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Harry spotted Hagrid's pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of his hut. He'd always suspected there was more to it than met the eye. In fact, Harry was pretty sure Hagrid's old school wand was hidden inside.
Hagrid wasn't allowed to use magic anymore. He'd been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, but Harry had never gotten the full story.
Anytime the subject came up, Hagrid would loudly clear his throat and pretend not to hear until the topic changed.
"An Engorgement Charm?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed but still kind of intrigued. "Well… you pulled it off pretty well."
"Your little sister said the same thing," Hagrid nodded at Ron. "Saw her just yesterday." Then he glanced at Harry, his beard twitching. "Said she was just out for a walk… but I reckon she was hoping to bump into someone in my hut." He gave Harry a wink. "If you ask me, she wouldn't say no to a signed photo—"
"Oh, knock it off," Harry interrupted quickly. Ron burst out laughing.
"It's getting late, Hagrid—almost lunchtime. We need to head back," Augustus reminded the three of them.
"Yeah, we only had a bit of fudge earlier. My stomach's empty again. We've gotta go, Hagrid," Harry nodded, and the four of them turned to leave the hut.
"Drop by anytime! You're always welcome here," Hagrid called after them, waving before turning back to work on his pumpkins.
As the group headed back toward the castle, they had just stepped into the cool, shady entrance hall when a stern voice rang out."There you are, Potter, Weasley," Professor McGonagall marched toward them, wearing her usual no-nonsense expression. "You two are staying after class tonight."
"What for, Professor?" Ron asked nervously, trying to stifle a burp.
"You'll be helping Mr. Filch polish the silver in the Trophy Room," McGonagall said. "By hand, Weasley—no magic allowed."
Ron gasped. Filch was probably the most hated person in the entire school.
"Potter, you'll be assisting Professor Lockhart with his fan mail," she added.
"Oh, come on! Can't I polish trophies too?" Harry pleaded in despair.
"Absolutely not," McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Professor Lockhart specifically requested you. Eight o'clock sharp—don't be late."
Harry and Ron trudged into the Great Hall looking miserable, with Hermione following behind. The expression on her face clearly said, "Well, you did break the rules…"
Augustus headed to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was bragging loudly to his two sidekicks about how he'd turned Ron into a snot-nosed slug.
"Augustus, you're back! Ron's alright?" Malfoy quickly stood up when he noticed Augustus approaching, offering him the seat beside him.
"He's fine," Augustus replied casually, glancing at the mashed potatoes on the table.
"Oh? Since when do you care about Weasley, Malfoy?" Lillian appeared out of nowhere, teasing Malfoy like it was second nature. "Don't tell me you've developed some unspeakable feelings for him after that slug incident."
"Don't be ridiculous. Caring for fellow students has always been a noble Slytherin tradition—I'm simply carrying that forward. Not that you'd understand," Malfoy sniffed with mock dignity.
"Right… must be tough, being stuck in Slytherin. I think you'd be better off in Hufflepuff—your 'virtues' would really shine there," Lillian smirked maliciously.
Malfoy knew better than to argue with Lillian, so he just buried himself in his food, focusing all his energy on the mashed potatoes and roast chicken.
"She's got a point. Honestly, Hufflepuff does seem like the right place for Draco," came a cool, confident voice from nearby.
Malfoy looked up and saw Loki walking toward them.
"Well, well, look who it is—our mysterious upperclassman. What an honor that you'd grace us with your presence today. We're truly humbled," Malfoy said with exaggerated surprise.
"Augustus, I happen to be free this afternoon. Would you mind giving me some guidance?" Loki ignored Malfoy completely and looked straight at Augustus.
It was like punching air. Malfoy blushed slightly and grumbled, "I want to come too, Augustus. Don't leave me out."
"And me! No way I'm missing out on something like this," Lillian added, like it was only natural.
Augustus looked at the three of them and gave a slight nod. "If you're that interested, fine. From now on, this time every week, meet in the Slytherin common room. I'll take you to a special training area and give you some real instruction. But listen up—if anyone quits halfway, don't expect to be invited back."
Loki looked surprised that two others would be joining. He cast a haughty glance at them and said, "Let's hope neither of you are the ones who give up. But knowing you, I wouldn't hold my breath." Then he turned and walked off.
"Tch. Arrogant jerk. I'll show him who's gonna quit," Lillian muttered, her eyes flashing with defiance.
"Don't bother with him. He obviously doesn't think much of us. He's a 'genius,' after all—we're just mere mortals in his eyes," Malfoy said lazily, wiping his mouth.
After lunch, Augustus returned to his dorm. On the windowsill, his pure white saker falcon was tearing into some small prey it had caught. Augustus walked over and gently smoothed its feathers. The falcon let out a series of contented chirps.
It had been a long time since he'd taught anyone. In his past life, he'd become the headmaster of a magic academy at a young age. Teaching others felt like a distant memory. But he was genuinely hopeful about these three.
Loki—now there was a real prodigy. He'd already mastered spells most adult wizards hadn't, had an enormous pool of magical energy, and, most importantly, had a sharp, tactical mind. His awareness of timing and battlefield instincts made him a true natural. If he'd existed in Augustus's old world, he'd easily have reached near-legendary status by now.
As for Malfoy and Lillian—they were both highly talented too. They had a great feel for magic and strong intuition for spellwork. If it came to theoretical magic, Lillian was a bit ahead—thanks to the natural attention to detail girls often have.
But in a real magical duel, Malfoy had the edge. His instincts and raw battle sense were sharper—that was just the natural advantage boys had in combat.
All in all, Augustus had high hopes for the trio. As someone who deeply valued talent, he was excited to see what kind of surprises they might bring during the upcoming training sessions.
"....."