Excitement and nervousness filled the hideout as Hannah and I prepared to leave. The girls surrounded us, some encouraging us with forced smiles, others reciting warnings like worried mothers… though their advice left much to be desired. Some gave us small gifts for the journey: Susan, for example, handed us a bag of cookies she had baked that very morning, getting up early just for that, looking at us with deep sadness and a clear reluctance about our departure as she gave them to us.
The hugs and farewells seemed never-ending. Some of them acted like we were leaving forever; their red eyes and tears were enough proof. As for me, I was calmer… or at least I pretended to be. Still, I didn't waste the moment: I enjoyed the hugs, the caresses, and the extra affection.
Not long after, Professor McGonagall entered the Lair. With her firm but kind tone, she called Hannah and me to change into Muggle clothes and head to the headmaster's office. The other girls, reluctant to part ways, asked to come with us, but the professor only allowed them to wait outside in the courtyard. After all, this was just a stop along the way.
Hannah, who had seemed calm at first, was now visibly nervous. She walked closer to me than usual, clinging to the fabric of my clothes as if seeking stability.
When we arrived at the office, they were already waiting. Neville was there, looking a bit uneasy but steady. Professors Snape and Sprout—our respective heads of house—were also present, along with McGonagall. I wondered if Professor Flitwick felt excluded, since there were no Ravenclaw students on this trip.
Of course, Dumbledore was there as well. But he wasn't alone. Beside him stood the Brazilian professor… Marco? Marcelo? Honestly, I never remembered his name, and I hadn't bothered learning his students' names either.
"So you're finally here," said Dumbledore with his usual calm smile. "I hope Mr. Weasley and Miss Abbott are ready to depart."
I noticed that when he looked at me, even though he kept his kind expression, his eyes hid more intense emotions. It was hard to decipher them all, but indifference wasn't one of them.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy your time at my beloved school," said the Castelobruxo professor, stepping forward with a wide smile and placing a hand on Neville's shoulder. "And don't worry—beyond dealing with the mischievous Caiporas, you won't have any real danger to worry about."
His tone was polite, but everyone in the room could feel the veiled jab aimed at Dumbledore. Though he didn't say it outright, it was clear he was referring to the various incidents that had recently shaken Hogwarts. The only thing saving the exchange program's reputation was the fact that no students from Castelobruxo had been harmed. Still, the shadow of criticism lingered over the school. Dumbledore maintained his smile, but it was tight and forced.
Hannah and Neville, for their part, didn't seem to notice the political battle being played out between the lines. Perhaps that was for the best.
The meeting was nothing more than a formality—a final review. Most of what was said had already been discussed beforehand. The Brazilian professor kept talking about the wonders of his homeland, the ancient traditions and rich culture of Castelobruxo, and—without saying it openly—hinted at a rivalry with Hogwarts.
Our heads of house gave us advice, warnings, and words of encouragement. Well, to Hannah and Neville, at least. My conversation with Snape was short and to the point:
"Don't embarrass us," he said with his usual dry tone.
I nodded, and he did the same. We didn't need more. We understood each other with few words. After all, in another life, we were friends… bros, as we used to say.
Of course, he didn't hold back from delivering one last verbal jab:
"At last, we're rid of you—even if only for a while."
I smiled, because coming from him, it almost sounded like a heartfelt farewell.
Dumbledore gave us the final instructions, reminding us—though we already knew—that we would be traveling with Professor Kettleburn, who was waiting outside with the Portkey. As usual, he mixed practical advice with philosophical phrases like: "You'll discover as much about others as you will about yourselves." His words were clearly directed at Hannah and Neville once again. I, on the other hand, received a different kind of treatment. Not necessarily hostile, but definitely different—as if my presence were a delicate matter. It was well-disguised… but obvious to anyone paying close attention.
Once the talk was over, we headed to the courtyard, where more people were waiting. The girls were there, gathered to say goodbye, along with Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean—Neville's dorm mates—plus Fred, George, and Percy. Among the adults, along with Professor Kettleburn and Hagrid, our families were also present. Yes, Hannah's parents, mine… and Neville's grandmother. It was a pleasant surprise for them, though unexpected.
Each of us immediately went to our families. In my case, I followed mine just to avoid standing around awkwardly, though I didn't feel particularly emotional. Hannah ran to her mother with excitement, starting a very enthusiastic goodbye. Neville approached his grandmother cautiously, like someone bracing for a surprise test, and received her usual batch of strict advice.
I greeted my parents with just enough sentiment to avoid dragging things out, though my mother clearly wasn't on the same wavelength. She hugged me so tightly I thought I'd run out of air, while my brothers laughed at how red I turned. They weren't sure if it was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen.
"I'm proud of you," my mother said, tightening the hug before letting go to caress my cheek with tenderness, holding back tears. "Bill would be thrilled to see you fulfilling his dream of going to Castelobruxo."
"Just don't get lost in the jungle," Fred said with a mocking grin.
"Yeah, you'll be so far away, we'd probably give up looking for you," George added, keeping the rhythm.
