Through the Extendable Ear came Malfoy's long, shuddering exhale—a sound of pure relief that seemed to last forever in the tense silence of the dungeon corridor. Clearly this news about his father's safety had eased his tense nerves somewhat, loosening the knot of fear that had been strangling him.
After a brief silence that stretched on, Malfoy's voice sounded again. But this time it carried a trace of hesitation, a tremor of uncertainty.
"Professor... whose... whose side are you really on?" The words came out rushed, as if he needed to say them before his courage failed. "Dumbledore's?"
It was an extremely bold question, the kind that could get someone killed in certain circles. Even Harry and Ron outside the door, invisible and pressed against the stone wall, held their breath together.
"No."
Snape's answer came quickly. He paused, and when he spoke again his voice dropped even lower, taking on a heavy tone of warning that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up even through the door. "And some questions, Draco, are not yours to ask. Not now. Not ever. Do you understand me?"
There was another pause.
"The more you know, the worse it is for you—for your family. You only need to remember this: do exactly as I say, stay quiet about what you see and hear, and maintain your 'controlled' appearance for anyone watching. That's enough. Now, go. Immediately."
The sound of a chair scraping against stone came from inside the office—evidently the conversation was over.
Harry and Ron quickly pulled the Extendable Ears from their own ears. Ron fumbled with his, nearly dropping it. By the time the office door's handle began to turn, they had already hastily cast the Disillusionment Charm over themselves again and hidden behind a large suit of armor in a nook.
The door swung open with a creak.
Malfoy walked out, still with his head down, his face pale appearing in the flickering torchlight. His footsteps resounded as he left quickly, almost running.
Only after his figure had completely disappeared up the stairs, and the sound of his footsteps faded, did Harry and Ron carefully emerge from behind the armor, checking both directions to make sure the corridor was empty.
Then they ran.
They sprinted back toward Gryffindor Tower at top speed, taking corners so fast they nearly slipped. Students they passed called out in surprise, but they didn't slow down.
By the time they burst through the portrait hole, both were gasping for air.
Ron collapsed into an armchair by the fire, breathing heavily like he'd just run a marathon, his face was flushed red. Eavesdropping outside Snape's office and then fleeing the scene was probably the most thrilling and terrifying thing he'd done all year, possibly in his entire life at Hogwarts.
However, they seemed to have overheard something quite extraordinary.
"Where did you two just go?"
A familiar voice came from behind them, tinged with clear displeasure and worry.
Hermione stood there at the entrance to the girls' dormitory, holding the books they'd left behind in the Transfiguration classroom, her brow furrowed deeply as she looked at Ron panting in his chair and Harry's grave, troubled expression.
"You disappeared right after class without a word. I asked Seamus, and he said he saw you both running toward the dungeons like something was chasing you. What were you thinking?"
Harry glanced around the common room quickly, noting the scattered students doing homework or playing Exploding Snap.
There seemed too many potential listeners.
He pulled Hermione immediately into a corner by the window, away from curious ears, and after confirming no one was close enough to overhear or paying them any attention, he recounted the entire conversation they'd overheard in detail, keeping his voice low.
Hermione's expression changed rapidly as Harry spoke, cycling through disbelief, shock, and finally settling on deep concern.
"Malfoy's father is still the Dark Lord's follower?" Her face was grave. "And from the sound of it, he's still working for You-Know-Who!"
"That's not the point, Hermione!" Ron interjected urgently, having caught his breath enough to join them in the corner.
He looked around nervously before continuing. "The important thing is Snape—he said he's not Dumbledore's man! He told Malfoy directly! Didn't even deny it! After all these years of Dumbledore defending him!"
"We have to tell Dumbledore about this!" Harry suddenly stood up from his crouch making the decision. "We must go find him right now, immediately! Snape practically admitted it himself! This is too important to wait—what if he's planning something?"
"Harry, wait!" Hermione quickly grabbed his arm and pushed him back down into his corner. "How are you going to tell him? That you used Fred and George's probably-not-approved invention to eavesdrop on Professor Snape's private conversation with a student? We'd be expelled before Snape was even questioned! We need real evidence, something that can't be dismissed."
'Evidence?'
Harry felt a slow smile spreading across his face. He reached into his pocket, then pulled out a crystal ball emanating a faint glow from his robes.
The recording crystal ball!
"You recorded it!?" Hermione said in complete astonishment, her voice rising before she caught herself and lowered it again. She stared incredulously at the crystal ball in Harry's hand with wide eyes. "When did you—how did you—"
"While we were listening," Harry explained, feeling rather proud of his quick thinking. "I remembered I still had it."
Harry nodded, his face showing a trace of relief and satisfaction. Come to think of it, because the device still needed improvement and fine-tuning, he'd never actually returned the crystal ball to Colin as promised. He hadn't expected it would come in as such useful handy today.
Just moments ago, while eavesdropping on Snape through the Extendable Ear pressed to the door, he'd quietly recorded the sound from the device directly into the crystal ball, holding both of them together. In other words, that entire conversation between Snape and Malfoy, every word had been recorded!
They had irrefutable evidence.
