HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Every day, large numbers of students gather around the edge of the Quidditch pitch, pointing and discussing, their eyes filled with eager anticipation.

"Merlin's beard! It's as big as a Quidditch pitch! How can such a huge rock float?" a Hufflepuff student exclaimed, rubbing his eyes.

"Nonsense, of course it's magic! What else did you think?" Ravenclaw beside him said matter-of-factly.

“Compared to me, what you’re saying is real nonsense!” Hufflepuff said irritably.

“I feel…Hogwarts has become a little different,” a Gryffindor girl said, pointing to the vibrant green vines and delicate drawbridge on the castle’s exterior walls. “Look at those! How interesting! It feels like living in a castle in the forest…”

Finally, on a sunny afternoon, as the last intricate magic rune circuit quietly disappeared at the edge of the arena—

hum!

The entire magnificent dueling arena suddenly erupted with a soft yet powerful magical glow.

The light rippled outwards like water, brushing over every face looking up below, before slowly settling into silence.

This marks its final completion.

Sagres walked calmly to the edge of the ring, looking down at the students below who were waiting expectantly.

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly throughout the entire dueling arena:

"The dueling arena has been completed, and all your future dueling lessons will be conducted here."

He was met with a deafening roar of cheers!

……

Sagres decided to hold several grand exhibition matches to celebrate the completion of the arena before the next dueling class.

Of course, this is by no means the kind of attention-seeking, farcical performance Lockhart puts on.

He plans to unite some powerful professors and like-minded friends to spread this wave of duels throughout the entire magical world.

Thus, with his encouragement, news about the Covenant Tournament spread like wildfire during afternoon tea at the Daily Prophet's editorial office and during casual conversations among Ministry of Magic officials, as if it had been copied.

Immediately, official media outlets across Europe began publishing extensive reports on the issue.

Pioneers in the Wizarding World: Educational Innovation at Hogwarts, a Prestigious European School

……

The Daily Prophet ran the headline on its front page in gold lettering: "Hogwarts' Magical Revolution: Ancient School Creates 'Impossible Architecture'"

The subtitle reads: "The most complex magical construct of our time may redefine the art of dueling."

The Wizarding Weekly, however, took a different approach:

Education or Performance? The Hogwarts arena sparks a fierce debate among pure-blood families.

The text details the starkly different attitudes of the pure-blood families towards this matter at the Ministry of Magic tea party.

Even more intriguing is the special report in the *International Magic Observer*: "European Magic Education Landscape Shaken: Headmaster Durmstrang Holds Emergency Meeting Overnight"

The accompanying image is a magical photograph of Karkaroff standing grimly on the deck of an ice ship.

The Wizarding Union Gazette states:

Dumbledore's Secret Weapon? Unveiling the "Dangerous Network of Relationships" of a Young Hogwarts Professor

The article is accompanied by a silhouette illustration of Sagras teaching in Iphamoni.

Even the usually serious journal *Creative Magic* published a special feature on it:

"The Perfect Fusion of Ancient Runes and Modern Magic: An Analysis of Contract Arena Construction Techniques"

Professor Flitwick was invited to write the technical commentary section.

The newly built "Contract Arena" at Hogwarts, with its astonishing scale and mysterious aura, instantly became the hottest topic in the British Isles, even overshadowing the hype surrounding the Quidditch World Cup.

The news spread like wildfire across the Channel. Inside Hogwarts Castle, the atmosphere was electric.

Duels—this ancient and fascinating activity—have swept across every corner with unprecedented fervor.

In the corridors, in the common rooms, and even at the dining tables, you can see little wizards waving their wands and gesturing wildly as they discuss tactics.

It has firmly established itself as the fourth most popular new trend in campus life, alongside dating, Quidditch, and pranks.

The list of participants for the exhibition match has not yet been officially announced, but speculation about the identities of the participants has already sparked countless discussions.

Will it be Headmaster Dumbledore himself? Or the powerful Professor Greengrass? Or perhaps an outside dueling master invited from outside?

The young wizards were buzzing with discussion, and even in Hogsmeade Village, wizards were everywhere talking about it.

Rosmerta, the proprietress of Three Broomsticks, has noticed that lately, more customers are discussing duels than Quidditch World Cup matches.

In fact, Sagres had no intention of hiring anyone from outside. Hogwarts had plenty of ready-made candidates: Snape was quite capable, Professor McGonagall's transfiguration was outstanding, Professor Flitwick was a former dueling champion, and Dumbledore himself was known as the greatest wizard of the century.

He has already discussed with some professors how to demonstrate the application of various spells to the young wizards at the exhibition match.

However, on the eve of the exhibition match, an unexpected accident put everyone on edge.

On a dark and windy night, the castle's alarm gargoyles emitted a sharp and piercing screech, instantly shattering the tranquility of the night.

The professors rushed out of their respective lounges or offices, their faces etched with solemnity.

Two unusual magical fluctuations emanated from the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

It wasn't the chilling aura of Dementors, nor the hoofbeats of centaurs, but rather two powerful and unfamiliar presences, like moving mountains, rapidly approaching the protective magical boundaries of Hogwarts.

Professor Flitwick quickly checked the feedback from the protective array, his voice tinged with disbelief: "...Not known registered visitors, they're approaching the school!"

Sagres stood atop the Astronomical Tower, gazing into the distance, but an unexpected smile curved his lips.

"They came so quickly..." he murmured softly, his voice blending into the night breeze.

Just as everyone was on high alert, ready to draw their wands to greet the two uninvited guests, Dumbledore finally arrived at the open space in front of Hogwarts.

