HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

“Another year has passed, time flies,” the old headmaster’s voice was as mellow as honey, yet carried a convincing authority. “Before enjoying the sumptuous dinner, please allow this old fellow a few more words.” He winked playfully, eliciting soft laughter from a few of the younger students.

“In this year, the wisdom of each of you has increased—of course, some of you may have increased much more than others.”

Good-natured laughter filled the auditorium, and even Professor McGonagall in the faculty section couldn't help but purse her lips.

"Now, let us reveal the winner of this year's House Cup." Dumbledore waved his wand, and the hourglasses of the four houses shimmered and floated in mid-air.

"Fourth place—Gryffindor, Third place—Hufflepuff, Second place—Ravenclaw, First place—"

He deliberately dragged out his words, and the Slytherin table began to stir restlessly.

Slytherin!

The silvery-green ocean instantly boiled.

Draco Malfoy slammed the goblet down onto the oak table, the crystal base striking the wooden surface with a crisp sound.

His pale cheeks flushed with excitement as he rhythmically stomped his heels on the floor and cast a defiant glance at the Gryffindor table.

Crabbe and Gore, like two moving hills, waved their thick arms and nearly spilled the pumpkin juice in front of them.

Pansy Parkinson shrieked and tossed the silver-green ribbon into the air.

"So far, this is the situation—Slytherin has the highest score..."

Dumbledore's long, silvery beard trembled slightly in the candlelight. He raised his hand to signal the cheering Slytherins to be quiet, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles gleaming with cunning.

“However,” the old principal’s voice suddenly took on a playful tone, “I think everything that happens before the end of the semester should be taken into consideration.”

His gaze swept across the faculty seats. Professor McGonagall straightened her back, Snape's lips twitched, and Sagres raised his glass, concealing a knowing smile.

“Mr. Ron Weasley—” Dumbledore’s voice echoed in the suddenly silent hall.

Ron's face instantly turned bright red, like a red-hot boiler, practically steam was about to billow from his ears.

"He displayed extraordinary tactical talent, directing what can be described as the most exciting wizard chess match in Hogwarts' history." Gryffindor's hourglass suddenly overflowed with rubies. "For this, Gryffindor should be awarded fifty points."

A deafening cheer erupted from the Gryffindor long table. Fred and George leaped onto the benches, tossing their wizard hats into the air; Percy tried to maintain his composure as prefect, but his grin stretched from ear to ear.

“Miss Hermione Granger—” Dumbledore continued, Hermione’s curly hair falling as she bowed her head, obscuring her flushed cheeks, “She displayed remarkable wisdom and courage in the face of fire and trolls.” Another batch of rubies fell into the hourglass, “Add another fifty points.”

Padma Petit whispered in her sister's ear, "I told you she should come to our college."

The Slytherin students' piercing gazes were like knives stabbing into their backs, making them all look like volcanoes about to erupt, their thick necks turning bright red.

“Mr. Harry Potter—” Dumbledore’s voice suddenly became solemn, and the whispers in the Great Hall ceased abruptly, “He has shown extraordinary courage and determination in the face of unimaginable challenges.” Rubies cascaded down his cheeks like a waterfall. “For this, I also award Gryffindor sixty points.”

The cheers from Gryffindor nearly lifted the enchanted ceiling. Lee Jordan jumped onto the long table and began to dance impromptu, only to slide back down after a glare from Professor McGonagall.

"at last--"

Dumbledore smiled slightly: "True courage lies not only in challenging enemies, but also in upholding one's principles in the face of friends."

He turned to Neville, who was nervously clutching his toad. “Mr. Neville Longbottom, for risking ridicule and isolation to stop your friend from breaking school rules, I award you ten points in Gryffindor.”

The entire auditorium fell into a brief silence, which was then followed by even more enthusiastic cheers.

Neville sat there, dumbfounded, until Seamus gave him a hard shove, bringing him back to his senses. Gryffindor's total score had now surpassed Slytherin's by ten points, and the red and silver hourglasses shimmered with strikingly different lights in the candlelight.

“I think,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, “it’s time to give the Great Hall some new decorations.”

He clapped his hands, and Slytherin's silver-green banner instantly transformed into a golden and red lion. Thousands upon thousands of golden and red balloons floated down from the dome, and the fat monk's ghost excitedly crossed the long table.

Professor McGonagall adjusted her wizard hat with composure, Professor Flitwick clapped excitedly, Professor Sprout smiled gently, and Snape managed a forced, awkward smile.

Sagles smiled wryly, feeling that the Academy Cup had lost its prestige as a result.

After all, the power to grade rests solely with the professors. Snape's favoritism and Professor McGonagall's strict impartiality are not really that different.

Because this is essentially a battle for the right to define the standard of "excellence".

As for Dumbledore temporarily adding points to Harry and the others, reversing the outcome, it directly demonstrated the trampling of rules by authority.

In this situation, what is the significance of this trophy that symbolizes honor?

Sagres rose and left the hall, his robes trailing an elegant arc behind him.

Dumbledore's tricks left him feeling utterly bored—although it was certainly amusing to see Snape's greasy old face turn blue with rage, such a childish way of making judgments was simply unbecoming.

“Professor! Professor Greengrass…”

The young wizards' shouts came from behind. Sagras turned around and saw the trio chasing after him, panting.

"Is there something you need, gentlemen?" Sagrais asked with a smile. "At this time, the heroes of Gryffindor should be enjoying the cheers of victory in the Great Hall."

The three exchanged awkward glances, looking somewhat embarrassed, and their joy faded considerably.

