The dungeon classroom beneath Hogwarts Castle was filled with the familiar scents of herbs, crushed roots, and simmering potions.
Glass vials clinked quietly.
Cauldrons bubbled.
Students whispered nervously.
At the front of the room stood Severus Snape, robes sweeping behind him like shadows as he paced between the desks.
His voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade.
“If you cannot distinguish between crushed and powdered valerian root,” he said coldly, “then you will undoubtedly poison yourselves before the term is finished.”
Several students shrank slightly.
A Gryffindor dropped a stirring rod.
Snape’s dark eyes flicked toward the noise.
“Five points from Gryffindor.”
No one protested.
No one ever did.
Among the students, Mira Silverthorne stirred her potion carefully while Pip the Niffler peeked curiously from the edge of her bag.
Beside her sat Draco Malfoy, who appeared entirely unconcerned about losing house points.
Snape turned toward the chalkboard and began writing the final steps of the Draught of Calm.
His handwriting, normally precise and controlled—
Wavered.
Just slightly.
No one noticed.
Except Mira.
She frowned faintly.
Snape continued explaining the final stage of the potion, “Allow the mixture to simmer precisely thirty seconds before adding—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
The classroom fell silent.
Snape’s hand pressed briefly against the desk.
His breathing had become slightly uneven.
Mira’s eyes widened.
Draco whispered, “Is he…?”
Snape straightened again, clearly attempting to ignore whatever had just happened.
“Before adding the powdered moonstone,” he finished.
But his voice lacked its usual sharp edge.
He turned again—
And the world tilted.
The next moment happened so quickly the class barely understood it.
Snape staggered.
His hand reached for the desk.
Missed.
And the Potions Master of Hogwarts collapsed onto the stone floor.
Gasps erupted across the dungeon.
Several cauldrons nearly tipped over as students jumped back in shock.
“Professor!”
Mira was already moving.
She knelt beside him quickly.
Snape’s eyes were closed.
His breathing was shallow.
“Draco,” she said calmly, “get Professor McGonagall.”
Draco didn’t argue.
He ran.
Within minutes, Snape had been levitated onto a stretcher and rushed through the castle corridors.
Students stared as the unconscious professor passed.
At the Hospital Wing, Poppy Pomfrey took immediate charge.
“Set him here.”
She waved her wand quickly.
Diagnostic charms shimmered across Snape’s body in waves of pale blue light.
Her expression shifted from concern—
To deep disapproval.
Moments later Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore arrived.
“What happened?” McGonagall demanded.
Pomfrey crossed her arms, “What happened is that Professor Snape has been working himself into the ground.” She tapped her wand against her palm, “He is suffering from severe exhaustion.”
Dumbledore sighed softly, “I suspected as much.”
Pomfrey continued firmly, “Sleep deprivation. Magical fatigue. Overuse of advanced potioncraft.” She looked pointedly at Snape, “And quite possibly too much caffeine.”
Snape’s eyes opened slowly.
His voice was hoarse, “I am… perfectly capable of teaching.”
Pomfrey glared at him, “You are perfectly capable of fainting in front of your students.”
Snape tried to sit up.
Pomfrey pushed him back down, “You will remain here. For at least one week.”
Snape looked like someone had just suggested burning the castle down, “A week?”
“Yes.”
“Impossible.”
Pomfrey folded her arms, “You collapsed in the middle of class.”
Snape glared at the ceiling, “I slipped.”
Dumbledore chuckled softly, “My dear Severus, gravity rarely attacks professors without assistance.”
Snape sighed deeply.
After a long moment, he relented, “Very well.”
McGonagall paced beside the bed, “This presents a difficulty.”
Snape glanced at her, “My absence will not destroy the curriculum.”
McGonagall gave him a sharp look, “It will if we cannot find someone capable of teaching Potions at your level.” She shook her head, “It would be impossible to find a suitable substitute on such short notice.”
Students and teachers rarely matched Snape’s mastery.
The silence stretched.
Then—
A small voice spoke from near the doorway.
“Actually…”
Everyone turned.
Mira Silverthorne stood there.
