The butterfly

"Professor, it's ahead."

Aurora said, and a rustle came from the root of the magical rosemary that was dripping freely. Snape lowered his wand so that its pale glow floated down with his movement, illuminating the floor covered with semi-decaying leaf litter.

Small, grey objects rolled out of the rosemary bushes and unfurled their soft, round bodies, their tiny black eyes fixed warily on Snape's wand, showing sharp, tiny teeth, and the hair-like spikes on their backs beginning to rise.

"They don't like too much light. It makes them nervous." "Aurora warned." Why don't you break the spell? I'll try."

Snape glanced down at the unhurried creature, waved his wand, and withdrew the lumos spell. Unstimulated by an overly bright light source, the capers relaxed a bit, but still stared at them warily, making high-pitched clucking noises.

Aurora thought about what Newt had written in the book, and walked slowly and tentatively toward it, holding the lamps far away from them. She reached down and grabbed the wet earth, which was sticky with slippery, dark green moss and rain, and spread it evenly over her hands. The earthy smell is said to make them feel safe.

Little by little, she approached the little ones whose spikes were softening, and heard their cries change from scratchy gurgling to soft cooing.

It was dangerous to get so close to the porpoise, but Aurora didn't feel much fear. Maybe it was because of her talent that she didn't think he was going to hurt her, or maybe it was because she knew there was a Potions professor standing behind her.

Every time she had succeeded in taming the magical creatures, she could look back and see Snape slowly lowering his wand.

It gives Aurora the feeling that their seemingly uncaring young professor is not as scary as he seems.

A small, fleshy porpoise waddled up, cautiously sniffed Aurora's hand and rubbed it. Aurora scratched the tip of his nose, he sneezed, and then lay down on the ground, showing his white belly, four little PAWS stretching out. Then the other porpoises saw this and lay down with their white bellies exposed and cooed.

Soon Aurora's pockets and hands were full of rosemary fruit. They were dark brown and round, with a short circle of burrs on the edge of their split mouth.

She put a cleansing charm on her hand and patted it. "I think now we can go looking for the blood-skinned vine, Professor."

The porpoises shook off the dirt and retreated back into the dense rosemary foliage and disappeared.

Ripe magical rosemary fruit, when crushed, gives off an extremely strong aroma that sticks to clothes for a long time and is a favorite of butterfly fans.

Snape's curses burst open the pile of fruit that Aurora had laid in the grass, and its choking aroma burst like a flood that had found an opening. The over-silted aroma mingled with the over-deep vapor of the Forbidden Forest, and Aurora covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve, feeling as if she had been thrust headlong into a pile of cold flowers that had just been fished out of the water.

"Back up." Snape glanced down at her and touched the tip of his wand on her shoulder. Aurora quickly joined Snape in ducking further away from the fragrant pile of fruit.

It was even more difficult than the previous road, with the overgrown moss jostling joyfully together and extending fluffy from the branches into the air. The distinctive damp smell of cool, sticky and shade-loving plants is everywhere.

The butterflies fluttered, their powder glistening in the darkness, and the fine dust they shook off floated in midair like powdered confetti. They gathered beautifully on the pile of rosemary that spilled its juice and seeds.

"They're beautiful." Aurora looked back at the butterflies, barely following Snape's footsteps. "I assume you're referring to powders that produce hallucinations when inhaled, and I'd say you're courageous."

Aurora shrugged. "Oh, you must forgive me. Little girls, when they're young, they like glitter. When they're old, they get better." The little girl's voice was still young and sweet, but her words were funny and old.

Snape glanced back at her with raised eyebrows. The girl was walking happily behind him, deep in the trunk, undisturbed by the forest.

The two men followed the direction of the butterfly and soon came to a place where the vine was growing. It's a parasitic plant that grows as a seedling from decaying carcasses and then gradually moves to nearby trees. The natural enemy is bowtruckle, so it uses the butterfly as its weapon of choice.

As she neared the pile of reddish-brown vines, Aurora held down the sick tea roll in her pocket to keep it from coming out. Snape stepped forward, neatly used the tip of his wand to pick away the overgrown, useless dark green leaves, reached into his pocket, pulled out an old but very useful cutting knife, and began precisely picking out the troublesome joints, cutting through the useful vine in the middle of the collection.

