"But they're all in Azkaban."
"Then I have no idea," Snape replied flatly.
Dumbledore nodded with faint regret. "Very well. It seems I shall have to seek other methods."
As Dumbledore reached the doorway, preparing to leave, Snape suddenly spoke.
"You dislike these troublesome affairs, don't you? Why take the initiative to help this time?"
"Fudge's request was rather difficult to refuse." Dumbledore gave a helpless shrug. Then he looked at Snape and said softly, "But I believe that now their objective has been achieved, they will not act again. After some time, Fudge will calm down and forget about this matter. What do you think, Severus?"
"Politicians are all the same, aren't they? Safe journey." Snape raised his cup in farewell.
"Goodbye. I shall see you at the start of term."
Bang.
The door closed.
Snape calmly drank cup after cup of black tea. Only after confirming that Dumbledore would not return did he collapse onto the sofa, utterly drained. His back was already soaked through with sweat.
"That old…" he muttered under his breath.
"That child… has he already become this terrifying?"
Walking along the dimly lit street, Dumbledore suddenly let out a quiet sigh.
Some things did not need to be spoken aloud. Not every matter required concrete evidence. Dumbledore had already determined who was responsible for the attack.
To put it somewhat dramatically, he had watched nearly every British wizard of the past century grow up before his eyes. He knew what kind of person each one was, and roughly how capable.
Not just Death Eaters. Looking across the entirety of Britain, those capable of such a feat were few. Alastor Moody would count as one. Several old comrades from the original Order of the Phoenix would qualify. As for the rest… merely thinking about it sufficed.
Add motive into the equation, and the answer became even clearer.
One of the attackers was Severus Snape.
The other… was Tom.
In Dumbledore's estimation, Snape had likely sought Tom out for assistance. He never guessed that, in pursuit of profit, a certain young man had whispered like a devil into a professor's ear, igniting the killing intent buried deep in his heart.
But knowing was one thing.
Dumbledore could not accuse Snape based solely on his own deductions. Even if he had solid proof, he would pretend to know nothing.
The guilty party was dead. The innocent Aurors remained unharmed. Such an outcome was acceptable to him. His final act had been nothing more than a subtle warning, a reminder to Snape not to go too far.
That was the end of it.
What truly unsettled him was Tom's rate of growth. Almost single handedly, he had overwhelmed ten Aurors in seconds. In the reconstructed memory, Snape had practically been a background figure.
"I must pay closer attention to my students' psychological well being," Dumbledore sighed soundlessly. With a faint shimmer, his figure vanished from the worn streets of Spinner's End.
...
Meanwhile, Tom had also received Snape's warning.
[Snape: Dumbledore came to see me. He's already guessed it was my doing. You likely won't escape suspicion either. Keep your mouth shut. As long as we deny everything, this has nothing to do with us.]
[Tom: What does it have to do with me? You were the one who launched the ambush. You were the one who killed him. I'm just an innocent student dragged into this mess. I have no idea what you're talking about.]
Ignoring Snape, who was on the verge of exploding with rage, Tom continued eating snacks and watching his soap opera.
He had never expected to conceal the truth from the seasoned and razor sharp Dumbledore. In fact, Dumbledore had been extraordinary since youth. No one else could converse with ancient wizards in their hundreds while still in their teens, earning admiration and goodwill from nearly everyone.
But Tom was not worried.
He had already figured the old Headmaster out. As long as you did not cross his bottom line, you could jump about as you pleased. Dumbledore might even be secretly pleased right now.
After all, what had Tom done?
He had embodied the very ideal of profound teacher student loyalty. To avenge Professor Snape, he had dared to provoke even the Ministry's Aurors. Was that not precisely the quality Dumbledore most wished to see in him?
Deep affection. Courage. Devotion.
So let the Headmaster worry himself sleepless.
Tom intended to savor these remaining days of holiday leisure.
Unfortunately, on the very second morning of his intended laziness, someone knocked on his door.
Amelia Bones looked exhausted, travel worn and pale. Upon seeing Tom, she forced a faint smile.
"I'm here to give you money again."
"One hundred anti curse cloaks. One hundred Vigilant Eyes. And the highest grade protective necklaces. I know you never sell those, but Fudge has given me strict orders. I must bring back at least ten. You…"
Her voice trailed off awkwardly. She was asking Tom to break his own principles. Naturally she felt uncomfortable.
Honest Hufflepuff…
Tom suddenly realized something. Beyond technology and finance, arms dealing was also a tremendously profitable business.
This time, he was eating from both sides. First from Snape, now from the Ministry.
The most efficient way to plunder resources was to incite war…
The dark thought flickered through his mind before he pressed it down. For now, dealing with Amelia Bones was more important.
He feigned surprise. "Such a large order all at once? I'll need some time to prepare."
"The sooner the better. It's urgent," Bones urged, though she understood the difficulty.
"What exactly happened?" Tom pressed.
After hesitating for a moment, she told him the truth. Tom was her biggest benefactor. Even if Fudge had strictly forbidden her from speaking, she felt it necessary. It was a matter of principle. Besides, she believed such matters should not be concealed. The public had the right to know.
After listening, Tom looked speechless. He casually tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table.
"You're being so secretive over something like this? Isn't it already printed here?"
Bones leaned closer to look.
Her expression turned peculiar.
Then she burst out laughing.