HP: The Dangerous Azkaban Professor

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In fact, it seemed like the professors at Hogwarts never really left the castle during Christmas. After all, there were always students staying behind for the holidays, and someone had to keep an eye on them. Even during the break, the staff still had to carry out their duties, keeping everything in order.

These little witches and wizards, with all their boundless energy and nothing better to do, were more than capable of turning the whole castle upside down during the holidays. Without professors around to keep things in check, it might take no more than a single night for Hogwarts to descend into complete chaos.

That was precisely why, during this time of year, the school's corridors were never empty. Professors patrolled the halls, ghosts drifted silently through the stone passages, and Filch stalked about with his ever-watchful cat prowling at his heels.

However, since tomorrow was Christmas Day, the young witches and wizards were actually on their best behavior for once. After sending off his letters and gifts one by one, Sargeras decided to head to the Hogwarts library to pass the time.

The next morning, the entire school was brimmed with festive cheer. Everywhere he went, the holiday spirit filled the air. After grabbing breakfast in the Great Hall, Sargeras returned to his office, and as expected, a small pile of letters and gifts had already been neatly stacked by the window.

Casually, he picked up a letter sealed in deep blue parchment. The wax bore the totem of a Kestrel (Sparrow hawk) with outstretched wings, the edges of the envelope sprinkled with gold dust.

It was from Kestrel. Sargeras raised an eyebrow and broke the seal.

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Dear Raven,

First of all, I want to thank you for sending that… thing to us through the Nightingale, though I must say, I'm not even remotely satisfied with it.

I'll admit, that bizarre wand left me speechless. If there were an award for 'Most Horrifying Wand Design of the Year,' it would undoubtedly be in the top three.

But tell me, Raven, have you ever actually stopped to think? As a young lady, do you seriously expect me to walk around carrying that thing and not look utterly ridiculous? What exactly do you take me for… some dreadful old hag? Or is your sense of user experience worse than a troll in ballet slippers?

Naturally, I, Iresha Lumina, am not as careless as you. This return gift I've prepared for you was chosen with great care, and I guarantee you will be pleased with it.

Lastly, allow me to offer you some free professional advice, as a trained Diviner. Next time you send someone a present, spend a little less time studying the illustrations in 'Secrets of the Darkest Art' and a little more flipping through 'The Goblin Fashion Annual.'

Sincerely,

Kestrel

On the night when the winter stars stray most chaotically.

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A small gift box was tucked in with the letter. Sargeras opened it and found… a Muggle book — A Collection of English Jokes.

He let out a helpless sigh, the corners of his lips curling faintly. He had already expected that Kestrel wouldn't be too thrilled with the design of her wand, but judging from the strong sense of grievance practically dripping from her words, it seemed her dissatisfaction ran even deeper than he thought.

"Got a lot bolder since we last met," Sargeras muttered to himself as he flipped through a few pages of the joke book. Every single one was an old, outdated joke, the kind that did not even earn a chuckle. He tossed it aside without much interest.

Next came a letter from Thunderbird, accompanied by a book introducing various wand cores and materials used in North America. Sargeras skimmed through it briefly, but it turned out to be all information he already knew.

After that, two other members of the Bronze Feather sent letters as well, wishing him a Merry Christmas and casually asking if he was interested in taking on any commissions. He didn't even bother to consider it before declining them outright.

And then there were letters from his students. Even though he'd only been a professor at Ilvermorny for a year, he'd somehow accumulated quite a few students who were rather fond of him. Most of their letters were filled with updates on their lives and endless complaints about the new teacher.

Sargeras didn't really have much to say to that. He simply picked up the final envelope.

A familiar fragrance wafted from the parchment — a letter from the Nightingale.

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Dear Raven,

When the morning mist still clung to the deep valleys of the Pyrenees, your 'Emotional Spell Analysis Diagram' has already found its way to my desk. The breakdown of the casting nodes on the chart is remarkably clear — I believe I will be able to master this spell in no time.

To be honest, this will be an enormous help for my upcoming lessons. So please, allow me to sincerely say… thank you.

By the way, when Noctis delivered your letter, I noticed it was far quieter than usual. I wonder if that is simply my imagination.

Inside the enclosed amethyst vial, I have sealed the latest perfume potion I've crafted — Song of Deep Blue. After studying the traditions of Beauxbatons' potion classes, I prepared this Christmas gift especially for you. I hope you will like it.

P.S. If you look closely, you will notice there's a little Gnome Barrel Sprite trapped inside the bottle. It insisted it was the "muse" behind Song of Deep Blue and simply would not leave me alone. I couldn't get rid of it, so I had no choice but to send it along with the gift.

May the starlight guide your research,

Your devoted Nightingale

On Christmas Eve

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Sargeras unscrewed the lid of the vial and glanced inside. Sure enough, the tiny Barrel Sprite was huddled at the bottom. The moment their eyes met, the little creature panicked, diving down and refusing to resurface.

