HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Chapter 149 Creatures in the Forbidden Forest

“I was too young and too foolish back then,” Mrs. Snowowt’s voice was filled with regret. “Afterwards, the Aurors of the British Ministry of Magic began to investigate the matter, and I was afraid of being exposed, so… I was bewitched and tried to bribe the officials at the time with the Book of Invisibility. You know, that thing was extremely rare back then, and it was invisible, so it was perfect for ‘gift’!”

"And then?" Even the composed old man, Thunderbird, couldn't help but ask.

"Finally, we ran into a one-eyed Auror," she lowered her eyes, her shoulders slumping slightly, "His demonic eye was incredibly powerful; it could see through anything invisible..."

"So?" the robin asked curiously.

"Caught red-handed, with irrefutable evidence... attempted bribery, disrupting the Ministry of Magic's order, plus the previous supply fraud..." she managed to utter those words, "multiple offenses combined. The huge fine is a minor matter; the key is that the British Ministry of Magic has determined that I am not only a profiteer, but also a dangerous individual who dares to insult their intelligence with 'invisible stolen goods'... So, I 'honorably' ended up on that blacklist of people prohibited from entering the country."

Sagres did not respond immediately. He simply gazed calmly at Ms. Snowow with his deep eyes, making her feel extremely uncomfortable and almost unable to breathe.

Just as Ms. Snowow felt she was about to suffocate, Sagres finally spoke again:

"A hefty fine, and a permanent ban from the UK Ministry of Magic from entering the country to engage in any business activities—what you call a 'punishment'."

He paused, somewhat troubled, "So, Ms. Xuexiao, regarding the idea of ​​the Hogwarts new textbook supply order, I suggest you..."

"What advice do you have for me?" Ms. Xuexiao immediately pressed.

“I suggest you change your identity…” Sagres sighed softly, with a hint of barely perceptible regret. “I fully believe that you have reformed. But in the files of the British Ministry of Magic’s Department of Education, your name is probably still firmly nailed to the top of the blacklist, with a conspicuous label—'untrustworthy'.”

“Actually, this cake is insignificant to you right now, isn’t it?” Stork couldn’t help but interject.

“It’s insignificant!” Ms. Snowow looked up, but then her shoulders slumped again, her voice filled with resentment and disappointment. “But if I could knock on the doors of Hogwarts again, even if it’s just to supply a small portion… it would be like tearing down that damned ban! It’s not just an order, it’s… a pass that would allow me to wash away this shame in a legitimate way!”

Sagres lingered his gaze on her face for a moment.

As a businesswoman who has expanded her business empire all over the world, Ms. Xue Xiao was clearly bothered by this matter—it was not just a loss of profits, but more like a thorn in her heart.

To this end, she even went so far as to reveal her past youthful arrogance.

Moreover, judging from her remorseful expression, she must have truly realized the mistake she made back then.

Finally, Sagres sighed softly, his chin tilting down almost imperceptibly, as if making some kind of compromise.

“…I can try to mediate for you,” he said calmly, “to see if we can bypass the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Education’s usual procedures and complete this deal.”

The disappointment in Ms. Xuexiao's eyes instantly ignited, transforming into unbelievable ecstasy. She almost jumped up from her chair: "You mean... you really want to...?"

Her voice trembled slightly with excitement.

“It’s not a guarantee, ma’am,” Sagres immediately raised her hand, calmly suppressing her excitement, “it’s an attempt.”

“The Department of Education is not monolithic; there are always loopholes. Hogwarts itself, especially the current headmaster and some senior professors, has considerable say in the selection of teaching materials.”

The robin chimed in, "The Ministry of Magic's bureaucracy is bloated and enormous. Sometimes, it's common for subordinates to do the work first and then complete the report later."

……

……

By the time the meeting ended, it was already late at night.

Sagrais, Nightingale, and Red Falcon returned to Hogwarts Castle together.

The damp night wind, carrying the scents of earth and vegetation, occasionally lifted the hems of their wizard robes. A rustling sound came from afar, as if some creature was moving through the bushes.

As we walked through the Forbidden Forest, the conversation naturally turned to the unique and dangerous magical creatures that inhabited it.

