Hogwarts: Chill, I'm Not That Riddle-Chapter 522: When Snape and Dumbledore Are in a Foul Mood

Chapter 522: When Snape and Dumbledore Are in a Foul Mood

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"Your students... certainly have strong personalities."

In a corner of the Entrance Hall, a group of professors and headmasters in robes of various styles stood together, quietly observing the spectacle of champion registration.

Ilvermorny Headmaster Fontaine’s gaze rested on Daphne, who was being escorted forward like royalty. His tone carried a hint of something hard to define.

The Hogwarts professors all looked slightly awkward.

The three Heads of House exchanged a silent glance and turned in perfect unison toward the man standing beside them, his face dark and his presence radiating cold hostility.

Your student. Your problem.

Severus Snape had failed to receive Grindelwald’s promise the day before. His mood was foul.

"What’s so surprising about that?" Snape said icily. "From what I hear, if you want to enter the Magical Congress, the first thing they look at is your surname."

"Fontaine is in Trade. Graves controls enforcement. And then there’s Quahog, Fischer, MacDuff, Wilkinson, and the rest. You may not have much in the way of tradition over there, but you’ve certainly mastered fighting over territory like stray dogs. If you’re going to accuse others of throwing their weight around, you might want to check whether your own hands are clean first."

"Miss Greengrass is simply well-liked. Popular, if that concept isn’t foreign to you. Do you always wander into other people’s houses and start lecturing them, or is this a special occasion?"

Fontaine’s face shifted from pale to yellow, then to outright black.

He had not expected Snape to go straight for the throat and insult half the American magical world in a single breath.

They weren’t even on the same level. He was Headmaster of Ilvermorny. Snape was merely one of four Heads of House. Not even Deputy Headmaster.

Were the locals always this rude?

Clearly displeased, Fontaine turned to look at Dumbledore, complaint written plainly in his eyes. He expected the Hogwarts Headmaster to offer some explanation.

Before he could speak, however, Dumbledore calmly cut in.

"Severus is quite right. Miss Greengrass has always been... well-liked. She is not a schemer. The students treat her like a little sister and dote on her. Anyone who understands the situation would not call her ostentatious." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

A soft snort of laughter slipped out.

Okeye and Madame Maxime both failed to suppress their amusement.

Fontaine had tried to use the moment to undermine a Hogwarts student. Instead, both the Head of House and the Headmaster had leapt to defend her. And neither looked to be in a particularly good mood. He had walked straight into a wall.

But like Snape, Dumbledore was in a foul mood.

Early that morning, Aberforth had thrown him out of the house and declared their relationship over. From now on, he would pretend he had no such brother. After that, Ariana had not appeared once.

Dumbledore knew exactly why it had come to this. Still, he could not help feeling wronged.

He had never said he opposed Ariana’s choice. He had only asked for a few days to think it over. Why could neither of them understand that?

Now he had no chance to explain. He was completely isolated.

"Dumbledore, who is left to love you now?"

Grindelwald’s words from decades ago returned like a boomerang and struck him clean through the heart.

His sister had been resurrected, yet he felt lonelier than ever. To be abandoned by one’s own family hurt far more than those long nights spent alone in his office, quietly nursing old wounds.

Fontaine’s timing could not have been worse.

Just then, a gasp rippled through the hall.

Daphne had stepped inside the blue line.

Unlike the others, who advanced in halting, strained movements, her pace was completely unaffected. In just a few steps, she had covered half the distance.

Suddenly, a faint red glow bloomed around her body. The invisible pressure in the air solidified into visible ripples, like waves crashing against an unseen barrier.

Two forces collided violently. Energy pulsed outward in shimmering distortions. Every eye in the hall widened. No one dared breathe.

What shocked them most was how easy it looked for her.

She steadily pushed her protective barrier forward until she stood before the Goblet. With a flick of her wrist, the slip of parchment floated neatly into the blue flames.

Perhaps because the weather was cold, Daphne lingered a moment afterward, holding her hands near the fire as if to warm them.

The blue flames danced impressively, but there was no heat at all.

She looked faintly disappointed, lips pursed, and then turned around and headed back, clearly planning to return to bed.

The onlookers were speechless.

"Big Sis is amazing," Gabrielle whispered, leaning over the railing. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with pure admiration. "She looked way more relaxed than the other big brothers and sisters!"

The little girl had voiced what everyone was thinking. Daphne’s performance felt like it belonged to an entirely different event.

"All right, all right." Tom chuckled, lifting Gabrielle away from the railing and gently pinching her cheek. "You’ve seen the registration. Let’s go grab breakfast in the Great Hall, then we’ll head to Hogsmeade."

