Harry Potter: Archmage of Another World

Time passed swiftly. As the memory of Christmas faded, Easter arrived, eagerly awaited by all Hogwarts students. Unlike the festive cheer of Christmas, Easter carried a less pleasant tone—perhaps because the looming final exams brought a wave of tension. Each professor assigned substantial amounts of homework, and amidst a chorus of groans and complaints, the Easter holidays began.

In the afternoon, the Hogwarts library was bathed in golden sunlight, its rays streaming through the dark red wooden windowpanes. Soft spots of light danced silently across the aged parchment of the book Augustus held. Reclining comfortably in a cushioned mahogany chair, he turned a page, his silvery eyes reflecting faint golden hues in the warm light.

"You're so relaxed, enjoying rare library time during the holidays, while I'm practically drowning in a sea of assignments!" A faint fragrance accompanied Lillian's arrival as she leaned unceremoniously against the chair beside Augustus. Ever since their growing camaraderie after Christmas, their conversations had become more frequent and lighthearted.

"Actually, finishing the assignments quickly is a form of practice. The key points the professors emphasize in their lessons are woven into these tasks. If you approach them without relying on textbooks, you'll find the final exams much easier," Augustus replied, closing his book with a faint smile. For him, the assignments were hardly time-consuming.

"For someone who always gets top marks, it's easy to dismiss these assignments," Lillian muttered, rolling her eyes. "For the rest of us, who struggle to find answers even with books, your so-called 'practice' feels like a mountain crushing us."

Shaking his head with mild exasperation, Augustus relented, "All right. How much did you bring this time?" Smirking triumphantly, Lillian pulled out several small notebooks filled with dense, intricate magical formulas. Several sections were conspicuously blank—evidence of her struggles.

Taking the notebooks, Augustus flipped through them and began explaining. A gentle breeze drifted in through the open window, and the sunlight illuminated Augustus's golden hair, which fell neatly over his broad shoulders. His radiant skin seemed to glow with an almost ethereal light, and his high, straight nose and clear eyes exuded an enigmatic charm.

Lillian stared at him, momentarily entranced, as the golden light framed him in a dreamlike aura. She barely registered the words he was saying, lost in the surreal moment.

"Augustus! So here you are! We've been looking everywhere for you," a sudden voice broke her reverie. Lillian's dreamy expression vanished, replaced with mild annoyance as she turned to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing awkwardly nearby. Ron was clutching his injured arm behind his back, attempting to appear nonchalant.

After a few parting instructions from Augustus, Lillian reluctantly gathered her notes and left. As she walked away, she inexplicably glanced at Hermione several times, her expression unreadable.

"Mr. Augustus, Ron's hand is injured—it was bitten by a dragon," Hermione explained quickly, her tone tinged with urgency. "We can't take him to the hospital wing because Madam Pomfrey would notice something unusual. Could you help heal him?"

They weren't sure if Augustus could treat such an injury, but his reputation for being capable in all things had given them hope. With no one else to turn to, they had come straight to him.

"A dragon? Judging by the wound, it's probably a newborn," Augustus remarked with a quiet chuckle. These kids always seemed to find themselves in peculiar situations. After all, even in other magical realms, dragons were a rarity.

Healing a dragon bite was no simple task. Dragon saliva was highly corrosive and infused with unique magical resistance from dragon blood. Without exceptional magical skill, even basic treatment would be ineffective.

Drawing his silver wand, Augustus cast a high-level restoration spell on Ron's injured hand. Under the spell's powerful effects, the gaping wound began to heal rapidly. Within moments, the injury had vanished, leaving Ron's hand as good as new.

"That's incredible!" Ron exclaimed, flexing his hand in amazement. He had expected the wound—especially one caused by a dragon—to take weeks to heal, yet it was completely gone in seconds.

"The dragon that bit Ron hatched from an egg Hagrid won in a card game," Harry explained, his green eyes alight with admiration. "It's a Norwegian Ridgeback he named Norbert."

"A Norwegian Ridgeback? That's illegal. The 1709 International Confederation of Wizards banned dragon breeding," Augustus commented indifferently, as though wizarding laws were little more than trivial guidelines.

"We know it's illegal," Hermione admitted. "We've written to Ron's brother Charlie, who works at a dragon sanctuary. This Saturday at midnight, we're taking Norbert to the tallest tower in Hogwarts, where Charlie's friends will collect him and take him to safety."

"That's a solid plan. Best of luck with it," Augustus replied with a nod, offering no further comment.

After thanking him profusely, Harry, Hermione, and Ron hurried off as swiftly as they had arrived. The world of young adventurers was undeniably filled with excitement and boundless energy.

As the day faded into twilight, the deep red glow of the setting sun lingered stubbornly on the horizon, casting warm hues across the library. Picking up the book he had set aside earlier, Augustus resumed his solitary journey into the world of knowledge. For who could know, without pressing forward, whether the road ahead would lead to breathtaking beauty or desolate isolation, to grandeur or solitude?

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