Harry noticed Hagrid's pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of his hut. He had always suspected there was more to that umbrella than met the eye. In fact, he strongly believed Hagrid's old wand from his school days was hidden inside it. Hagrid wasn't allowed to use magic—he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, though Harry had never quite figured out why. Whenever the subject came up, Hagrid would loudly clear his throat, act mysteriously oblivious, and swiftly change the topic.
"Was it the Engorgement Charm?" Hermione asked, half-dismissive but clearly intrigued. "Well, you did a remarkable job."
"Your little sister said the same," Hagrid nodded toward Ron, his beard twitching as he glanced slyly at Harry. "Met her yesterday. She said she was just wanderin' about, but I reckon she hoped to bump into someone at my place." He winked at Harry. "If you ask me, she wouldn't say no to an autograph—"
"Oh, stop it," Harry interrupted, flustered. Ron burst out laughing.
"It's getting late, Hagrid. It's nearly lunchtime, and we need to head back," Augustus reminded the group.
"Yeah, just had a bit of toffee earlier, and my stomach's running on empty now. We're off, Hagrid," Harry said, nodding at Hagrid before they turned to leave the hut.
"Come by anytime!" Hagrid waved them off warmly, turning back to tend to his pumpkins.
The four of them made their way back toward the castle. Just as they stepped into the cool, shaded entrance hall, a sharp voice rang out.
"There you are, Potter, Weasley."
Professor McGonagall approached them, her expression stern. "You two are staying behind this evening."
"What for, Professor?" Ron asked nervously, barely suppressing a hiccup.
"You'll be helping Mr. Filch polish the trophies in the trophy room," McGonagall said firmly. "By hand, Weasley—no magic."
Ron drew a sharp breath. Filch, the caretaker, was universally disliked by the students.
"And Potter, you'll be assisting Professor Lockhart in replying to his fan mail," McGonagall continued.
"Oh no, can't I do the trophies too?" Harry pleaded in despair.
"Certainly not," McGonagall said with an arched brow. "Professor Lockhart specifically requested you. Both of you, eight o'clock sharp."
Dejected, Harry and Ron trudged into the Great Hall, with Hermione trailing behind. Her expression seemed to say, Well, you did break the rules, didn't you?
Augustus headed toward the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was boasting loudly to his two cronies about how he had turned Ron into a slug.
"Mr. Augustus, back already? Is Weasley doing all right now?" Malfoy jumped to his feet as Augustus approached, motioning him to the seat beside him.
"He's fine now," Augustus replied nonchalantly, glancing at the mashed potatoes on the table.
"Well, well, since when did you care so much about Weasley, Malfoy? Could it be that you've developed some unspeakable fondness for him after your little scuffle?" Lilian appeared out of nowhere, her teasing tone making it clear that provoking Malfoy was second nature to her.
"Don't be ridiculous! Caring for fellow students has always been a Slytherin virtue. I'm simply upholding that tradition, something you wouldn't understand," Malfoy retorted, feigning a dignified air.
"Oh please, as a Slytherin, you must feel so constrained. You'd be better off in Hufflepuff—that's where your talents and virtues would truly shine," Lilian said with a mischievous grin.
Knowing he couldn't out-argue her, Malfoy went back to his meal, focusing on his mashed potatoes and roast chicken.
"Quite right. Personally, I think Hufflepuff would suit Draco perfectly," came an arrogant voice from nearby. Malfoy looked up to see Loki approaching them.
"Well, if it isn't our elusive prefect. What a rare treat for you to grace us with your presence," Malfoy said, feigning shock and disbelief.
"Mr. Augustus," Loki ignored Malfoy entirely, turning to Augustus instead. "I'm free this afternoon. Would you mind giving me some guidance?"
Feeling as though he had been utterly ignored, Malfoy's cheeks reddened slightly. He muttered under his breath, "I want in too, Mr. Augustus. Don't be unfair."
"And me as well. How could I miss out on something this exciting?" Lilian added, looking as if it were her right.
Augustus glanced at the three of them and nodded. "Since you're all so eager, let's make this a regular session. Every week at this time, meet me in the Slytherin common room. I'll take you to a dedicated space and provide guidance. But let me be clear—if anyone gives up halfway, don't expect to join again."
Loki, clearly surprised at the additional participants, shot them a haughty glance. "I hope you two don't drop out midway. Knowing you both, though, I have my doubts." With that, he turned and left the table.
"Hmph, arrogant fool. I'd like to see who's the one to quit first," Lilian muttered, a flicker of anger in her eyes.
"Don't mind him. He doesn't see us as equals anyway. A genius like him wouldn't waste his time on ordinary people like us," Malfoy said lazily, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
After the meal, Augustus returned to his dormitory. On the windowsill, his pure white gyrfalcon was enjoying its latest catch. Augustus walked over, gently stroking its feathers, earning contented chirps in return.
It had been a long time since he last taught anyone. In his previous life, he had become the head of a magical academy at a very young age. Teaching others felt like a distant memory. Yet, he felt confident about the three students he would guide that afternoon.
Loki was a prodigy—at such a young age, he had already mastered spells that many adult wizards could not, boasting immense magical reserves and the keen intellect crucial for a mage. In another world, someone like him might have reached near-legendary status.
As for Malfoy and Lilian, they were both talented in their own ways. Malfoy had a natural aptitude for magical dueling, his combative instincts giving him an edge. Lilian, on the other hand, excelled in theoretical understanding and the intricate details of spellcraft—a talent often attributed to her meticulous nature.
Looking at these three promising youths, Augustus couldn't help but feel hopeful. He looked forward to the surprises they might bring in their training sessions.
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