Meetings

43. Headmaster

Rowena entered the conference room, plastering a smile to her face as she shook the hand of one of her least favourite wizards who stalked the planet, the Headmaster’s of Durmstrang, another newly formed school somewhere up in the north. Of course, nobody knew Durmstrang’s location, just as nobody but its founders could locate Hogwarts.

“Good morning, Philippe, I’m glad we could meet,” she began.

“Yes, well, we need to discuss the students we educate in magical lore,” he replied, although from his sour expression Rowena guessed his views did no differ from Salazar’s.

This would be a long morning.