Chapter 9: Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

A/N I'd like to thank my new beta-reader, DarkAmber112, for editing, plot advice, and basically being amazing.

Otherwise, I find it necessary to point out that I have tweaked the Harry Potter timeline slightly in this chapter, by altering the date the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students arrive, and also when the Goblet of Fire opens up, for plot reasons. I really don't like changing canon timelines, and don't intend to do it often, so I thought I should just bring it out into the light before I get any reviews pointing it out to me. Thanks for reading!


At some point or another, mid October rolled around, and with it came a boatload and carriage full of foreign students. Kakashi sent a bunshin to the arrival feast, he himself took advantage of the time off classes to train deep in the woods. It was raining that night, and very cold, but he didn't care. The news of the new war had filled him with new resolve, and, despite his initial depression, it had also given him a new strength: something to fight for. A reason to live.

He returned to his dormitory early in the morning, and sent a bunshin to his classes while he slept through the day. After the school day had ended, he woke up in time to meet Professor McGonagall for his last remedial lesson. He was only ten minutes late.

"Mr. Hatake," McGonagall said, and she smiled at him. She had been much nicer to him since the day he had received the letter. Dumbledore had probably told her about the looming new war. "Do sit down."

Kakashi nodded politely and sat down, hiding his bandaged hands in his pockets; they had been badly scraped last night by some rather overzealous training techniques Gai had introduced him to back in Konoha.

McGonagall looked at him for a long moment, before sighing. "How are you, Hatake?"

Kakashi shrugged. "I'm fine, Professor, thank you."

McGonagall nodded. Kakashi knew full well she didn't believe him. "You're looking a bit pale today, Kakashi. The cold weather isn't suiting you well, hmm?"

"No, ma'am. It rarely gets so cold in Konoha." Kakashi answered.

"Mm." She acknowledged shortly, and looked briefly down at her desk, breathing a sigh. "Well, Kakashi, we have reached your last lesson. I am satisfied that you have attained the fourth-year level and that you will be fully competent in all of your classes. I am very pleased with your progress."

Kakashi bowed his head and thanked her.

"But I must express my surprise, Kakashi, that you have managed to keep up with all of your lessons and your homework, and still have found time to sneak out at night until the wee hours of the morning, while maintaining your health to…at least a passable degree. Now, don't even bother to look surprised, Hatake. You were told we were watching you, and you should've known we could keep track of you, and however many duplicates you cared to produce."

"Professor, I—"

McGonagall held up a hand. "I refuse to listen to your excuses, Hatake. Professor Dumbledore wants to inform you that he will no longer tolerate your nightly escapades in the Forbidden forest, and however interesting your duplicates are, they will no longer be permitted in classes to take your place. This is a warning, Hatake. The next time you are found out of bed after hours, you will be physically retrieved by one of the teachers and monitored for the rest of the night. If a duplicate is found in your place during a class, you will again be retrieved, whether you're in your bed asleep or deep in the Forbidden Forest. Each infraction will result in a detention."

Kakashi said nothing. He felt only unsurprised disappointment.

Professor McGonagall's expression softened slightly. "We all understand your need to grieve, Kakashi, and Professor Dumbledore respects that need. But it has begun to compromise your health, and so now he has drawn the line. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. You are to report to the hospital wing, Hatake, to get those hands of yours fixed up. Then you will be sure to be present for dinner tonight, since you missed last night's feast, and breakfast as well."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And furthermore, your duplicates will be needed on guard again, tonight. And Dumbledore says tomorrow, as well. I hope that's not asking too much?"

"No," Kakashi answered. "It's fine."

McGonagall nodded. "Good. Thank you, Mr. Hatake. And, please try to take care of yourself. You haven't been looking well lately."

"Thank you for your concern, Professor, but I'm fine." He forced a smile.

McGonagall nodded. "Alright, Hatake. You're dismissed. And good luck with your classes."

Kakashi took his leave and made his way to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey healed his hands. He sat silently on the examination table as the nurse lectured him mercilessly about how to take care of himself.

"And honestly, Hatake, you look as if you haven't slept for weeks! What on earth have you been doing to yourself? I really ought to have a talk with Professor Dumbledore about you, surely he knows you're ailing with something. You really should spend the night here, Mr. Hatake. Just to get a good night's rest."

"I really don't think—" Kakashi started to protest, but he was interrupted when Pomfrey pushed a thermometer under his tongue. She drew it out several seconds later.