"Okay!" Gabrielle nodded obediently, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing her cheek happily against his shoulder.

After Tom left, the Entrance Hall remained packed.

A few more Hogwarts students managed to register successfully. The loudest cheers were reserved for Cedric. He had performed well in last term’s dueling tournament, and now he stood as Hufflepuff’s sole hope.

Even so, when Cedric approached the Goblet, it took everything he had. Sweat dotted his forehead as he forced his way forward. Compared to Daphne’s effortless stroll, the difference was obvious. The younger students watching from the sidelines found themselves holding their breath for him.

Before long, students from the other schools who intended to register began arriving as well.

The true chaos of the Championship was only just beginning.

Beauxbatons went first, led by Fleur. Three girls and two boys followed her. In the end, aside from Fleur, only two girls and one boy managed to place their names into the Goblet.

That result left Madame Maxime visibly displeased. The students she had chosen were meant to accompany Fleur, yes, but they were also candidates she believed capable of succeeding. Yet two of them had still failed.

She consoled herself quickly.

The other schools weren’t faring much better.

A large group from Uagadou came forward. Only ten succeeded. Ilvermorny had six, and among them was Cassandra, the youngest of the group, just a year older than Daphne. But judging from her expression, she didn’t seem particularly hopeful about being chosen.

She had chatted with Tom before. Within her own year at Ilvermorny, she was unquestionably the strongest. But among the upperclassmen, there were still those better than her.

These days, however, Cassandra’s focus had gradually shifted toward business. Her competitive streak had dulled.

Soon after, the students from Castelobruxo stepped forward. Eight succeeded, all strong, well-built boys, except for one girl who moved with the lean, coiled grace of a cheetah.

"Where are Mahoutokoro and Durmstrang?" someone asked.

By nine o’clock, most people had finished breakfast, yet neither school had shown up to register.

"They’re here!"

The Durmstrang students entered first.

A side door opened. Ariana walked in at the front, with the students behind her forming two neat lines, separated by gender.

Today she wore an ice-blue robe embroidered entirely in gold thread. The patterns shimmered against her golden hair, giving her an almost regal air.

Her face was calm as she strode straight toward the Goblet.

Ariana stepped into the blue line without hesitation. A flicker of black mist flashed over her body. Her pace didn’t slow in the slightest. She reached the Goblet, watched as her specially prepared parchment burned to ash in the blue flames, then turned and walked away.

After her, the Durmstrang students filed into the hall.

"That’s it?" Ron said blankly. "Krum and the others aren’t even registering?"

"Is that what you call a guaranteed slot?" Harry muttered, equally stunned. Over a hundred Durmstrang students had come, most of them upperclassmen. Were they really just here for the atmosphere?

In the corner, Dumbledore clenched his fist.

Grindelwald, wicked by nature. This move was ruthless.

If only Ariana registered, then Durmstrang’s champion would have to be her. And if something dangerous happened during the Tournament... well, she wasn’t his sister, so of course he wouldn’t care.

Another invisible sin added to Grindelwald’s name.

In truth, Grindelwald had nothing to do with Durmstrang’s collective decision not to register. Ariana had beaten every one of them into submission herself.

Durmstrang’s culture was nothing like Hogwarts’ relative harmony. Registering when you knew you had no chance would be seen as a direct challenge to Ariana—and that witch would make their lives thoroughly miserable if they tried.

"..."

The Mahoutokoro delegation witnessed the entire scene.

"How domineering..." Hozumi Kamio murmured softly.

She turned to the few students behind her. "You don’t need to register either."

"Yes!"

Though she maintained her usual sweet smile, the students behind her visibly shuddered. None of them dared meet her eyes. They simply stood there, motionless.

Madame Maxime, who had observed this exchange, spoke thoughtfully, "Professor Kamiya, your student appears quite remarkable as well."

"Not at all," Akihiko Kamiya replied modestly. "Miss Kamio is indeed talented, but she is far inferior to your Miss Delacour."

Madame Maxime said nothing more, but she had already decided to look into Hozumi Kamio’s background.

This year’s Championship was shaping up to be absolute chaos. Not a single participant could be underestimated.

---

Meanwhile.

In Hogsmeade, Tom was strolling along, holding Gabrielle’s hand, when he ran straight into Aberforth, who had just finished packing and was flagging down the Knight Bus.

The two locked eyes.

The air turned awkward.

Tom glanced at the luggage, then back at Aberforth. "What’s this?" he asked hesitantly. "Did Grindelwald scare you off from town?"

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