Sargeras let out a soft chuckle, closed the lid, and left the office.

The Christmas feast at Hogwarts was as extravagant as ever — roast turkey, sizzling sausages, buttery peas, golden potatoes — the long tables were overflowing with delicious food, and everyone looked cheerful and full of holiday spirit. Professor Flitwick told Dumbledore a joke, sending the old headmaster into peals of hearty laughter.

A thoroughly drunk Hagrid even planted a kiss on Professor McGonagall's cheek. Surprisingly, she didn't get angry. Instead, Hagrid's tipsy antics made her giggle uncontrollably, her pointed wizard's hat slipping sideways as she laughed.

Once Sargeras had finished eating, he quietly left the Great Hall.

On his way to the Hogwarts library, he passed by the Weasley twins and Harry's group — a rowdy bunch of young wizards and witches, caught up in an intense snowball fight.

Snowballs soared through the air, whistling past his ears. One of them nearly hit him as he walked down the corridor.

"Sorry, Professor!" one of the twins — whether it was George or Fred, he couldn't tell — called out hastily before darting back into the fray.

Sargeras paused by the side, quietly watching them mess around. Without even realizing it, a faint smile crept onto his face as he watched the soaking-wet kids laughing and trudging off together towards the common room.

Only then did he continue walking, heading back to his office.

Just as he turned the corner, Filch suddenly burst out from the entrance of the corridor, his ever-present cat trailing behind him. He grabbed the twins by the collars of their sweaters and snatched Harry by the arm, roughly trying to drag them all away.

"Is there a problem?" Sargeras asked coolly, noticing Filch's flustered, agitated state.

"Professor, just look at the floor… it's covered in water," Filch grumbled, giving the struggling young wizards a sharp shake. "They did it. I'm taking them straight to…"

"But that doesn't violate any school rules," Sargeras interrupted him flatly, cutting him off before he could finish. Truth be told, he had never liked this self-important old Squib. Back when he was a student, Filch had made trouble for him more than once.

Sargeras walked slowly toward them. With a casual flick of his wand, he tapped each of the drenched students, and their wet clothes instantly dried as if nothing had happened. Without waiting for thanks, he simply waved a hand, gesturing for them to leave.

The Weasley twins and Harry exchanged grateful smiles, slipping out of Filch's grasp and quickly disappearing down the corridor. Sargeras didn't spare Filch another glance. He turned and left, ignoring the sour look on the old caretaker's face.

He figured he was already being remarkably patient. After all, the only ones in the entire castle who could get along amicably with Filch were probably Snape and that cat of his — Mrs. Norris.

Back when he was a student, Filch would often team up with Snape to catch students sneaking around the castle after hours. If you were unlucky enough to run into Peeves the poltergeist during one of those late-night escapades… well, you could practically count the house points being deducted and the detention notice being written on the spot.

Sargeras returned to his office, brushing the whole matter with Filch out of his mind. After giving it some thought, he began planning the lessons for after Christmas. Once that was done, he picked up a quill and parchment and started writing a letter.

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Dear Snowy Owl,

I have a request regarding troll specimens:

For next month's Charms Theory and Practice class, I intend to demonstrate to the students the differences between three troll subspecies — Mountain Trolls, River Trolls, and Forest Trolls — as well as the appropriate methods for dealing with each.

I would be most grateful if you could assist in providing the following individuals:

— An Alpine Rock Troll (please ensure the head and horns remain intact for demonstration of its attack methods).

— A Rhine River Swamp Troll (preferably with aquatic barnacles attached, for studying its water-based mutations).

— A Black Forest Moss Troll (please make sure the bioluminescent fungal moss on its back is undamaged).

Enclosed with this letter are three Trace-Free Expansion Crystal Vials, each containing a stasis-enchanted opal, greatly reduced in size by a powerful Shrinking Charm:

When the troll approaches within ten yards, simply utter "Subdue" and the embedded spellwork will compress the creature to the size of a doll.

While confined, the troll will fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, with all vital functions completely suspended.

1. The specimens are strictly for academic demonstration. Once the lesson concludes, they will be returned to you using the same method.

2. As a token of gratitude, I will present you with a Phoenix Feather quill I came across in Knockturn Alley. The inscription on the handle reads: "For the craftiest cargo handler."

I wonder… could it be the one you lost last year?

Your friend,

Raven

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Sargeras placed the parchment and the three crystal vials into an envelope, pressed a raven-shaped seal into the wax, then called for Noctis. He fed the messenger raven a generous handful of mithril before handing over the sealed letter.

As he watched the raven take flight and disappear into the sky, Sargeras couldn't help but wonder to himself… when these little witches and wizards returned to Hogwarts after Christmas and saw the surprise he had prepared for them, what kind of expressions would they have?

It would also be the perfect opportunity to test how well they had actually grasped the lessons so far.

The faint smile faded from his face. Sargeras stood up and made his way toward the library.

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