Please check the notes/thoughts section at the end of the chapter~♥
Before leaving, Sagres and Nightingale briefly explored the ruins.
The place was clearly ancient; Nightingale's long boots crunched over lichen-mottled flagstones, and the glow from her wand tip startled a flock of sleeping Bronze Feather beetles.
As those thumb-sized magical creatures flapped their wings, they traced faint green paths through the damp air, like meteors streaking across the night sky.
"The architectural style suggests it dates back to the Tudor period."
Nightingale touched the bas-relief on the stone door, where vine-like golden fern fronds emerged from the relief's eye sockets. "It was originally a magical plant cultivation area. Erios hardly touched these thirteenth-century plants when he renovated it."
Sagres used his everlasting flower wood wand to pick up a dark red plant hanging from the archway, carefully sidestepping its thorny tendrils.
"Collect what you need, leave the rest here, and I'll leave a permanent Portkey so you can come back anytime," Sagres said.
Nightingale nodded in agreement, her glass potion bottle already hovering beside her, the yew wood spoon on its cork automatically collecting rare specimens.
This ruin, preserved since the Tudor era, contained many rare species. They even discovered two plants listed as functionally extinct by the Ministry of Magic.
This delighted Nightingale, as her inclusion in Bronze Feather was not due to prowess in offensive magic, but rather her ability to brew over ten complex potions—an impressive feat for a young potion master.
"I'll return directly to Hogwarts," Sagres said, handing two unfinished wands to Nightingale. "Aside from Bronze Feather assignments, I probably won't leave otherwise."
Nightingale nodded, taking the wands, and spoke with some hesitation, "Sagres…"
"What is it, Veiliss?"
"Next July, I'll be taking up a professor position at Beauxbatons…"
"What is Maxime having you teach?"
"That is indeed what you excel at…" Sagres nodded seriously. "But I have a suggestion."
"Wear a veil—otherwise your students might not learn anything!"
"Pfft~! I'll seriously consider it." Nightingale laughed, and the glow-in-the-dark ferns on the ceiling of the ruins suddenly flickered in unison, as if winking.
"Cast Frost Magic at least three times a week; it will greatly help suppress the Veela bloodline in your body…" Sagres tapped her dragonhide pouch at her waist with his wand. "And… remember to remind them of the unfinished steps when handing over the wands…"
Then he plucked a glowing luminous rose. Its petals solidified the moment they touched his wand, transforming into a perpetually fresh brooch.
"How can you casually give a lady a rose?" Nightingale teased, a cunning smile on her lips. "You've become too gentle lately, Mr. Greengrass."
"Indeed… perhaps I've been charmed by you?"
"I now suspect I accidentally mixed Amortentia into the Felix Felicis I gave you." Nightingale winked at him.
"That would have been quite redundant…" Sagres replied dryly. "Veritaserum would suffice."
"Pft—Bahaha.. You've changed a little.."
"Spending time teaching children instead of killing enemies does that," Sagres said while thinking.
"Or maybe the old bastard gave you a drugged candy!"
Nightingale laughed even more brightly, then put away her potion bottle and decisively waved goodbye to Sagres. "Then, farewell, Sagres…"
Before her words had fully faded, she vanished in a flash of silver light.
Sagres smiled, then Apparated back to Hogsmeade.
He remembered Dumbledore once saying that Apparating directly into someone's home was very impolite—no different from kicking down their front door.
He figured that Hogwarts, in the Headmaster's eyes, was probably like home too, so Apparating away from the castle was fine, but Apparating directly back might truly anger Dumbledore.
Christmas was approaching, and Hogsmeade Village was covered in a thick layer of snow, with the edges of the lake frozen solid.
Sagres encountered two unexpected people here—the Weasley twins.
As he walked down the street, the two brothers were just squeezing out of Honeydukes.
The Weasley twins looked rather embarrassed when they realized they had bumped into a professor—it was clearly an unexpected encounter for them.
"If I'm not mistaken, today isn't a Hogsmeade weekend."
Sagres calmly asked the two brothers, "So, gentlemen, who will tell me why you are here?"
Fred: "Professor, it's a misunderstanding—"
George: "Yeah, after all, who would risk violating school rules just to come to Hogsmeade?"
Fred: "Even if someone would, it certainly wouldn't be a Weasley."
George: "And even if it were a Weasley, it definitely wouldn't be us two!"
Fred: "Exactly—George and I probably just got temporarily lost."
Sagres raised a hand to interrupt the two brothers' nonsense. "What a coincidence. I happen to know the way back to Hogwarts."
The two brothers immediately wilted but had no choice except to follow Sagres toward the castle.
"Don't look so down," Sagres said to the two young wizards behind him without turning his head. "Going back with me now won't cost you any points. Or you can choose to stay in Hogsmeade, and then I'll deduct five points from each of you."
Fred: "Thank you, Professor, but I think it's better if we go back to Hogwarts."
George: "Fred is right. But Professor, why are you in Hogsmeade?"
Sagres turned to look at them, speaking with a half-smile. "If I were you two, I'd keep quiet right now."
The twins immediately got the message and stayed silent, no longer trying to pry.
Sagres shook his head, leading the two brothers through the wind and snow toward Hogwarts.
The weather was cold, but the owls were unusually busy during this time, as it was already mid-December, and many young wizards were sending letters home to inquire about staying at school for the holidays.
In Potions class, Malfoy and his cronies, as always, were causing trouble.
"I find it quite regrettable…" Malfoy said slowly, with a hint of deliberate sarcasm in his tone, while squinting at Harry, "because those who have to stay at school for Christmas are all homeless."
Crabbe and Goyle snickered nearby, trying to add fuel to Malfoy's mockery with their laughter. Harry, however, focused on weighing the lionfish bone powder, ignoring their provocations.
Ever since the last Quidditch match, Malfoy had held a grudge against Harry for hogging the limelight on the field. Anger and jealousy intertwined in his heart, so he once again used Harry's lack of a home to mock him.
The news that young wizards could stay at Hogwarts for Christmas made Harry overjoyed. He wouldn't have to go back and face Uncle Vernon's bullying, nor would he have to see Dudley's hateful face; this would be the happiest Christmas he had had in years.
Whenever he thought of this, a warmth and anticipation surged within him, making Malfoy's taunts much more bearable.
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