HP: The Dangerous Azkaban Professor

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Before they left, Sargeras and Nightingale took a brief look around the ruins.

The place was clearly ancient and steeped in history. As Nightingale's boots stepped across the lichen-covered stone tiles, the faint glow at the tip of her staff startled a cluster of bronze-winged beetles from their slumber.

Those thumb-sized magical creatures fluttered their wings, trailing pale green streaks behind them into the damp air like meteors streaking across the night sky.

"Judging by the architectural style, this must be a remnant from the Tudor period."

She brushed her fingers across the relief carving on the stone gate, where golden, fern-like vines had grown out of the sculpted eye sockets. "This was probably a magical plant garden originally. When Erios repurposed it, he barely touched the plant species that had survived here since the thirteenth century."

Sargeras used his wand, crafted from Everbloom wood, to lift a dark crimson plant hanging from the arched ceiling. He turned slightly to avoid the bristling tendrils reaching toward him, each one tipped with sharp, glistening thorns.

"Take what you need. Leave the rest here. I'll leave a permanent Portkey, so you can come back whenever you like."

Nightingale nodded. Her glass potion flask was already floating at her side, and the little yew-wood spoon fixed to the stopper was automatically gathering the rare samples into the bottle with precise care.

This ruin, a relic of the Tudor Period, had managed to preserve a surprising number of rare magical species. They even discovered two types of plants that had been listed as functionally extinct by the Ministry of Magic's Magical Flora Registry.

This discovery delighted Nightingale, and she was visibly overjoyed. As a young potion master, her invitation to join the Bronze Feather had never been due to her skill in combat magic. It was her remarkable talent in crafting over a dozen complex, high-difficulty potions that had earned her that place.

"I'll head straight back to Hogwarts," Sargeras said as he handed her two unfinished wands. "Aside from the Bronze Feather's commission, I don't expect I'll be leaving again anytime soon."

Nightingale nodded and took the wands. She hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke. "Sargeras…"

"Yes? What is it?"

"This coming July, I'll be going to Beauxbatons… to take up a professor post."

"Maxime's bringing you on? What will you be teaching?"

"Potions."

"That's right up your alley…" Sargeras nodded solemnly. "Though I do have one piece of advice."

"Oh? What advice?"

"Wear a veil. Otherwise, your students might not learn a single thing."

"I'll give it serious thought," Nightingale chuckled, her laughter light and warm. The glow-ferns high above in the ruins flickered faintly at that moment, almost like blinking eyes.

"Cast at least three frost spells a week. It'll greatly help suppress the Veela bloodline in your body…" Sargeras tapped the dragonhide pouch at her wide waist with the tip of his wand. "Also… remember to remind them of the unfinished steps when handing over the wands…"

Then he reached out and plucked a glowing nightrose. The moment its petals brushed against the wand, the bloom froze in place, stiffened instantly, and crystallized into a brooch imbued with a preservation charm.

"This is the Portkey…"

"You're giving a rose to a lady, just like that?" Nightingale teased, mischief flickering in her eyes as the corner of her lips curled into a playful smile. "You've grown far too gentle lately, Mr. Greengrass."

"Well… maybe I've fallen under your charm too."

"I'm starting to suspect I might've accidentally mixed a bit of Amortentia into that Felix Felicis I gave you…" she said, winking at him.

"That would've been a waste…" Sargeras replied with a dry chuckle. "Veritaserum would've done the job just fine."

Nightingale laughed even harder at that. Then, without hesitation, she tucked away her potion bottle and waved him a brisk goodbye. "Well then, until next time, Sargeras…"

The moment the words left her lips, her figure vanished in a shimmer of silver light.

Sargeras smiled to himself, then Apparated back to Hogsmeade.

He still remembered what Dumbledore once told him: apparating straight into someone's home was incredibly rude… about as polite as kicking open their front door without knocking.

And he supposed, in the old headmaster's eyes, Hogwarts was no different from a home. So while he didn't mind apparating out of the castle, if he ever tried apparating directly back inside, Dumbledore might genuinely get upset as well as angry…

Christmas was just around the corner. A thick blanket of snow now covered Hogsmeade, and the edges of the lake had already begun to freeze.

It was there that Sargeras unexpectedly crossed paths with two red-haired youths—the Weasley twins.

He happened to be passing along the street when the brothers came squeezing out of Honeydukes, nearly bumping right into him.

Both twins froze on the spot, visibly embarrassed as they realized they had just run headfirst into a professor. Clearly, this was not part of their plan.

"If I'm not mistaken," Sargeras said calmly, looking at them both, "today is not a Hogsmeade weekend, is it?"

"So then, gentlemen… who would like to explain to me what you're doing here?"

Fred stepped forward. "Professor, this is just a big misunderstanding…"

George nodded quickly. "Exactly! I mean, who in their right mind would risk breaking school rules just to sneak into Hogsmeade?"

Fred added, "And even if someone did, it definitely wouldn't be a Weasley."

George grinned. "And even if it were a Weasley, it most certainly wouldn't be the two of us!"

Fred finished with a perfectly straight face, "That's right. George and I probably probably just took a wrong turn somewhere and got a little lost, is all."

Sargeras raised his hand, cutting off their nonsense mid-flow with a single look. "What a coincidence. I happen to know the way back to Hogwarts."

At that, the two brothers instantly deflated, their shoulders slumping. With no way out, they had no choice but to fall in line and follow Sargeras as he led them back toward the castle.

"Chin up, and don't look so down…" Sargeras said over his shoulder to the two almost identical young wizards, his voice calm and dry. "If you come back with me now, I won't deduct any House points. Or… you're welcome to head back into Hogsmeade instead, and I'll happily take five points off each of you."

Fred spoke up at once. "Thank you, Professor. But I think we'd be much better off returning to Hogwarts."

George nodded in agreement. "Fred's right. Though… Professor, what were you doing in Hogsmeade?"

Sargeras turned and gave them both a look, the corners of his lips curling ever so slightly. "If I were either of you, this would be the moment I stopped asking questions."

The twins got the message. They immediately zipped their mouths shut and didn't pry any further.

Sargeras shook his head and continued walking through the snow, the two boys trudging silently behind him as the wind whispered gently around them.

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The weather was bitterly cold, but the owls had been busier than ever. It was mid-December, and most students had begun sending letters home, asking whether they would be staying at school or heading back for the holidays.

During Potions class, Malfoy and his usual gang were back to their old tricks, stirring up trouble as always.

"I find it a little tragic, really…" Malfoy drawled lazily, his voice laced with a deliberate edge of mockery as he shot a sideways glance at Harry. "People who have to stay at school for Christmas… are probably the ones who don't have a home to go back to."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled beside him, their snickers feeding the fire of Malfoy's taunts. But Harry paid them no mind. He was focused on weighing out his powdered lionfish bones, completely unfazed by their attempt to provoke him.

Ever since the last Quidditch match, Malfoy had been nursing a grudge. Watching Harry steal the spotlight on the pitch had filled him with a mix of resentment and jealousy. So now, he had fallen back on an old favorite… mocking Harry for having no real home.

But the news that students could choose to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays had made Harry happier than he had felt in weeks. He wouldn't have to go back and face Uncle Vernon's bullying, nor would he have to see Dudley's smug face. This Christmas was shaping up to be the happiest he had known in years, and for once, he could actually enjoy himself.

Just thinking about it filled him with warmth and anticipation, and suddenly, Malfoy's jabs didn't feel quite so hard to ignore.

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[Chapter End's]

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