The Hogwats Gaijin

The Headmaster’s office lay in half-darkness, relieved only by the flickering of instruments on the shelves and the quiet, cosy crackle of logs in the hearth. Late evening had long since slipped into night.

Severus Snape stood at the window, arms folded across his chest, his black-robed silhouette as motionless as a statue. Dumbledore sat behind the Headmaster’s desk, a faint, elusive smile playing about his lips — the very one that usually drove Snape to fury.

‘Work is boiling in the dungeons, Albus,’ Snape broke the silence. His voice was dry and sharp. ‘If you summoned me merely to admire your new silver trinkets, I should be grateful if you would come quickly to the point. I have no time for your theatrical pauses.’

‘Oh, Severus,’ Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. ‘Your diligence is commendable. But the matter is indeed serious. Almost everything is ready for the Second Task. Agreement has been reached with the lake’s inhabitants, and I sincerely hope your stores contain sufficient Warming Draughts and potent healing compounds. February water in Scotland is a harsh trial.’

Snape gave an irritated twitch of his shoulders.

‘Of course. I prepared everything necessary a week ago. Is that all?’

‘I fear not. Something more will be required,’ Dumbledore sighed and removed his half-moon spectacles, polishing them on the edge of his robes. ‘You see, Severus, a problem has arisen with the hostages.’

Snape raised an eyebrow; cold interest glinted in his eyes.

‘A problem? As far as I know, the candidates were selected. Miss Chang for Potter, young Gabrielle for Miss Delacour, Herbert Fleet for Mr Diggory… Surely there has been no difficulty with Viktor Krum?’

‘In a sense,’ Dumbledore replaced his spectacles. ‘Igor and Madame Maxime are unanimous that the only suitable hostage for Mr Krum can be Miss Granger. Viktor has shown her… a very lively interest. They were together at the ball, and Karkaroff insists it is the most obvious choice.’

Snape shrugged indifferently.

‘I have not the slightest wish to discuss Mr Krum’s tastes. From the Tournament rules’ standpoint it is logical. Miss Granger is the person he would miss most. Where, then, is the difficulty?’

Dumbledore silently drew from the stack of parchment a single sheet in an envelope with a broken seal and handed it to Severus. Snape took the letter reluctantly and began to read. After a moment an expression of ironic bemusement crossed his face.

He read aloud, giving emphasis to the most weighty phrases:

‘…Hereby the House of Morgan formally asserts its right of protection over Hermione Jean Granger… Any physical or magical harm inflicted upon Miss Granger, as well as any unjustified restriction of her liberty, shall be regarded as a direct act of disrespect and aggression towards the House of Morgan…’

Snape lowered the letter and looked at the Headmaster.

‘Quite in the old style. Polite, yet with a distinct taste of steel at the throat. Since when have the Morgans begun scattering “protectorates” over Muggle-born students?’

‘The missive arrived at the beginning of the year, Severus,’ Dumbledore replied quietly. ‘And now I find myself in an extremely awkward position. On one hand, this is a serious legal and magical document respected even in the Ministry. On the other — to forbid the organisers from choosing the obvious hostage… It would provoke a diplomatic scandal. The Tournament is already proceeding in an atmosphere of… some tension.’

Snape gave a short, cold laugh.

‘If Granger so much as catches a cold in that ice-hole, Morgan’s solicitors will arrive at Hogwarts faster than you can say “lemon drop”. That will be quite the headache. But — only your headache, Headmaster.’

‘Which is precisely why I urgently require your assistance, Severus,’ Dumbledore leant forward. ‘Prepare additional strengthening potions especially for Miss Granger. And, more importantly… I am obliged to notify the family of her participation in the task. The moment they learn she will be a hostage, a representative of the House will arrive at the school to personally oversee her safety.’

Snape grimaced, already anticipating the answer.

‘And you wish me to escort him?’

‘I cannot ask Alastor — he is far too… direct for such a delicate matter,’ Dumbledore smiled his mildest smile. ‘But I trust you as an old comrade and master of Occlumency. You are best suited to keep watch over our guest.’

‘Guest?’ Snape frowned.

‘Oh, I am quite certain you will be delighted to see your favourite pupil.’

Snape’s lips twisted in a sour, barely perceptible smile more like a grimace. He turned without farewell and left the office. The click of his heels on the spiral staircase sounded like the chords of a funeral march.