At that moment, a lone butterfly emerged breezily from a gap in the vine, glided along the scent of rosemary from both men and landed on Snape's hand before he could retrieve it, fluttered its wings, and the faint, shiny dust began to disperse.

"Back up, hold your breath!"

"The Potions Professor barked at Aurora, frowning. The next second, a pair of small white hands reached out and half grasped his hand, locking the butterfly in the narrow space between the folded hands, and covering the dust with it.

Snape's mouth twitched and his face began to collapse into its usual gloom. "I think I have made myself clear enough. You should retreat to a suitable distance."

"Yes, Professor, you made yourself very clear."

Aurora crouched down and moved her hands carefully, trying to free Snape's. It's not easy, especially when one accidentally unleashing the little devil inside.

As Snape began to speak, vast masses of pale gold, thinner than sunlight and unreal but full of life, streamed down his eyes, brushed the tip of his nose and the lines of his jaw, cool and soft, smelling of rain and rosemary. The girl's side face was close to him, focused and young, with only her light brown eyes clear and unhurried, especially in the gloom of the Forest.

Snape felt acutely that this was not the look of a twelve-year-old girl.

The feeling of holding a butterfly in my hand is itchy. Aurora pressed her lips together and finally managed to wring the butterfly out of Snape's hand and lock it in his.

"Are you going to hold it for the rest of your life, or are you going to strangle it?" Snape moved the hand the girl had just grasped, squeezed his bottom lip and said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The butterfly's blood causes the animal's skin to burn violently.

"That's his lifetime, too, because butterflies don't live very long." Aurora replied. "As for strangling him, I have no intention of doing so. It's beautiful."

Then she felt the struggle of the butterfly in her hand slowly cease, and knowing that it had temporarily lost its strength, she swung her closed hand forward and opened it. The freed butterfly flew forward in a panic, its glowing powder scattering in scattered spots.

Almost as soon as Aurora opened her hand, a black cloth, faintly scented with potions and rosemary, rolled over her face, blocking out all the psychedelic dust. It was Snape's cloak.

She made a conscious effort to reach for it, but was unceremoniously picked apart by his smooth, hard wand. "This isn't your handkerchief, Field. Don't rub it with your powdery hands."

With that, Snape threw a few incantations into the air that Aurora could not understand and cleaned up the remaining dust, along with Aurora's palm.

As the thin layer of darkness cleared, Aurora looked at the palms of her hands, looked up at Snape, who had just glanced down at her and then turned away from the bloody vines, and thanked him politely, "Thank you, Professor."

Without looking at her, he tossed out four short words: "Your lockdown is over."

Aurora touched the tip of her nose and her eyes drifted a little guiltily as she remembered the reason for her confinement.

Near the edge of the forest, the Thestral bean followed Aurora's scent and fondly brushed its head against her face. When he heard Aurora's name for the thestral, who was already a little older than last year, Snape moved his lips in a slightly mocking way and decided not to comment on the girl's truly unimpressive naming ability.

But no matter how nit-picking he was, Aurora's dealings with Fantastic Beasts had really put him off.

Just out of the forest, a spark with a long tail cut through the night and broke into the dark sky. The jagged face of a faint green pumpkin gradually zoomed in and out of sight. The Halloween revelry at Hogwarts continues.

As they entered the castle, a line of goblins with exaggerated makeup and a magical meteor effect raced past. The sounds of children laughing and playing, and occasional reminders from professors, were repeated. Aurora moved strategically close to Snape, but appropriately kept her distance, all the way uneventfully. As she had thought, with Professor Snape around, no evil would come near to play tricks on her, because he was the most terrifying of beings.

Snape, quickly aware of the girl's use of him as an exorcist, rolled his cold black eyes down at her, still blank and expressionless. When he reached the basement, he trailed slightly and chose the end closer to Hufflepuff.

Aurora was a little stunned, but it was better for her, so she quickly pretended that she did not know anything, glanced quickly behind her at the path to the cellar, and casually followed the man in black.

There's a turn-off in front of you. Go straight in, turn right, and go up the stairs to your dormitory. Snape paused. The undulating tone of his voice sounded pleasantly sinister, and the not-so-bright light clouded the focus of his eyes. "I don't suppose you need a shield now?"

Got caught out.

Aurora touched the tip of her nose and thanked her cordially. "You can't even get the cleansing spells off your body with all that magic foam. Thank you for sending me here, and happy Halloween."

