You were supposed to be dead.
The child who died in the summer has appeared before me again.
It has been a year since I became a professor, Halloween 1982. That child appeared.
The one who died that summer.
He was only twenty years old.
Today's Hogwarts is easily excited even by the start-of-term ceremony that opens every year with tedious regularity. It is a sight that could be called innocent, if one were being generous.
The cheerful sound of treading on fallen leaves, excited freshmen, and the dry air. Severus felt as though laying his body under this brilliant sun would melt his outer shell away in an instant, so he had to move his feet toward the dungeons immediately.
" . . . ? " Someone appeared in front of Severus, who looked displeased with his robes billowing out. A green lining visible over the robes. That means—they are in Slytherin. Lately, it seems the Sorting Hat has gone senile along with Dumbledore, sorting someone with such a stupid expression into Slytherin. . . The world is coming to an end.
"Out of the way. If you're a freshman, go find a prefect or—" Before Severus could even finish muttering, he noticed something.
The messy, disheveled black hair, and even the stupid expression made while blinking round brown eyes devoid of light. The hair on his neck stood up as a chill ran down his spine. Has Merlin played a trick on him already? If not, there is no way they could be this identical.
Today's Hogwarts is easily excited even by the start-of-term ceremony that opens every year with tedious regularity. It is a sight that could be called innocent, if one were being generous.
The cheerful sound of falling leaves, excited freshmen, and the dry air. Severus felt as though laying his body under this brilliant sun would melt his outer shell away in an instant, so he had to move his feet toward the dungeons immediately.
" . . . ? " Someone appeared in front of Severus, who looked displeased with his robes billowing out. A green lining visible over the robes. That means—they are in Slytherin. Lately, it seems the Sorting Hat has gone senile along with Dumbledore, sorting someone with such a stupid expression into Slytherin. . . The world is coming to an end.
"Out of the way. If you're a freshman, go find a prefect or—" Before Severus could even finish muttering, he noticed something.
The messy, disheveled black hair, and even the stupid expression made while blinking round brown eyes devoid of light. The hair on his neck stood up as a chill ran down his spine. Has Merlin played a trick on him already? If not, there is no way they could be this identical.
"Eh? What did you say? A pre... a band-aid?" The child leaned in toward his Head of House, who had momentarily frozen.
Silence hung for a while. Even the cool breeze blowing from the window merely brushed past the crowns of their heads.
"Um. . I'm sorry, Professor!" It was too scary, having Professor Snape's shadowed face staring at me. Thinking of the anecdotes I hear occasionally—no, frequently—I didn't want to lose points. Because I'm a well-behaved kid.
Guest bowed his head toward Professor Snape in a quick nod and vanished as if running away in an instant.
Release Date 2026.09.08 / Last Updated 2026.09.08