"He's not going into the jungle," Percy interrupted, annoyed. "He's going to study, to learn, not to fool around. In fact, I'm glad it's him and not one of you," he added, referring to the twins—though it was obvious that a bit of envy gnawed at him for not having had a similar opportunity.
"Yeah, sure, he's going to study real hard—just like a certain brother who'll barely survive his NEWTs," said Fred, rolling his eyes.
"He's the second Percy, lives buried in books, barely manages to get up in the mornings," George added.
"And his eye bags are so big you could stash coins in there," Fred finished.
"Shut up!" Percy yelled, visibly irritated.
I ignored their fight. I preferred to focus on calming my mother, who already looked on the verge of tears at the idea of me going so far away—even though it was only for a few months. I said goodbye to my father too, with a more composed exchange, and then to my brothers, including Ron. He didn't quite know what to say, so he just repeated phrases he'd heard from the others. To spare him the awkwardness, I simply bumped fists with him.
With the little time left, I went over to the girls to give them each a final hug. They had kept a respectful distance while I was with my family, especially Hermione, who still hadn't figured out how to act in her "girlfriend" role around my parents. The look on their faces as they saw me say goodbye to so many girls—without greeting a single guy, and noticing none came to see me off—was… unforgettable. Priceless.
I also took the opportunity to undress a bit. No, I didn't strip down completely, just removed extra layers and unnecessary accessories for the trip. Some of the girls thought I was doing something inappropriate in front of so many people, blushing as they misinterpreted my movements. The only one who commented was Professor Snape, who muttered under his breath: "Smart boy…"
"Well, we're out of time—it's time to go," announced Professor Kettleburn, checking his pocket watch. "Come on, kids."
The three of us stepped away from the crowd and walked toward him, carrying our pre-packed and magically expanded suitcases—enchanted by the school itself. The professor extended his one good hand, holding an old metal ladle. We all placed our hands on it, waiting for the exact moment the Portkey would activate.
"Do your best, and make Hogwarts proud, wherever you go," Dumbledore said as a final farewell, with his usual smile.
Then the Portkey activated. A familiar sensation took over us: a tug behind the navel that ripped us from the ground. Everything spun around us as we were hurled through the air for a few seconds, and in the blink of an eye...
...
We landed.
Kettleburn managed to land more or less well, although his prosthetic leg buckled under the weight, and he ended up sitting on the ground with a resigned expression. I had grabbed Hannah at the last moment and managed to land us on our feet. Still, as I let her go, she ended up on all fours, slightly dizzy. Neville, on the other hand... well, he greeted the ground face-first. But being the indestructible kid he was, he'd be fine.
"Smooth ride, huh?" joked Kettleburn as he dusted himself off. "Everyone in one piece?"
"Yes, Professor," I replied—just as I noticed a man watching us from a few meters away with a smile.
"Nice landing," said the stranger in clearly labored English.
He was a dark-skinned man, bald, athletic, and no older than thirty. He wore light trousers, a short-sleeved shirt, and sports sneakers. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder, decorated with a distinctive pin marking his affiliation with the Brazilian Ministry of Magic.
"Oh, hello, I'm Silvanus Kettleburn. And you must be Mr...?" Kettleburn asked, extending his hand in greeting.
"Tiago Oliveira," the man replied, shaking his hand, and then looked at the three of us. "You two should take off some clothes," he said, pointing to Neville and Hannah.
Only then did they notice the obvious: the heat was stifling. As soon as they became aware of it, they started sweating, their faces turning red, and they began fidgeting uncomfortably.
Almost immediately, they removed all their warm clothing, gasping for fresh air and wishing for a cold glass of water. Tiago pulled his wand from his pocket and, with a fluid motion, conjured a stream of cool air over them, which instantly soothed their overheated bodies.
"You'll have to get used to the climate here," he said with a relaxed smile. Then, his eyes landed on me, raising one eyebrow… but he didn't move his wand.
Tiago was clearly curious about me. Unlike Neville and Hannah, the heat didn't seem to affect me; only a faint sheen on my skin betrayed the weather. What intrigued him, I suppose, was that I wasn't bundled up and that my outfit—perhaps a bit too fitting—made me blend in with the locals, so generic in style that my origin was untraceable.
At the same time, my metamorphmagus ability, inherited from Tonks, activated. My hair and eyes shifted to a more typical black, adjustments that completed my blend with the environment. But what truly threw the others off was the cap and sunglasses I pulled out and put on without hesitation, instantly adopting a more laid-back attitude. Even my suitcase transfigured into a backpack more suitable for the setting, adorned with pins from "UK","I ♥️ in Paris", Machu Picchu, a soccer ball, and the silhouette of the Andes. Each one looked like a souvenir from a different trip.
My companions and the professor were stunned. The look on their faces was clear: "Who are you, how did you sneak into our group, and what did you do with the guy who came with us?"
"Looks like you'll fit right in," Tiago commented with a slight whistle of admiration.
"Obrigado," I replied, as if it were nothing.