Chapter 110: The Invisible Guardian
“Hello, sir!” Jon Hart slowly turned his head. Staring into those pitch-black, hollow eyes, he said calmly, “I believe we haven’t met before.”
“Is that so?” A flicker of contempt passed across Severus Snape’s eyes as he said coldly, “Then why did you tremble just now when I entered this room and mentioned ‘Hogwarts’?”
At the same time, Snape had already drawn his wand. Though it wasn’t pointed directly at Jon, his intentions were clear.
Jon took a few steps back, suppressing the urge to curse. How could it be such a coincidence? He’d only come to visit an old acquaintance, and now he’d run into a Hogwarts professor! And out of all four possible professors, it had to be Snape... What kind of twisted plot was this?
And what was he supposed to do now? Pull out his wand and fight Snape? That would be beyond foolish. Not only did Snape already have his wand out and the upper hand, but even in a fair duel, how much chance would Jon really have against someone as gifted and experienced as Snape?
And worse—his wand was far too distinctive. The moment he drew it, everything would be exposed. Perhaps it would be wiser to drop his wand, fall to his knees, and plead for Snape’s mercy!
I need to think of something...
Forcing a confident look onto his face despite his racing heart, Jon met Snape’s gaze without fear.
“Perhaps you owe me an explanation, sir,” Snape pressed, stepping closer.
“Of course!” Jon smiled. “Professor Severus Snape—the youngest Head of House in the history of Hogwarts, Head of Slytherin, and a potions master renowned across Europe.”
“Then tell me who you are!” Snape barked, raising his wand.
Jon spread his hands calmly to show he carried no weapon and meant no harm, then spoke slowly. “I doubt there are many wizards in Europe who wouldn’t react upon hearing the name Hogwarts...”
“...especially when I learned Miss Pavlov had been chosen by Hogwarts. Forgive me.”
“Who exactly are you?” Snape’s voice softened ever so slightly.
“As you guessed, Professor Snape,” Jon said with a smile, finding that the more he acted, the more convincing he became. “That’s right—I belong to an ancient order, a discreet society devoted to watching over young talents.”
Before Snape could respond, Jon suddenly raised his voice. “From the day Miss Pavlov was born, she was destined to be remarkable, destined to become a brilliant witch... until a small accident occurred a few years ago.”
Snape frowned, but before he could speak again, Jon continued.
“Though she has left her homeland, we have never abandoned her!” Jon’s tone grew solemn and weighty. “Over the past few years, one of my missions has been to watch over her in secret; to shield her from trauma, to prevent her from despising her magic and suppressing it, to ensure she doesn’t turn into something uncontrollable...
“You know as well as I do—an impoverished child in a foreign land is bound to face hardship. None of us want to see tragedy strike.”
Jon bowed deeply, a faint smile playing at his lips as he added, “So if you wish to address me, Professor Snape, you may call me ‘The Invisible Guardian.’”
In truth, Jon was gambling. Professor Binns had once mentioned in History of Magic that many Ministries of Magic across the world had their own secrets and peculiar traditions... but beyond that, Western wizards knew almost nothing about such organizations.
So Jon bet that Snape hadn’t paid much attention in class, and knew far less than he did. Thus, this fabricated identity might just sound plausible enough.
Snape shot him a skeptical look, his mind clearly lost in thought.
“My apologies for deceiving you all this time...” Jon turned to Sergei and his daughter, bowing slightly as he spoke:
“Allow me only a farewell salute.”
Sergei Pavlov rose unsteadily to his feet, his mouth hanging open, at a loss for words. Then, he watched as the tall, lean man saluted him solemnly and said in a deep voice, “Thank you—for watching over the young”
“Then I shall take my leave, Professor Snape,” Jon said, turning to nod at him. “Hogwarts is an excellent school of magic. I only hope that after seven years there, Miss Pavlov will not forget her roots.”
With that, Jon slowly stepped out of the room. Snape stood silently, watching the back of the so-called “Invisible Guardian” as he disappeared... as if deep in thought.
The only sound left in the room was the muffled sobs of Sergei, wiping his eyes.
...
After leaving Pavlov’s home, Jon remained on guard. He kept walking until he was far away... and Snape had not followed.
Jon could hardly believe it himself—that he’d actually managed to bluff his way out of that!
In his previous life, his second foreign language had originally been French, and he’d studied it for a few weeks... but on the advice of others, he’d set it aside. So he could still manage a few simple phrases... though any more than that, and he’d surely be exposed.
He never thought it would prove so useful here.
Jon wandered through alleys, weaving in and out of crowds, always wary of being followed. After more than ten minutes, he ducked into a supermarket restroom—just as the effects of the Polyjuice Potion completely wore off.
Back in his original form, he stepped onto the street and flagged down a taxi.
“Hello, where to?” the driver asked.
Heading straight back to Southampton would be too early... After all, he was already in London.
“Please take me to Charing Cross Road, thank you,” Jon said.
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