As a potion master with an unwavering pursuit of rare materials, Nightingale couldn't help but break the silence: "Is it possible to reliably obtain high-quality octopus spider venom from the Forbidden Forest?"

"You need the venom of the eight-eyed giant spider?" Sagres glanced at her sideways.

“Yes,” Nightingale nodded, her tone somewhat helpless, “the products on the market either have too many impurities or insufficient activity, making it difficult to meet the requirements of high-precision potions.”

“If you need them, you can go and get some fresh ones now,” Sagras said casually, as if he were talking about picking a few mushrooms. “They’re everywhere in the Forbidden Forest; just find a suitable nest.”

Wow! Now?

The kestrel's call suddenly rose in pitch, a mixture of excitement and fear.

Although she was brave, she still had a bit of a psychological barrier to those big, hairy creatures. Then she thought of another rumor, "By the way, I heard that there's a centaur tribe living in the Forbidden Forest? Is that true?"

“Yes,” Sagles’s voice was devoid of emotion, but the kestrel keenly sensed that his tone had subtly turned colder, “a bunch of… self-important, yet short-sighted creatures.”

"Huh?" Red Falcon was somewhat surprised by this slightly derogatory comment. "But I heard Grandpa say that their astrology is very powerful and can predict the future?"

“Perhaps,” Sagres said noncommittally, his steps unwavering, “but sometimes, the ability to foresee the future doesn’t make them see further; instead, it makes them even more foolish…”

He glanced at the surrounding woods and said somewhat sarcastically, "He's lost in the starry sky all day long, yet he's blind to the thorns beneath his feet."

Nightingale nodded and whispered, "Sometimes relying too much on prophecy can blind you to the crisis at hand, thus inviting disaster."

Sagres didn't reply, but just glanced at the tall trees not far away.

The three fell silent for a moment, with only the rustling of their boots on the fallen leaves and soft soil echoing through the forest.

Just then, three tall figures silently appeared in the clearing in the woods ahead.

They had the upper bodies of humans and the lower bodies of strong horses, their muscles flowing smoothly in the moonlight, their manes and tails swaying gently in the night breeze.

The leader was a particularly burly male centaur, who held a spear and stared sharply at the three men—especially Sargeras, who had just made his comment.

The falcon instinctively held its breath, while the nightingale's hand quietly rested on the magic wand at its waist.

The centaurs stood silently, like three sculptures under the moonlight, radiating obvious displeasure.

The lead dark brown centaur took a slow step forward, his horseshoes leaving a clear mark on the damp earth.

"Human wizards... The night wind carries some disrespectful whispers. Are you—profaning the wisdom of the centaurs?"

Sagras stopped and calmly met the other's gaze, his face expressionless: "It's just stating the facts, not an insult."

Chapter 150 Transmigrators Need Flexible Values

The young centaur behind the dark brown centaur immediately let out a low growl of dissatisfaction, pawing the ground restlessly with his hooves.

Their eyes sharpened, even carrying a hint of offended anger.

"Insanity!"

The centaur leader immediately raised his spear, "The mysteries of the stars are beyond the comprehension of short-sighted wizards like you!"

“Carrion is right.”

An elderly centaur with gray mane stepped forward and slammed his spear heavily on the ground. "You humans have short lifespans and short-sighted views. How dare you judge the great covenant between our centaur race and the stars with such shallow understanding?"

He took another step forward, his muscular chest heaving violently in the moonlight, carrying a heavy sense of oppression. "The starry sky is the loom of destiny, the compass of all things. We interpret it, listen to it, and follow the path it guides. As for what you call 'thorns underfoot'?"

He let out a short, mocking laugh, as if he had heard the most absurd joke. "That is nothing but the dust brought about by your own ignorance and recklessness! The stars have already revealed the trajectory of destiny. It is pitiful that you foolish creatures can neither see the revelation above your heads nor the trap beneath your feet. In the end, you will only walk step by step toward destruction."

His voice grew louder and louder, until it shook the leaves.

The other two centaurs then let out low neighs, their hooves pounding restlessly, and angry white breaths billowing from their nostrils.

