Hogwarts — Dungeons.
Potions Classroom.
Inside the dimly lit dungeon, a bubbling cauldron gave off faint green steam as Cedric carefully dropped in dried nettles and finely ground snake fangs. The ingredients hissed as they reacted in the thick brew, and the scent of herbs mixed with a sharp, acidic undertone filled the air.
He stirred the mixture diligently, watching it transition from murky brown to a deep emerald hue. Then, taking the cauldron off the flame, he added the final ingredient: a pinch of porcupine quills. As he stirred it one last time, the potion settled into a steady dark green color — the exact shade required.
Stepping back half a pace, Cedric looked toward the podium and called out confidently, "Okay, Professor!"
Severus Snape, perched at his desk and reading from a thick tome, glanced up. His dark robes rustled ominously as he approached, his expression as sour as ever.
He scrutinized the potion, nose crinkling slightly, before giving a reluctant nod. With a wave of his wand, the contents of the cauldron vanished.
"You've almost completed every potion required for first-year students," Snape muttered, sounding equal parts annoyed and relieved. "It seems I might finally enjoy a few days of peace and quiet."
Cedric, smiling brightly, shook his head. "Oh no, Professor! You know so much more than the textbook covers. I'd love to keep learning from you."
He wasn't just being polite. Cedric genuinely meant it. He'd finished all the first-year curriculum — but there were six more years ahead, and Snape, as the youngest Potions Master in history, was a treasure trove of knowledge. Some of his custom potions couldn't even be found on the market. If Cedric wanted access to those, he had to earn them through learning, not gold.
Snape narrowed his eyes, but a subtle flicker of amusement crossed his face before quickly vanishing.
"Then tell me," he said gruffly. "What exactly do you want to learn?"
"All of it!" Cedric replied without hesitation, eyes sparkling. "Everything you know — potions from your studies, your own creations, powerful spells... anything you're willing to teach."
Snape blinked, caught off guard. "Everything?"
"Yep!" Cedric said cheerfully. "I'm not afraid of the work. And you have a lot of... well, rare and powerful techniques."
Indeed, Cedric knew Snape was a master of more than potions. He had developed spells like the Shadowless Blade and the Upside Down Golden Bell, obscure and advanced. Then there was Occlumency — the art of shielding one's mind — and even wandless flight. In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, only Snape and Voldemort were ever shown flying without brooms.
Such power couldn't be overlooked.
Snape paused, staring at the boy who stood smiling up at him — unafraid, determined, and respectful.
"I didn't notice this before," he muttered, turning sharply on his heel. "Greedy little badger."
"Heh," Cedric chuckled, brushing his hair back with a playful grin. "I just know what I want to do, and I know it requires strength. I can't afford to waste any time."
Snape stopped in his tracks.
He had already heard from Professor McGonagall about Cedric's rigorous self-discipline — how he began studying magic at age five, how he practiced daily with unwavering dedication. She often sighed, saying it was a waste. That no matter how hard Cedric worked, Harry Potter would always be the chosen one, the savior, the one destined to defeat the Dark Lord.
That comment had stayed with Snape.
"With such effort... you may find in the end that it was all for nothing," Snape said, not turning to face him. "Is that worth it?"
The words sounded distant, as if Snape weren't speaking to Cedric alone, but also to someone buried deep within his past. A younger version of himself. Someone who had also thrown himself into a cause, into love, into obsession... and who had lost everything.
Cedric didn't answer right away. He had been waiting for this moment — the moment where he could meet Snape not just as a student, but as a human being. A man who had lived through grief, regret, and unspoken love.
He recalled the Snape from the stories. The man who lived for 38 years, who loved Lily Evans for 29 of them, who waited 9 years before confessing his heart, who held her lifeless body for 4 minutes, and spent 7 years protecting her son — only to fall alone, with her eyes looking back at him in Harry's face.
So Cedric spoke, softly but firmly.
"When I set a goal, I don't always know if I'll reach it," he said. "But that doesn't stop me from enjoying the journey along the way."
He smiled gently. "Live every day seriously. Be responsible for your actions, your words — and accept the consequences. That's what makes life meaningful."
Snape said nothing, his back still turned.
But his shoulders shifted slightly.
The words pierced deeper than Cedric knew. Severus Snape had lived his life haunted by a single regret. He had loved Lily Evans with all his heart — and lost her because of his own decisions. He had called her a Mudblood. He had joined the Death Eaters. And by the time he tried to fix it, it was too late.
He had sacrificed everything for Harry — not because he loved the boy, but because of the woman he'd lost.
"Take it seriously and have no regrets," Cedric had said.
For a long moment, the dungeon was silent.
Then, finally, Snape spoke — his voice quieter than usual. "You're starting to sound like the Gryffindor brats I despise."
[Ding! You have successfully moved Professor Snape.]
[You gain: Bonus Talent Point +1, Snape's Character Template Card.]
Cedric grinned.
Duplicitous? Maybe. But this was who Snape really was.
He leaned forward and added with a teasing voice, "Wrong, Professor! I told you before — I want to be in Hufflepuff."
That snapped Snape from his reverie. He turned around, looking at Cedric with an odd expression — one of restrained envy, perhaps.
At such a young age, this boy already knew what he wanted. That clarity, that drive... it was something Snape had lacked in his own youth.
But of course, he didn't let it show.
"Hufflepuff," he scoffed. "Very well. As you said — your choice. So besides potions, you really want to learn... everything?"
Cedric nodded without a second's pause. "Of course!"
Snape's dark eyes narrowed. Then he turned back to his desk.
"I'll prepare a schedule," he muttered. "Now get out. Starting tonight, report to me at eight o'clock sharp every evening. One hour. No excuses."
Cedric lit up. "Thank you, Professor!"
He beamed, practically bouncing on his heels.
Humming Sunshine and Rainbows, he summoned the small enchanted white horse that helped pack away his equipment, washed his hands at the gargoyle-shaped basin, and exited the classroom, still smiling.
Behind him, Snape stood silently.
For the first time in years, laughter — genuine laughter — had echoed in his gloomy dungeon classroom. He didn't say a word. But a faint warmth stirred beneath the layers of bitterness and regret that had built up over decades.
Outside the classroom, Cedric pulled out the Snape Character Template Card he had just earned and examined its contents, his mind already racing with possibilities.
He was going to learn everything he could from Severus Snape.
And maybe, just maybe — he would help the man find a little light in his darkness, too.
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