“Professor, we really didn’t know Professor Dumbledore would give us extra points…” Harry began, “We all knew you had already given us extra points, but…”

"Come on!" Ron's red hair blazed like flames as he instinctively retorted, "Snape inexplicably added at least two hundred points to Slytherin's score! And we're only..."

“Ron!” Hermione suddenly looked up. “That’s not the problem. The problem is that something…something…something is not in accordance with the rules…”

The little witch struggled for a long time before finding a less harsh wording.

Sagrass couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing. Clearly, these three young wizards had indeed grown considerably. They weren't blinded by honor; instead, they had keenly perceived something far deeper.

However, this was Dumbledore's decision, and they had no reason to feel ashamed of it.

He gently waved his right hand, and the heavy curtains in the corridor were slowly drawn back by an invisible hand, allowing the orange light of the setting sun to gently stream in through the glass.

"Relax..." he said softly, "The Academy Cup is just a children's game. Its purpose is simply to teach you to follow the rules so that it can be managed more easily."

"Ah! Is...is that so?"

A look of bewilderment crossed the faces of the three, clearly dispelled by Sagles's few words.

The professor in the black robe calmly looked at them, pointed to the exquisite hourglass on the auditorium's dome, and said earnestly, "The glitter of those jewels is but a fleeting moment of brilliance; true glory lies not in the hourglass, but here—"

He pointed his wand at the young wizards' chests.

"The courage and wisdom in your hearts will not change because of the increase or decrease of your grades. That is also Dumbledore's purpose in doing this—I think he just wanted to reward your outstanding courage."

After all, the former principal originally planned to award each of them a "Special Contribution Medal," but it seems that in the end it was changed to bonus points.

Harry: "So..."

“So you can enjoy all of this without any guilt, without worrying about whether it’s in accordance with the rules,” Sagrais said with a smile.

“I don’t quite understand…” Ron scratched his head. “What you’re saying is too profound, Professor.”

"Simply put, it means following your heart, even if the hourglass reaches zero," Sagres explained.

A raven fluttered down from the end of the corridor and landed lightly on his outstretched arm, a letter in its beak.

"Now, enjoy your feast and the wonderful holiday that is just around the corner."

With a wave of his hand, he "shooed" the three young wizards back to the Great Hall. Then, Sagrais turned and walked toward the library, his figure gradually disappearing at the end of the corridor.

Fortunately, he had read many books on "success" before his transmigration, so he was more than capable of convincing a few underage wizards, at least in terms of giving them value.

As Sagles walked, he thought to himself...

Chapter 49 The Gathering of Bronze Feathers

Night fell, and the stars were hidden behind thick, dark clouds.

In the dense forest, Sagres, clad in a black cloak, carefully traversed the thicket of thorns. The hood concealed most of his face, revealing only a pair of deep, sharp eyes.

This was his first time here. Along the way, there were thick vines and poisonous mushrooms. He also saw several Muggles who had accidentally eaten hallucinogenic mushrooms and were chatting energetically with tree stumps.

Those people looked like they were camping; I don't know how they found their way here.

He reluctantly sent it out of the forest, and he arrived at his destination almost at the last minute.

An ancient mountain village stood alone deep in the forest, the air filled with a nauseating stench.

Sagres passed through the fence and arrived at the gate of the manor. Two silent wax guards stood at the entrance, staring at him stiffly.

He slightly raised his chin, revealing a badge engraved with a raven, and the wax figure guard immediately opened the door respectfully.

The candlelight flickered in the hall, illuminating numerous figures, most of whom had cleverly concealed their faces. Some wore grotesque masks, while others, like Sagres, were completely shrouded in heavy cloaks.

Sagles glanced around and realized that he seemed to be the last one to arrive.

"Look who's here!" A cold, hoarse voice came from the hall.

The speaker was an evil black wizard who had been wanted by the International Wizarding Federation for fifteen years, and whose code name in the Bronze Feathers was "Shrike".

The other person was sitting leisurely on a floating Persian carpet, tossing a gold coin in his hand repeatedly.

"I heard you've become a professor at Hogwarts?" Shrike asked jokingly.

Sagles gave him a cold glance but did not reply.

The members of Bronze Feather are a mixed bag, and some of them represent endless trouble, so he didn't want to waste his breath on them.

In the hall, the kestrels and thunderbirds were wearing masks, the nightingale was wearing a cloak, and the snowy owl was wearing a white fur coat, which made him stand out in the crowd.

She did not try to conceal her face. In her words, how can a businessman do business if he hides his face?

Sagres's gaze swept over the familiar figures one by one, then he nodded slightly in the distance to indicate that he had arrived.

“Alright, now that everyone is here…” An elderly man with gray hair clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention.

"Let's take our seats now, we have some new members joining us this time..."

The group sat down at a large oval table, and the old man smiled as he introduced a middle-aged woman they didn't know to everyone.

"This is a new member, codenamed Wren (if you don't know, just recognize half of it ?????). She has extremely high expertise in magic locks, and is especially good at breaking various complex sealing spells."

The middle-aged woman was clearly nervous, as she hadn't made any effort to dress appropriately. Urged by the elderly man, she awkwardly stood up and greeted everyone, but received few responses.

Seeing this, the old man stood up again, smiled kindly, and said, "Raven, since you're the last to arrive, why don't you introduce the newcomers?"

Sagles neither refused nor stood up.

He simply leaned back in his chair, pointed expressionlessly at the man who had just spoken to him, and said in a cold tone, "Shrike—a wanted criminal, a dark wizard, with a large bounty on his head."

Ignoring the other person's angry glare, he continued pointing at the next person.

"Swift, a spellbreaker, specializes in finding magical relics."

The young man he pointed to quickly stood up and nodded to the newcomer, "Wren".