“I think I know someone who could help,” Mira said carefully.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”
Mira nodded, “My mother, Elarisse Silverthorne.”
Snape’s head turned immediately.
Recognition flashed in his eyes.
Mira continued, “She’s a master alchemist. She studied advanced potioncraft in France and Britain. And she knows the Hogwarts curriculum.”
Snape spoke quietly, “She does.”
McGonagall blinked.
Dumbledore smiled knowingly, “Yes… Elarisse Silverthorne.”
Snape folded his arms slightly, “She is one of the few alchemists capable of replicating my brewing methods.”
Mira nodded, “She also helped design several of them.”
McGonagall considered the situation carefully and then nodded slowly, “Very well, I will send an owl.”
Dumbledore smiled warmly, “I suspect she will be delighted to assist.”
As the professors began leaving the hospital wing, McGonagall paused near the door.
She turned back briefly.
And overheard something unexpected.
Mira approached Snape’s bedside.
Her voice softened, “You really scared us today.”
Snape looked faintly embarrassed, “That was not my intention.”
Mira smiled gently, “Get some rest, Uncle Sev.”
McGonagall froze.
Uncle…?
Snape sighed quietly, “I will.” His expression softened, “I promise, Little Serpent.”
Mira nodded approvingly.
Outside the hospital wing, McGonagall stood silently for a moment.
Dumbledore noticed her expression, “Something amusing, Minerva?”
She shook her head slowly, “I just learned something… unexpected.”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled, “Ah.”
“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “Severus does have a rather small circle of people he trusts.”
Back inside the hospital wing, Snape finally closed his eyes. Somnus the Dream Weaver Moth perched near his bed. Pomfrey wanted him there to make sure that Snape would get rest if he refused to.
Pomfrey adjusted the blankets firmly, “You will rest. Refuse, Somnus will force you to sleep.”
He muttered faintly, “Yes, Madam Pomfrey.”
Across the castle, an owl sped through the evening sky carrying a letter.
Soon—
A master alchemist would arrive at Hogwarts.
And the dungeons would gain a teacher unlike any they had seen before.
Before leaving, Mira glanced back once more.
Snape had already fallen asleep. Somnus perched on the bedframe, watching over Snape.
For once—
The dungeon master looked peaceful.
Mira smiled quietly, “Goodnight, Uncle Sev.”
And for the first time in many years—
Severus Snape allowed himself something rare.
Rest.
Morning mist drifted across the grounds of Hogwarts Castle, curling around towers and stone bridges like pale ribbons of fog.
The castle stirred slowly to life.
Students hurried through corridors clutching books.
Owls swooped toward the Owlery.
And far above the courtyard, a sleek grey owl descended toward the Headmaster’s tower carrying a letter sealed with silver wax.
Inside the tower, Albus Dumbledore accepted the letter with quiet anticipation.
He broke the seal carefully.
A small smile appeared on his face as he read.
“Well,” he murmured, “She is coming.”
Across the castle, word spread quickly among the professors.
The substitute for Severus Snape had accepted.
And she would arrive before the next Potions class.
Down in the Slytherin Common Room, the news had already reached the students.
Draco Malfoy leaned back in a chair near the green-lit windows that looked into the depths of the Black Lake.
“So,” he said thoughtfully, “your mother is replacing Professor Snape.”
Across from him, Mira Silverthorne stirred honey into her tea.
“Just for the week.”
Several nearby Slytherins were listening closely.
Theo Nott leaned forward, “Is she strict?”
Draco smirked.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1k5dEjHX2K
Mira chuckled softly, “She’s… precise.”
“What does that mean?” Daphne Greengrass asked.
Mira thought about it for a moment, “It means if your potion explodes, she’ll calmly explain exactly which mistake caused it.”
“And then make you brew it again until you get it right.” Draco added.
Blaise groaned, “Brilliant.”
Pip the Niffler popped his head from Mira’s satchel, “Mrrp!”
He seemed excited.
Later that morning, the courtyard outside Hogwarts echoed with the sound of hooves.
Students leaning from tower windows spotted the arrival first.
A sleek black carriage pulled by two enormous silver-winged thestrals glided across the courtyard stones.
