HP: The Dangerous Azkaban Professor

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Time slipped by quickly, and before anyone quite realized it, exam week had quietly arrived. Even Sargeras, who rarely showed much urgency about such matters, had finally found himself caught up in the busyness of it all.

Although coming up with questions for the approaching final exams wasn't exactly within the scope of his interests, this time, he had surprisingly put in some effort to ensure the exam papers would thoroughly cover everything taught over the past year.

For Sargeras, this wasn't particularly difficult. After all, his classes were always filled with a wide variety of spells and enchantments, and memorizing that knowledge ought to have been second nature for the students. Of course, the real challenge lay not in remembering the spells, but in using them skillfully and flexibly — and that was precisely what the little witches and wizards were sorely lacking.

As the weather grew hotter by the day, the young wizards of Hogwarts became increasingly irritable. That irritation reached its peak when the professors handed out the special, Anti-cheating quill pens.

Ever since returning from the Forbidden Forest, Harry had been plagued by relentless nightmares. He had learned the truth, yet was powerless to stop what was coming, left with no choice but to watch helplessly as time slipped through his fingers.

Every night, as he lay down to sleep, the same thoughts circled in his mind — Voldemort was slowly regaining his strength. Perhaps, any day now, Snape would steal the Philosopher's Stone and present it to Voldemort, who waited deep within the Forbidden Forest.

And once Voldemort fully recovered… the first thing he would likely do was come straight to Hogwarts and take Harry's life.

Harry's mental state had worsened with each passing day. Yet oddly enough, this had made the Gryffindor students stop isolating him. Though most of them simply assumed he had come down with a classic case of "exam stress."

Hermione and Ron kept trying to reassure him, telling him that Hogwarts was the safest place in the world. Voldemort wouldn't dare break in so recklessly. As for Snape, there was no way he could sneak past Fluffy, through the trapdoor, and steal the Philosopher's Stone.

In the midst of this anxious waiting, the week-long final exams finally began. Sargeras was only responsible for overseeing the exams for the sixth and seventh years, and as far as he was concerned, the content of those exams was remarkably simple.

"Listen up, everyone…" Sargeras announced casually, his voice carrying through the classroom. "The Theory and Practical exams for Charms are extremely straightforward. The practical part… is grabbing a test paper. The theory part is… completing that paper."

"Professor, I… I don't understand…" a student raised their hand with a confused expression.

"You'll understand soon enough."

As Sargeras spoke, he casually tossed the stack of test papers into the air. The parchment sheets fluttered upward and, right before everyone's eyes, transformed into flocks of birds, paper cranes, and tiny flying insects, weaving swiftly through the classroom like living creatures.

"You have two hours to catch one of those papers. If you manage that, you pass the practical exam. It doesn't matter what spell you use, and I don't care whether I've taught it to you or not."

"But… what if we can't catch one, Professor?" another student asked, looking increasingly anxious.

"Then you get a zero…" Sargeras replied offhandedly as he pulled over a chair and sat down, adding with a shrug, "Zero for both the theory and practical exams."

With a wave of his wand, a large clock appeared on the blackboard. Its hands ticked steadily as he glanced at it. "As of now… you have one hour and fifty-eight minutes left."

In an instant, the classroom erupted into utter chaos.

The enchanted little creatures, transformed from the exam papers, were astonishingly nimble. They darted through the air, looping around the young witches and wizards in quick, teasing circles. Whenever a student reached out in an attempt to grab one, the creatures would burst into loud, mocking laughter that echoed through the room.

"Fool! You're a wizard! Fool! You're a wizard!" they jeered gleefully.

The young wizards quickly pulled out their wands. In a flash, beams of colored light shot in every direction as spells filled the air like fireworks.

Petrificus Totalus, Stupefy, Expelliarmus, along with Freezing Spells, Binding Spells, Leg-locker Curses — the room was ablaze with every kind of charm and hex imaginable. Many students cast spells wildly, not even pausing to see the results, focused only on launching as many spells as they could.

The overlapping magic turned the classroom into a chaotic battlefield. At first, because there were so many enchanted papers fluttering about, a few lucky students managed to grab one purely by accident. But seeing this only made the others more frantic, and soon enough, some of them abandoned all caution altogether, unleashing reckless, indiscriminate attacks.

They fired off every mischievous little hex they could think of, aiming directly at the densest clusters of flying papers. But the room was so packed with spellfire that it wasn't just the papers getting hit — some unfortunate students were struck by stray spells too.

