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The lunch today was sumptuous.

Even for a picky person like Draco, he had to admit that such a standard could already be called a feast.

The students of Beauxbatons had been given a special long table not far from the high dais, and Draco and Emil, who had been chosen as champions, were seated on either side of Voldemort as a sign of the honour of being chosen.

In addition to these, there were journalists from all over Europe who have recently been arriving at the castle in the last few days along with the students returning to school for the start of the new academic year.

They, too, had been assigned a special long table, and these people were all equipped with caras and quill even while they were eating, with flashes lighting up from ti to ti, as if there was already sothing newsworthy happening before the Triwizard Tournant had even started.

Draco knew what their news release tomorrow would be about, and it would be nothing more than the cold reception Dumbledore and his team had received today.

Sothing that the young Malfoy is looking forward to.

After that afternoon of long talks with Emil and his father, his fears about the tournant had subsided, but the impact that Jon had left on his mind that night had been too strong.

It had beco almost a nightmare, and he had awoken several tis from dreams of the sharp fang that had ended up piercing his own throat instead of Aunt Bella's.

The re thought of watching the boy nad Jon make a fool of himself now gave Draco great psychological comfort.

He was even tempted, if the occasion allowed, to sneak out and see the look of outrage and humiliation on the faces of the wanted students when they arrived at Hogwarts Castle and found no one was welcoming them or any hospitality.

In fact, there were many people, not just Draco, who was not in the mood to put a knife and fork into the sumptuous lunch in front of them on the long table filled with reporters.

The lunch had already started before all the schools that needed to co to the tournant had arrived, and not even a single house elf had been arranged to greet them outside the castle, so anyone could see that this was Voldemort's way of giving Dumbledore a hard ti.

After the Blood Pact was made, the Triwizard Tournant could no longer be cancelled, but the tournant is being hosted at Hogwarts Castle, and whether or not Voldemort has the right to occupy the castle, it is he who now holds effective control of it at the mont.

This place is his true ho turf, and as long as it doesn't involve disrupting the tournant, he can easily get Dumbledore and the others upset and annoyed if he wants to.

Regardless of the stance of the journalists here, there is nothing more exciting for journalists than to be in a situation like this, if both sides are at peace, then who would want to subscribe to their newspaper to read about it?

It's the tit-for-tat that sells the best.

The students of Hogwarts Castle, both pure and half-bloods, were also murmuring about it, most of them sporting self-satisfied grins on their faces as Voldemort's actions gave them a great sense of vanity.

According to the Bloodline theory, that bunch of wanted criminals are a bunch of mudbloods, so of whom had even escaped only a year ago.

The students, who had been taught about hierarchy since the beginning of their education, had always felt a sense of superiority as they were supposed to feel due to their upbringing, but the way Jon had behaved that night had been like a heavy hamr blow, creating nurous cobweb-like cracks in their sense of superiority.

What Voldemort had just done was like adding a patch to their already cracked sense of superiority and maintaining the pride of their bloodline.

The mood in the great hall was relaxed.

It was like a normal opening banquet, a party for pro-bloodline wizards.

However, not long after the people at each of the long tables had raised their butterbeer, a loud thud suddenly emanated from the great hall's imposing doors!

The closed wooden door was flung open from the outside with an irresistible force, and a light breeze that flowed through the corridor blew into the great hall with an atmosphere that did not fit into the school at all.

The original noises faded into silence and eventually, the whole hall beca silent.

Jon stood in front of the door with his wand in one hand, his face void of expression as he stared calmly straight ahead, in the direction that no one in the great hall had dared to look directly.

Beside him stood a smiling Dumbledore, who, compared to Jon, seed to be in a good mood, except that it was certainly not for this extraordinary "reception".

And behind the two stood over twenty students from the Hogwarts wagon as well as Durmstrang.

Their faces were devoid of the humiliation and anger that Draco wanted to see, and not even a semblance of frustration could be seen.

The breeze that poured into the great hall from the corridor blew up the hem of their robes, which had been carefully chosen by Lily, their V-cut navy blue hemd jumpers, their white shirt collars, and the red and black ties that McGonagall had carefully checked each and every one of them with before they left, making this group of wanted criminals look more relaxed than anyone else sitting here.

Hermione raised her head slightly, revealing her delicate collarbones and pale neck, her long chestnut hair ruffled by the light breeze as she looked around the great hall, watching the ceiling that mirrored the sky with a posture and gaze that she never had before.

Hardly a single student in the great hall recognized her, not that Hermione hadn't made much of an impression on them, but there was a world of difference between Hermione now and the ragged little girl who had been hanging in front of the entrance hall.

George was also looking at the ceiling of the great hall that mirrored the blue sky, no matter what was different here from what Arthur and Molly had told him, this is the only place that remained the sa.

"I once told you, Tom, that you were the most brilliant student I ever taught, but perhaps I should have taken that back a long ti ago."

Dumbledore looked at the man sitting in the very middle of the long table on the raised platform.

"Having signed a blood pact, having wanted to get this tournant going smoothly, having chosen Hogwarts Castle as the venue, where are the sincerity and courtesy you should have shown as the promoter of this tournant?"

His calm voice echoed through the great hall.

No one knew what kind of changes in facial expression Voldemort currently sported, for no one dared to et his gaze.

But Jon could see it clearly, for Voldemort had been looking at him from the mont he had entered the door all along as well.

Hearing Dumbledore's words, the man who had beco a nightmare for muggle-born wizards across Europe did not show the slightest hint of anger or distaste, and a smile actually appeared on that angular, young and handso face.

