When the oak door opened, Dumbledore was sitting behind his broad desk, the afterglow of the sunset shining upon the silver instruments that spun ceaselessly upon it.
"Severus," he looked up and said gently, "I've been in contact with some old friends, among them are people who know Nagini. We're trying to find a solution together."
"People who know Nagini?" Snape asked, though he already had a faint guess in his heart. "Who are they?"
"Nicolas Flamel," Dumbledore said. "You've heard of him, I believe."
"Yes," Snape said, it was indeed the owner of the Philosopher's Stone. "Professor, I came here hoping you could help me craft a Portkey, one that can return me to Hogwarts."
"What do you intend to use it for?" Dumbledore asked.
"To come back from Malfoy Manor, just in case," Snape said bluntly. He was not worried about leaks, though the Malfoy family had a long history, none of them had ever been Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Professor, to your knowledge, is Malfoy Manor currently being used as a Death Eater stronghold?"
"To my knowledge, Malfoy Manor is not presently a Death Eater stronghold," Dumbledore said slowly, putting down his quill. "But that does not mean it is without danger. Are you planning to retrieve that 'terrifying talking thing' Dobby spoke of?"
Snape nodded.
"You think it's a good idea to break directly into a pure-blood family's estate?" Dumbledore's voice remained calm, though there was obvious doubt in his tone.
"I'm confident," Snape said firmly. "I just need a secure retreat."
"That would violate the regulations of the Portkey Office, as you know," Dumbledore sighed. "More importantly, though I too wish to know what that object is, I would think you are more important than it."
Snape felt a strange twinge inside. "I'm touched, Professor," he said dryly, masking the tremor in his voice. "But since when did we start caring about Ministry regulations, Professor?"
Dumbledore's lips curved slightly, though his expression soon returned to seriousness. He paused to think, then stood and walked to a cabinet.
"It will activate precisely at midnight and bring you back here," Dumbledore said, taking out a silver pendant. Pointing his wand at it, he incanted, "Menthos."
When the light and trembling of the pendant ceased, he handed it to Snape.
"Keep it on you," he said firmly. "Be careful."
Snape nodded, fastening the pendant around his neck. But he wasn't satisfied yet.
"Professor," Snape said, "I recall that there are two types of Portkeys, one that activates at a specific time and transports whoever touches it to the destination, like this one.
"But there's another kind that activates instantly when touched. Could you make me one of those too? That way, I can choose to return on my own."
"Don't push your luck, Severus. One illegal Portkey is already bad enough." Dumbledore's expression hovered between annoyance and amusement, yet he turned once more to the cabinet. "You're encouraging the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot to break the law."
"Don't be so serious," Snape said cheerfully. "Smile, and it'll pass. Once you've done something the first time, the second time comes easier, Professor."
"Here," Dumbledore enchanted a medal in the same way, then carefully wrapped it in parchment. "Tear open the parchment when you need it."
"Thank you, my dear Professor," Snape said with satisfaction, pocketing the Portkey.
"Now, how do you intend to infiltrate Malfoy Manor?" Dumbledore sat back down behind his desk. "Do you need assistance?"
"I think not," Snape drew a crystal vial filled with a black liquid from his robes. "I have my way, Polyjuice Potion."
"Where did you get the ingredients?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"Professor Slughorn has an entire cauldron," Snape said casually. "Borrowing a little isn't much."
"Borrowing?" Dumbledore's tone was laced with skepticism.
"The part he didn't notice," Snape admitted. "I doubt he'd mind."
"Very well," Dumbledore shook his head, seemingly deciding not to pursue the clearly rule-breaking act. "Whom do you intend to become?"
"Abraxas Malfoy. Who else?" Snape said. "After that night at the Duelling Club, I collected a few of Professor Malfoy's things."
"The Bat-Bogey Hex?" Dumbledore suddenly laughed, looking at Snape with amused respect. "Nose crusts?"
"Hair!" Snape snapped, annoyed. "Fallen hair!"
"All right, all right," Dumbledore soothed him. "I suppose you wouldn't go so far as to make that kind of sacrifice."
Snape then drew from his bag a set of splendid silver-green wizard's robes and matching shoes. He looked to Dumbledore. "If you'd excuse me, Professor, this next part is pay-to-view content."
"This is my office," Dumbledore said with a slight pout. "Besides," he pointed to the portraits on the walls, "they're watching too."
"Then I'll have to step outside," Snape said, taking his clothes and heading for the door. As he closed it, he added, "I'd rather not change in front of old men."
Outside the door, Snape pinched his nose, took a deep breath, and drank the Polyjuice Potion in one go. The liquid slid down his throat, and he nearly gagged, the taste was like overboiled cabbage mixed with an indescribable fishy tang.
The next second, agony struck. His organs began to churn as though he had swallowed live snakes. A fierce burning spread from his stomach through his entire body, reaching his fingers and toes.
Then came the horrifying melting sensation, as though his skin were boiling wax bubbling under heat.
Snape collapsed onto the ground, gasping, and watched as his hands squirmed and reshaped like heated wax. Wrinkles crawled across the skin, nails widened, and knuckles swelled like bolts.
The most unbearable part was the stabbing pain on his scalp, he could feel his hair growing, pale-golden strands falling before his eyes.
The pain came suddenly and faded just as quickly. After a minute, Snape panted hard, baring his teeth as he trembled to his feet. Quickly, he stripped off his own robes and donned the Malfoy-style attire.
He adjusted the emerald pin at the collar according to memory, making sure every detail was flawless.
Snape touched his face, feeling unfamiliar wrinkles and a beard. When he pushed open the door again, he had fully become Abraxas Malfoy.
