The Gryffindor common room.

The fire crackled in the fireplace, but it couldn't dispel the heavy atmosphere.

Students gathered in small groups, whispering about the shocking events of the night.

"Merlin's butt pimple," George Weasley murmured, "I've never seen anything like that at Hogwarts…"

"Yeah! A professor pointing a wand at the Headmaster?" Dean Thomas added. "That's definitely going into the history books!!"

In the corner, Harry gently nudged Hermione's elbow. "Are you alright?"

"Me? I'm fine…" Hermione replied distractedly, her fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of her book.

Ron poured her a large glass of butterbeer from a crystal bottle. "Don't let it get to you. Malfoy got a month's detention!"

"Hm, I'm fine…" Hermione stared into her cup, then suddenly asked, "Do you think… Professor Greengrass will be fired?"

"Absolutely not!" Ron blurted out, then quickly looked around and lowered his voice. "I mean… Dumbledore, he… sometimes…"

His voice trailed off.

Harry picked it up: "We all know Dumbledore is a great wizard, but if he really saw what Malfoy did and didn't step in, then he was wrong. He's the Headmaster. That's his job, isn't it?"

"You're right..." Ron nodded. "Well.. um yeah.. He didn't, so ..he apologized to Hermione and even made a promise..."

"I'm still worried about Professor Greengrass..." Hermione frowned, watching the firelight flicker. "What if he gets fired? He did break Snape's wand..."

Ron, curled up in the armchair, muttered, "That was Snape's own fault. I bet the old bat is fuming right now..."

"Didn't you say Professor Greengrass taught at Ilvermorny before?" Harry said suddenly. "He's so talented—Hogwarts won't fire him that easily!"

"If anyone should be fired, it's Snape or Lockhart!" Ron chimed in.

"Why?" Hermione turned, frowning. "What's wrong with Professor Lockhart? Why are you slandering him like that?"

"Merlin, Hermione, are you blind?" Ron waved his arms dramatically. "You're so smart—how haven't you figured it out yet? School's been in session for a week, and everyone already knows—he might as well have 'I'm a Liar' tattooed on his forehead!"

Hermione pursed her lips, clearly displeased. "It's too early to say that. It's only been a week since school started."

She clutched her copy of Travels with Trolls tightly, though doubt had begun to form in her heart.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look, wisely choosing not to argue further.

...

...

After sending the two girls back to Hogwarts, Sagres walked alone to the edge of the Black Lake.

Night had fallen, and the surface of the lake shimmered with silver light under the moon.

Suddenly, the Bronze Feather badge in his pocket grew hot.

He quickly took out the badge and saw shimmering text appear in the bronze bird's eye: "Mount Kusi (Africa), Nangdu Leopard sighted, urgent assistance requested."

Sagres's fingers immediately clenched, and the magical runes of a Portkey lit up with a faint blue glow in his palm.

Woosh~!

A moment later, space twisted violently around him, pulling him into a vortex.

When the dizziness subsided, he found himself standing in a dilapidated wooden hut.

Rotten floorboards creaked beneath his feet, and moonlight streamed in through the gaps, illuminating several familiar figures inside.

Hummingbird was crouched in a corner, examining a blackened corpse with her wand. Robin and Nightingale were whispering near the window, their wands casting soft defensive light.

Thunderbird and Kestrel—usually the loudest—were, for once, not arguing. The informant Stork sat obediently at the table, discussing strategy with Snowy Owl.

"Mr. Raven!" Swift strode over quickly, robes stained with mud and blood. "Things are out of control."

Sagres noticed the tip of Swift's wand was scorched—something he had never seen before.

"Gringotts discovered ancient magical ruins beneath the desert, not far from here," Swift said, voice tight as a bowstring. "I was called in to break the curse, but the moment I arrived, the monster broke free from underground."

He pointed out the window as a distant crashing sound echoed—trees toppling one after another.

Even from inside, Sagres could already smell the cloying sweetness in the air—the Nangdu Leopard's poisonous mist was spreading.

"More than seventy Wizards have already been poisoned and fallen unconscious," Swift said, his fingernails digging into his palm. "Worse still, the poisonous mist has spread to three Muggle villages—around two thousand Muggles affected…"

He didn't go on, but Sagres understood. Over two thousand innocent lives, lost due to a miscalculated excavation by Gringotts.

Sagres looked toward the blurred, towering shadow in the distance, his grip tightening unconsciously around his wand.

Though he had read about this creature in books many times, it was his first time seeing a Nangdu Leopard in person—this XXXXX-class beast that roamed the African wilderness was even more terrifying than the textbooks suggested.

Bathed in moonlight, the outline of the monster slowly became distinct: its sleek body was nearly ten times the size of an ordinary leopard, and its amber eyes glowed faintly in the dark. But its most lethal trait was the poisonous mist it exhaled with every breath, spreading now like a living thing through the night sky.

Sagres recalled Newt Scamander's warning, marked in bright red ink: "More deadly than a dragon, more savage than a basilisk. Historically, only subdued once—by the joint effort of hundreds of elite Wizards."

Boom!

The wooden hut suddenly shook violently, a roar splitting the night.

A burst of blazing red light shot from the tip of Sagres's wand, casting a sharp silhouette on the wall.

"You are responsible for evacuating the survivors." His voice was as calm as still water. "I'll handle the beast."

"Be careful!" Thunderbird warned urgently. "Attacking it will only cause it to release even more concentrated poisonous mist!"

Sagres nodded. With a tap of his wand, he cast a Bubble-Head Charm on himself.

He reached out and took the emerald-colored potion offered by Nightingale, tucking it into his pocket. It was a top-grade antidote, primarily formulated from Mandrake and Phoenix tears.

Pushing open the door, he was immediately struck by the desert's searing wind. Fortunately, the incident had occurred in a remote region—otherwise, the number of casualties might have been ten times worse.

"More deadly than a dragon, more savage than a basilisk. Historically, only subdued once—by the joint effort of hundreds of elite Wizards, huh?"

Sagres locked onto the monster's location.

"Let's see for ourselves, shall we?" He muttered, and in the next instant, his body blurred and transformed into the shape of a massive raven, hurtling through the air toward the target.

___

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