At the same time, the night sky above the Forbidden Forest was also torn apart by two completely different beams of light.

The light on the left was a magnificent carriage, like a crystal palace, pulled by twelve huge, magnificent silver flying horses.

The blue emblem of Beauxbatons School of Magic is clearly visible on the side of the carriage.

It was emitting a soft glow, lightly penetrating Hogwarts' ancient protective shield. Like a reflection cast into water, it caused not a ripple.

On the right is a huge, menacing ship that looks as if it were carved from millennia-old ice.

The prow was carved with a ferocious sea monster, and the sails bore the double-headed eagle emblem of Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It then broke through the clouds, carrying with it biting winds and ice shards, and passed through the protective magic without hindrance, emitting a muffled roar.

“Beauxbatons! Durmstrang!” The professors looked surprised and doubtful, while some young wizards cried out in disbelief.

A brief silence fell over Hogwarts, followed by a deafening roar of exclamations and discussions.

Why would these two renowned European magic schools appear uninvited in the dead of night in such a shocking way?

The crystal carriage and the giant ice ship slowly descended onto the open ground in front of the castle, facing the floating "Contract Arena" from afar.

Mrs. Maxim, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, was tall and elegant. She stepped down from the carriage amidst the radiance of the Pegasus, a reserved yet curious smile on her face.

Durmstrang's principal, Igor Karkarov, wearing a heavy fur coat, stepped off the ice ship with a somber expression, each step seemingly carrying the chill of the Arctic.

Dumbledore greeted him with a smile, and the atmosphere on the field became somewhat subtle for a moment.

Chapter 127 The Former Principal

"Albus, I apologize for disturbing you so late at night."

Mrs. Maxim's voice was gentle and pleasant, but her gaze was involuntarily drawn to the magnificent arena floating in the distance. "Igor and I have heard that Hogwarts has built a new dueling arena of astonishing size, and the entire European wizarding world is talking about it. We can't contain our curiosity and want to see this 'covenant arena' that is frequently mentioned in the newspapers."

"You're most welcome!" Dumbledore said with a smile. "Actually, I was just thinking a few days ago about whether I should write to you both and extend an invitation..."

Karkaroff gave a short, cold snort, his voice hoarse: "Welcome? Humph! Dumbledore, is Hogwarts trying to reshape the rules of magical duels by creating such a behemoth, or is it trying to send some signal to the whole of Europe? Durmstrang is uninterested in other things, but he has always maintained... necessary attention" to everything involving duels.

“Igor, Durmstrang’s dueling tradition is long and rich, while Hogwarts has only just taken the first step in exploring it…” the old headmaster said gently. “By the way, you know the main builder of this arena; he is a graduate of your school.”

Everyone's gaze turned to Sargeras, who was walking towards them, following Dumbledore's words.

Karkaroff's sinister gaze shifted from the ring, finally settling on Sagres, tinged with undisguised scrutiny and a hint of barely perceptible apprehension.

“Is that so?” he said calmly. “Mr. Greengrass graduated from Durmstrang with perfect grades in all his subjects, and at the time, he didn’t hesitate to refuse my offer to stay and chose to go to Ifamoni to become a professor…”

“Oh, Principal Kakarov, you may have forgotten... that you were initially unwilling to accept me as a student.”

Sagles smiled and calmly continued, "Besides, in your teaching you have always favored students with powerful backgrounds. And someone like me, a nobody..."

He gently shook his head. "...You've always been dismissive of it."

These words elicited varying reactions from the surrounding professors: some looked disdainful, some couldn't help but sneer, and some pretended not to hear.

Karkarov's already gloomy face became even more unpleasant, but since his expression was always somber, it didn't show much change at this moment.

“Professor Greengrass has misunderstood…” Karkaroff retorted stiffly, “I treat all students equally.”

“I see.” Sagres didn’t even lift his eyelids. “It seems I did misunderstand you. I thought the headmaster was a selfish, cowardly utilitarian.”

Karkarov's face turned ashen. He was about to speak when Maxim interrupted him: "The night air is too chilly, Igor. The students and professors are still waiting in the car. Let's settle them in first, then we can catch up!"

“Ah, Orim is right, please invite them in.” Dumbledore immediately replied in a gentle tone, “A banquet has been prepared in the Great Hall, and the entire Hogwarts community is eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

In fact, the students at Hogwarts had just received the notification.

At this moment, students from various colleges hurriedly took their seats at the long table, whispering among themselves with curiosity.

"What's going on? Didn't we just have dinner?"

"Whatever, I'm actually a little hungry..."

The students whispered in confusion, while the prefects, though equally ignorant, dutifully maintained order.

The young wizards had barely sat down when Dumbledore led the two headmasters into the brightly lit Great Hall.

“Merlin’s stinky socks! She’s taller than Hagrid!” Ron exclaimed in astonishment, pointing at Mrs. Maxim. “Could she also be…?”

“Many people have this question,” Hermione said in a low voice, “but I’ve heard that Mrs. Maxime has never publicly admitted it; she’s always said that she’s just a bit large-boned…”

"Really? But this is a bit too big..."

"Who's that tall, skinny man?" Harry asked without turning his head, his eyes fixed on Karkaroff. "He looked at me several times just now..."

“Igor Karkaroff, the principal of Durmstrang.” Ron leaned closer to them, his voice barely audible. “I heard he used to be a Death Eater. After the Mystic fell, he escaped trial by betraying his accomplices, and now he’s actually the principal.”