As the starlight from the Great Hall's ceiling filtered through the stained-glass windows, Dumbledore tapped his golden goblet. The dancing frosted gingerbread men froze instantly, then scurried back to their plates under Professor McGonagall's sharp glare.
"Before dinner begins, I have a few announcements to make…" Dumbledore continued, seeing that everyone's attention was now focused on him.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.
"Also, Mr. Filch, the castle caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that no student is permitted to use magic in the corridors."
Seeing no objections, he continued,
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
"Oh—In addition to that, we are fortunate to welcome two new professors this term!" The Headmaster's blue eyes swept across the staff table, and it was then that Sagres finally put down his knife and fork.
"The first is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—Professor Quirrell."
The man in the purple turban rose in a hurry, accidentally knocking over his mead.
As the spilled liquid was about to soak his copy of Curses and Counter-Curses, Sagres frowned and tapped the table's edge with his finger. The liquid flowed back into the cup, restoring it to its original state under Quirrell's stunned gaze.
Dumbledore's introduction continued: "And given the Ministry of Magic's new regulations, to enhance the practical abilities and theoretical foundations of Hogwarts graduates, the school board has approved a new course—Charms Theory and Practice."
As he spoke, he gestured in introduction, "And Professor Sagres Greengrass—" Dumbledore's tone was as lighthearted as if he were introducing a new flavor of cockroach cluster. "He will be responsible for this new subject, and all students who have passed their O.W.L.s must take this course."
Upon hearing this, the students reacted differently.
Draco Malfoy, at the Slytherin table, couldn't help but mutter mockingly, "My father said some people don't even have a N.E.W.T. certificate…"
"Keep it down!" Crabbe and Goyle, beside him, quickly stopped him with nervous glances. Although Malfoy was somewhat displeased, he did not continue speaking.
At the staff table, Sagres stood and nodded to the Headmaster. He didn't silence the students' whispers, as he considered such praise or criticism meaningless. However, the raven Loctis suddenly descended from the ceiling, landing on his shoulder.
"Quiet." A hoarse whisper scraped from the raven's throat, like rusty door hinges grinding. The eerie sound made everyone's hair stand on end.
At that moment, the obsidian embedded in the creature's left eye glowed faintly, and it still held half a piece of mithril in its beak.
Sagres raised his hand to calm the agitated Loctis, and then his calm voice reached everyone's ears: "I am Sagres Greengrass. Some of you may know me—a madman, a scholar, a murderer? Arrange it as you please. But as a friendly reminder, in my classroom, truth becomes a hungry beast, so I hope you're prepared in advance."
With that, he sat back down in his seat.
The Great Hall fell silent for a moment, then a burst of enthusiastic applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table—they were welcoming their former Ravenclaw alumnus, the once-renowned "Dangerous Genius."
Moments later, the feast officially began with Dumbledore's announcement…
...
"I think Dumbledore has lost his mind." Daphne Greengrass waved a dinner knife with an exaggerated expression. "He actually let a murderer teach us? What can a half-blood mongrel teach? How to brew a potion from a Mudblood's snot?"
Pansy Parkinson pouted. "Seems like you've got a serious issue with your cousin?"
"Shut up!" At those words, Daphne flared up like an enraged rooster. "He's a filthy Mudblood—the family has already disowned him."
"I thought so too. Otherwise, how did I hear he personally sent your two uncles to Azkaban?" Malfoy couldn't help but interject when he overheard their conversation, though his tone was more mocking than curious.
"Hmph, Malfoy, don't forget why he was imprisoned recently? My mother said he blew five people to smithereens with just one spell!"
Draco tapped his goblet with a silver fork. "What your mother says doesn't matter at all—she can't even tell the difference between a Dementor and a house-elf."
Daphne pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet and slapped it onto the long table. "At least she can tell that two of those five Dark wizards he blew up were your father's Death Eater colleagues."
"How dare you…"
"Keep your voices down!" Crabbe finally couldn't take it anymore. He whispered nervously to everyone, "Didn't your parents warn you not to provoke him? He's already spilled the blood of more than one pure-blood family…"
The long table suddenly fell silent, the only sound remaining the grating of knives and forks against porcelain plates.