It stopped before the great doors.
The carriage door opened.
And a tall woman stepped out.
Her raven black hair flowed like dark silk down her back.
Her emerald green eyes gleamed with intelligence and quiet power.
Her robes were deep midnight blue trimmed with silver runic embroidery.
Students fell silent.
She carried herself with calm elegance that reminded many of both McGonagall and Snape.
But there was also something warmer in her presence.
Something quietly reassuring.
This was Elarisse Silverthorne.
Before entering the dungeons, Elarisse walked directly toward the Hospital Wing.
Inside, Poppy Pomfrey was adjusting potions near Snape’s bedside. Somnus perched on the bedframe like a sentry.
Snape looked considerably better than the previous day.
But he still looked annoyed.
The door opened.
Snape looked up.
For a moment—
His expression softened in surprise, “Elarisse.”
She smiled warmly, “Severus.” She stepped closer and examined him with the calm precision of a healer, “You collapsed.”
“I slipped.”
She raised an eyebrow, “Mm.”
Pomfrey snorted quietly.
Elarisse crossed her arms, “You look terrible.”
Snape sighed, “You always say that.”
“Because it’s usually true.”
Despite himself, Snape almost smiled.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvnKbALqLMB
Elarisse pulled a chair beside the bed, “You should have written sooner.”
Snape looked mildly defensive, “I was managing.”
“Clearly.”
She glanced at Pomfrey, “How long is he imprisoned here?”
“Seven days minimum,” Pomfrey replied firmly.
Elarisse nodded approvingly.
“Good.”
Snape muttered something unintelligible.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlr39UATwGs
After a moment Snape spoke quietly, “You will be teaching my classes.”
“Yes.”
“The lab must be kept in order.”
“I know.”
“No unauthorized ingredients.”
“Of course.”
He paused.
Then said something very quietly, “I trust you.”
Elarisse met his eyes, “I know you do.”
The dungeon classroom buzzed with nervous anticipation.
Students whispered as they waited.
Blaise leaned toward Mira, “I hope she’s nicer than Snape.”
Mira laughed softly.
The door opened.
Elarisse Silverthorne entered.
Silence fell instantly.
She moved with calm confidence toward the front of the classroom.
Her emerald eyes swept across the room, “Good morning.”
Her voice was smooth and steady, “I am Elarisse Silverthorne.” She set a stack of parchment on the desk, “I will be instructing your Potions classes while Professor Snape recovers.”
Several students straightened immediately.
Something about her presence commanded attention without effort.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK81ZpF3cMM
Elarisse picked up a vial of shimmering blue liquid, “Today we will brew the Draught of Clarity.” She turned the vial slowly so the light reflected through it.
“Potioncraft is not simply a recipe.”
“It is a conversation between magic and matter.”
Students leaned forward.
Even Draco looked interested.
Elarisse continued, “You must understand what each ingredient does.”
“Why it reacts.”
“Why it changes.”
Her eyes sparkled slightly.
“Otherwise you are merely stirring soup.”
Several students chuckled.
Elarisse began brewing the potion herself.
Her movements were flawless.
Precise.
Elegant.
Within minutes the potion shimmered with perfect clarity.
Students stared in amazement.
Even those who normally hated Potions were captivated.
Draco whispered, “She’s incredible.”
Mira smiled, “I told you.”
Under Elarisse’s guidance, the dungeon classroom felt different.
Less tense.
But somehow even more focused.
She corrected mistakes gently but firmly.
She explained the magical theory behind every reaction.
When Neville Longbottom accidentally added too much lavender oil—
She calmly showed him how to rebalance the mixture. Anemone the Venomshade Serpent stepped in as well.
The potion stabilized.
Neville nearly fainted with relief.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU09uo4EcCM
Dusk settled gently over Hogwarts Castle, painting the tall windows in shades of violet and gold.
Inside the quiet Hospital Wing, the usual bustle of the day had faded.
Beds were neatly arranged.
Curtains rustled softly in the evening breeze.
And at the far end of the ward lay Severus Snape, propped against several pillows with a thick book resting in his lap. Somnus the Dream Weaver Moth was perched on his shoulder.