"Dumbledore," Snape said in Abraxas's typical haughty, oily tone, "I regret to inform you that the Board of Governors has decided to revoke your position as Headmaster."
He lifted his chin slightly and strode exaggeratedly toward Dumbledore, towering over him. Picking up a sheet of parchment from the desk, he tapped it with his wand, turning it into a mirror.
In the mirror, Abraxas Malfoy's lips curved into a smug, superior smile.
"Stand up, Dumbledore," Snape continued in character. "This seat belongs to me now."
"Your act is nearly flawless," Dumbledore said calmly, watching him. "I was almost tempted to point my wand at your head. Don't waste time, go and come back quickly."
"Impatience is never a trait of a noble pure-blood wizard," Snape replied lazily in a drawling aristocratic tone. "Oh, Professor, about the way the school gates open... still the same as before?"
"As before," Dumbledore said gravely. He stepped forward and faced Snape. "Remember, do not harm anyone in the Malfoy family, Severus." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Their standing within the pure-blood circles is critical, with ties to many families. If you harm them-"
"I'm not the Dark Lord," Snape snorted. "Don't make me sound as if I take pleasure in killing."
After bidding farewell to the Headmaster, Snape, now in the form of Abraxas Malfoy, pulled up his hood and strode out of the Headmaster's office toward the school entrance.
When the squeezing sensation of Apparition faded, Snape found himself standing on a country lane.
He had been here once years ago, to attend Lucius's birthday party. The experience hadn't been pleasant. As a half-blood wizard invited solely for his talent, he'd felt completely out of place among Lucius's other friends.
In the distance, the wrought-iron gates and outline of Malfoy Manor stood out sharply in the dusk. Its grandeur and scale were astonishing, towering spires, meticulously trimmed gardens, and an ever-present air of luxury.
The Malfoy family had never hidden their wealth, just as a peacock never hides its tail feathers.
But he didn't advance immediately. As the residence of an ancient wizarding family, the manor was surely filled with defensive enchantments, especially Intruder Charms, capable of detecting strangers and triggering alarms, much like a Muggle burglar alarm.
In the original story, Slughorn had used such a spell near his Muggle dwelling and had detected Dumbledore and Harry's arrival.
Theoretically, the Polyjuice Potion imitated a person completely, inside and out, so it should fool such wards, but theory and reality did not always align.
"Even little Barty managed to fool Dumbledore with this stuff," Snape muttered under his breath, deciding to take the risk. "It should be fine."
He straightened his back, adopting Abraxas's proud posture, and made his steps slow and deliberate. Approaching the iron gate, he gave it a light pat.
Thankfully, no alarms went off.
The wrought iron began to twist, its decorative swirls morphing into a grim face.
"State your purpose," the iron gate said in a resonant metallic echo.
"It's me," Snape answered in Abraxas's voice. "Open up."
"Ah, Father, you've returned," said the metal face in surprise, its tone immediately becoming respectful.
That form of address was quite pleasing, Snape couldn't help but think.
The gate swung open silently, revealing a long drive. Snape exhaled in relief, though his vigilance did not waver. This was only the first barrier, the real test lay ahead.
He proceeded along the gravel path, flanked by neatly trimmed hedges. Above him, a few white peacocks glided gracefully through the twilight like pale ghosts.
Before he could reach the main building, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy emerged, descending the wide stone steps quickly and hurrying toward him.
"Father," Lucius called in surprise, "we didn't expect you home today!"
Narcissa curtsied gracefully, then took his arm. "You came back alone, where's Dobby?"
"Don't mention it," Snape snorted coldly. "We'll talk inside."
The drawing room's grandeur was dazzling. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead; deep-purple walls were lined with portraits of Malfoy ancestors.
At the far end stood a long table and a magnificent marble fireplace, above which hung a gilded mirror with ornate scrollwork. In it, Snape saw himself, Abraxas's face, exuding arrogance even in silence.
"To the study," Snape ordered, stopping Lucius from leading him toward the chairs by the fire. This matched what he had learned from Dobby, whenever the Malfoy masters had secret discussions, they went to the study.
The study was just as opulent: ebony shelves filled with gilded books, green velvet curtains draping to the floor.
Snape strode straight to the main seat and sat down. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a puzzled look but obediently took their seats opposite him.
Narcissa flicked her wand, summoning a tea set. "Would you like some tea, Father?"
"Dobby is gone." Snape waved his hand dismissively. He dared not drink anything here. Even aside from the risk of poison, he didn't know what habits Abraxas had when drinking tea, a small sip or a large gulp. Any subtle difference could expose him.
"What do you mean?" Lucius's eyes widened in shock, nearly dropping his teacup. "Dobby is dead?" Narcissa placed a hand over his.
"No," Snape said, feigning indignation. "Dobby was freed by a half-blood bastard named Severus Snape. Worse still, that filthy little elf refused to rebind himself to the Malfoy family!"
"What?" Lucius's face twisted with fury. "I always thought Dobby should feel honored to serve the Malfoys! That's a respectable position any house-elf would dream of!"
Narcissa shot a keen glance at the two "men," but said nothing. Snape noticed her fingers lightly tapping the rim of her teacup, as though in thought.
"Father," Lucius said suddenly, "that bastard Snape had the nerve to write to me yesterday, he even asked to meet."
Snape felt a flicker of irritation. I can call myself that, but you, Lucius, have no right. Still, since the man had just called him "father," he decided to maintain composure and asked coolly, "What did he ask to meet for?"
"He claimed in his letter that your life at Hogwarts was in danger, asking me to meet him at the Three Broomsticks. Absurd!" Lucius said angrily.
"Though it's long been said he refused, for some reason, to join us, still, after how kindly Narcissa and I treated him at school, who would have thought he'd turn out to be such an ungrateful traitor!"