HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Hermione retorted, her fingers unconsciously tapping on her notebook. "Mechanically training students to break twenty curses is not as effective as helping them understand the energy composition of curses. That way, even if they encounter a twenty-first unknown curse, they will have the ideas to deduce a solution on their own. This is a teaching philosophy advocated by Professor Greengrass."

"Professor Greengrass again!"

Chapter 502 Study Abroad

Stinfallis seemed to be provoked by the frequently mentioned name; his face flushed slightly. "We all respect him, Professor Granger. His magic network changed everything! Now most practical exercises can be conducted entirely in the absolutely safe mirror. Shouldn't real classrooms focus more on those aspects that cannot be fully simulated, involving real magical interactions and on-the-spot psychological pressure? I believe my Defense Against the Dark Arts class plays an irreplaceable role in cultivating students' 'courage' and 'instinct' to face real threats!"

The two argued their own versions of events, attracting the attention of several curious students nearby.

Hermione took a deep breath, as if she had made up her mind.

“Well, Mr. Stinfallis, there’s no point in arguing like this. There’s a more direct arbiter—we can ask Professor Greengrass himself. His insights on the integration of magic networks and magical education should be the most authoritative.”

"Ask...ask him directly?"

Stinfairis was clearly taken aback by Hermione's suggestion, and his imposing manner immediately diminished, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Sargeras Greengrass remained a professor at Hogwarts, but he was rarely seen outside of class.

"It was on this train that Headmaster Dumbledore told him that he had been invited to accompany the group as a special advisor for this study tour."

Hermione glanced inside the carriage. "His opinion should be convincing."

Stinfalis hesitated for a few seconds, then finally straightened his neck and said, "Fine, I'll go!"

Just then, a calm and gentle voice sounded from behind them, with a hint of a smile:

What do you want to ask me?

Both of them were startled and turned around abruptly.

Sagres stood in the shadows at the junction, still dressed in simple dark casual clothes, his silver hair neatly combed, his face seemingly forgotten by time, not much different from many years ago, only his eyes were more profound and peaceful.

He was holding a scientific journal that looked like it was published by Muggles, and he was casually flipping through it.

“Professor…” Stinfalis quickly stood up straight, looking somewhat flustered.

Hermione quickly regained her composure and nodded slightly: "Professor Greengrass, I apologize for disturbing you. We are discussing the weighting of Charms Theory and Defense Against the Dark Arts in the lower-level foundation courses. Assistant Professor Stinfallis believes that, even with today's highly developed magic network, the practical aspects of Defense Against the Dark Arts still require a significant amount of real-world class time to cultivate 'realism' and 'courage'."

Sagles closed the journal, his gaze sweeping between the two men before finally settling on Stinfallis's tense yet expectant face.

"The weighting of class time..."

He seemed thoughtful, then raised an eyebrow slightly. "Logically speaking, Professor Granger is right. Understanding the principles is always more important than rote memorization and repetitive training. The principles of enchantments are the foundation; if the foundation is not solid, any building will be in grave danger."

A hint of disappointment flashed across Stinfalis's face.

“However,” Sagles said, changing the subject but still speaking calmly, “Stinfalis’s concerns about ‘realism’ and how to deal with unexpected situations are not entirely unfounded.”

Both of them looked at him.

Looking out the car window at the scenery rushing by, Sagres said slowly, "The magic network does indeed cover most of the inhabited areas of the world, providing an unprecedented safe environment for practice and access to knowledge. The number of wizards has exploded in the past decade or so, and the integration of magic and Muggle society is proceeding cautiously and steadily. Many things that were once 'dangerous' and 'unknown' have been systematized and theorized and incorporated into basic education."

He paused, his gaze becoming somewhat distant: "However, there are still corners in this world where the sun doesn't shine, places where the magic network has not been laid or is unwilling to be laid."

He paused here, then chuckled softly, “There are always some fools who are immersed in old fantasies and reject the new era, or some fanatical groups that have sprung up because of the popularization of magic. They shout ridiculous slogans and are always thinking about how to create trouble to prove that their outdated theories are still useful.”

Hermione hesitated, but Sagrais raised a hand to stop her and continued, "In reality, the defense against the dark magic often deals not with the well-organized dark creatures or standard curses from textbooks, but with the malice and madness of these 'people.' This 'real' chaos and uncertainty, and the mental fortitude required to fight against it, are things that the magic network simulation cannot fully replicate for the time being."

He looked at Hermione and smiled, saying, "You should understand this feeling, because you know it transcends the pages of books..."

Hermione lowered her head, lost in thought.

He then looked at Stinfalis: "So your class is still very important. The key is not how many ways to break the spells you teach, but how to guide students to apply the principles to the complex and ever-changing reality, and how to cultivate their ability to remain calm under pressure. This requires carefully designed real-world training, not just mirror matches."

Stinfalis's eyes lit up, and he nodded emphatically: "I understand what you mean, Professor!"

Hermione paused for a moment, then added, "Perhaps...we could strengthen our collaboration? In my principles class, we could introduce more classic cases from defensive spells as prototypes, while in Professor Stinfairis's practical classes, we could emphasize students' immediate analysis and adaptive deduction of the principles behind the spells they use?"

"A very good idea."

Sagrass nodded approvingly. "Education is a holistic process. By the way, speaking of the widespread use of the Magic Network... what have Harry, Ron, and Malfoy been up to lately?"

Hermione smiled. "Harry and Ron are now key members of the Coordination Department, responsible for expanding and maintaining communication nodes with various Ministries of Magic. As for Malfoy... well, he's now in charge of 'Malfoy Magical Engineering Company,' focusing on the construction of magic network infrastructure and the compatibility modification of ancient magical relics. The business is quite large."

Sagles nodded slightly.