"Hmph! You have a fever, Hatake! Just a degree above normal, but all the same!"

"I'm sure a Pepper-Up potion will fix it," Kakashi said, trying to bargain. He really didn't want to spend a night up here, under the constant motherly eye of this squat little witch and her collection of foul-tasting cures.

"Nonsense, I gave you a Pepper-Up just last week, Hatake, and you were coughing again the very next day. I saw you in the hallways, hacking away."

Kakashi shrugged. "It's just a cold, Madame Pomfrey, please. I don't need to spend the night."

The nurse raised her eyebrows as she finished with Kakashi's hands. "As you wish, Hatake, but you've been in here too many times for me to be at ease. I'll be checking up on you, boy. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kakashi said gratefully. He could send a nice, healthy bunshin to that confrontation when the time came. "Thank you," and with that he hurried from the hospital wing before Madame Pomfrey could change her mind.


The next day passed slowly. Kakashi pointedly showed up at all his classes and attended every meal, and was even in bed in time for curfew the night before. McGonagall looked pleased when he showed up in her class.

By the time dinner arrived, he was thoroughly bored. He did enjoy listening to the conversations of the foreign students, however, until he was dragged unwillingly into one such conversation, by a group of Durmstrang students who were mingling with the Gryffindors.

"You, you are from Japan, no?" a well-built young man asked.

"Yes," Kakashi replied.

"Why have you come all alone?"

Kakashi politely answered, "My country is experiencing a conflict with our neighboring countries. I was sent for diplomacy purposes to form alliances and to learn from this country."

"Ah," the Romanian student said.

"You plan to enter the Tournament?" another student asked.

Kakashi nodded, grudgingly. Of course, he didn't want to, but he had his orders. Of course, his orders were only to try his best. So what if his best, for whatever reason, just simply wasn't good enough? "Yes, I plan to enter." A lie, Kakashi knew. He had absolutely no intention of entering such a stupid and useless competition.

The older boy nodded, and he looked concerned. "You are very young. Very small. Do you think perhaps it is not wise?"

Kakashi shrugged. "I'm not worried."

The Durmstrang students chortled with friendly laughter, and several of them clapped him on the shoulders.

"Our Professor said that you will only be allowed to enter if you can cheat the age-line, because you are so young." Another Romanian student said. "How do you plan to do this?"

Kakashi shrugged again, and twisted his fork absently in his mashed potatoes. "I don't really know yet. I'll figure it out, I think."

The Romanians laughed again, and thankfully the conversation turned away from him and into speculations of what the tournament would entail. Kakashi finished his dinner, and made his escape.


Unbeknownst to Kakashi, Hermione Granger had been deeply offended by a comment he had made to her several weeks ago, at perhaps three in the morning. Kakashi had walked in from the rain completely soaked, and she had been studying for a large test she had that Thursday. She had scolded him about his bad habits, and had challenged him to be more morally righteous when it came to his behavior.

"I thought you were a smart one," he had said, "But it looks like you haven't done your homework." Hadn't done her homework—! Hermione Granger always did her homework, and had always made the utmost effort to be understanding of other cultures! So she had set about to do her homework, and that night, she sat at the dinner table and plotted how to do just that.

After spending hours buried deep in the library, she had made her way through the sparse texts that had been written about Asian wizardry. She hadn't been able to find anything of use, except that Asian wizardry was somehow different from Western wizardry in nature, and that they were far more secretive about their cultures. She had found obscure allusions to ninjas, and something called a "hidden village," and "shinobi." So she had begun researching these "shinobi," and had found remarkably little on the subject. Hogwart's library was enormous, filled with hundreds of thousands of books, and she simply refused to believe that it contained absolutely nothing about these shinobi. Clearly, all the useful information was hidden away in the Forbidden Section of the library. How very disappointing. She would have to work to get permission…but from whom?

"I still don't know why you're going on about him," Harry's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Harry!" Rob responded shrilly. "He's Victor Krum! How could anyone not go on about him? He's the most incredible Seeker the game's ever seen!"

Hermione sighed. "Could you two please be quiet?" she said. "I'm trying to think,"

"About how to get your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Ron said excitedly. "Me and Harry want to get it, too, don't we, Harry?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said with a weak smile. Honestly, he really didn't like the idea at all.

"I'm thinking an aging potion," Ron ventured, "Fred and George have loads of them. But I'm sure Professor Dumbledore's thought of that already."

"Mm," Harry responded passively.

