HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

“Whether it’s building schools or dissecting monsters—” she glanced meaningfully at Slytherin, “it all takes strength.”

……

……

"Now that we've eaten and drunk our fill, let's get to work!" Gryffindor wiped the foam from his beard, then suddenly stopped. "Um... what kind of castle are we going to build?"

Ravenclaw flicked his wand, and a miniature clay model of Hogwarts Castle appeared, spinning around. The castle's bricks gleamed with magical light, and the spires of its towers cast long, thin shadows in the moonlight.

“Brilliant!” Gryffindor’s eyes lit up, his longsword pointing to a tall tower. “This place looks perfect for Gryffindor’s tower! I’ll be in charge of designing the castle’s defense system. To be honest, I have a lot of ingenious ideas in my head. For example, I want to build a moving staircase, and I also want to design some moving armor and statues in the castle to help patrol and protect the school…”

Gryffindor chattered on and on, gesturing excitedly, before finally reaching out and patting Slytherin on the shoulder. "Salazar, what about you?"

Slytherin remained silent for a long time, his pale finger finally pointing to the huge crater at the edge of the model, created by Sargeras's meteorite strike: "There." His voice was somewhat hoarse, "My house will be built down there."

"I'm telling you... you're not thinking of slacking off, are you?" Gryffindor grabbed his shoulder, a knowing look on his face. "Let me tell you, don't even think about slacking off. You'll have to help build the castle too!"

Slytherin calmly brushed his hand away and said expressionlessly, "I will be in charge of the entire castle's underground water system!"

He then pointed to the charred pit, "And I'm going to fill this pit with water to raise some...experimental subjects."

"Helga, what about you? Where do you want to build it?" Gryffindor continued to ask.

Hufflepuff handed a few drinks to the little wizard by the campfire, while gesturing with his chin.

“This is it!” she said with a smile, pointing to a spot right next to the kitchen. “I’ll be in charge of all the students’ and teachers’ meals.”

“You can’t manage all this by yourself, you still have to teach!” Gryffindor shook his head with his arms crossed.

"I'll try to find some help. Actually, I already have some ideas in the works." She winked playfully. "And I also need to build a few greenhouses; some rare medicinal herbs require special climates..."

“No problem, just put it here!” Gryffindor pointed with his longsword.

Hufflepuff smiled and nodded, then turned to Ravenclaw: "Royna? And you?"

“I want to build an observatory to observe the stars…” Ravenclaw said calmly, pointing to the highest point of the castle, “Right here.”

Her wand emitted a beam of light, projecting a phantom image of a library onto the castle. "I will also take care of the library; knowledge needs the most stringent protection."

“No problem! I’ll bring you some books back with me…” Gryffindor interjected, “Those people would be happy to entrust their books to me for safekeeping. To be honest, I think only the largest library is worthy of my Gryffindor intelligence!”

Slytherin rolled his eyes at this, and even Hufflepuff couldn't help but cover his mouth and chuckle.

……

"So, what courses should we offer?"

"I'll take charge of the dueling class!" Gryffindor drew his sword sharply, the blade tracing a silver arc in the moonlight. "I'll teach them the technique of fighting with wands and swords simultaneously!"

Ravenclaw calmly stated, "I will teach Charms."

"Defense against the Dark Arts!" Slytherin's voice carried a hint of coldness. "But to resist the darkness, one must first understand it."

“Then I will teach herbalism…” Hufflepuff gently handed the last piece of roast meat to the young wizard, saying without turning her head, “A wizard must understand the gifts of the earth.”

"Yes, we need some more staff to teach other courses, otherwise we'll be exhausted..."

……

When the conversation turned to admissions criteria, Slytherin suddenly tapped his wand on the ground, making a crisp sound: "We must be clear—not every child who can swing a wand is worth nurturing."

His cold gaze swept over the crowd. "How many of those Muggle-born will eventually become witch hunters for the Church?"

“Salazar!” Gryffindor said dismissively, “That’s only because they had no choice! Give these children a home, and they will protect Hogwarts with their lives!”

