As the summer drew to a close, one night, Gryffindor's female prefect, Hermione Granger, reported to the principal's office.

She had really just come to report on some statistical questions about the number of students and grades left behind at Hogwarts after the war - she had made a detailed table in that Muggle-style, modern and straightforward way - and when she walked into the Headmaster's office with the parchment, she had thought it was Professor McGonagall, who had been acting for the school for the past few days, but what she saw was the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, the one in a black robe, The grim-faced former Slytherin Dean, Severus Snape.

The happy smile on Hermione's face suddenly froze halfway. But her good self-cultivation and self-control skills helped at critical moments. Trying to maintain the last polite smile on her face, she handed the parchment with both hands to the large desk in front of Snape, explaining what it was written on it and why she was visiting the Headmaster's office at this time.

"It was Professor McGonagall who told me the Principal's Office for tonight...... So I thought she was here. She explained, slightly embarrassed, as she stood stiffly at the desk, feeling that the conversation might be untenable at any moment.

However, to her surprise, the black-robed wizard sitting behind the desk glanced at the densely written words on the parchment, and replied to her in a low voice.

"Professor McGonagall has some business to go to the Ministry of Magic tonight......" he said, pausing slightly.

"Questions in memory of the students who died in the war. ”

Hermione understood in an instant.

Hogwarts needed a ritual, a chance for everyone to face their inner pain and tears, hug each other, confide in each other, cry together, and then continue to wipe away their tears and walk bravely. And that's why Professor McGonagall isn't here tonight. She had probably gone to the Ministry of Magic to discuss with the officials how to plan for the issue—and now that Kingsley Shackel had succeeded him as Minister of Magic, this legitimate wish would no longer be lightly ignored and dismissed by the Ministry of Magic.

She replied with a sigh, her eyes drooping sadly, and after thinking about it, she replied, "...... That's great. Hopefully, after this ceremony, everything will be fine—"

She thought her answer was appropriate, a clear expression of her feelings, and no offense to anyone—but by the time she said the last word, the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees in a palpable instant.

This must have been due to the sudden strong cold air emanating from the current Headmaster of Hogwarts sitting behind his desk.

Hemin was puzzled — and embarrassed. She felt like she hadn't said anything wrong, but the atmosphere in the room had suddenly become so bad that she couldn't stay here.

So, she casually said, "Then I still have a thesis to finish, so I'll go first." Good night Professor", he was about to leave the room.

However, after she had taken a few steps, Snape suddenly spoke up and stopped her behind her.

“...... Miss Granger. ”

Hermione stopped and looked back at the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, a little confused.

Oh, Merlin's hat! He looked terrible, his face as black as the sky before a storm, as if lightning and thunder were about to thunder.

Despite knowing how much the man had contributed to the fight against Voldemort, Hermione was still slightly alert—a completely knee-jerk reaction. Professor Snape—oh, now Headmaster—wasn't going to change, and he wasn't going to appreciate Gryffindor any more for protecting Harry Potter for so many years. As a Gryffindor, Hermione felt the need to be alert.

“...... Professor?" she looked at him hesitantly, and cried out softly and suspiciously.

As if faced with a major problem, Snape opened and closed his mouth several times, and finally squeezed a question between his teeth as if he had finally made up his mind to die.

"What do you think about Muggle literature...... Do you understand?"

Hermione was taken aback, not understanding why Professor Snape had brought up such an unpopular field of Muggle literature. But her enthusiasm for knowledge and curiosity about the headmaster's inexplicable question ignited in an instant, causing her to forget the danger and oppression that her former Potions professor had brought to all Hogwarts students, and nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, understand something." ”

Snape was silent for a moment, the veins on his forehead twitching faintly. Just when Hermione thought he was just asking casually and that there would be no more questions about Muggle literature, he spoke again, his voice as low as a dry bow rubbing back and forth against the strings of a taut violin, making a hoarse, high-pitched hiss.

"'What does it matter if the name is called, the rose is not called a rose, it still smells the same,' the sentence...... Is it from some famous Muggle literature?"

Hermione was a little surprised this time.

She thought for a moment and quickly gave an answer. "I want to ...... This phrase was said by Shakespeare. Oh, Shakespeare was a very famous Muggle playwright about three or four hundred years ago, and this quote comes from one of his tragic masterpieces, Romeo and Juliet......"

Snape sighed. To Hermione's surprise, he didn't get angry, and only had a clear expression on his face, "So that's really the case". He didn't allow her to leave immediately, but lowered his head and thought for a few minutes, as if he was remembering something. Then, he spoke again.

