Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 73 Bob Ogden

The Thestral swung its long black tail back and forth, its hooves lightly pawing the ground as it lowered its head and greedily tore at the raw meat.

“Let them eat their fill first,” Dumbledore said gently. “This is going to be quite a long journey.”

"Why did he have to choose such a troublesome and scary guy?" Snape muttered under his breath, leaning against a tree trunk with his arms crossed.

“Tycrown must have told you,” Dumbledore said. “Wizards need to know very well the destination of Apparition and have a clear picture of what it looks like, so it’s best to Apparate to places they have been before.”

“I know, Professor,” Snape said, “but this method is indeed inefficient. Wouldn’t a FlooNet work too?”

But Dumbledore just smiled at him and didn't answer his question.

They waited patiently, and after only bare bones remained on the ground, Dumbledore called out softly twice.

Two Thestrals slowly approached them.

Snape took a deep breath, reached out and grabbed the mane of the Thestral that was approaching him, and with great effort climbed onto its silky smooth back, placing his legs behind its wings.

The Thestral obediently cooperated with his movements, remaining motionless, only exhaling puffs of white breath from its nostrils.

"Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked. Seeing Snape nod, he said to the Thestrals, "Lancashire, south bank of the Ribble Valley."

The Thestral remained standing still for a while, then suddenly spread its wings to the sides, cutting through the air with a piercing sound.

Then, Thestral slowly lowered its body and suddenly shot straight up into the dark purple starry sky.

Snape felt the scenery rushing past him, and he had to press his body tightly against Thestral to prevent himself from slipping and falling, becoming nourishment for the Forbidden Forest.

The twigs crackled softly against them as they broke through the treetops and flew into the star-studded night sky.

“Professor,” Snape squinted in the cool air, turned his head to look around, and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Can’t we find another way to travel?”

His voice was torn apart by the wind. Dumbledore ignored him, and his Thestral quickly overtook Snape, his grey beard fluttering gracefully in the air as it soared towards the horizon.

This was hardly a pleasant way to fly. This made Snape wonder if he had inadvertently offended the headmaster, otherwise why would he do this? But he was always polite and easygoing, and he certainly wouldn't do something so disrespectful to his elders.

The Thestrals sped across forests, villages, and mountains, the howling cold air sending a chill through Snape's body and making his teeth chatter uncontrollably. But he couldn't free his hand to cast a shield on himself with his wand, so he could only grit his teeth and endure it silently.

As dusk fell, they flew over patches of lights, bridges, and winding roads.

Finally, in the faint light of dawn, the Thestrals spread their wings and flew into Morecambe Bay. The boundless sea was tinged with a hazy orange-red, and the Thestrals' black wings were gilded with a warm glow in the rosy light.

"Almost there!" Snape vaguely heard Dumbledore's voice coming from somewhere behind him.

As dawn broke, they landed on the lush green pastures along the river valley.

Snape slid awkwardly off the Thestral's back.

"Professor, how did you know that Bob Ogden had connections with the Gaunt family?" he asked, taking out his wand and using magic to warm himself.

“Every contact leaves a trace,” Dumbledore said calmly. “It’s quite a coincidence, actually. A while ago, when I was reporting to Wizengamot, I spoke with Tiberius Ogden. “When we were talking about the stubborn factions in the wizarding world and the inevitability of their decline, Tiberius casually mentioned that his cousin, Bob Ogden, had once served on a mission for the Gaunt family. Now, that family’s glory has vanished into history.”

Dumbledore led Snape along a path by the river. They hadn't gone far when a grove of trees came into view.

After walking a few dozen steps, an old house hidden in a small grove by the roadside came into view, its walls covered with mottled vines.

In the garden in front of the old house, a short, stout, bald old man was carefully trimming the flower branches with a pair of gardening shears.

Hearing footsteps, he straightened up and looked up.

Bob Ogden was wearing glasses with exceptionally thick lenses, making his eyes appear as two tiny dots.

“Ah, Albus, it’s you,” he said, his face full of surprise. “I was thinking that Muggles shouldn’t be able to get close. What brings you here? And who is this?”

“Hello, Bob,” Dumbledore said in a friendly manner. “Severus Snape, one of my finest students. Would you not invite us in? There’s something I’d like to ask you about.”

“Of course, you’re most welcome,” Ogden said, setting the scissors aside and wiping the dirt off his hands with his wand. “When you get old, you just enjoy tinkering with these plants. Come on, let’s go inside.”

Ogden used magic to control the teapot, brewing them several cups of hot tea and bringing out a plate of snacks.

"I wonder if you remember when you worked at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Dumbledore picked up his teacup and took a small sip.

“You remember most of it, right?” Ogden glanced at Dumbledore, puzzled. “Is there anything you’d like to know?”

“The Gaunt family,” Dumbledore said. “Tiberius said you’ve been to their house on missions before. Can you tell me what happened?”

“The Gaunt family… let me think…” Ogden tilted his head back slightly, squinting as he pondered for a while. “That was many years ago, near Little Hangleton… I remember, apart from that girl named Melop who was somewhat better, the whole family was a bit off…”

"Who are the members of their family?" Dumbledore asked casually, picking up a lemon pudding.

“Old Marvolo, and his two children, Merop and Morfin.” Ogden took a big gulp of tea, frowned, and asked, “Albus, why are you asking about these things, such a busy man, the greatest wizard of our time?”

Ogden tapped the table lightly with his knuckles, lost in thought.

After a few seconds, he muttered to himself, "Snake language... Snake language..."

Immediately afterward, Ogden's eyes widened, his body trembled slightly, and he looked at Dumbledore in terror, his voice filled with fear and unease: "No...no...get out, I don't know anything!"

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the terror on Ogden's face slowly faded, replaced by a blank and confused expression, his small eyes vacant and lifeless.

“Sigh, it’s always like this.” Dumbledore swallowed his lemon pudding and sighed. “Many times I wish people weren’t so smart.”

　Thanks to Qingdushanshuilanging, AleisterXianguang, wicker, BookFriend20210713184418074, BookFriend20190609195915819, A Li'sWuTai, BookFriend20170815190137064, and NovelAddicts for their monthly tickets.

　　Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

　　I have a question: for those familiar with the original work, I don't need to go into detail about Bob Ogden's specific memories; but considering that everyone may not remember the original work, especially those who are not very familiar with it, is it necessary for me to write more?

　　
　
(End of this chapter)