...
After the feast, in the Gryffindor common room.
Harry and Ron sat by the fireplace, discussing the mysterious professor. Lately, news of the new professor had been everywhere.
Harry stared at the flickering shadows in the fire, his scar throbbing faintly.
He remembered Professor Greengrass's gaze toward Professor Quirrell during dinner—it had looked exactly like Uncle Vernon's expression when he found a spider spinning a web in the jam jar.
To be honest, he always felt something was off, but Ron insisted he was just being overly suspicious.
"That bird was really scary, wasn't it?" Ron said with a bit of exaggeration. "I've never seen a talking raven, and its voice was awful!"
Harry huddled in the armchair, unusually agreeable. "I also thought it was creepy… but was that really a raven?"
"What else could it be?" Ron grew more animated. "Making a raven talk—that has to involve Dark Arts."
"Uh, what are Dark Arts?" Harry asked, having only just entered the magical world and knowing little about such things.
"As the name suggests, it's dark magic—evil magic."
Harry paused. "But I think Professor Greengrass isn't a bad person. He even helped you fix your broken trunk on the train today…"
"I know, but The Daily Prophet also said he killed people!"
"Say that again—it was self-defense!" Hermione walked over, holding a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, looking formidable.
"And that wasn't a regular raven—it was a Nackaferin Raven, a magical creature that can speak naturally!"
Seeing the two boys speechless by the fireplace, Hermione added with a note of warning, "And you—you'd better not badmouth a professor behind his back, or Gryffindor might lose points because of it."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, their bewilderment almost overflowing. "Who does she think she is? The Minister of Magic?"
"Forget it, Ron. I think Hermione must have made Professor Greengrass her idol."
"Idol? What's that?"
"Uh… something like a spiritual leader, I guess."
"Ha, now I understand—like Death Eaters worship You-Know-Who."
…
Charms Class Premiere
Tuesday morning's Charms Theory class was Sagres's first lesson as a teacher at Hogwarts.
When he walked into the Charms classroom in the Ravenclaw Tower with Introduction to Magic in hand, he found that the classroom layout had completely changed since his student days—the original oak long tables had been replaced with circular stone platforms, and a floating crystal prism had been added to the center of the room.
He stepped onto one of the stone platforms, quickly scanned the students in the room, and then nodded. "Very good, everyone is here."
"I think we can skip introductions, but since this is a new course, I must explain a few things before we begin." Sagres drew his wand and tapped the podium lightly.
At once, the entire podium rose from the floor and hovered in mid-air.
Ignoring the gasps from the sixth-year students, the Introduction to Magic book in his hand melted into liquid, which floated into the air and rearranged itself into a constantly shifting string of words: Charms Theory and Practice.
"This course will only cover two things: the theory of Charms and practical spellcasting."
Scanning the students—who sat as orderly as a group of quails—Sagres couldn't help but reveal a faint smile.
It seemed his iron-fisted methods over the years hadn't been entirely ineffective. He thought this silently, but what he said was strictly related to teaching.
"Unlike Professor Flitwick's Charms class, this course does not cover the Standard Book of Spells."
The liquid words shifted accordingly.
"Charms Theory will help you build a magical cognitive system. By analyzing the historical evolution of spells, it will make you aware of the blind spots in the current teaching system."
Upon hearing this, a Ravenclaw student couldn't help but raise her hand to ask, "But Professor, hasn't the knowledge in the Standard Book of Spells already been historically validated?"
Sagres didn't turn his head. "The Standard Book of Spells you are currently studying is a product of the 1890 Spell Standardization Movement, issued only one hundred and one years ago. However, in the long centuries before that, magic itself had already developed into something splendid and diverse."
"But we—"
"I know what you're going to say," Sagres interrupted her. "Of course I know you all need to prepare for next year's N.E.W.T. exams, but don't worry—this course will not assign any homework, so it won't add to your already heavy workload. On the contrary, learning it well will make passing the N.E.W.T. exams even easier. That much is certain."
The moment he said there would be no homework, the students couldn't help but start whispering among themselves.
