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“But why?” Alecto rolls her eyes at the portrait behind the Headmaster’s desk. Dumbledore emits a gentle snore. “Let Amycus have it for target practice. After all those years, haven’t you earned some…privacy?”
Snape suppresses a shudder at her suggestive leer. “No doubt the frame alone carries several protective hexes. And I prefer having him here to witness my triumph.”
“Have it your way.” Alecto shrugs and stands. “I’ve got a detention waiting.”
The moment she leaves, Dumbledore opens his eyes. “Who is it this time?”
“Longbottom,” Snape answers, resisting a sudden urge to turn the picture to the wall.