He looked… better.
Not entirely recovered.
But the gray exhaustion that had hollowed his face after his collapse had begun to fade.
Still, Snape was clearly not pleased about being confined.
His dark eyes scanned the page in front of him with his usual intensity, though every so often he paused to rub the bridge of his nose.
The door to the ward opened quietly.
Soft footsteps entered.
Snape didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
He had already recognized the faint scent of herbs and moonflower tea drifting through the air.
“Elarisse.”
Elarisse Silverthorne stepped into the lamplight.
Her raven-black hair was loosely braided tonight, falling over one shoulder.
Her emerald green eyes glowed warmly as she approached the bedside.
In her hands she carried a small silver tray.
A teapot rested on it, steam rising gently from the spout.
Two delicate cups clinked softly as she set the tray on the bedside table.
“You should be resting,” she said calmly.
Snape closed the book, “I have been resting.”
Elarisse raised an eyebrow, “You have been reading.”
“That counts.”
She poured the tea without comment.
The scent filled the air immediately.
Chamomile.
Lavender.
Moonpetal.
And something deeper—an alchemical blend meant to restore magical stamina.
Snape noticed at once, “You enhanced it.”
“Of course I did.” She handed him the cup.
Snape studied the liquid for a moment.
The tea shimmered faintly with soft silver light.
“Your work,” he said quietly, “has not grown less impressive.”
Elarisse smiled faintly, “And your skepticism has not diminished.”
Snape took a careful sip.
The warmth spread through him immediately.
Not just warmth.
Energy.
The subtle strengthening of magical reserves.
He exhaled slowly, “That is… effective.”
Elarisse leaned back in her chair, “I assumed it would be.”
For a few moments, silence settled between them.
It was not an uncomfortable silence.
The kind that exists between people who have known each other for many years.
Finally, Snape spoke, “Thank you.”
Elarisse tilted her head, “For what?”
“For substituting for me.” Snape clarified.
Her expression softened, “You would have done the same.”
Snape didn’t deny it.
Still, he added quietly, “The dungeons are not easy to manage.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Most professors struggle to maintain discipline.”
Elarisse smiled slightly, “The students have been quite manageable.”
Snape looked mildly surprised, “They have?”
“Yes.” She took a sip of her own tea, “I suspect they are simply curious about a new teacher.”
Snape muttered, “That curiosity usually fades.”54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVDGGjuuAO9
Elarisse rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, “I’ve been enjoying it.”
Snape blinked, “Enjoying teaching?”
“Yes.”
“That is… unexpected.”
She laughed softly, “Not everyone approaches education as a battlefield, Severus.”
Snape folded his arms, “Potions is a battlefield.”
“For careless students, perhaps.”
She smiled knowingly, “But the curious ones are delightful.” Her emerald eyes sparkled slightly, “Your Slytherins are particularly sharp.”
Snape looked faintly pleased despite himself, “They are.”54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ93EU4Gbox
Elarisse glanced toward the window thoughtfully, “Mira told me you were pleased about her sorting.”
Snape’s expression shifted.
Something thoughtful.
Something almost proud.
“Yes.” He said it simply, “I knew she would be sorted into Slytherin House.”
Elarisse chuckled softly, “So did I.”
Snape leaned back against the pillows, “She possesses the necessary qualities.”
“Intelligence.”
“Patience.”
“And ambition.”
Elarisse added gently, “And kindness.”
Snape’s lips twitched faintly. “Yes. That as well.”54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc4Iv2cyhIm
Somnus nudged Snape's hand on the bed. Snape stiffened for a moment. Then he gently petted Somnus's head who closed its eyes in delight.
Snape took another sip of the tea.
“When she was younger,” he said quietly, “you once told me she would end up in my house.”
Elarisse smiled at the memory, “She was five.”
“And already organizing the other children into study groups.”
Snape nodded, “She also corrected one of my potion ratios.”
Elarisse laughed, “She told me about that.”
“She was right.”
“Of course she was.” Snape stared thoughtfully into the teacup. “She still calls me Uncle Sev.”
Elarisse’s smile widened. “Yes.”
“That is your fault.”
