HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Sagres frowned slightly and impatiently pulled his sleeve back. He lightly flicked his long fingers at his side, and an invisible confusion spell silently enveloped the incessantly talking writer.

“You’ve mistaken me for someone else.” Sagres’s voice was calm and expressionless as he turned and walked away—dealing with him was a waste of time!

Lockhart blinked in confusion, his gaze suddenly becoming blank. By the time he came to his senses, the black-robed wizard had already disappeared at the street corner.

Chapter 60 A Bad Start

The Hogwarts Express whistle pierced the September sky, and the ancient castle was once again filled with the joyful laughter of young wizards.

Sagres stood in the center of the auditorium, watching as the elves, under Professor Flitwick's command, removed the colorful light strips, brain flowers, and eyeballs that had been floating in mid-air and changing colors with the music.

"Honey, these colors and combinations are just so... avant-garde."

Professor Flitwick, standing on his lecturing chair, remarked tactfully, "Perhaps a more traditional attire would be more appropriate?"

Sagles raised an eyebrow but did not argue.

He casually tossed a stack of design drawings into the fireplace and watched them turn to ashes in the flames.

It doesn't matter, he was just trying to kill time anyway.

On a bench in the corner of the auditorium, a copy of the Daily Prophet from a few days prior caught his attention.

Sagles flicked his finger, and the newspaper flew into his hand. He glanced at it casually, and just as he was about to throw it away, a report made him stop.

"Shocking! Members of two pure-blood families brawl in the street"—The accompanying picture shows Lucius Malfoy's platinum blonde hair being grabbed by Arthur Weasley, while the latter has three buttons ripped off his shirt. (Mr. Weasley is a bit bald, so he can't grab it!)

The most interesting part is that the two of them were actually fighting each other in a Muggle-like manner: grabbing each other's collars, pulling each other's hair, slapping each other, and throwing punches.

Sagles's lips unconsciously curled into a smile; he couldn't remember the last time there was such a purely physical confrontation...

As night fell, the auditorium gradually filled with students.

Sagres sat on the professor's chair, idly toying with the silver goblet on the table, then discreetly disintegrating it into a tiny mithril particle and slipping it into his pocket.

To his left was the seat of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and at that moment, the occupant of that seat was making an unmissable entrance.

Gilderoy Lockhart entered the auditorium like a peacock spreading its tail feathers, his long, pale golden hair shimmering in the candlelight, and his sky-blue robe, embroidered with patterns, adorned with at least twenty medals.

Sagres remembers there weren't nearly this many just a few days ago!

As they walked, they blew kisses to the students, stopping every now and then to strike a pose and let others take pictures and watch.

Finally, Professor McGonagall stepped in and urged him to sit down, and the other person reluctantly took his seat.

“Ah! Sagrais!” Lockhart suddenly turned to him, flashing his signature, radiant smile. “I was just about to talk to you about that—”

Sagres expressionlessly plugged his ears, and the world instantly became quiet.

He gazed at the magical starry sky on the ceiling, pondering whether he should find an excuse to leave early.

The Sorting Ceremony officially began in the flickering candlelight.

Sagles's gaze swept casually over the group of young freshmen. Suddenly, his eyes stopped on a small, thin figure—Astria Greengrass, his nominal cousin.

The other person was standing awkwardly at the end of the line, her large wizard robe making her look much thinner and smaller than the others.

Sagres saw that her face was very pale, almost transparent in the candlelight, with only her gray-blue eyes sparkling with joy.

"Astria Greengrass!"

Professor McGonagall's voice made the girl tremble slightly. Then, lifting the hem of her overly long robe, she carefully walked toward the four-legged stool.

As the Sorting Hat landed on her light blonde hair, Sagles noticed that her fingers were unconsciously twisting the hem of her dress.

Thirty seconds passed, and the Sorting Hat remained silent—whispers began to rise in the Great Hall, which was highly unusual for a pure-blood Greengrass.

Sagres leaned forward slightly, twirling his wand between his fingers. He was curious about what his sickly cousin was discussing with the Sorting Hat.

"Ravenclaw!"

The announcement from the hat was like a pebble thrown into still water. A burst of enthusiastic applause erupted at the Ravenclaw table, while Slytherin erupted in chaos.

“Traitor!” Daphne Greengrass’s shrill voice pierced the noise. She stood up abruptly and pointed at her sister. “You have tarnished the family’s reputation! What did Father tell you before we came?”

Astoria's back stiffened for a moment, but she quickly straightened her back and strode confidently toward the Ravenclaw table.

A buzz of discussion erupted at the Slytherin table, and everyone's eyes turned to the thin girl, who walked toward the Ravenclaw table as if nothing was amiss, though her fingers, hidden in her sleeve, were trembling uncontrollably.

This scene was all too familiar, as if it were a replay of what happened years ago.

Sagres glanced at Dumbledore, who clearly had no intention of stopping him, so he suddenly stood up and waved his wand.

"A solemn ceremony has begun!"