"As for what you called 'dependence on prophecy'?"

The dark brown centaur coldly surveyed the nightingale, his eyes flashing with contempt. "That is not dependence, but conformity! The direction of the stars is like the course of a river; the wise go with the flow, while the fools struggle against it."

He fixed his gaze on Sagrais's face again: "Now, answer me, wizard! Who gave you the audacity to trespass into the Forbidden Forest, which has been guarded by the centaurs for generations, and to use your worldly tongue to desecrate our faith and wisdom?"

Despite the centaur's aggressive questioning, Sagres showed no fear; instead, he slightly raised an eyebrow.

"Is the speech over?"

He calmly met those eyes burning with anger and arrogance, a hint of undisguised mockery playing on his lips.

“A bunch of self-proclaimed noble creatures, yet they engage in stalking and eavesdropping…” He deliberately slowed his speech, his gaze sweeping over the self-important centaurs before him. “I merely cast out the bait, and you actually dared to take the bait.”

He snapped his fingers, and the spears in the centaurs' hands instantly twisted and deformed, turning into strong ropes that bound them tightly in a moment of shock and anger.

"You ask who gave me this confidence?" Sagres looked down at the bound centaur, his voice icy. "Didn't your companions warn you? Didn't your stars give you any guidance?"

A sharp cracking sound suddenly rang out as bones dislocated.

"Ugh—!"

"my leg!"

“Since you so revere the ‘guidance of the stars’,” Sargeras approached the centaur whose face was contorted in agony, speaking calmly, “then lead the way to your two ‘wise’ chieftains.”

The lead centaur struggled to raise his head, his eyes burning with humiliation: "You... what do you want to do?!"

"What are you doing?" Sagres's lips curled into a chilling smile. "According to the Convention on Wizards and Intelligent Creatures and the Forest Control Regulations, your stalking, eavesdropping, and even attempted attacks constitute serious provocation and infringement."

He paused, his voice steady and cold:

“I demand a meeting with your leaders to formally negotiate the defamation, threats to my person, and emotional distress you have caused me and my companions tonight, and to seek appropriate compensation.”

"Compensation...compensation?!" The centaurs could hardly believe their ears. The immense humiliation almost made them roar again, but the excruciating pain from their hooves only allowed them to hiss and gasp for breath.

“Yes, compensation.” Sagres’ tone left no room for argument. “Velise, make a list!”

Nightingale immediately understood, barely suppressing a smile: "Compensation for emotional distress, damage to reputation, and lost wages for wasting our precious time, totaling..." She glanced at the centaurs bound like dumplings, "...1,500 Galleons!"

Red Falcon, who was listening nearby, was dumbfounded and couldn't help but lower his voice: "Fifteen hundred Galleons? And they want compensation for lost work time? Isn't that a bit too much?"

Upon hearing this, Sagres slightly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the kestrel.

"This is going too far?" Sagrais chuckled, his gaze falling on the centaur's face, contorted with rage, as he spoke slowly and deliberately:

"A centaur is considered a human?"

The kestrel paused for a moment, then decisively gave a thumbs up. "You're right!"

……

Sagres had no intention of getting entangled with the centaurs, but these arrogant creatures had unexpectedly delivered themselves to his doorstep. It was truly a case of a pillow being delivered when one is sleepy.

He gave a wink, and Nightingale immediately used her wand to lift the ropes binding the centaurs, as if leading three stubborn, unruly horses. The kestrel followed closely behind, both nervous and excited, its fingers constantly pressed against its wand.

As they passed through a dense, ancient oak forest, the view suddenly opened up before them. Dozens of torches were lit up, illuminating the settlement of the centaur tribe.

A circular tent made of animal hides and branches surrounds an ancient stone altar, which is engraved with intricate celestial patterns. Further away, steep rock walls are dotted with natural caves, and a few rays of light shine through the cave entrances, adding a touch of mystery to the camp.

"It's you again!" A voice filled with anger suddenly rang out.

Sagres looked up and saw that the speaker was a centaur elder with a snow-white mane. He seemed to have seen him before and had a vague impression of him.