A smile that looked like a sneer, but was in fact very subtle.

"Dumbledore, perhaps it is a little too early for you to want to take that back, why don't we wait and see."

His voice was soft, yet the words were heard by everyone in the entire great hall, and as he spoke, his gaze did not shift towards Dumbledore, but remained fixed on Jon.

As his words fell, he gently clapped his palm.

The next mont, a long table appeared horizontally in front of Jon and the others.

The table was less than five tres from the door of the great hall and intersected at a right angle to the long table where the students of both Hogwarts Castle and Beauxbatons and the journalists sat, but was directly opposite to the one where Voldemort and the professors of Hogwarts Castle sat.

What he had just said sounded like a concession for not greeting Dumbledore and his team, but in fact, most people had heard sothing peculiar in it.

But whatever he was saying, it didn't stop Jon from sitting down at the long table.

Once everyone had taken their seats, the sa sumptuous lunch as at the other tables appeared on the table at the sa ti, and it was clear that by this point Voldemort had not bothered to make a deliberate difference in the standard of the al.

The atmosphere in the great hall had clearly changed since Jon and the others had entered.

The original cheerful chatter was gone, and even if there were still students talking, they were only whispering, making the whole great hall sowhat dull and depressing.

All their previous illusions had been shattered, and Jon's entrance had been like a cold reality that had punctured their happiness. There was no such thing as being humiliated, nor was there any embarrassnt at all, because these people had never considered them to be the true owners of the castle.

While the half-blood students, who occasionally glanced towards the Hogwarts wagon and the Durmstrang students, were exchanging glances, a sixth-year half-blood student was staring in the direction of the great hall doors in a sowhat dazed manner.

"What's wrong? Cedric."

A girl at his side asked in a whisper of concern.

It was only then that the boy nad Cedric ca back to his senses and shook his head as if nothing was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong, I just thought of sothing at ho."

This little interlude was not noticed by any more than a few people, and even if it had been, no one would have cared about a student who is only a second-class citizen in Hogwarts Castle and Britain.

The gloomy lunch was soon over; this was not the ti to officially start announcing the tournant, while representatives from all four wizarding schools were present, the three other wizards sent by the International Confederation of Wizards would not arrive until the afternoon.

So after lunch was over, Voldemort didn't bother to give any extended speeches or deliberately sarcastic remarks to vent, but just left the great hall.

Jon and the others didn't stay around long either, or rather Voldemort didn't leave them hanging this ti and sent soone to receive them specifically.

"Ah, Severus, it's been a long ti since we've seen each other."

Dumbledore mouthed words of nostalgia, but neither the tone of his voice nor the look in his eyes was half as nostalgic but rather as flat as stagnant water in a well.

Snape looked as if he didn't care about his attitude, his hollow eyes were as if they would forever remain that cold except in the presence of his lord.

"It seems there was never any need to et between us in the first place, Dumbledore. There are no spaces reserved for you in the castle, and you should not be staying here, so now I will show you to where your wagon should have been taken."

He finished his sentence and volunteered to walk ahead to lead the way.

It did seem that the Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts Castle, Voldemort's most trusted man, had little desire to make small talk with Dumbledore, as he led the way in silence without uttering a word.

Jon had actually been a little curious about Snape's stance in this world.

In a normal world line, he would have been a pathetic double agent, following Dumbledore's orders to infiltrate the Death Eaters and eventually even paying for it with his own life.

But that was in the context of Lily being killed by Voldemort to protect Harry Potter.

Nowadays, it looked like Lily had failed to protect Harry and therefore did not die at the hands of the dark lord, which left Snape with no reason to betray the Death Eaters.

After all, he had originally been attracted to the ideology of Voldemort since he was a student, hooking up not only with the purebloods in his own house but also with Lucius, who was a few years older than him and had long since graduated from Hogwarts and beco a Death Eater, through correspondence.

But according to the exact course of events that Jon knew, Snape would have had a hunch that his lord might not fulfil the promise he had made to spare Lily when Voldemort had gone to the Potters.

So on that night he also went humbly to Dumbledore and pleaded with him to save Lily's life, for which he was despised a little by Dumbledore for not caring about Jas and Harry's survival.

If the point at which history changed was the night Voldemort went to find Harry Potter, Snape would have approached Dumbledore on that night as well.

So, did he make a deal with Dumbledore or not?

And if he made a deal, then why did Dumbledore later ask Slughorn to go undercover under Voldemort?

Even If he hadn't made a deal, how could Voldemort not have known about it, and afterwards not only he forgave Snape, but also valued him so much?

Jon sensed that there was sothing fishy about it, but from what he could see at the mont, he couldn't figure out what was wrong.

Asking Dumbledore directly would be even less feasible, as Jon would have no way of explaining how he knew that Snape had approached him that night, and the most he could do was to ask, indirectly, what kind of man this Severus Snape was.

But even if he would ever ask a casual question, it wouldn't be now.

Snape led the group out of the castle and walked along the Black Lake in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, finally stopping at a secluded place, what could already be considered the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.

And here the Hogwarts wagon remained, with Hagrid sitting in the driver's seat staring at the dense woods in a daze.

"Your area of activity is limited to this, which would be plenty enough for the few of you, no private entry into the castle without permission, no private entry into the Forbidden Forest. The entire Forbidden Forest has been sealed off in preparation for the upcoming tournant, so you couldn't get in there even if you wanted to, but let remind you that if the rules are broken then we have the right to enforce our rules on those who break them."

Snape's voice was cold as he spoke the last part of the sentence.

----

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