"So, do you have any ideas, Hermione?"

"I'm trying to think of how to get to the Forbidden Section of the library," She replied briskly.

"Not that again," Ron said, "You were going on about that last year, remember? 'All that wasted knowledge!' you said. Again and again."

"I want to find out about Japanese wizardry."

"Why on earth would you want to do that?" Harry asked. "Their exchange student isn't making a very good impression so far."

Hermione winced. "Please don't be so harsh on him, Harry. You know where I stand on the subject."

The boy frowned in distaste. "He's burning things in our dormitory now, did we tell you that? A couple weeks ago. He's a maniac."

"It just doesn't fit together," Hermione said, ignoring Harry's comment. "Why would any country send only one student to represent them, especially such an introverted student as Kakashi? I don't think that's really why he's here. And have you noticed how he never seems to be around, and when you think you know exactly where he is, he pops up somewhere else? It's strange."

"He has no respect for the rules, Hermione. What can you expect?"

"I've read about Japanese ninja arts," Hermione said. "But I haven't been able to find anything at all about what that really entails. That's what I'm hoping to find in the Forbidden Section."

"I think you should just leave the poor bloke alone," Ron said. "If he's hiding something from us, there's probably a reason for it and we shouldn't pry."

"Says you," Hermione snapped, "You're the one who's been pestering him for the past month about how he plans to cheat the age-line."

"Can't we talk about something else?" Harry interrupted. "In case you haven't noticed, he and I don't really get along very well."

Hermione sighed. "You and he really need to make up, Harry."

"Why should I? He insulted my parents."

"He didn't insult them," Ron pointed out, "He just said their deaths were insignificant and that you had no reason to grieve the circumstances," He winced a bit after he said the words, and quickly stuffed a bread roll in his mouth.

"It was just is just as bad." Harry pointed out.

"I'm not agreeing with him," Hermione sighed. "I don't think he actively dislikes you, Harry, but from what I know from psychology, he felt insulted by the display Professor Moody put on. He's obviously seen terrible things, and felt insulted by the insinuation that the Third Curse is the worst death anyone can experience."

"You're looking too much into it," Ron said. "Maybe he just doesn't like Mad-Eye or something."

"He felt insulted," Hermione repeated. "He really just came out and told us, when he started citing all the things Harry hadn't seen. You remember? Many of those were terrible things. He said it himself, that he would see the curse as more of a blessing."

"Then he obviously comes from a pretty screwed up place," Harry grumbled, as he stabbed sulkily at his beans. "If their society accepts death as such as daily part of life that they see a death-curse as a blessing."

"Harry, he's bringing out the worst in you. Every time he comes up in a conversation or walks in a room you get all resentful. It's not couth at all, and I think you need to snap out of it. You're repugnant when you're brooding." Hermione scolded sternly.

"Thanks, Hermione, that's good to know." Harry scowled at her, but his expression shifted in a way that suggested that he was trying to be less repugnant.

"Anyway," Hermione continued brightly, "I think that if someone actually took the time to sit down and talk with him, they'd find him to be a quite intelligent and interesting person, albeit a bit shy."

"Why don't you do it, then?" Harry demanded.

"You know, Fred and George said they found him hanging from the ceiling on his first week, trying to get into the kitchen." Ron interrupted. "Like, he was just standing there, on the ceiling. They asked him how to do it, but he wouldn't tell them."

"That's exactly what I've been wanting to find out about these people," Hermione said, throwing a hand in the air. "What they can do, what their country's magic has yielded. I really want to find out more about these 'shinobi,' because it's so obvious that they know so much that we don't." She glanced over at the formidable-looking foreign guards stationed at the exits of the great hall. She couldn't really tell with the mask, but it looked as though one of them was looking at her. She shivered.

"I wonder what they do when they aren't guarding," Harry said contemplatively. "I mean, they're only on guard when something important's happening, and then they just…"

"Disappear," Hermione finished quietly.

"Yeah." Harry said. And he took a bite of butternut squash.

"They probably hang out in Hogsmeade or something," Ron said. "I've certainly never seen them around the castle."

Hermione shrugged. "Speaking of Hogsmeade, the second trip is coming up! Are you excited, Harry?"

Harry nodded happily.

"Thank god for Sirius Black, eh?" Ron whispered, and raised his glass to the aforementioned fugitive.

Harry and Hermione raised their glasses as well, and the thought of the mysterious foreign wizards eventually disappeared from their minds.