HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

The words on the diary slowly emerged: [For example... resolving a locked-room crisis...]

Lockhart was startled, his face turning pale: "The secret chamber? There are basilisks in there, it's too dangerous, and more importantly, I have no idea where it is."

The words flickered seductively: "I happen to know some clues about the locked room, and I also know how to subdue the basilisk. I will help you, help you solve the locked room crisis. Just imagine, when you walk out carrying the basilisk's head..."

Lockhart's breathing quickened, and his eyes behind his glasses began to gleam. He could almost see the headline of the Daily Prophet: Gilderoy Lockhart Saves Hogwarts Single-Handedly!

He swallowed hard, and his trembling pen fell onto the diary again: [What exactly should I do? I'm completely helpless against that serpent monster; after all, making eye contact with it can be fatal.]

The handwriting suddenly became blurry, as if struggling to breathe: [Don't worry... I have a way to make the basilisk as docile as a kitten, but I need your help. You know, I'm just a poor diary after all; without your help, I can't do anything...]

Lockhart took a deep breath, as if making a firm decision: "Can...we really solve the locked room problem?"

Of course! With a great practitioner like you, coupled with my meager knowledge, solving a small locked room puzzle is a piece of cake... and then you will announce the truth to the world and save the school. This will be a new heroic epic entirely yours! And I, I only ask to be mentioned as an insignificant footnote in your legend...

Lockhart licked his dry lips: "Tell me, how exactly do I do it?"

The ink on the page suddenly became weak, and the words broke apart to form new sentences:

Maintaining this communication... requires energy... As a mere magical object, I need magic to function, and I also need a little blood to find the answer for you...

Lockhart's trembling fingertips traced the paper, cutting a small gash in the edge. The moment the blood seeped into the paper, the ink suddenly came alive again.

Boom!

Lockhart suddenly collapsed onto the writing desk, the quill pen slipping from his fingers. After a moment, he raised his head, picked up the quill pen again, and scribbled crookedly in his diary:

I...feel...so tired...

[This is just creative fatigue, dear Lockhart. Would you like to know the true entrance to the secret room?]

[Fine, that idiot Sagrais spends all his time searching for the entrance, while I know the answer without lifting a finger...]

Of course, because you are far superior to him, a thousand times better. I will tell you the answer, but before that, you have to give me something...

【what would you like?】

Just a little blood, just a tiny bit...

Have I already given it to you?

You didn't give it to me, you're mistaken. Give me just a little bit, and then I can help you become a hero, a true hero...

Okay, I'll give it to you...

When Lockhart cut his finger again, he didn't notice that the blood seeped in even faster than before.

A satisfied sigh came from deep within the pages, and he naturally attributed his fatigue to "the hard work of conceiving new book chapters."

Lockhart collapsed onto his diary again, falling into a deep sleep. In the quiet night, the diary began to plant new thoughts in his mind:

Why does that scarred boy always seem to appear at crime scenes? Is he the real killer who opened the locked room?

The professors' so-called protective measures are nothing but a monstrous trick, utterly foolish...

Only we know the truth, only we possess the real solution...

These thoughts, like poisonous vines, quietly took root in Lockhart's mind.

When he faced Sagrais the next day, his eyes held a strange hostility and... eerie confidence.

Chapter 88 The Long-Awaited Mischievous Ghost

As morning light streamed through the stained-glass windows onto the stone corridor, Sagres, who had just emerged from the library, bumped into Lockhart, whose face was deathly pale.

The man had dark circles under his eyes, and his carefully styled curls had lost their luster, making him look like an escaped convict who had just broken out of Azkaban.

As the two passed each other, Lockhart cast a cold glance at him.

Sagles scoffed inwardly—this is it? He still has a whole warehouse of "teaching plans" he hasn't even used yet.

If the other party is truly ungrateful and tries to do something, then he will shatter the hypocritical mask of this "legendary wizard" so badly that it can't be pieced back together.

As he entered the classroom with his textbook, the sight before him made him raise an eyebrow. The aftermath of the Duel Club was clearly still unfolding, with nearly twice as many students attending as usual.

Sagres walked onto the podium without a word, tapped his wand lightly, and several beams of light of different colors suddenly shot out from the tip of his wand, which then reflected back at him from various tricky angles after hitting the wall.

Without moving his feet, his wrist moved slightly at a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye, and several almost transparent "obstacles" instantly formed and disappeared precisely in different positions in front of him.

The beams of light struck the barrier, either bouncing off or being annihilated, producing a crisp cracking sound.

The students' eyes widened immediately, and the new students also realized that the trip had definitely been worthwhile.

The beam of light stopped, and Sagres spoke, his voice calm yet incredibly penetrating: "You see? 'Obstacles upon Obstacles' is not a cumbersome shield. Rather, it is an extension of your will. By using it flexibly, you can bring 'obstacles' to life and make them your weapons."

With that, he waved his hand lightly, and the message "obstacles everywhere" immediately appeared in the air.

“The Barrier Charm is not a uniform ‘wall’; its magical structure is malleable—the center can be thicker to defend against strong attacks, and the edges can be more ‘viscous’ to deflect or slow down spells.”

He then described how a semi-transparent, jelly-like barrier changed shape in the air, eventually stretching into a net that almost covered the entire classroom. He gestured for the students to touch it and feel the strength of the magical barrier.