An invisible wave of sound swept through the entire auditorium, and all the noise ceased abruptly. Daphne opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Disrupting order, Slytherin loses twenty points.” Sagrais’s voice wasn’t loud, but every syllable was clearly heard by everyone.

Snape jumped to his feet, like a bat spreading its wings. "Sagres! It's time for the Sorting Ceremony..."

He glanced again at Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, who were equally surprised, and finally said slowly, "It's not your place to give orders here!"

Sagrass gave him a cold glance, then swept his icy gaze over Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and all the students.

"Slytherin, deduct 50 points!"

He tapped his wand, and a beam of magic struck the scoring hourglass.

"Any more questions?" he asked expressionlessly.

Snape gritted his teeth in anger, breathing heavily. At this moment, Dumbledore finally spoke up, "Severus, sit down. Slytherin has indeed disrupted discipline!"

Snape gave the old professor a cold look upon hearing this, then turned and left the professor's seat.

"The Sorting Ceremony continues!" Sagrais nodded slightly to Professor McGonagall, then sat down casually, as if the commotion had nothing to do with him.

The new students were terrified. Everyone knew that Slytherin House had already lost 50 points on the very first day of school—before they even had a single point.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron, who had chosen to drive (the magical car) to school instead of boarding the Hogwarts Express, had just arrived outside the Great Hall.

Ron Weasley placed his box at the bottom of the steps and then tiptoed to a window.

"Hey Harry, come look...they're sorting into their houses!"

Harry quickly leaned closer and saw a young wizard walking toward the four-legged stool, with Professor McGonagall about to place the Sorting Hat on his head.

“Strange…where did Snape go?” Harry said in surprise. “His seat is empty.”

“Who cares about that old bat?” Ron said without turning his head, his gaze sweeping eagerly over the new students. “I hope I didn’t miss Ginny’s sorting…”

"Maybe he's sick!" Harry guessed casually.

“He might be furious!” Ron grinned. “Because he failed to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor again. I heard he’s been wanting that position for years.”

“Maybe he got expelled!” Harry joked excitedly. “After all, so many people hate him.”

“Perhaps—” a cold, hollow voice came from behind them, “he’s outside the auditorium, listening to two idiots badmouthing him!”

Harry and Ron were stunned. Their minds were instantly cleared by these sudden words, and they were reluctant to turn around and face reality.

"Perhaps your Potions professor should start thinking about how many points to deduct from Gryffindor's grade..."

"Turn around!" Snape snapped, and the two young wizards finally obediently turned around.

He looked coldly at the two young wizards, a grim smile spreading across his face. "Perhaps you'll have to explain your spectacular flying car adventure!"

……

……

Chapter 61 New Semester

The Sorting Ceremony continued in an eerie silence.

Sagres leaned back in his high-backed chair, his grey eyes sweeping indifferently over each new student.

The only sounds in the Great Hall were the Sorting Hat's announcement and the students' applause—the students at the Slytherin table were tense, even their breathing was careful.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Lockhart suddenly leaned over, his golden curly hair swaying wildly with the exaggerated movements.

He lowered his voice, but couldn't hide the excitement in it: "Sagres, you're such a show-off! That move you just made was... really..."

He racked his brains for an adjective, the medals on his chest jingling.

Sagres picked up his crystal goblet, took a small sip of mead, and didn't even bother to glance at him.

“But if you ask me,” Lockhart leaned closer, the strong scent of his perfume making me a little dizzy, “your lines could have been more powerful. If it were me—”

He suddenly sat up straight, striking a dramatic pose. "I'll say this: 'In Merlin's name, I'll show you what true discipline is!' And then I'll wave my wand like this..."

Sagres ignored them completely, put down his glass without a word, and got up to leave without even glancing at his chattering colleague.

“Wait, where are you going? I haven’t finished speaking—” Lockhart’s voice abruptly stopped.

Without turning his head, Sagres snapped his fingers, delivering a chokehold to the other man. He strode towards the side door, as if the blond professor gesticulating wildly behind him was nothing more than thin air.

……

……

Time flowed by quietly. In the blink of an eye, Hogwarts ushered in its first makeup exam season since its founding.

Yes, a make-up exam! We didn't have one before, but we do now.

Sagres stood in the classroom, his long, slender fingers gently tapping the podium.

Sunlight streamed obliquely through the high windows, illuminating the nervous graduates in the classroom—two of whom were already dressed in the uniforms of the Ministry of Magic.

"Advanced Charms Theory and Practice," his voice was calm and even, without the slightest fluctuation, "is a required exam specially set up by the Ministry of Magic because they believe the level of Hogwarts graduates is worrisome."

A few awkward, dry laughs echoed in the classroom.

Sagres ignored him, tapped the exam papers on the lectern with his finger, and the parchments flew into the sky, transforming into flying birds, giant beetles, dragonflies, and other creatures.

“I don’t care about being excellent, good, or bad.” He paced between the desks, his black robe brushing the floor. “To me, there are only two outcomes—”

He paused, then suddenly turned around, his gray eyes sweeping over each student:

"Either pass or get zero."