The attacks at Hogwarts were a grim reality, but until then, Albus Dumbledore had managed to keep the threads of the situation under relative control. However, on that day, the board changed drastically. A new incident occurred—one whose political relevance threatened to collapse the very foundations of the institution.
There was more than one victim. Although there were no deaths—petrification remained the trademark of the Heir of Slytherin—the problem lay in the identity of those affected: the exchange students from Castelobruxo.
No one expected it. The young Brazilians hardly ventured through the castle, following the strict orders of Professor Marcos, who watched over them with zeal. In fact, after the first attacks and faced with what he considered "flagrant incompetence" from the Ministry of Magic, Marcos would have already returned to the Amazon rainforest with his students if it weren't for Dumbledore's constant guarantees. But now, it was too late.
In the hospital wing lay two new bodies, rigid as stone, found in the depths of the dungeons. They had been discovered together, ironically fulfilling their professor's order to never separate, not even to use the restroom. Marcos always accompanied them whenever his duties as a guest teacher permitted, but in a fatal oversight while he was teaching a class, the group fragmented. Most unsettling was that the youths had actively disobeyed, taking a side path that no one else noticed. The result was evident and disastrous.
Upon finding out, the Castelobruxo professor exploded. Wand in hand and face flushed with rage, he marched toward the Headmaster's office. He didn't even bother to utter the password; he hurled a direct threat at the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance. Fortunately, Dumbledore, who was already expecting him, opened the door before the school furniture could suffer any damage.
Marcos stood before him, unleashing a storm of insults and reproaches in a frantic mix of English, Portuguese, and Spanish.
"We entrusted the lives of our youth to you!" he roared, sparks of indignation flying. "How can a school function under this level of negligence?! We should have left as soon as the first cat fell! Even the Ministry is unable to track such an obvious threat! You are all incompetent!"
Dumbledore, impassive but with a forced and weary smile, tried to quench the fire. The situation was grave: for a foreign student to be harmed during a diplomatic trip was a devastating blow to the image of Hogwarts, the United Kingdom, and Marcos's own career.
After emptying the venom from his mouth and gasping for air, the Brazilian professor paused for a moment.
"I understand your fury, and believe me, we share your sorrow," Dumbledore said solemnly. "We will personally see to it that your students are treated and returned..."
"None of that!" Marcos cut him off sharply. "At this very moment, I am taking my students back to Castelobruxo; the petrified ones will be treated there. They will not remain another second in this death trap. I don't give a damn about your reputation or the ties between our schools. We are leaving!"
He stormed out of the office, his robes billowing behind him. Dumbledore remained alone, letting out a deep sigh. He knew this was a public relations disaster. He hadn't counted on the Heir choosing international victims. Seriously considering accelerating his plans, Albus decided it was time to give Harry the necessary tools to face the final test before the castle was shut down.
Meanwhile, Professor Marcos arrived at the Hufflepuff common room and ordered his students to pack immediately. He entered his provisional quarters with his nerves on edge, ready to collect his belongings, but just then, the two-way mirror resting on his table activated...
...
Wandering through his office, Albus Dumbledore meditated on the situation. He had to find a way to leak the necessary information for Harry to act, but his options were running out. With Hagrid in Azkaban, he had lost his best lead—though this attack could be used to try and get him out, it wouldn't be prudent to postpone things until he was released. He had to act quickly.
Everything seemed to be getting increasingly complicated. Now, besides orchestrating the forced maturity of a child, he had to endure public scrutiny and the imminent diplomatic collision with Brazil.
It was a heavy burden, even for him. Forcing a child to face a fragment of the Dark Lord was a necessary cruelty, but a difficult one to stomach.
Finally, Albus made a decision: he would move the Quidditch match to the following day. A bit of spectacle would keep morale high while he finished setting the stage for the final act. He needed Riddle to attack again, but this time with an irrefutable clue. He couldn't sacrifice any more students, but he had a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor whose academic utility was zero, but whose readiness for sacrifice—involuntary, of course—served the cause perfectly.
Just as he was about to begin his plans, his office door creaked open. Professor Marcos's head peeked through the opening, wearing a smile that did not fit the man who had left screaming moments ago.
"Excuse me... may I?" he asked with an almost syrupy kindness.
"Professor Gutiérrez?" Dumbledore blinked, adjusting his half-moon spectacles. He had expected the man to leave without saying goodbye, not return with such a countenance.
"Nothing, I just... came to apologize for what I said. I crossed the line," Marcos said, stepping in with a light gait and an attitude bordering on servile. "My words were excessive and, to be honest, untrue. Hogwarts is a glorious institution. You are a magnificent headmaster, and I am sure you have the situation under absolute control. It was just the heat of the moment, you know... nerves."
"Oh..." Dumbledore replied, feeling genuinely confused. "It is... certainly surprising to hear that."
"Not at all! Forget what I said about leaving. It was a childish tantrum. My students cannot afford to miss the opportunity to study at this ancient school," Marcos said, puffing out his chest with feigned pride. "Accidents like this happen everywhere; they are beyond our control. No one can be blamed."
