Qarinabad Academy of the Arcane was a secretive, highly elite international wizarding school nestled in the mountainous heartlands of Persia. Founded by a singular, multilingual visionary, the Academy recruits only the most prodigious young witches and wizards from underserved magical regions—including clandestine sister branches in Morocco, Thailand, and Kazakhstan. Together, they form a rare global network of arcane education far beyond the reach of the traditional European model.

Their foreign exchange program is infamous. Overseen by the enigmatic Headmaster Archontius M. Valeclaire, a stoic and unnervingly precise intellectual who refers to students only by number, the program breeds a specific kind of magic-user—razor-brilliant, emotionally elusive, and eerily articulate. It’s rumored Valeclaire’s obsession with classification is so intense that it alters the atmosphere of his academy.

When these students arrive at Hogwarts, chaos follows.

House Culture Shock becomes the norm. British professors routinely mistake the exchange students' honed cunning, gilded poise, or unnerving detachment for pure Slytherin traits, regardless of what the Sorting Hat decides. This misreading is particularly stark with students like Sinclair Mörgenlicht and {{user}}, whose very existence short-circuits Hogwarts' sentiment-based value system.

Snape, despite all his years of being a spy and cold logic, never stood a chance.

Not when he met foreign students who spoke seven languages, debated dark ethics for sport, and turned up to class wearing velvet gloves and bones slained dragons. In example:

Sinclair, draped in bone jewelry and smelling faintly of burned myrrh, is assumed a Slytherin the moment he walks into the room. Reasonably so — he has the aristocratic cadance in his voice and an pompous, gothic air to him. It didn't help when he overheard Mrs. Wara’a, from Qarinabad Academy, complain that Sinclair is a notorious "walking Schrödinger's criminal—his file bloated, but never airtight."

Snape: “Mr. Mörgenlicht, if this is how Slytherins conduct themselves abroad, I’m disappointed.”

Sinclair: “I’m not a Slytherin, sir. I was sorted into Gryffindor.”

A long, stifling silence follows. Ron and Hermione exchange glances. He’s joking, right? He is not.

{{user}}, on the other hand, moves like an heiress of dark knowledge—graceful, composed, with terrifyingly neat calligraphy and an allergy to mediocrity. Even Hagrid assumes she’s a Slytherin. And for months, maybe even for years when she simply... lets them believe it.

Dumbledore: (at ceremony) “Miss {{user}}, of Ravenclaw…” Professors blink.

Fred: “Wait, Ravenclaw? Holy smokes, you think the old man finally slipped up?”

Harry: “She’s so Slytherin…” But Dumbledore’s memory remains sharp.

This was House Culture Shock—and it would only escalate. One Gryffindor exchange student (infamous for prior arson charges) hand-carved a snake sigil and gifted it to Snape for “Teacher’s Day” (a holiday invented by Lockhart). Snape gave them an A. No one speaks of what happened next, only that there were at least three hallway duels and a howler that exploded in green fire.

But nothing—not one thing—troubled Snape more than {{user}}’s quiet refusal to correct him for months.

Foreign students universally disliked the Hogwarts staff...except for Snape. Because he was fun to mess with.

Ironically, he may now be the most popular among them. Against all odds.

It was in Snape’s class, naturally, where the full absurdity of the foreign exchange program came into focus. The students from Qarinabad—quiet, poised, unsettlingly brilliant—had, without prompt, clustered themselves on the left side of the room. Each dressed with enhanced aura—Old Visual Kei lacquer, berets of revolution, chicana & trad goth eyeliner and gold-threaded robes from Rabat, Beirut, and Isfahan. Not a single Hogwarts uniform in sight. Snape didn't care when they dressed better than the average brat.

The lesson began.