HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Hagrid gave her a grateful look, then invited the three of them, “Why don’t you come sit at my place? Have a cup of hot tea and some of the pastries I just baked to warm you up. You must be starving after walking all night.”

Sagres did not refuse the offer, gesturing for the other two to follow, while he walked beside Hagrid.

“Speaking of which,” Sagres said casually, “how did you teach Aragog to speak? That’s quite a miracle in magical biology.”

Hagrid's expression immediately brightened: "Ah! That's a long process!"

He gestured excitedly, “I kept it in the cupboard in the castle, read it ‘The Little Wizard’s Fairy Tales’ every day, and talked to it… It took two whole years before it finally uttered its first word, ‘Hagrid’!”

At this point, the big man's eyes lit up.

The nightingale and the kestrel exchanged an incredulous look.

“Later…” Hagrid’s eyes dimmed quickly, and his voice grew low, “Later something happened at the castle… there was an attack, and a student… died. At the time, they couldn’t find the killer, and they… they all suspected Aragog.”

He clenched his fist. "But I know it's not! I swear! Aragog would never hurt a student! It knows it's wrong!"

"and after?"

Hagrid took a deep breath, his voice heavy with disappointment: "Then it escaped and hid in the Forbidden Forest. Headmaster Deppet... well, he couldn't withstand the pressure from the Ministry of Magic and the Board of Governors, and he expelled me..."

Hagrid's voice was filled with helplessness.

Ya Ya seemed to sense its owner's low mood and gently rubbed its head against his leg.

Hagrid composed himself and spoke again with nostalgia, “Later, I couldn’t bear to leave it alone, so I spent several months venturing into the forests of Albania and finally found a female giant eight-eyed spider, Mossag… and then I brought it to the Forbidden Forest to keep Aragog company.”

Sagrass shook his head slightly: "In some ways, you can be considered exceptionally gifted."

His tone carried a strange undertone, “You have successfully transformed a Class XXXXX dangerous creature into a talking Class XXXXX dangerous creature.”

Hagrid urgently defended himself: "But it has never intentionally harmed any Hogwarts student!"

“Who knows?” Sagres added calmly. “In its lair, there are at least several human skeletons in varying degrees of freshness.”

Hagrid seemed to have been touched on a sore spot, looking down at his boots: "I...I'll go talk to Aragog..."

Ya Ya felt the invisible pressure in the air and let out an uneasy whimper, its tail drooping down.

“I think that’s unnecessary,” Sagles stated calmly. “We’ve already reached an agreement with it.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Hagrid's crooked little wooden house appeared in front of him.

Beauxbatons' steed was tethered next to Hagrid's cabin, with barrels of malt whisky on the ground.

The four people and one dog walked directly into the cabin, where the warm aroma of the fireplace and various familiar, strange smells wafted over them.

Hagrid clumsily took the hissing, enormous copper kettle from the fire and poured each person a cup of scalding hot, strong tea; the rough porcelain cups looked unusually small in his hands.

“Professor,” Hagrid said carefully, holding his teacup, “about that Umbridge…”

“Don’t worry!” Sagrais said calmly. “If the Ministry of Magic is smart enough, it will remain silent.”

Upon hearing this, Hagrid immediately broke into a hearty smile.

“I told you you’d be fine. Hermione was talking about it with me yesterday.”

He took out some freshly baked crucible cakes and handed them to the group.

As they talked, the topic gradually shifted to the dueling match.

“…A dueling ring is a good idea,” Hagrid said. “The students will definitely learn a lot from it, much better than just reading books.”

“It serves a similar purpose to Quidditch,” Sagles said, taking a sip of tea. “Even if they don’t learn much, it provides a safe and legitimate outlet for the energy of young wizards.”

“You’re absolutely right!” Hagrid nodded repeatedly, then a rare awkward expression appeared on his face, and he rubbed his large, fan-like hands together uncomfortably. “Um… Professor… I… can I apply for a dueling badge?”

He asked the question a little shyly, just like a big kid who wanted candy.