“Probably.”
Snape sighed quietly. “I do not mind it.”
Elarisse looked pleased. “I suspected you wouldn’t.”
He glanced toward the ceiling, “She has a remarkable mind.”
“And an unfortunate talent for attracting unusual creatures.”
Elarisse laughed softly, “That trait comes from her father.”
Snape raised an eyebrow, “I suspected as much.”
The evening grew quieter as the castle settled for the night.
Far away, footsteps echoed through distant corridors.
Snape spoke again, “You should be proud of her.”
Elarisse’s expression softened deeply, “I am. She has accomplished more in a few months than most students manage in years.”
Snape nodded slightly, “She will go far.”
Elarisse gathered the teacups once they were empty.
Snape already looked more relaxed.
Less pale.
Less exhausted.
The tea had done its work.
“Thank you,” he said again.
She waved the gratitude away.
“Just recover.”
“I will.”
She stood and adjusted the tray.
“I’ll return tomorrow with another blend.”
Snape smirked faintly.
“Madam Pomfrey will approve.”
“Yes,” Elarisse said lightly.
“She already does.”54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfQF87QFWm9
Before leaving, Elarisse paused beside the bed.
“Get some sleep, Severus.”
He closed his eyes.
“I will.”
Then he added quietly,
“The dungeons are in good hands.”
Elarisse smiled.
“They always were.”
The door closed softly behind her.
And for the first time since his collapse—
Severus Snape slept without interruption.
While somewhere deep in the castle, his goddaughter—the Little Serpent of Slytherin—continued exploring the wonders of Hogwarts.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL6N0iYLGgE
A Week Later:
The dungeons of Hogwarts were unusually calm that morning.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIHSnyUUYlb
The flickering torchlight reflected softly against the stone walls, and the bubbling of cauldrons filled the air with a familiar, comforting aroma.
At the front of the classroom, Severus Snape stood straight and tall, his dark robes flowing perfectly over the floor. The pallor of exhaustion that had plagued him for days was gone. His eyes, sharp and calculating, held the same intensity they had always had, but there was now a subtle lightness about them, a sign that rest and care had begun to heal both body and mind.
Mira Silverthorne sat near the front of the classroom, her silver-white hair tied in a neat hairbun with the delicate hairpin Draco had given her for her birthday, teal eyes bright with curiosity as she meticulously prepared her cauldron. Pip the Niffler peeked out from the corner of her sanctuary suitcase, twitching his whiskers with excitement as always.
Draco Malfoy lounged nearby, observing the room with his usual air of bored entitlement. “Do you think he’s finally back to normal?” he whispered to Mira.
Mira’s lips curved slightly. “He’s back. But I think he’s still a little wary.”
Indeed, Snape’s eyes scanned the classroom, observing every student, every bubbling potion, every whisper, before settling on Mira briefly. A faint acknowledgment passed between them, one that only they understood: the Small Serpent of Slytherin had been a guiding presence while he recovered, ensuring no student faltered in his absence.
Just as the first years were beginning to arrange their ingredients, the familiar, confident footsteps of Elarisse Silverthorne echoed down the stone corridor.
Her raven-black hair gleamed in the dungeon light, emerald eyes scanning the room with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold stone walls. In her hand was a small, polished satchel containing herbs, small vials, and neatly rolled parchments—her notes for a morning of consultations and reminders.
“Professor Snape,” she said as she entered, her voice calm yet carrying a hint of the authority that came with decades of mastery over potioncraft and alchemy.
Snape, finishing a brief demonstration of proper cauldron stirring technique, nodded curtly. “Elarisse,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I… I wanted to thank you again for substituting while I was indisposed. Your work has been… exceptional.”
Elarisse inclined her head gracefully. “It was no trouble, Severus. I enjoyed teaching your students. They are quite gifted—especially Mira.”
Snape’s eyes darkened slightly with thought. “I was worried about the dungeons while I was away, but you handled everything flawlessly. Even the younger students did not stumble once under your guidance.”