The expansion of the magic network was not without its challenges, but it did gradually connect the entire magical world in an unprecedented way.

The Hogwarts Express's ability to travel the world is only a small part of this grand picture.

The way wizards travel, communicate, and learn has been completely changed, and the barriers between knowledge and magic have been constantly broken down.

Many problems that once plagued the magical world are being re-examined and attempted to be solved within the new framework.

The train passed through a bright canyon, and sunlight streamed into the carriages.

As Sagres looked out the window, he could almost see an invisible network of magic extending beneath the earth like nerve endings.

It connects castles, villages, cities, and wizards of different skin colors and faiths.

Chapter 503 The Grand Finale

The Hogwarts Express, like a menacing centipede, spews white smoke as it rapidly "crawls" along the mountain ridges.

Finally, it came to rest among the misty mountains, where ancient oriental-style buildings appeared and disappeared behind a magical barrier. This was the renowned Kunlun Magic School.

The welcome banquet was grand and exotic, with the unique aroma of tea filling the air.

Albus Dumbledore was conversing fluently in Classical Chinese with the headmaster of Kunlun, while Sagres made only a brief appearance before quietly leaving the banquet.

With a simple apparition, the surrounding scenery changed from an ancient and elegant palace to an ordinary town street with somewhat dazzling sunlight and a touch of hustle and bustle.

He stood in the inconspicuous shadow of a residential building, his gaze fixed on a small community playground not far away.

The swings are rusty, the paint on the slides is peeling, and a small sandpit is the most popular attraction here.

Several children, dressed neatly and probably from nearby working-class families, were playing in the sandpit, building their own castles with plastic shovels and buckets.

One of the chubby boys was particularly hardworking, but his little plastic shovel was obviously of poor quality. When he shoveled hard into a solid block of sand, the connection between the shovel head and the handle broke with a "crack".

The chubby boy picked up the shovel that had broken in two, looked at it with annoyance, pursed his lips, and casually threw it into the green plastic trash can next to the sandpit, which was full of fallen leaves and empty beverage bottles. He then turned around and started playing other games with the other children.

A little boy stood quietly at the edge of the sandpit, near the outside of the rusty iron railing.

He looked to be about five or six years old. His clothes were faded from washing, with obvious wear and patches on the cuffs and knees, but they were still relatively clean.

He kept watching the game in the sandpit, a quiet longing in his eyes, but his feet never crossed the railing.

The little boy's eyes lit up when he saw the discarded broken shovel.

He waited patiently until the children, who had been playing, called to each other and ran towards the convenience store on the other side, laughing and joking.

Only then did he, like a nimble deer, run over quickly, stand on tiptoe, and reach into the trash can to retrieve the two pieces of plastic shovel.

He went back outside the railing, squatted down, and carefully tried to insert the broken shovel head back into the handle on the hard cement ground.

After several attempts, it managed to get stuck, but it was clearly not secure.

He didn't care, and with these broken tools, he began to dig carefully in a small patch of sand outside the railing, sketching some kind of pattern with a focused expression, as if it were the most interesting project in the world.

"Do you know him, Sagrais?" A gentle voice sounded beside Sagrais.

Sagles did not turn around, as if he had expected it.

Dumbledore had also left the banquet at some point and appeared beside him, also looking at the little boy who was focused on playing in the sand, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles filled with curiosity.

Sagres smiled but did not answer immediately.

After a long while, when the little boy used a broken shovel to draw a slightly crooked but imaginative complex shape, he whispered, "No, I don't recognize it."

He paused, then asked in return, "Do you think he's a wizard, Albus?"

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore observed the little boy even more closely.

After a moment, he slowly shook his head, his silver-white eyebrows furrowing slightly: "I didn't sense any trace of magic in him, at least not now. And..."

He glanced around the ordinary, even somewhat dilapidated, streets of the small town. "It seems your magic network node hasn't extended here yet."

Sagrass smiled noncommittally, his gaze still fixed on the little boy, his tone calm yet certain: "He will become a wizard. A great wizard."

Just then, the children who had bought snacks ran back, probably feeling that they hadn't had enough fun in the sandpit.

The chubby boy spotted the little boy outside the railing and the broken shovel he had discarded in his hand at a glance.

"Hey! What are you doing taking my shovel!"

The chubby boy rushed over immediately, his voice loud and full of anger at having his ownership rights violated.

He snatched the two pieces of plastic shovel back from the little boy's hand.

The little boy, dressed in tattered clothes, was taken aback by the sudden snatching. He looked up at the fat boy, pursed his lips, but did not argue or try to take it back.

He simply stood up silently, patted his sand-covered trousers, and turned to leave.

Perhaps it was because of his quiet, even overly submissive, demeanor that...

"Stop! Why did you steal my things!" The fat boy persisted, pointing at his back and shouting loudly.

The little boy stopped, turned around, and for the first time, a clear emotion appeared on his face.

It was a stubbornness mixed with resentment and defiance.

“I didn’t steal it! You threw it in the trash can yourself, and I picked it up!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was very clear.

"Even if you throw it away, it's still mine! If you pick it up, you're stealing!" The fat boy's logic was simple and domineering.

The little boy seemed to realize that arguing was pointless, so he stopped talking and turned to leave again.

The chubby boy probably felt ignored, or wanted to maintain his "prestige" in front of his companions, so he reached out and pushed the little boy hard.

Caught off guard, the little boy stumbled and fell onto the hard cement floor. His palm rubbed against the rough surface, immediately turning red.

The pain and accumulated humiliation seemed to break through the patience at this moment.

The little boy got up from the ground with astonishing speed.

As he got up, he grabbed a handful of dust mixed with sand and pebbles from the ground and threw it at the chubby boy's face!

"what!"