“Where your intention is, there the barrier will be. Think of ‘blocking in front,’ and it will clumsily stand in front. Think of ‘protecting your right shoulder,’ and it will instantly solidify in front of your right shoulder. Think of ‘deflecting that red light,’ and it will do it.”

He used his mind to guide the large net to transform into tiny barriers, quickly switching between different sides of each student's body.

“By shrinking its structure and increasing its speed, it can be turned into a weapon.”

The tiny barrier suddenly hardened and struck the young wizards on the forehead at incredible speed. The students felt as if they had been hit on the head by a transparent block of glue, leaving them feeling dizzy and disoriented.

"By extending its structure and slowing it down, it can help you slow down the enemy's movements."

As it spoke, the barrier softened and loosened, enveloping the students' palms. The young wizards immediately found it extremely difficult to clench their fists or open their palms.

Then he waved his wand again, and a thick beam of magical light immediately rushed toward the students.

While the other party was still in a daze, all the magic barriers suddenly coalesced into a whole, then bent into a specific shape, reflecting the cursed light back intact.

Then he quickly created a tiny, slanted barrier beside him, completely blocking the rebounding spell. The powerful force even allowed him to gracefully slide to the side.

"See that? That's called making use of waste. Your opponent's magic saves you the effort of moving."

As he spoke, he slowly put away his wand, and all the "obstacles" disappeared.

"As you can see, it can also help you deflect attacks, but this requires a certain level of skill, otherwise it will become a failure in your potions class—the direction is random and the effect is unknown."

The students immediately covered their mouths and laughed upon hearing this.

Amid laughter, Sagres continued to break down every detail of the spell, from the angle of the wrist to the instantaneous burst of magic.

After two hours of continuous output, his throat was so dry it felt like it had been licked by a salamander, and even the students' eyes were bloodshot.

However, you can't learn magic spells just by listening; these theories ultimately need to be honed through countless real-world experiences.

"Alright everyone..." Sagrais clapped his hands at the end, "The next lesson will be a practical one, so during this time you need to do one thing—successfully cast the Obstacle Charm. That's the bare minimum. I've told you everything I need to teach you; the rest is just a lot of repetitive practice..."

He then gestured for the students to leave get out of class and left the classroom without looking back.

As he passed through the auditorium, Sagrais habitually checked the magic mirror—it remained perfectly calm.

However, just around the corner leading to the library, a piercing scream mixed with a strange cheer suddenly erupted!

"Ha! Run away!"

Sagres's eyes narrowed, his wand instantly sliding into his palm, his body tensing like a cheetah. He held his breath, his sharp gaze sweeping across the shadows of the pillars—no basilisk scales, only…

Those signature baggy pants and that awful, raspy voice!

He leaned out silently and looked over. There he saw Pippi, whom he hadn't seen for many days, hanging upside down on a huge crystal chandelier, waving his two dirty hands triumphantly.

He was hurling mud balls, reeking of sewage, with pinpoint accuracy at the students scrambling below. The students' screams continued, interspersed with the cheers and laughter of the mischievous boy.

"very!"

"Ha! Another ten points!"

"You hid terribly! You're punished to hide again!"

Peeves chuckled and, watching a Gryffindor with his face covered in mud, excitedly spun around on the chandelier.

"Yes, yes, that's it! Haha!"

A cold smile curled at the corner of Sagres's lips.

"Chaotic Storm!"

The wand silently sliced ​​through the air, and a tiny gray whirlwind appeared out of nowhere, like a precise bear trap, instantly trapping the mischievous boy on the chandelier!

The grotesque laughter of the Pikachu came to an abrupt halt, replaced by terrified screams.

It turned into a blurry gray shadow in the rapidly spinning storm, like a top that had gone mad, with even its hat almost being flung off.

"Waaaah—put me down!"

The students, who had been screaming and running away, immediately stopped in their tracks, staring in disbelief at this unprecedented scene—the lawless Pippi was acting like a goblin locked in a cage.

After a brief silence, deafening cheers and applause erupted in the corridor, and several students who had been hit by mud stomped their feet excitedly.

This scene is quite rare; to be precise, it's the first time I've ever seen it.

After all, Peeves fears no one except Barrow the Bloodman, and even Sagrais was helpless against him during his first two years at Hogwarts.

However, he was no longer the naive student he once was. Years of study had allowed him to grasp the key: Peeves was the embodiment of chaos in Hogwarts Castle, and to deal with him, one needed to create chaos magic of equal magnitude to temporarily suppress the castle's ailment.

Although the method is quite complex and cannot completely eradicate the problem, it can still make the other party suffer a bit.

Sagres calmly pulled a thick magic crystal bottle from the inner pocket of his robe, pointing the bottle at the still wildly spinning storm.

With a light tap of the wand, the storm, along with the disoriented Peeves inside, was sucked in like a wisp of smoke with a "whoosh."

"Thump!" Pikachu's face slammed heavily against the smooth bottle wall, making a dull thud.

“It seems you need to calm down.” Sagres flicked the crystal bottle with his finger.

"Ah—have mercy! Professor! Great Professor! I'll even call you Principal! Just let me out!"

Sagres shook the bottle, and the scream inside instantly rose eight octaves, echoing through the corridor with a sob.

This is a "hostage," and he has to "escort" the other party to Myrtle's bathroom to see if the crying ghost can divulge any valuable clues about the secret room.

Chapter 89 The Basilisk Emerges