“...... So, what about this poem? What is it...... Is it written by famous Muggles?" he asked slowly, seemingly searching for every word in his memory, and recited with a little difficulty: "Are you okay over there? Do you feel lonely? Do the sky still turn red at sunset? Are the birds still singing on the way to the woods?......

Hermione was completely stunned.

The poem sounds like a parting love poem entirely. And through the context analysis, it is not too much to say that it is a situation of life and death. And Hogwarts' famously gloomy, cold, stern, and ruthless professors actually ...... How would you know about such a thing?!

Hermione couldn't help but look at the wall of the headmaster's room. The old Headmaster, Dumbledore, whom she greatly admired, was napping with his head on his hand in the frame, as if he had been sleepy for a moment. The other former headmasters also seemed to be very busy all the time, some reading, some making tea, the former headmistress, Durice Devonte, a well-known therapist, found a large pile of Muggle wool and long needles and began to form fleece, and the Slytherin and less popular former headmistress, Phineas Nigelles Black, suddenly became very interested in the pattern of the tablecloth and tea towel on the coffee table in the frame he was in.

Hermione sighed silently, made a very serious and solemn appearance, and continued to listen intently to the Muggle poetry that Mr. Headmaster had recited in a rigid and stiff tone.

“...... Can you receive a letter that I didn't dare to send? Can I express a confession that I dare not admit?...... Time will pass and the roses will wither? It's time to say goodbye...... As darkness falls, will the candle light again?"

The headmaster has finally finished memorizing it. He didn't immediately raise his eyes to look at his brilliant Muggle student, waiting for her to give an answer. He just let his gaze linger on some lower corner, as if for a moment some rare potion material had grown there.

Hermione didn't dare follow his line of sight to see what he was looking at. But the answer she had to give was probably not satisfactory to him. This made her suddenly feel a little uneasy in her heart, and said weakly, "I'm sorry...... Professor, I'm afraid I don't...... Didn't hear the poem. ”

Even if it wasn't Snape's question, Hermione felt a pang of embarrassment and embarrassment. There was a question she couldn't answer!And she should have been ten times better at Muggle literature than the gloomy black-robed professor!She bowed her head in shame, wanting to apologize once again for her loneliness.

Snape didn't pursue anything, though, and he quickly said, "It's okay. As a wizard, you don't need to know that much about what Muggles write. ”

Hermione thought it was a rare comfort from the Headmaster, but there was nothing to comfort her about it. She sadly replied, "No...... It's frustrating to find a hole in your knowledge, Professor, and I'm sorry I can't help myself. ”

Snape curled his lips, as if to say something, but perhaps the repeated mention of Muggle literature, which he had always looked down upon, made him feel a little underwhelmed, and instead of taunting Hermione as usual, he just changed the subject in a low voice, asking for another sentence that struck him as strange.

"'You can doubt that the stars are flames, that the sun moves, that truth is a lie...... 'Do you know if this was also written by Muggles, Granger?'"

Hermione pulled herself together from her gloomy mood, lifted her spirits, and said cheerfully, "Of course, I know that. This quote was also written by the famous Muggle playwright Shakespeare, from one of his most famous plays, Hamlet. ”

Snape didn't seem to have much interest in Shakespeare or Hamlet. In fact, it was terrifying enough for him to ask abruptly about these inconsistent verses today. He seems to care only about one issue.

“...... Are there any other ...... in this sentence? Words?" he carefully chose a more neutral word, but his expression revealed anything far from that. In fact, he looked as if the words that followed him would bring Voldemort back to life, his expression wary, nervous, and as if he were facing a great enemy.

Hermione was startled by his tense tone, but she answered his question earnestly.

"Yes. The full text of this sentence should be 'You can doubt that the stars are flames, that the sun moves, that the truth is a lie, but never doubt that I love you.' ’——”

Her voice suddenly choked. For she saw that the current Headmaster of Hogwarts looked up sharply when he heard the last words she had recited, and his dark eyes seemed to burn with the fire she had seen in the Room of Requirement, excessively sharp and bright.

Hermione shuddered unconsciously. She thought that if her eyes could also shoot magic, then she would have been buried in the flames of dark magic like Crabbe on the day of the decisive battle with the Dark Lord.

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July 4:

It suddenly felt like I was going to finish this volume in a few more chapters!

But what to write about the deputy long line, I still don't have a clue = =

Next update: 0:00 tomorrow.

Thank you to the little angel who voted for me or irrigated the nutrient solution~

Thanks to the little angel who threw [Mine]: Ripple Wind, Return to the Crane Deep, Meow 1;

Thanks to the little angel who irrigated [the nutrient solution]:

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!