With that, the little girl ran briskly into the corridor, her long hair tumbling from her rain hat shining in the candlelight.

Snape turned and walked back into the cellar.

...

Not surprisingly, the dorm was empty. Everyone was still out on Halloween.

Aurora sets the tea roll on the table, and the little guy is soon fighting with Brett, the black cat. But when Aurora pulls out Salazar's diary and lays it out on the table, rival lovers hold each other tightly and retreat, shaking like Parkinson's disease.

So an awesome character is always awesome, even if he only has a diary, still awesome.

"Happy Halloween, Mr. Slytherin," he said. By Aurora.

Salazar glided slowly across the page, opened her mouth and swallowed the whole sentence. The half-blooming golden snake looked at her, a firework blooming from the tip of its tail, and crashed into the sentence: "Confinement over?"

"Yes, just back from the Forbidden Forest. I want to ask you a question about potions."

"Take it from me, Potions in another life."

"... I mean... Do you know what the vine is for?"

Salazar half cocked his head. "That's what your professor was looking for?"

"That's right."

The Snake slowly scratched his sharpened triangular chin with the tip of his tail, and the large pattern of letters spread out. "It is a potent antidote, but it is equally potent in itself, and is not generally considered as a potions ingredient.

There are only two possibilities for the person who can use this plant to make medicine -- either the person is hopeless and has to take the extreme medicine or take a gamble. After all, the only people that Bloodbark can bring back are people who are normally sentenced to death. Or..."

Salazar broke into a sneer, his long, purple letter poking out and shaking, his bony white fangs flashing. "Or he's got a vendettas with that man."

Aurora shivered. "Poison?"

Salazar squashed the empty, twisted word with a crisp, terrifying effect as he rolled his snake-like eyes. "I told you it was an antidote, but it was a little more toxic. It means it can cure the disease, but the sensation of drinking it is very stimulating."

"The thrill..." The word alone is exciting to watch.

"If you're curious, you can pull a handful and lick it." The snake had a creepy smile on his face.

"... No, you've painted it so vividly that I can almost relate to it."

I just don't know who Professor Snape was planning to use this on? You can't think about that person without looking miserable.

Just then, there was a flutter of birds outside the window. Aurora went to open the window, and Hastings jumped into her arms, cocking his head and cooing as he handed her the letter in his mouth.

Aurora opened it and found a letter from the three Walkers congratulating her on the end of her confinement, along with a small packet of homemade citrus fruit drops from Bill's mother, Mrs. Weasley Molly. Among the many candies, Aurora can barely handle the relatively less sweet ones masked by the sourness.

She dropped one into her mouth, sweet and sour. Aurora answered her letter quickly, and, taking more than half of the box of sweets that Professor Dumbledore had given her that morning, wrapped it in three parts and gave it to Hastings to take home. I heard Bill really liked the sweets, and it was just as well that he didn't have to waste the box on his own.

The bedtime bell rang out, and the castle began to howl.

Anticipating that Caroline and her friends would soon be back, Aurora opened Salazar's diary and began to draw stick figures next to the quizzic-eyed snake.

"What are you doing? Salazar raised his body in alarm and threw a line. After all these months together, he now had reason to suspect that Aurora was once again trying to trap him in a tangle of graffiti in tribute to Van Gogh.

"We still need candy for Halloween." Aurora, with her mouth full of citrus candy, smiled and drew a tiny dot on the page. Then, looking at Salazar's indescribable expression, he wrote next to it, "This is a fruit candy," and included an arrow with a curled tail pointing at the object.

"..." The snake half closed the vertical pupil and showed his teeth. "Boring!"

"It's called childlike innocence, Mr. Slytherin. You know, the children's world is very colorful, they are so happy every day, because very childlike innocence, a little ordinary things can make them happy for a long time. This is the way to live not tired. So if I become an old lady in the future, it will be an old lady with a child in her heart and an easy life."

Salazar waited for the little girl to finish writing, smiling "kindly", "eight years old with childlike innocence that is normal, eighty years old with childlike innocence that is retarded!"

"..."

Aurora was once again struck by the difference in brain circuitry between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, which stretched the limits of human cognitive difference and could fit the Great Rift Valley into it. I don't know how Helga knew this guy and seemed to be on good terms with him.

Remembering that nightmarish poem, Aurora thought maybe it wasn't just "good relations," maybe it was...

"Good night." He wrote.

"... Good night."