Elarisse smiled faintly. “The preparation and attentiveness of a teacher can only go so far; your students are talented. Mira, in particular, makes an excellent intermediary.” She set down her satchel on a nearby desk, producing a small cup of calming tea for Snape. The brew shimmered with soft gold and silver threads, a delicate combination of chamomile, moonpetal, and rare alchemical infusions designed to restore energy and fortify magical stamina.
Snape took the cup carefully. “I see you have brought another one of your… remedies.”
She nodded. “Indeed. But I trust you will not overuse it. You must take care of yourself, Severus. Or,” she added, her emerald eyes narrowing playfully, “I shall have to substitute for you for a month next time.”
Snape’s lips twitched into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. “A month?”
“Yes.” She smiled warmly. “Your students would benefit, certainly, but I’m sure the dungeons would find me far more… disciplined than you.”
Snape sighed, a sound that carried both resignation and quiet amusement, “Very well. I will take care of myself. Mira is currently ensuring that I do, I suppose.”
Elarisse’s eyes softened with satisfaction. “Good. That pleases me.”54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPXcdL2zJ4M
Snape glanced toward the front of the classroom where Mira was carefully measuring powdered ingredients into her cauldron. Pip peeked from the edge of her sanctuary suitcase, tail flicking in anticipation.
“She has a remarkable mind,” Snape admitted quietly. “And a remarkable sense of responsibility for one so young.”
Elarisse’s gaze followed his. “I knew she would be sorted into Slytherin,” she said confidently. “Her intellect, her ambition, and her instinct for leadership—all of it aligns with your house. I suspected it from the day she demonstrated her first potion adjustment under my supervision.”
Snape’s lips tightened thoughtfully. “I knew she would be as well. The sorting ceremony only confirmed what her actions had already suggested.”
Elarisse nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “She has your precision, your focus… and yet the compassion to balance it.”
Snape’s eyes softened slightly as he regarded Mira, who was now carefully noting down observations in a small, leather-bound notebook. “She is… exceptional.”54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOSJQeoy72N
Elarisse extended her hand toward him, not in formality, but as a gesture of true friendship. He gently took her hand and shook it, “It was a pleasure to substitute for you. You have entrusted me with your students and your laboratory. That is a rare trust, Severus, and I did my best to honor it.”
Snape nodded solemnly. “And you have. I am grateful—more than I can express.”
A moment of quiet understanding passed between them, the kind that only old friends with shared histories could experience.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCuN6U0jEEd
Elarisse collected her satchel and prepared to leave.
“Before I go,” she said gently, “Severus, when Christmas arrives, you must visit the Silverthorne Manor. My husband, Alaric, and I will have tea ready. It would do you good to see the family… and to rest outside the dungeons for a while.”
Snape’s usual composure cracked into a faint, rare chuckle. “I shall come,” he said quietly. “And I shall keep Mira out of trouble, as best I can manage.”
Elarisse’s smile widened. “I am confident you will, though I suspect Mira has a plan to ensure your well-being regardless.”
Snape inclined his head slightly. “Indeed.”
They exchanged a brief, knowing look, the kind that spoke of mutual respect, friendship, and the unspoken acknowledgement of shared secrets.
As Elarisse turned to leave, she looked back once more, “Take care of yourself, Severus. And do not push your limits unnecessarily.”
Snape lifted his cup in quiet acknowledgment. “I promise. I will heed your advice.”
Elarisse smiled and departed, her footsteps fading down the dungeon corridor.
Snape sat back against the pillows, inhaling slowly.
For the first time in several weeks, he felt a measure of calm.
Not only had his students been well cared for, but a trusted friend had ensured that the dungeons remained in order.
And, most importantly, Mira Silverthorne was thriving under guidance, growing into the Slytherin she had always been destined to become.
Snape took a careful sip of the tea she had prepared.
A faint warmth spread through him—not only from the brew but from the certainty that the castle, the students, and the delicate balance of Hogwarts magic were safe in the hands of those he trusted.
The week of rest, the careful oversight, and the quiet interventions of his old friend had reminded him: even the most exacting master of potions must occasionally allow care and compassion to work their quiet magic.
And he would, indeed, honor that promise—not just for himself, but for Mira, for the dungeons, and for Hogwarts itself.
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