“Cockroach Clusters.”
Professor McGonagall said quietly to the stone gargoyle at the base of the tower.
The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a spiral staircase.
“Go on up, Lorin.
Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Caretaker Filch are waiting for you.”
“Then I mustn’t keep them waiting.” Lorin smiled slightly and bowed politely to Professor McGonagall.
“Thank you for guiding me, Minerva.”
“Just doing my duty.”
Professor McGonagall watched with satisfaction as Lorin ascended the stairs into the depths of Hogwarts castle.
“If only our little lions were more like Lorin.”
Shaking her head, she adopted her stern expression once more and stepped into the castle to prepare for her upcoming Transfiguration lessons…
***
The Headmaster’s Office.
Knock, knock, knock…
“Come in, Mr.
Montmorency.”
Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes swept over Lorin with grandfatherly warmth.
Unlike Fleur’s gaze, which was filled with pure affection, Dumbledore’s eyes were like an X-ray, seeming to pierce straight through to Lorin’s soul.
Fortunately, Lorin was also a master in this field, and equally proficient in Occlumency.
*A master of Legilimency, indeed…* Lorin thought to himself.
Feeling two distinct waves of mental probes washing over him, he kept his polite smile intact.
“Allow me to take a moment to introduce myself.
Lorin de Montmorency.
A seventh-year graduate of Beauxbatons this year, here to apply for the position of Hogwarts Caretaker.”
“Please, sit, Mr.
Montmorency.
We are very pleased with your credentials.
This is merely an informal chat.” A glint of light flashed behind Dumbledore’s half-moon spectacles.
“Would you like something to drink, Lorin?
Tea?
Mead?
Or pumpkin juice?”
“My strict mother has put me on a sugar-free diet, so tea will do nicely.”
“Ho, ho, ho.
Very few young people are willing to drink such a bitter beverage.”
“True, but whether one is young also depends on one’s state of mind, doesn’t it?” Lorin winked.
“Take you, Professor Dumbledore.
You certainly don’t seem like an old man.”
“And what do I seem like?”
“A highly knowledgeable, youthful lover of sweets.”
“The youth of Beauxbatons are always so entertaining.
This reminds me of Madame Maxime…”
“Dumbledore, this is an interview.” A cold voice drifted over.
The emotionless tone carried a thick layer of annoyance.
“Ah, forgive an old man’s forgetfulness.” Dumbledore nudged his glasses up his nose and shrugged.
“Montmorency, might I ask why you wish to come to Hogwarts?” Snape asked coolly.
“With your level of knowledge, surely you are qualified to be a professor at any wizarding school?”
“You flatter me.
But if I may ask a brief question of my own—and you are?” Lorin kept his polite smile, but the warmth did not reach his eyes.
*Rude British people, just as Father said.*
“This is Professor Severus Snape,” Dumbledore beamed, pointing to the greasy-haired middle-aged professor whose hair hung down like curtains, then to an older man who looked highly impatient yet had a rather evasive gaze.
“And this is Mr.
Argus Filch, our current castle caretaker.”
“Ah, Mr.
Filch.
Pleasure to meet you.” Lorin rose and bowed slightly to him before turning back to Snape.
“Professor Snape, good day to you as well.”
“Now that the introductions are out of the way, let us return to the matter at hand.” Snape’s face remained stony.
“I have yet to hear why you want to come to Hogwarts.”
“Because this is an institution founded by four legendary wizards, and the school with the deepest magical heritage in the world.
Is that reason enough?” Lorin extended a hand, revealing his sickly pale skin.
“Though you are the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I assume you have heard of the strange illness afflicting the sole heir of the Montmorency family, Professor Dumbledore?”
“I have heard whispers of it.”
“My father told me that Hogwarts might hold a cure for my condition.” Lorin rested his hand back.
“Besides, watching energetic young witches and wizards every day might bring me some joy.”
“Merlin’s pants…
someone actually likes those miserable little brats…” Filch muttered under his breath.
Hearing this, Lorin quickly turned his head.
“Mr.
Filch, did I say something wrong?”
“No…
no…”
“Carry on.” Filch seemed reluctant to talk to wizards.
He waved his hands dismissively, his eyes darting away.
“Argus is always like this.
Please don’t take it to heart, Lorin.” Dumbledore shuddered from the bitterness of his tea and quickly popped a Sherbet Lemon into his mouth.
“Ah, haha, it’s quite alright.
Hogwarts has a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere.
Of course, I mean no disrespect to my alma mater, but sometimes too much etiquette can make a person stiff…” Lorin took a slow sip of his tea and smacked his lips appreciatively. New chapters come out on novelping . com first.
“So, does Hogwarts welcome me?”
“Naturally, Lorin!” Dumbledore chuckled.
“Hogwarts is always in need of interesting young people like you.”
Snape kept his face partially hidden behind his curtain of greasy hair, his voice remaining devoid of warmth.
“In case that is settled, Mr.
Montmorency, perhaps you should first understand your duties.”
“I am all ears.” Lorin nodded, placing his empty teacup back on the desk.
“First, you will patrol the castle during the day to prevent the students from getting into any accidents.”
“Perfectly reasonable.”
“Second, Mr.
Montmorency, you will need to monitor several gates and secret passages.
After all, there are always troublesome students, and Argus is not as nimble on his feet as he used to be…”
“Fair enough.” Lorin rested his chin on his hand, nodding in agreement with Snape.
“Finally, you must do a patrol of the castle after ten o’clock at night, to deter certain young witches and wizards who might have a habit of wandering after hours…”
“No problem at all.” Lorin agreed with a smile.
A bright, albeit slightly sickly, grin adorned his handsome face, causing Snape to narrow his eyes.
“Very well.
Sign the contract…”
“No problem, Severus.” Lorin signed the contract without so much as a second glance.
“Does Mr.
Montmorency have no objections to the compensation?” Even Snape couldn’t help but ask, frowning at the salary listed on the contract.
Twenty Galleons a week?
In the Muggle world, employers would be strung up from lampposts for paying so little!
“I don’t care about the salary.
After all, I have my own reasons for seeking out Hogwarts.” Lorin seemed much more relaxed now, patiently explaining in a quiet voice, “Besides, my father gives me fifty million francs a week in pocket money.
Hmm, that’s roughly eight hundred thousand Galleons…”
“Alright, discussing salaries is not a good habit.
After all, education is a sacred calling…” Dumbledore quickly cut Lorin off, gesturing that he was free to leave.
“Mr.
Montmorency, remember to report for work in September!”
“I certainly will.” Lorin waved with a smile, turned the doorknob, and was the first to depart.
Filch followed closely behind, eager to leave the place that made him so uncomfortable.
Back in the Headmaster’s office, Snape’s already sullen face looked practically thunderous.
“Dumbledore, I need an explanation!”
Hearing Snape’s low growl, Dumbledore rubbed his temples, feeling a rare headache coming on.
“Severus, you must know…
the combined wealth of the Sacred Twenty-Eight might not even equal that of the Montmorency family…”