“No problem.” Sagrais nodded calmly. “Headmaster Dumbledore and many professors have applied. It’s just that we might need some small trinkets as a reward for the winner later.”

"Leave it to me!" Hagrid patted his chest excitedly. "Just ask for anything I have!"

Nightingale's gaze inadvertently swept across the hut, noticing the various precious magical materials casually piled up in the corner.

"Those are... dried bioluminescent mushrooms?" she asked Hagrid, pointing to a pile of dark purple dried mushrooms.

"What? Oh, you mean that?"

Hagrid glanced at the mushrooms. "They do glow at night, which is quite beautiful, but hallucinations? No, no. Eating them just makes you sleepy and gives you a really good night's sleep."

The expressions on their faces immediately became subtle. It seemed that Hagrid's powerful half-giant bloodline made him almost immune to these things that were highly poisonous and dangerous to ordinary wizards.

Chapter 155 Dating Tutorial

"Could you give me some?" Nightingale said. "I can exchange it for the clairvoyant potion it has brewed."

"Hey! What are you talking about, an exchange?"

Hagrid immediately waved his hand and strode over. "You're Professor Greengrass's friend. You saved my life in the Forbidden Forest last year."

He casually grabbed a thick cloth bag, dumped all the purplish-black dried mushrooms into it, and handed it to Nightingale, saying, "Take them all. If it's not enough, I'll go pick some more."

After packing the mushrooms, Hagrid's voice suddenly lowered, tinged with obvious shyness, and his enormous figure seemed somewhat awkward.

“Well… there’s something… Professor Nicole… Mrs. Maxim, she…”

Nightingale's cool, clear eyes watched him silently, a hint of understanding flashing within them. She didn't speak immediately, but merely tilted her head slightly, as if confirming his intentions.

"You want her owl mailbox address?" Nightingale's voice was calm, directly hitting the nail on the head regarding Hagrid's thoughts.

"No, no, no! No!" Hagrid quickly waved his hands in denial, his face turning slightly red. "I just wanted to ask about her...of course,"

He quickly added, his voice even softer, "If you could give me her owl address... that would be even better..." He rubbed his hands together awkwardly, as if he could conjure up courage out of thin air.

A faint smile seemed to curve at the corners of Nightingale's lips, fleeting as a moment. She didn't mock Hagrid's clumsiness, nor did she ask any further questions; she simply nodded calmly: "I understand."

She reached into the inside pocket of her robe and took out a small, exquisite silver-gray leather notebook and a slender quill pen that looked like it was made of some kind of black bird feather.

Under the curious gaze of the kestrel, the nightingale skillfully opened the notebook, gently shook the pen, and then the quill tip lightly landed on the page.

"Headmistress Beauxbatons' private owl mailbox is usually handled by her most trusted secretary. The address is: Beauxbatons School of Magic, Pyrenees Mountains, Headmistress's Office. Remember to address it to Mrs. Orim Maxim. The owl's name is 'Silverfrost.' It's best to indicate in French when sending the letter that it should be forwarded."

As she spoke, she quickly scribbled it down in her notebook with a quill pen.

Then, she deftly tore off the page, skillfully folded it into a delicate triangle, and handed it to Hagrid, who was still immersed in surprise and nervousness.

“Here you are, Mr. Hagrid.” Nightingale’s voice was still cool, but seemed to have gained a touch of warmth. “Mrs. Maxim’s address. Have a pleasant correspondence.”

Hagrid held his breath, carefully pinching the small piece of paper between his two large fingers. A bright smile spread across his face, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Thank you so much! Professor Nikia, you are...so kind!" He stammered, his huge body trembling slightly with excitement.

The falcon struggled to suppress its laughter, its shoulders twitching slightly. Sagres put down his teacup and straightened his robes: "Hagrid, regarding this matter, to prevent you from making a mess, I think I can offer you some advice."

Hagrid carefully put the note away, his face lighting up with eager surprise. "Really, Professor Greengrass?"

Sagres nodded. “First, there are a few core principles: First, sincerity is your greatest strength, but your expression needs to be packaged. You need to learn to convey your feelings in a way that Mrs. Maxim can accept.”