“A beautiful fantasy.” Slytherin curled his lips in a mocking smile. “Then each of us will choose our own path. My house only accepts descendants of wizarding families—at least their loyalty is bound by family magic, and they won’t raise their wands against their parents.”

"Then I'll choose the bravest!" Gryffindor pounded his chest, the thuds echoing in the night. "Only the bravest warrior dares to face the dragon!"

"Where are you two?"

Ravenclaw pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "I want some bright children... because I want to teach them some profound magic."

Everyone nodded, and finally turned their attention to Hufflepuff.

Ms. Hufflepuff's voice remained gentle, but this time it carried a rare hint of firmness.

“I like loyal and honest children…” she said, “but children who have nowhere else to go can come to my academy!”

She glanced at the other three people, then at the children whose eyes were darting around, and had never expressed her opinion so forcefully before: "Every child who comes here should have a home. Hogwarts should be their safe haven, not another insurmountable wall!"

Chapter 59 The Reunion of Two Geniuses

The instant the time converter restarted, Sagres felt a strange sense of disconnect—

His mind was like being immersed in sticky honey, each thought requiring a great deal of effort to overcome numerous obstacles; yet his body was incredibly light, as if every movement had been accelerated by a spell.

The scene before my eyes began to fast forward wildly:

The four giants waved their wands, creating a dazzling net, and the castle's foundation stones sprouted from the ground like bamboo shoots under the influence of magic.

The crater was quickly filled with azure lake water, reflecting the shadows cast by the tower's spire.

Figures flashed by like a revolving lantern: young wizards carrying heavy books moved back and forth in the corridors, and newly hired professors in flowing robes crossed the courtyard, some of them looking curiously in the direction of Sagrais—as if looking through frosted glass.

When the torrent of time finally subsided, Sagres staggered and slumped into an armchair in his office.

He pinched his brow hard, and his mind and body finally synchronized again.

He trembled as he unbuttoned his collar and examined the skin on his chest—no scars, no marks of curse, even the silver embroidery on his cuffs was intact.

The Ptolemaic planetarium lay quietly in his palm, its bronze surface still retaining a warmth that did not belong to this era, as if telling him that all of this was not a dream.

"Wait!" Sagles frowned, looking puzzled. "Why are you in the office?"

He suddenly turned around, swung his wand violently, and the oak door slammed open. In the corridor, another "self" was gradually becoming transparent, like a fading oil painting.

"Tsk, it really did take a minute!"

He closed the door and carefully put away the time converter.

Then, this usually energetic professor suddenly drew the curtains, then collapsed heavily onto the bed and fell fast asleep.

……

……

Time flies, and Hogwarts soon entered the new school year. During this time, Sargeras did not forget to secretly take action to eliminate the scourge of the Bronze Feathers.

Not long ago, he received a letter from Nightingale, which briefly explained that she had officially taken up her post as Professor of Potions at Beauxbatons, along with a newspaper.

The front-page photo in the Daily Trailblazer shows Aurors from the French Ministry of Magic proudly displaying captured bronze badges.

"The three-year manhunt has finally come to an end!" The gold-embossed letters in the title leaped merrily. "The infamous 'Bronze Feather' organization has been completely wiped out!"

In the corner of the photo, a mask pierced by a spell lies silently in a pool of blood.

The report details the "thrilling siege"—how the stronghold was located through "reliable intelligence" and how a deadly spell was "forced" to be used during the battle.

Interestingly, all the deceased could be found in the International Wizarding Federation's wanted files... and so the matter came to a perfect end.

……

During his summer vacation, Sagres traveled almost the entire European continent in search of clues to the Dust of Time. From the Dragon's Blood Black Market in Bulgaria to the Ancient Rune Institute in Norway, he found nothing.

If all else fails, he'll have to temporarily infiltrate the Bureau of Mysterious Things to borrow some things for now, but it's alright, his research isn't urgent, he has plenty of time.

In the last week before the start of the semester, he went to Diagon Alley with his last hope and unexpectedly bumped into a familiar figure in the rare book section of Flourish and Blotts—Giddro Lockhart, who was adjusting his golden curly hair in front of the mirror.

