The seven mbers of the Slytherin Quidditch team stood in formation, each holding a brand-new Nimbus 2001. The silver-plated engravings on the broomsticks shimred in the sunlight.
Draco slowly stroked the registration number on the broom's tail, a malicious glint in his eyes.
"Allow to introduce myself—I'm the new Slytherin Seeker," Draco said smugly. "Would you like to admire the new broomsticks my father bought for our team?"
The Gryffindor students silently stared at the seven top-of-the-line broomsticks, unable to say a word.
"Not bad, right?" Draco said with a false smile. "But I'm sure the Gryffindor team can afford new brooms too. After all, those Shooting Stars of yours are antiques—any museum would pay handsoly for them."
The Slytherin team burst into laughter in unison, while the Gryffindors flushed with anger.
"At least every mber of the Gryffindor team earned their spot through skill, not by buying brooms for everyone else!" Hermione retorted sharply.
Draco's fake smile faltered, as though she had struck a nerve. "You've got no right to speak here, you filthy little Mudblood!"
The mont the slur left his mouth, the scene spiraled out of control. Fred and George lunged at Draco, only to be blocked by Marcus Flint.
"What did you just say?" Alicia Spinnet, a Gryffindor Chaser, shouted furiously. Ron also drew his wand, aiming it directly at Draco.
"Ronald Weasley…"
A chilling voice, like a splash of ice water, rang out behind them. Everyone turned to see Sagres already standing there. Not far off, Snape was also quickly approaching.
"Are you going to curse a classmate?" Sagres looked at Ron expressionlessly. "Think carefully, Mr. Weasley—if you're confident you can handle Lucius when he cos looking for trouble afterward, I won't stop you."
"But Professor, he insulted Hermione…"
"I heard him," Sagres said, turning to Draco.
"A long-forgotten word…"
He looked around at the Slytherin students, his voice calm and unwavering.
"I'm amazed that after all these years, your vocabulary is still so pathetically limited."
His gaze swept across their collars, and the seven Slytherin students instinctively took a half-step back.
"Fifty points from Slytherin," he announced evenly. "And as for you, Draco—one month of detention. If you utter one more word, I'll make it two."
Draco Malfoy's face turned dark with rage.
"Professor, isn't this—" Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, began to protest.
"Marcus Flint!" Sagres cut him off sharply. "If I were you, I'd stand still and keep my mouth shut."
"But—"
"Before you speak, Marcus, think carefully about how many mbers are left in the Flint family."
"Ah.." Marcus Flint's face turned ghostly pale.
"Sagres…" Snape approached in silence. "Is one month of detention not a bit excessive?"
"Excessive?" Sagres replied without turning. "Did you hear what Draco said, Professor?"
"Too far away. I didn't catch it clearly…" Snape said expressionlessly.
"Really? I can extract his mory and let you relive that charming little speech yourself," Sagres said, raising an eyebrow.
Draco, visibly alard, took another step back.
Snape cast a cold glance at him. "But if I rember correctly, you already deducted points."
"Yes. But the school rules don't state that deducting points excludes detention."
"One month of detention is still open to debate."
"Professor, he said Mudblood," Sagres repeated, his voice sharpening. "Have you perhaps misunderstood the weight of that word? Or… does it stir up so pleasant mories for you? Heh~"
Snape suddenly stiffened. His expression twisted with fury.
"How dare you!" he snarled, abruptly drawing his wand. "How dare you use Legilincy on !"
The students jumped in fright, scattering instinctively. But Sagres remained perfectly still, even adjusting his cuff with calm, deliberate care.
"Are you going to attack , Professor?" he said, smiling faintly, eyes fixed on Snape, utterly unfazed by the wand leveled at him.
"Then I advise you to think carefully…" Sagres's voice was so soft it was nearly a whisper. "Very… very carefully…"
But his eyes clearly said: Go ahead. Try it.
Snape's face twisted with fury, his knuckles white as he gripped his trembling wand.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
A blinding flash burst from the tip of his wand.
Just as the spell was about to strike its target, a streak of gray lightning shot down from above, intercepting the curse with perfect precision.
Snape's pupils shrank—it was Sagres's raven. Noctis.
The bird dove straight through the spell light, unhard, and continued its attack.
Surprise flickered across Snape's face for only a mont before it hardened into icy killing intent. "Sectumsempra!"
But again, the raven charged directly into the slicing spell. The arc of dark magic swept across its wings, leaving only faint traces.
In an instant, Noctis was upon him.
"Impedi—"
Swish!
"Arh!" Three sharp claws raked across Snape's face, leaving bloody streaks and cutting off his incantation.
Snape staggered backward, wand trembling in his hand once more, now glowing with a dangerously deep red light.
"Ugh! Get lost!"
But the raven was faster—swooping down, it snatched Snape's wand with precise timing, then soared upward in a wide arc before circling back to land neatly on Sagres's shoulder.
A mont later, a burst of brilliant fire ignited the air. Fawkes tore through the sky, and in a swirl of fla, Dumbledore's figure erged slowly from the light.
"Always late, Dumbledore~" Sagres said, his back turned to the Headmaster, his voice laced with icy sarcasm. "Just like back then…"
"Sagres, you shouldn't—"
"Shouldn't continue to tolerate your stupidity and arrogance?" Sagres calmly took the wand from Noctis's beak, his slender fingers gently stroking it as if handling a fragile treasure.
Dumbledore said nothing. The surrounding students instinctively stepped back, leaving a wide, tense circle between the two wizards.
"You thought I used Legilincy on him?" Sagres asked, then shook his head, visibly disappointed. "Truly… disappointing."
He slowly turned around, his voice disturbingly calm: "When Draco shouted Mudblood, you didn't co…"
"When Snape cursed , you still didn't co…"
"But the mont Noctis took this wand—"
A mocking smile curved his lips.
"—You arrived."
Crack!
A sharp snapping sound echoed across the Quidditch pitch—the wand broke cleanly in Sagres's hand.
"Ah.. my.." Snape's face turned ashen in an instant, while the usual gentleness in Dumbledore's blue eyes vanished, replaced by a piercing sharpness.
"Sagres, do you know what you're doing?"
"Perfectly well, Headmaster." Sagres t the old man's gaze, his tone calm as still water. "I'm doing what should have been done six years ago."
He casually fed the mithril engravings from the broken wand to the raven perched on his shoulder, then waved his hand to release it.
"If I'd broken your wands back then, perhaps the favoritism and protection in this school would've been less blatant…" His boots crunched against the gravel, each step falling like a heavy drumbeat on the hearts of everyone watching. "Although I can't undo your foolishness—"
A cold gleam flashed in his grey eyes.
"—I can at least put an end to the injustice happening now."
Dumbledore's expression turned unreadable, a tangle of emotions hidden beneath the surface.
"Honestly, Dumbledore, as Headmaster, you've done… quite poorly." Sagres shook his head, disappointnt and a frosty determination etched into every line of his brow. "You gave no justice back then, and now, not even the basic respect I'm due."
The fragnts of the wand turned to dust in his palm, scattering into the wind.
"An apology, Albus," he said, locking eyes with the Headmaster. "Or today, it won't be just one wand that gets broken."
!!!
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