The rest of the Christmas break vanished in a blur of snowfall and idle comfort.
Hogsade's streets had been dusted white, the lake frozen solid under a mirror sheen of ice, and even the ever-haunting corridors of Hogwarts had seed—if only for a mont—gentle.
When the students returned through the castle gates, the air was thick with stories of holidays spent with families, of the magical gifts they received or inflated tales of their adventures away from school, of warmth that didn't exist nearly as much within ancient stone walls.
Cassius Snape, however, said nothing.
Cho tried to pry on the train ride back—softly, cautiously, the way one nudges a sleeping dragon.
"So?" she had asked, eyes bright and curious. "What was in the vaults, Cassius?"
He had smiled faintly, gaze distant through the glass.
"Old things," he murmured. "Older than even Dumbledore."
That was all she got.
Not even Hermione with her combined cuteness managed to pry anything out of him.
In the end the two simply had to resign themselves that the contents of those vaults wasnt sothing he could share, be it because he couldnt or because for his own safety he shouldn't.
By the ti they reached the castle, snow was falling again—thin, whispering flakes that lted on his cloak as he stepped from the carriage.
The castle lood above, candles flickering in every window, each tower cutting against the grey horizon like a jagged crown.
Waiting at the foot of the marble stairs was Albus Dumbledore.
The Headmaster's face was serene, but his eyes—those damned eyes—glimred with calculation.
"Mr. Snape," he greeted softly, hands folded before him. "Might I have a word in my office?"
Hermione frowned but said nothing.
Cho gave Cassius a small, uneasy look.
He offered them a reassuring nod.
"Go on ahead to the common room. I'll join you after."
They hesitated, then disappeared into the castle's depths.
Cassius followed Dumbledore up the sweeping staircases in silence, the clicking of his boots echoing like a trono.
The phoenix perched in the Headmaster's office greeted him with a soft trill, golden feathers ruffling under the candlelight, though the creature itself seed cowed in a sense as if fearing Cassius's very presence nearby.
"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered once they were seated.
Cassius decided to be shaless in this mont, it's still early yet, but a cup of cocoa and so oatal raisen cookies would be nice.
Dumbledore smiled faintly.
Before a plate piled high of cookies and two mugs of steaming cocoa appeared.
The act of which stunned dumbledore a little since he'd not yet sent the request to the schools houseelves.
But they still appeared nonetheless as if they were listening to the child before him, waiting for any request he might make.
There was a pause—asured, deliberate.
The Headmaster steepled his fingers, his gaze never leaving the boy.
"You visited Gringotts over the holidays," he began.
"Lady Draconis ntioned to that as the 'heir' to her house i should go to claim the heir's ring and gain access to the vault, so rather than put it off i figured it was best to do as she said."
Dumbledores frown deepened slightly as this news.
Rings within the wizarding world were sothing only know to the sacred 28, the purebloods of the lands, who had history dating back hundreds of years, so even going as far back as the founders themselves.
Dumbledore tilted his head. "Indeed. The rings upon your hand suggest as much."
Dumbledore's eyes flickered to the boys hands.
On them three rings almost glowed on his fingers, each bearing a sigil of one of the schools founders.
Collectively he was the 'true' heir as he was heir of 3/5 of the houses included in that was the primary founder.
Cassius's lips twitched.
He'd long since known that dumbledore was the sort to do or say just about anything if it was for his version of 'the greater good'.
Seeing a young scion with potential beyond his reckoning, it was only a matter of ti before Dumbeldore would try to use him in his plans.
For a long mont, the only sound was the gentle crackle of the fire and the soft rustle of Fawkes shifting upon his perch.
Then, without warning, Dumbledore's gaze sharpened.
Cassius felt it instantly.
The attempted intrusion.
A whisper against his consciousness.
A soft, invasive pressure attempting to slip between the folds of his thoughts.
He did not react outwardly, but his mind—his mind—flared.
The mont Dumbledore touched the edges of it, he was t not with mories, but with a cold and shifting labyrinth—walls made of black glass, a sea of serpents coiling through shadow, ntal defences created by Cassius with the aid of his ntor Grindelwald to protect the young lad against the legilincy used almost constantly by the wizend wizard.
The Headmaster's ntal probe was repelled so violently he actually winced.
Cassius's eyes glinted like molten steel.
"I would appreciate it, Professor," he said softly, "if you refrained from entering my mind uninvited."
Dumbledore leaned back slowly, the faintest trace of genuine surprise flickering across his expression.
"My apologies. I rely wished to… understand you better."
"I believe I'm quite transparent," Cassius replied evenly.
The Headmaster chuckled. "I assure you, Mr. Snape, you are anything but."
He gestured idly toward the boy's hands.
"The rings you wear… they are not ordinary heirlooms. They mark you as the Heir of multiple Founders. That is… unprecedented."
"Well it is a magical life we lead afterall, who knows what will happen in the next mont."
"But beyond the matter of the rings, my dear boy i wanted to ask you sothing that's been weighing on my mind."
"Alright?"
Cassius shifted in his seat preparing himself to be recruited into the golden trio, or have his plans under the Arcanum exposed, possibly even his direct connection to Grindelwald himself.
But instead the words that ca from Dumbledore's mouth shocked him.
"Do you know who your parents are?"
Seriously... thats what you want to know most?
"I don't."
Cassius's reply was swift, on paper he was an orphan, and while he shared the sa last na as Snape, to reveal he knew otherwise would expose his genius and presence of mories even on the day of his birth.
This answer seed to disappoint the headmaster as he slumped into his chair lost in thought.
Then—sothing subtle shifted.
The air in the office grew heavier, colder.
Cassius felt it but it seed Dumbledore was to distracted to notice: a hum in the air, a pulse of the wood laying upon his desk.
The Elder Wand.
It lay at the head of his desk, equal distance between it's current owner and Cassius, quiet but restless.
Cassius's presence had changed sothing.
He felt the wand's attention the way one feels a predator's gaze — old magic recognizing old blood.
"Is sothing wrong, Professor?" Cassius asked softly.
The old man hesitated.
"It's nothing, nothing important anyway. Now since you've beco the heir, was there anything important within the vaults you've inherited?"
The old mans contenance shifted trying to divert the conversation away.
His worries still lingered since the ancient magical tools of hogwarts recorded a students na as the na the student thinks of themselves, if that was the case, then before Cassius even knew of the man he already had claid the na of Snape as his own.
Whether he was really the son of this professor or not was troubling, as was his inheritance of ancient power and relics lost to ti.
"I'm sorry professor but i won't speak on that."
Cassius simply shut down the discussion as he had done with all others since his coming of inheritance.
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