Yet, it didn't take long for them to notice something even stranger. Every time someone was hit by another student's spell, the countdown on the clock above the blackboard would mysteriously jump ahead, shaving off an entire minute in an instant.

Finally, these unreliable young witcher and wizards began to calm down. They started paying attention to where their spells were landing, at least making an effort to aim properly.

Sargeras, meanwhile, stepped in occasionally to clean up the mess. He rescued one boy who had been knocked out cold by a Stupefy, a girl who was dancing uncontrollably under the effects of the Tarantallegra Charm, two boys completely petrified by a Petrificus Totalus, and another unfortunate student whose entire body was now covered in painful, fiery boils thanks to the rather poorly named Scorching Passion charm…

As the enchanted test papers flying about grew fewer and fewer, the difficulty of catching one increased sharply. Some of the more capable students quickly realized this and began to form small teams, working together.

Their plan was clear. Some of them focused on herding the papers toward the corners of the room, forcing them into tighter spaces. Others used spells to restrict the papers' movements, trapping them in place. And a few specialized in casting wide-range offensive spells to knock down their targets.

At first, their coordination left much to be desired, resulting in a few clumsy mishaps. But after two rounds of chaotic failures, their teamwork improved significantly. In the end, eight young wizards teamed up to cast Multi-Shot Jinx, the dazzling array of spells covering nearly half the classroom in an instant.

Sargeras couldn't help but feel rather pleased. It seemed that, for all their recklessness, these underage wizards had actually managed to learn something useful from his practical lessons after all.

Of course, there were always a few fools. For example, several students thought it was a brilliant idea to use Incendio and other similar flame-based spells… only to completely burn their own parchment to ashes, earning themselves a guaranteed spot on Sargeras' zero-score list.

Yes, strictly speaking, he had indeed said there were no restrictions on what spells could be used. But trying to catch parchment with fire magic… well, it wasn't impossible, but that was probably something only a professor could pull off.

Several minutes slipped by in the blink of an eye. When the time was up, the surviving enchanted papers drifted obediently back into Sargeras' hand. With the remaining parchments neatly gathered, he rose to his feet and strolled leisurely out of the classroom.

The next morning, in the owlery, a pure-white snowy owl glided down gracefully from the rafters, its wings stretched wide as it landed in front of him. Clutched tightly in its sharp talons was a small cylindrical case. The letter from Snowy Owl had arrived.

◇◆────────────────◆◇

To the Esteemed Mr. Raven,

Your remarkable efficiency and precision have left even the most seasoned smugglers of Knockturn Alley in quiet admiration. I hereby enclose the payment as agreed upon in our contract, and with this letter, I express my sincere respect for your flawless professionalism.

The De Vermis Mysteriis is included with this delivery. I trust it will aid you in unraveling the mysteries that weigh upon your mind and guide you toward the answers you seek.

I must also say, this latest cooperation has once again proven that your reputation within our circle is entirely deserved. If the old Hunter's Medallion were still awarded, I can say with confidence — there would be no one more worthy of it than you.

As I have mentioned before, my private collection room will always keep its highest-priority trading channels reserved for you. Should you ever wish to make use of them, the password for my encrypted Floo Network is Eternal Night's Radiance.

P.S. I will hold the time-turner for you until the Bronze Feather gathering at the end of July. I sincerely hope you will attend and that everything will go according to your wishes.

Your dear partner,

Snowy Owl

Amidst the Eye of the Storm over the Norwegian Sea

◇◆────────────────◆◇

Sargeras slipped the letter back into its envelope and carefully unfolded the parchment that had come with it. The moment the aged vellum spread open, a faint, eerie whisper drifted from its surface, sending an involuntary chill down his spine.

The light in the room seemed to dim as if the parchment itself were draining the brightness from the air. Sargeras had to lift his wand and conjure a soft glow just to make out the writing etched onto the page.

Each line of text writhed faintly under the glow, like living things crawling across the parchment. A subtle, oppressive scent of rot and darkness hung in the air, quietly resonating with some hazy, half-buried memory in the back of his mind.

Sargeras' brows furrowed slightly. With a gentle tap of his wand, a streak of light flashed over the parchment. He cast a temporary Sealant charm on the manuscript to prevent its power from leaking out.

Although, he had waited a long time for this manuscript, now was clearly not the time to study it in depth. First and foremost, he still had to finish grading that towering stack of exams for the young witches and wizards.

Once the holidays arrived, he would finally have all the time in the world to deal with his own affairs.

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[Chapter End's]

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