A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

"Because of the Resurrection Stone," Harry sat on the steps, feeling very weak as he thought he had guessed the truth. "Dumbledore has the Resurrection Stone, yes, one of the Deathly Hallows as you remember, its function is to recall the projection of the deceased in the memory of the living. Dumbledore should want to obtain his brother's precious memories, after all, Dumbledore's family now only has these two."

"How do you know?" Ron asked incredulously, observing Harry's expression carefully, "Did you know about this all along? Then why did you follow us into the Chamber of Secrets to search for the Resurrection Stone?"

"I guess it's Dumbledore's request for Harry to keep it secret, isn't it?" Hermione stared at Harry and asked, and Harry nodded silently. Hermione continued, "So Dumbledore's behavior of seeking memories isn't surprising, after all, Ariana had a closer relationship with Aberforth, and her memories would be more accurate, but this should be a good thing for Aberforth, why is he angry?"

"Wait, I'm not clear about something yet," Ron protested, "You skipped a key step, what are these memories for?"

Harry opened his mouth, but Hermione spoke up first, "Classroom seven."

Harry stared at her in bewilderment.

"What? Didn't you think so?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"I thought... Dumbledore wanted to resurrect his sister..." Harry muttered.

"That's impossible, Harry," Hermione said firmly, "How many times do I have to say it? Magic cannot bring people back to life, at least not in the way you hope. Because the conditions simply cannot be met. Wizards who die either become ghosts or their souls enter the world of the dead, continuing on their journey."

"That's what I think," Hermione said, "It should be the most successful method, but I don't think Dumbledore should do this. He should have enough wisdom to distinguish between reality and illusion."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked sensitively.

"Do you think ghosts are alive? What about magical portraits?" Hermione asked rhetorically, "They do have some of the wisdom of the living in some ways, but if you really treat them as living people, you'll be sorely disappointed, even more so the closer you get."

Harry felt uncomfortable hearing that.

He thought of the second brother in 'The Tale of the Three Brothers', in the story, the second brother received the Resurrection Stone from Death, using it to recall the projection of his lover, but he didn't live happily ever after, perhaps he also realized this problem, that the projection of memory is ultimately different from the person themselves, so he ended up in despair and chose suicide?

"You're just speculating," he said harshly.

"We're all speculating," Hermione said.

"Alright, stop arguing, someone's coming up," Ron glanced down and said.

They stood up and continued walking upstairs. At this moment, Hermione was still pondering Aberforth's strange attitude, "Is it because he realized the truth, so he refused to hand over the memories? Does he think Dumbledore did something wrong, even desecrated the dead? I feel something is off, maybe something has been overlooked..."

"Aberforth compromised in the end. He came today because of this." Ron said.

"Oh—"

Hermione suddenly screamed, and Harry and Ron followed her gaze to see Snape gliding over like a huge black bat.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked in confusion.

Snape looked at them coldly.

"I don't need to report my whereabouts to you, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a teacher," he dragged his long robes and looked down at Ron and Hermione from a high vantage point, "And another two points, as prefects, you failed to stop it."

"Unlucky. It's as if he's waiting here specifically to deduct points from us," Ron muttered discontentedly after Snape left.

"I think he just came out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom," Hermione said quietly.

"What? Oh, right," Harry suddenly realized, "I always thought he was teaching in the dungeon. But now he should be sharing a classroom with Professor Babbling, no wonder I've seen him several times in the fourth-floor corridor..."

"He's the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor now, although only one of them," Ron sighed, "But we can have a little hope, take a bet, bet on whether we'll see him next year. Um, to be fair, I think Snape has the upper hand, Professor Babbling is a newcomer, and he explicitly said he'll only teach for one year..."

"Wait, what did you just say?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Ron looked at her strangely.

"...only teach for one year?"

"You just said Professor Babbling is a newcomer," Hermione said slowly, "If Aberforth opposes Dumbledore's actions, and these actions are clearly related to their deceased sister, what else could it be besides memories?"

...

Late at night, in the Headmaster's office, the light was very dim.

"You should consider it carefully, Severus, you are the most suitable candidate." Dumbledore said softly, discerning the figure not far away in the dim moonlight.

Snape stood stiffly in front of the window, like a statue.

"Are you sure, Dumbledore?"

"I'm very sure, my health is not as good as yours, now is the best time." Dumbledore smiled in the darkness, "I have to say, I'm very lucky, Severus. When I need you, you are by my side."

Snape shook his head impatiently, pacing back and forth in the spacious circular room.

"You want me to be an undercover agent again, don't you? Dumbledore!" he shouted angrily.

"Not undercover. You know what I'm talking about, just some necessary preparations." Dumbledore said lightly, "You are a good person, Severus, despite your past mistakes."

Long silence.

"I may not do as you wish. Perhaps I'll turn you in the next moment," Snape threatened.

"It's an option, Severus, but I believe you will make the right decision." Dumbledore said with a spark of joy in his eyes, trusting.

Snape stared at Dumbledore, the two of them staring at each other, one frowning, the other smiling. After a long time, Snape compromised, he raised his wand, pointed it directly at Dumbledore:

"Expelliarmus!"

The old wand instantly flew out of his hand.

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