"I am glad you are so understanding. We will welcome them with open arms for as long as they wish to stay," Albus replied, returning the smile while his eyes searched for any trace of the Imperius Curse or Polyjuice Potion.
"Excellent! I must get back to my boys to tell them to pick up their books again. Don't worry, we trust you will solve this... inconvenience and cure the petrified in due time. There is no rush. Castelobruxo and Hogwarts are sister schools, ancient allies! We would never blame each other for such trifles. Good day, Director!"
Marcos practically jogged away, leaving a dense silence behind him. The portraits of former headmasters on the walls remained mute, exchanging looks of absolute confusion.
"What is wrong with that fellow?" one of the paintings finally blurted out.
"Polyjuice Potion?" a headmistress suggested, narrowing her eyes with suspicion.
"It's a trap, Albus! Surely it's a trap!" added another, shaking his frame.
Dumbledore remained silent, fingers steepled over the desk. He kept his gaze fixed on the closed door, analyzing the void. In his long life, he had seen many changes of heart, but never a metamorphosis so abrupt and devoid of logic. Something, or someone, had intervened in those few minutes.
...
—Minutes earlier, in Marcos's room—
"MISSING?!" Marcos roared, pressing his face to the mirror.
"Yes… from what we know, a river current swept them away and their whereabouts are now unknown. It's been several days without a single lead. We can't even venture too deep into the jungle: something is happening, and the Ministry seems unwilling to act. In fact, they are obstructing us… as if they don't want us investigating thoroughly," the voice on the other side of the mirror said.
Marcos felt the floor tilt. Paralysis took over his features as the report grew increasingly bleak.
"Divination yields no results. The professors we send to the area don't always return... I fear the worst. Dangerous groups are moving in the shadows, possibly the same ones responsible for the conflict where the children were lost. We have canceled all excursions and are on maximum alert." The voice let out a sigh that seemed to age ten years. "The loss of contact with the Amazons is the final signal of danger. Without them—our greatest help in that section of the jungle—the hopes of finding those children alive are... slim..."
Marcos swallowed hard, cold sweat sliding down the back of his neck.
"I need you to contain the matter there, Marcos. Calm Dumbledore down before the news crosses the ocean. We must mitigate the impact before Castelobruxo is scarred by this tragedy," the voice concluded before the mirror went dark.
Marcos forced a nervous smile at his reflection. He straightened his robes, practiced his most diplomatic expression, and bolted toward the Headmaster's office, transforming his fury into a mask of hypocritical cordiality.
...
—That same night, in Dumbledore's office—
"MISSING?!" Snape exclaimed, snatching the letter from Dumbledore with a sharp movement.
"That is what the paper says," Albus murmured, watching as Severus scanned the lines with feverish eyes. "Though I suspect they are omitting half the story. They say they will find them soon, that it's a common mishap in the jungle... But knowing that boy, and seeing the radical change in Professor Gutiérrez, I fear the situation is desperate. Furthermore, Katteblurn also had an accident while searching for them and is unconscious; she should wake in a couple of days..."
"How the devil can they lose two students on an excursion? Are they as incompetent as Potter is in my classes?" Snape spat, furious.
"I suppose in a similar way to how two students could end up petrified here," Dumbledore sighed. "Now I understand Professor Gutiérrez's attitude… he likely expects a sort of mutual silence."
"It's obvious that's what he wants!" Snape threw the letter onto the desk as if it burned. "His students are petrified—a temporary inconvenience that happens in even the most mediocre class. But ours have disappeared in wild territory! And we have an injured professor! Who knows how many days they've been lost... They are probably lying to us even about the dates."
"Certainly, we must intervene," Dumbledore nodded, rubbing his temple. His most atypical student remained a magnet for chaos, even on another continent.
"Leave it to me!" Snape growled, beginning to pace back and forth like a caged animal. "I will go there and bring him back by his ears. I will punish him for the rest of his life for being so incompetent as to get lost on an excursion and drag his companion with him! I'm sure they wandered off from the group to play at being sweethearts! He is a public menace... we should never have allowed him to go."
"I don't believe it was his fault, Severus. If Red were directly responsible, the letter wouldn't be so polite; Castelobruxo would be demanding reparations, not asking for discretion. Something larger is happening in Brazil."
"I don't care!" Snape spat, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "When I find him, he will be processing ingredients in my storeroom until his hands are as red as his cursed hair!"
"Severus..." Albus intervened with a certain surprise and intrigue, "are you worried about him?"
Snape tensed, stopping dead in his tracks.
"I am worried about the damage he can cause to the reputation of this school," he hissed coldly. "He has already brought enough discredit to our name abroad. Get me a portkey to Brazil. Now."
Without waiting for a response, Snape swept out of the office in his black robes, straight to his dungeons to prepare an arsenal of survival potions, muttering under his breath the name of the redhead who was, once again, stealing his sleep.