In Sagles's impression, this person's talent was mediocre. If there was anything different about him, it was that he was better at self-marketing than academic research.

Sagles had seen the other man talking loudly in the common room on more than one occasion, boasting about achievements that didn't even exist.

Upon graduation, he wrote a sentence in the Ravenclaw common room with magic ink: "Don't be surprised if you see my name in the newspaper one day—that's just the beginning of my glorious life."

At the time, most of his classmates described him as "a joke who should be locked up in St. Mungo's psychiatric ward."

But things took an unexpected turn, including for Sagres.

After graduating, Lockhart traveled the world and published his first book, "Wandering with the Venomous Horned Beast," which brought him instant fame.

He subsequently published "Breaking Up with the Female Ghost", "Traveling with the Ghoul", "Walking with the Troll", "Boating with the Vampire" and his autobiography, "Me Who Has Magic".

Sagres had read through most of the books, and apart from the last one, the others contained some genuine content. He felt that his former senior might not be entirely useless after all.

But now, this Ravenclaw alumnus seems even more flamboyant than before—

The violet robe was adorned with at least twelve glowing medals, and with each step, glittering gold dust would fall.

Sagres instinctively tried to avoid it, but the other party recognized him precisely.

“Merlin! Isn’t this our genius junior?” Lockhart’s voice was like honey-coated cheese, so sticky it made one’s scalp tingle.

The newly published hardcover copy of "Me Who Has Magic" on his chest was automatically turning its pages, displaying the exaggerated illustrations inside.

Sagres still vividly remembers that when he first entered the school, this sixth-year senior almost got expelled for using a forgetting spell on his roommate (making the roommate forget that he cheated on the exam).

When he was caught, he used the same sickeningly sweet tone to plead with the professors.

Sagles wanted to say something to shut the other person up, so he casually asked, "It's you, about the Romanian witcher you mentioned in your book 'Sailing with Vampires'..."

Lockhart's lips twitched involuntarily.

"Oh! My dear junior, you actually read it carefully!" He suddenly put his arm around Sagrais's shoulder warmly, a "Honorary Member of the Anti-Dark Magic Alliance" badge digging painfully into Sagrais's shoulder. "Speaking of which, I'm currently working on a new book..."

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching before leaning close to Sagres's ear mysteriously: "Have you seen the newspaper? Not 'Le Journal de Prophet,' but 'Le Journal de Pioneers,' the French newspaper, about the Bronze Feather!"

Sagres couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, waiting for the other party to continue.

Lockhart's voice was tinged with undisguised smugness, "Those bunch of incompetent Aurors in France were able to solve the case entirely thanks to my covert maneuvering. Although..."

He shrugged with feigned regret, "Although we went a bit too far in the end, who can guarantee that we won't make any mistakes when facing such a ruthless dark wizard?"

Sagrass pushed the other away calmly, a rare smile on his face: "Really? Are you really sure that all the members of that Bronze Feather group have been captured?"

Lockhart's smile froze. Sagrais continued, "After all, they are quite dangerous dark wizards. I mean, what if someone escapes? Aren't you afraid of their retaliation?"

“Uh, haha…” Lockhart chuckled dryly, but quickly resumed his greasy smile. “Don’t worry, Sagrais, after all, I don’t use a smile to drive away the ghost of Wanren. You know, although I’ve won the Most Charming Smile Award from Wizarding Weekly five times in a row, I never say it out loud.”

Sagres smiled slightly; the current Lockhart resembled the senior he remembered. As for those books, well, the events might be true, but they probably had little to do with Lockhart.

“Oh, right, my book signing is about to start!” He eagerly tugged at Sagrais’s sleeve, his eyes sparkling. “Sagrais, come on over! Seriously, although the Daily Prophet’s reports on you are never anything good…”

He lowered his voice, a hint of smugness in it, "But when it comes to dealing with those annoying reporters, I'm an expert. I can teach you a few tricks; after all, geniuses should help each other, shouldn't they?"