Hagrid nodded vigorously, repeating in a low voice, "Sincerity... in packaging and expression..."

“Secondly, understanding is better than talking. Instead of saying ‘I like you so much’ or ‘we are so similar,’ observe what she needs and cares about.” Sagles’s voice was calm and clear.

“Okay, don’t say you like it, just observe more!” Hagrid repeated like a student.

“Thirdly,” Sagres said, his expression becoming more serious, “you must absolutely respect her boundaries and pride, after all, Mrs. Maxim values ​​dignity and propriety extremely. You must learn to uphold her pride at all times, especially in public.”

"Understood! Respect her and uphold her dignity!" Hagrid nodded even more vigorously.

“Fourth, patience is a virtue,” Sagles continued. “Mrs. Maxim is not easily swayed. You need to show sustained and consistent respect and attention, rather than a sudden and fierce offensive.”

“I understand, I’m very patient,” Hagrid assured him.

“One last thing,” Sagres said, his gaze sweeping over Hagrid’s signature furry coat, “you need to improve your self-image a little. It’s not about becoming someone you’re not, but about paying a little more attention to neatness and appropriate attire for different occasions. That in itself is a way of showing respect to her.”

"Wear nice clothes? Would my mole fur coat and furry suit be alright?" Hagrid asked hopefully.

“That won’t work,” Sagres said calmly but firmly. “I suggest you go to Madam Malkin’s Robes in Diagon Alley, or Elegant Wizarding Clothing, and have two well-fitting suits and formal wizarding robes made.”

"Oh, okay!" Hagrid nodded, somewhat disappointed.

“Respect is of utmost importance,” Nightingale advised. “Mrs. Maxim has spent her life trying to overcome prejudice and prove her worth as a witch and headmistress. Any behavior that might be perceived as rude or subservient by her is absolutely taboo.”

“Velise is right,” Sagrais agreed. “Therefore, in any public setting, and even before you have reached a very deep level of trust in private, you must never mention words like ‘giant’ or ‘half-blood.’ This is a red line!! Remember, in any setting, at any time!”

Hagrid's smile froze instantly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he only nodded heavily, his expression becoming extremely serious, even a little nervous. "I...I remember! The Red Thread! I will never mention it! Not a single word!"

He spoke as if making a vow, his voice low and firm.

However, there were just too many points that Sagres and Nightingale had made, and Hagrid's bewilderment gradually resurfaced. He blinked hard, trying to sort out those principles in his mind.

Fortunately, Nightingale was prepared. She stopped her rapidly flailing quill and tore off a piece of paper covered in writing, handing it to Hagrid.

"In short, remember one thing," the nightingale said calmly, "approach her with gentleness, respect, and just the right distance, as if she were the most delicate unicorn."

“Like taking care of a unicorn…” Hagrid murmured, repeating the most vivid phrase, the blankness on his face fading, replaced by a deep understanding.

"I understand!" Hagrid solemnly accepted the paper, a grateful smile on his face.

"Alright, we've had our tea and the business is done. It's time to head back to the castle; I have classes this morning."

As Sagres spoke, his gaze swept over Hagrid, who was still immersed in joy, and he stood up to say goodbye.

Pushing open the wooden door and stepping out of the warm cabin, the slightly cool morning air rushes in, carrying the fresh scent of earth and grass.

The sun had fully risen above the horizon, its golden rays bathing the ancient towers of Hogwarts in a brilliant golden glow.

From the small cabin behind them, Hagrid's excited voice and Babbler's cheerful barking could be faintly heard.

Chapter 156 Black Lake Ice Obstacle Race and Magic Confrontation Championship

The three-school joint duel has come to an end, with all three ancient magic schools achieving their goals.

After discussions among the school principals, they decided to make the Joint Duel Tournament a permanent event, to be held annually.

……

While many young wizards at Hogwarts were still dreaming, the guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had already packed their bags and, under the watchful eyes of the professors and headmaster, quietly departed in the morning light.

The castle finally returned to its former tranquility.