Ron's mouth fell open comically. He looked at the crystal ball glowing in Harry's palm, then at Harry's face, and exclaimed in absolute delight, his voice was full of vindication, "Merlin's stinking socks! Harry! You're a bloody genius! Let's see that old bat try to deny it now! Let's see him talk his way out of his own words!"
"When are you planning to go to Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. "We should go during his office hours, or—"
"Now." Harry made the decision immediately. The longer they delayed, the worse it would be for them—and for Hogwarts. What if Snape discovered they'd been listening? What if he did what Voldemort planned?
"Right now. We can't wait."
Without further delay or second-guessing, Harry carefully put the crystal ball back in his pocket, making sure it was secure, and the three of them quickly left the Gryffindor common room. They headed briskly toward the headmaster's office on the castle's eighth floor.
Just as the three were preparing to guess candy names at the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office and Harry was about to try "Fizzing Whizzbees"
The stone statue suddenly moved aside with a grinding sound.
"I haven't said anything yet..." Ron looked bewildered, his hand still raised to speak. "How did it—"
However, the gargoyle wasn't moving aside for them at all—someone was coming out from inside the spiral staircase, descending from Dumbledore's office above.
A tall, thin figure in black robes with greasy hair hanging in curtains around a sallow, unpleasant complexion appeared before the three of them.
Severus Snape.
Harry felt all the blood in his body freeze instantly, turning to ice in his veins. His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. He instinctively clutched the crystal ball in his pocket tighter.
Of all the terrible luck—Snape had been meeting with Dumbledore. Right now. Right when they were coming to expose him.
Snape's cold, dark gaze swept over the three frozen students, taking in their guilty expressions, their stiff postures. His eyes were like black tunnels leading nowhere pleasant. Finally, his attention settled on Harry's pocket, where his hand was clutching something, and one eyebrow rose slowly.
A tense, suffocating atmosphere filled the air.
No one moved. No one breathed.
Harry wanted to pretend everything was normal, to just greet Snape and walk away, but then Snape suddenly took a step toward him. He extended one pale hand, palm up.
"Potter," He said with no expression whatsoever on his face, his voice was flat and cold, "give me what you're holding in your pocket. I suspect you're concealing contraband items. Possibly dangerous ones."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority that made disobedience seem impossible.
Harry's heart tightened. What he'd feared most was happening—the absolute worst-case scenario was playing out in front of his eyes.
"Professor, this is just a... um... a Remembrall," He tried to explain.
"I don't want to hear pathetic explanations, Potter." Snape cut him off mercilessly, his voice was cold, and his outstretched hand showed no sign of withdrawing. "Give it to me. Now. This instant. Or do you need me to take it myself with magic, and have Gryffindor lose another fifty points for resisting a professor's direct orders? Perhaps detention for a month as well?"
The threat was in the air.
Harry had no choice but to comply. With trembling fingers, he slowly pulled the crystal ball from his pocket and placed it in Snape's waiting palm. He could only pray desperately in his heart that Snape didn't know how to activate it—perhaps he'd mistake it for an ordinary magical trinket, just a pretty trinket, nothing important.
Ron and Hermione stood to the side, barely daring to breathe, looking like they wanted to sink into the floor.
Snape took the crystal ball, and examined it with an investigative gaze. He turned it over slowly, studying it from all angles. The corners of his mouth seemed to curve into a slight, knowing arc—not quite a smile, but something worse.
Harry's heart sank.
Then, under the three students' horrified, helpless gaze, Snape curled his fingers and tapped the surface of the crystal ball twice with his knuckles, neither too lightly nor too heavily.
Tap. Tap.
As if triggering some hidden switch or activation sequence, the faint light inside the crystal ball began to swirl and intensify, brightening rapidly. A clear voice emerged from within, filling the corridor:
"Your father managed to send another message this morning, Draco..."
It was Snape's own voice, perfectly reproduced, coming from the crystal ball.
For a moment, no one spoke. No one even moved.
The world seemed to have stopped turning.
But the recording continued relentlessly, playing out the entire conversation with clarity. Harry could see Snape's expression growing increasingly ugly with each passing second, his face was darkening, as if someone had thrown a Dungbomb into his brewed cauldron and then forced him to take a deep gulp of the foul mix.
His jaw clenched tighter and tighter as his own voice continued to betray him.
The recording played on.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the recording played the last line—"Now, go" followed by the sound of a chair scraping against stone.
Then silence.
A deathly, oppressive silence lasted for nearly half a minute. It felt like an hour.
The crystal ball's light dimmed back to its gentle glow.
Snape's face was absolutely unreadable now. But his knuckles were white where he gripped the crystal ball.
"Um..." Harry finally asked weakly, trying to break the horrible tension. "Can I... can I have the crystal ball back now?"
"Eavesdropping on a professor's private conversation," Snape said softly but somehow more menacing than if he'd shouted. It was like a serpent's hiss, deadly and cold. "Using unauthorized magical devices to record said conversation. Invading privacy with malicious intent."
He paused then said. "For your egregious and despicable invasion of privacy, fifty points from Gryffindor,"
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