"Professor, is there really no homework for this course?"
Sagres's lips curled into a subtle arc. "Of course not. After all—"
His wand drew a sweeping arc through the air, and all the doors and windows locked in response.
"—practice is the best homework."
"Before we begin the formal lesson, are there any other questions?"
A small Hufflepuff boy timidly raised his right hand. "Then, Professor Greengrass… is learning this course just for the exam?"
"Excellent." Sagres nodded. "That's the question you should be focusing on." He spread his hands slightly, smiling, and continued:
"The answer is—of course not." Then, without further explanation, he began speaking about other matters.
"Does anyone know how many people die in the Auror Office each year?"
Seeing everyone shake their heads, Sagres continued.
"How many unbreakable magical runes will a curse-breaker encounter in their lifetime?"
The students still shook their heads.
"What should the Healers at St. Mungo's do when they encounter difficult patients?"
This time, without waiting for the students to respond, he gave the answer directly.
"The Standard Book of Spells allows you to cast spells in the simplest way—but it is not the most comprehensive, and it is not the most effective."
With a light swirl of his wand, the floating words exploded into stardust, which then formed a scene on the classroom dome: medieval wizards carving spells in cuneiform script.
"The Ministry of Magic introduced the Charms Theory and Practice course to allow underage wizards to learn survival skills beyond the exam framework before leaving school…"
"Whether you want to be an Auror, a scholar, or an alchemist, you need to learn this course well."
"Because the foundation of your future survival will be forged here."
Before he finished speaking, the silver ripples emanating from his wand tip had already spread across the surface of the stone platform.
Janet White, the former Ravenclaw prefect, felt her pupils suddenly constrict. She clearly sensed that the swirling thoughts in her mind were being smoothed by some unseen force.
All the students, the moment they were touched by the ripples, had their eyes suddenly sharpen and clear.
"Professor?" Her voice was so calm it startled even herself.
Sagres stepped down from the floating platform, his black robe sweeping past the words still suspended in mid-air. "Emotion is the mist of cognition. So, in my class, you will need absolute rationality."
"Professor Greengrass, are you saying you cast a spell on us?" The students quickly realized the change within themselves.
A tall, thin boy calmly spoke while observing his own condition. "I'm afraid so. After all, if our emotions hadn't been affected, we wouldn't be this calm right now."
"I believe this is irregular. The Ministry of Magic wouldn't allow an unregistered, unknown spell to be cast on students." The Hufflepuff students began to calmly "protest" as well.
Sagres brushed his fingertips across the textbooks on the front row desks, answering everyone without turning his head: "Mechanical Mind—specially approved by the Department of Magical Education at the Ministry of Magic. Its effect is to keep you in a state of absolute rationality for ninety minutes—limited, of course, to the classroom."
"Professor Greengrass, we've never heard of this spell."
"Because it is part of my unique branch of emotional magic."
As he spoke, all the students' textbooks flew onto their desks and flipped open to page 12.
"Lesson One: the distribution of Accio's magical nodes…"
For the next ninety minutes, only Sagres's voice echoed throughout the classroom.
When the last silver glow dissipated into the dome prism, the dismissal bell startled those still immersed in the lesson.
The students' emotions gradually returned, and then they looked at one another—those complex magical rune trajectories were etched into their minds as if carved by a knife.
Only now did the students fully understand why Professor Greengrass had said at the start-of-term feast that "everyone will gain something in his class."
If Harry had been there, he would've bet even Neville could perfectly recite those spell decay formulas.
Waving his wand, Sagres restored the transformed floating podium to its original state. His low voice echoed in everyone's ears:
"Spellcasting practice, next Tuesday."
Then, without sparing a glance at the now-revived classroom full of students, he turned and left.
…
The classroom immediately erupted.
"That was bloody brilliant!"
"Cool!"
"Freaking Wicked!"
"No notes needed at all!" the Hufflepuff boy exclaimed, staring at his blank parchment. "I can actually remember every word Professor Greengrass said."
"If you ask me, if other classes used this method too…"
The students chattered nonstop, each of them looking slightly exhilarated.
_______
Don't forget to add this to your library~!