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HP: Fantastic Beasts And The Right Way To Use Them - 291
🕑 Added 2025-12-03 19:01:41 +0000 UTCChapter 291: Team-Building in the Forbidden Forest?
Christmas was not a happy holiday for Severus Snape.
To be precise, ever since that incident in his fifth year, the one he regretted for the rest of his life, he had not had a single truly happy celebration.
He would never again receive that carefully prepared present. Never again hear that bright, gentle voice wishing him well. A few years later, even the last fragile sliver of hope had been shattered beyond repair.
If life could be lived over, he would never again let ridiculous ideology blind him to what truly mattered. But there was no such thing as "if". Even time magic could not turn the clock back for real.
Perhaps the most powerful wizards might manage true temporal reversal. He knew better. Albus Dumbledore himself could not do such a thing. As for Severus Snape, the idea was laughable.
That was why the pain weighed so heavily: because nothing could be undone.
And that was why, for whatever remained of his life, he would carry that vast sea of sin alone.
At Christmas, he ought to stay at the school in solitary penitence, quietly atoning for what he had done.
It was what he deserved. He had to endure it. He had to grow used to it.
Yet now, something seemed to have shifted.
"You are inviting me out to the Forbidden Forest over the Christmas holidays… for team‑building?"
Snape stared, taken aback, at the young man who had suddenly appeared at his side. His expression was distinctly odd.
Hogwarts almost never organised "team‑building". Everyone had classes, research, or other duties. There was precious little time to waste on such airy nonsense.
And even if there were such an outing, he was hardly the first person who would come to mind.
"Why me? If you insist on a group excursion, Filius and Minerva are clearly more suitable."
He gave the man beside him a sidelong look and let out a soft, disdainful snort.
"Since when has Professor Kahn been so kind‑hearted?"
From what he knew of Evans, any unusual behaviour generally meant the boy was up to something.
"Ah, well, you know how it is at Christmas. Everyone has plans."
Evans grinned as he spoke. "Professor Dumbledore is coming with us this time. Professor McGonagall needs to stay behind to deal with school business. As for Professor Flitwick, he has gone to Vienna with a friend and cannot make it."
"So I am a last‑minute replacement," Snape said dryly. His face still held its habitual sneer, but inwardly he relaxed a fraction.
If Evans had sounded out the other professors first and only come to him after, then perhaps this was not some elaborate trap.
No. That was foolish. He could not rule out the possibility that this brat was trying to manipulate him again.
He watched the young man warily for a few seconds, then pounced on the flaw in what he had just heard.
"Dumbledore? Dumbledore is actually going on a ‘team‑building’ jaunt into the Forbidden Forest?"
That was highly irregular. Albus might not be a stern headmaster, but given the choice, he would far rather stay in his office with a book than traipse through the Forest in the name of camaraderie.
The more he thought about it, the more Snape’s lips curled into a cold, knowing smile.
"Who else, besides Dumbledore?"
There it was. As if Evans would bring him into the forest purely for recreation.
More likely, there was some wretched task waiting for him, and he was being hauled along as free labour.
To his surprise, the young man’s expression did not flicker. Instead, Evans calmly started counting on his fingers.
"Let me think. There’s me, Professor Dumbledore, Mr Nicolas Flamel, Sothia… and possibly a few of my friends. Do not worry, though; none of them are human. No need to feel any social pressure."
Evans knew perfectly well his dear Head of House was more than a little socially anxious. If there were strangers in the group, Snape might well refuse on the spot.
When it came to predicting the Head of Slytherin’s reactions, Evans was very experienced.
"And why, exactly, would I feel any social pressure?"
Snape fixed him with a hard stare, as if trying to pick out some crack in the façade. Yet no matter how long he watched, he saw no hint of guilt in the young man’s eyes. Only straightforward sincerity.
As if every word he had said were the plain, unvarnished truth.
After a few moments of this, a thread of doubt crept into Snape’s thoughts.
Could he have misjudged it? Was this really nothing more than an ordinary group outing?
He still found it hard to believe Dumbledore would attend something as frivolous as "team‑building".
And why, if it was so ordinary, was Nicolas Flamel involved?
"What is that alchemist coming along for?"
When he asked this, he clearly saw a shadow pass through Evans’s eyes.
The boy sighed softly and lifted his head, a faintly melancholy look on his face.
"Head of House, you know about Mr Flamel’s decision to destroy the Philosopher’s Stone, yes?"
Snape’s voice lost some of its chill. "I do. Why?"
Was there more to the story?
"Without the Stone, he can never brew more Elixir of Life. Before destroying it, he did leave himself some potions to extend his lifespan, but with no way to make more…"
Evans sighed again.
"He does not have many years left."
His expression turned openly sorrowful. His shoulders even hunched a little.
"To be honest, Mr Flamel has helped me a great deal. And Professor Dumbledore has been his friend for decades."
"Now, at the end of his life, Mr Flamel wants to explore the Forbidden Forest properly for the first time. How could we possibly refuse to go with him?"
"This so‑called team‑building trip only exists because of that wish."
"Because Nicolas Flamel wants to explore the Forbidden Forest," Snape repeated quietly.
He had to admit that explanation did sound plausible. And if a six‑hundred‑year‑old wizard was willing and able to take part, the journey itself was unlikely to be too dangerous.
After a short hesitation, he gave a small nod.
"I—"
He did not get any further.
"Settled, then. We will head out in a couple of days."
In an instant, the gloom disappeared from Evans’s face, replaced by a bright, cheerful grin. He shot Snape a quick wink and darted away toward the staff table, leaving the Potions Master standing alone, full of unanswered questions.
Something was wrong here.
He was sure of it.
He tried to pin down what was bothering him, but before he could, the bells rang. The doors of the Great Hall swung open, and the students who had stayed for the holidays poured in, filling the air with chatter and laughter.
Surrounded by all that warmth, Snape felt a familiar pang of loss twist through his chest. He crushed it down, as he always did, burying it along with his earlier suspicions.
Perhaps, he thought, slipping into his usual seat, joining a little "team‑building" after Christmas would not be the worst thing in the world.
