.
"You are a child."
"Professor..."
"You are Lily Evans's child!!"
It was a shock. So this is what it feels like to be struck by lightning, a corner of my mind whispered. Snape was now casting aside even his heavy hair, laying bare the heart he had kept locked away.
"I do not care what you are on the inside! Even if you are a monster, what of it?! If Lily loved you—if she cherished you as her own child—then you are Maria Potter and nothing else! How dare a fool who doesn't even understand this claim not to be a child?!"
"............"
"I must protect—what she died to protect—!"
I tried to take a step forward. My feet moved.
"Professor Snape."
I grabbed his hand as he tried to pull away. It reached. This time—my hand finally reached.
"Professor... That's the first time you've called me that."
"Wh—"
"That's right. I am Maria. The child of Mother Lily, whom you loved with all your heart, and James Potter, whom you hated with all your heart. ...At last, you really see me."
Maria was reflected in those dark eyes. I was right there, as I had been all along.
"You said you wanted to die at my hands. I thought that was completely unforgivable. Would the kind Lily have granted that wish, I wonder? But no, I won't. Because I am Maria. Neither Lily nor James, but Maria—the child of Lily and James. That's why I will never give you sympathy. I will make sure you survive, no matter what."
It wasn't sympathy, or regret, or any such soggy emotion. I just couldn't forgive you. You, who looked into my eyes only to gaze at the person beyond them, satisfied with that. You, who got away with an easy escape. A pure rage—one that neither Sirius nor Dumbledore possessed—was driving me.
"If I'm going to be hated anyway—you might as well learn just how persistent I can be, Severus Snape."
Snape stared at my hazel eyes, his own widening like a child's. Then he sneered sarcastically.
"As I thought... dresses do not suit you."
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