The Triwizard Tournament. The most important event of this year. Severus was to accept the International guests and check the lists upon arrival. The Headmistress insisted it was because of his fantastic attention to detail. Really, it was because Severus didn't object fast enough during the staff meeting.
His lack of attention certainly had nothing to do with the way Hermione had styled her hair that afternoon.
"This year, you won't swim away from extracurriculars," Minerva stated as she thrust the materials into his hands. "You need to get your nose out of the Supply Closet before you become a mop."
The honour of being the Greeter was draped over his neck like a noose. Now he was pouring over the international names on at least fifty sheets of parchment.
What Severus dreaded most was talking to wizards he knew of only in name. Tedious small talk. He could never quite string together a sentence that was not peppered with petty insults or external meanings. He will have to make due and think on the spot.
He fastened the familiar buttons of his capes. He laced up his walking shoes. He clipped on the ridiculous Hogwarts badge Headmistress Minerva made them wear. The four House Animals dancing around a giant, cursive 'H'. The only thing he hated second to small talk was dressing in ridiculous ways.
Smells of sausage and eggs still filled the corridor before the Great Hall. The crowd was bursting in anticipation. Student chatter bounced off the walls like rods on a drum. Severus took a stand outside the door.
He drew coloured circles around all the important names. There was the Headmistress of the Beauxbatons school Fleur Delacouer, then Director Viktor Krum from the Durmstrang Academy. He highlighted the Upper Year students who would be able to join the Tournament Games. He tapped his fingers against his palms as Minerva rehearsed the School Song for the umpteenth time. Why the witch insisted on perfecting that hideous tune was beyond his imagination.
"First years, sit up straight! Why do I still hear talking? Mr. Bates, please…"
Ah yes, that familiar voice. Severus perked up. Hermione Granger's hair looked all the more frizzled this morning. She twitched at every gasp and noise coming from the crowd of rowdy youngsters.
"Well look at that, it's Professor Snape. What is he thinking right now, looking at the lot of you? Do you think he likes the way you're behaving?"
Hermione shot Severus a troubling look.
In return, he gave the Mr. Bates in question a look so ferocious, that even his sidekicks dulled their sniggers. This was more like it. Hermione mouthed him a silent thank you.
It was clear why everyone was on the edge of their seats. The schools in question had not arrived. Neither the flying carriage of the Beauxbaton ladies nor the giant ship belonging to the Durmstrang men. Lunch was long overdue (and for hungry teenagers, one hour was considered long). Even Hagrid was chewing on his beard. Where were their ungracious guests?
"I can't believe this, tardy, tardy, tardy." Hermione checked her pocket watch. "It wasn't like this fifteen years ago, was it?"
"Last time, they were two hours late." Snape smoothed the edges of his lists. "Consider yourself early if it makes you feel any better."
"I told the kids they had to hurry and now I probably look stupid and incompetent."
"It's inevitable in your first year teaching."
She smiled. "I guess I'm too hard on myself then."
Severus had not yet been able to comprehend why she found his words amusing. Why she tucked her curls behind her ears. Or why she sat next to him during staff meetings. It made him feel toads in the pit of his stomach.
He pried himself away from the shape her lips were taking as she scolded some second years throwing airplanes across the Gryffindor table. The other schools were close to being unfashionably late. Fifteen years ago, Karakoff at least had the decency to send an owl to excuse his tardiness. Apparently, his successor had no inclinations to be polite.
And then, Filch who had been by the lake ran inside. He nearly knocked Snape off his feet.
"The ship has arrived!" He bellowed across the hall.
The first years whom Hermione had been taming stood on the table, peering out the window. Flitwick and Sinistra were scurrying to their feet. Even Snape exited the Hall and took a look off the side window.
It all happened so quickly. One moment, the Giant Ship lifted above the surface of the water. The next second, it was in the air. It flowed straight towards the Great Hall and showed no signs of stopping. The trees bent against their will and the Whomping Willow waved its branches.
"ABANDON SEATS! SHIP FULL COURSE!" Filch waved his hands.
The swarm of students, and professors, ran from their seats. The Prefects barely had time to pull the youngsters from getting trampled on by the Fifth Years. Snape watched in horror as the Giant Ship shattered the stained glass of the windows.
It landed its nose dead center of the Hall. The Professors' table had been sliced in half by the giant unicorn on the front.
The student voices died down. All the Hogwarts professors were lined up, wands in their grasp. Severus watched as Hermione furrowed her brows and moved closer to him.
Thick ropes swung down from the decks. A young man clothed in red swung down. Then, three others came down. Viktor Krum, leader of Durmstrang Academy walked over towards them. He was clothed in red and thick furs draped over his shoulders.
"Zdravo, zdvrao Madame Mac-gona-gill. Professors!" He gave Minerva a hug.
"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Krum? Surely this isn't the first time you've driven this ship?" Minerva stiffened in the embrace. "I do hope your men are armed and ready to fix the damage?"
"I afraid, we not able. We have tight schedule." Viktor eyed the rest of the staff. They looked just as bewildered as their Headmistress.
"We extend our apologies, Madame, but we are not able to joining the Tournament. Alas, a big shame! I enjoy very much those little games."
"Then why not send an owl?" Snape spoke for the rest. "Or did the previous Headmaster not teach you to correctly decline invitations either?"
"I am polite man until you cross my path, Mr. Sneg." Viktor's men stood behind him. And they looked menacing. "You have something that I'd like. The Time-Turner. Where is it?"
"Why do you need it?" Now it was Hermione who looked concerned.
"Ger-me-one, you look wonderful today." He bent down and gave her hand a gentle kiss. Severus tightened his lips.
"There are mistakes a man would like to fix." He looked at her for a minute too long.
"I would be happy to let you borrow it, on account you tell me why you need it."
"Or, you can come on my ship together with Time-Turner, and we can fix what we lost between us."
Hermione could not seriously accept this offer. What were the odds she brought the Time-Turner with her to the meeting? She hesitated. She took a step to the side.
Then in a swift motion, Viktor had charmed her arms tight and pulled her into his chest.
"You do not like to play nice? I not play nice. Bring me the Time-Turner or Miss Germeeone will die!"