The number 93 was nailed to a mold-stained brick wall in Diagon Alley.
Passing wizards all assumed it was an abandoned warehouse.
Sagres tapped the bricks lightly three times with his wand, and they shifted like piano keys, revealing a spiral staircase leading down to a basement—his temporary residence rented at the price of two Galleons a week.
It used to be the sugar cellar of a dessert shop.
"Antecessum Scourgify," he said, waving his wand at the oak barrels coated in layers of icing. Amid the scent of aged cream, twelve barrels automatically connected into a long desk, and the toffee syrup stuck to the walls melted into amber-colored desk lamps.
When the Daily Prophet slid in through a crack in the window, the headline on the front page read: "Order of Merlin Recipient Cleared of Charges, to Teach at Hogwarts!"
The accompanying photo showed his back as he walked out of Azkaban, the sea breeze lifting the hem of his black robes.
Beneath the headline was a copy of the Ministry of Magic's pardon decree.
Sagres folded the newspaper into a paper crane and tossed it into the fireplace. The flames licked over the words "Dangerous Genius" in the headline, and in the blink of an eye, it was reduced to ash.
Suddenly, a warm splat of bird droppings landed on the pardon decree.
"You're twenty-seven seconds late," he said without looking up.
Ash rained down as the raven Noctis folded its wings, which shimmered with a metallic sheen, and held a perfectly sealed letter in its beak.
This creature was a cursed construct he had picked up in the ruins of Durmstrang. Its left eye had been embedded with a piece of obsidian capable of refracting magic. Now it survived by feeding on Sagres's magic, and in return, the raven—named Noctis—served as his messenger.
Sagres glanced at the letter. Instantly, from his dragonhide trunk, a quill and a piece of parchment floated out.
He pulled out a small handful of mithril shavings.
Noctis immediately flew down to perch on his forearm, tilting its head and letting out a sharp, grating cry.
"Quiet."
Scolded, the raven turned away and began pecking at the mithril shavings. At the same time, the quill scratched smoothly across the parchment:
Required Texts for Advanced Charms Theory and Practice
Advanced Charms Applications – Miranda Goshawk (1897 Revised Edition)
An Introduction to Magic – Society for the Study of Ancient Magic
Advanced Magical Topology – Sagres Greengrass (Manuscript Facsimile Edition)
The pen paused briefly, then added a final line in smaller script:
Recommended Tools:
Mithril-plated Slide Rule
Dual-sided Crystal Prism
As he placed the stopper back on the inkwell, sunlight streamed through the basement's high window, casting a soft glow on the side of his face.
Sagres loosened his shirt collar and stood before the fitting mirror. The Hogwarts professor's black robes automatically adjusted their cut until the silver-thread embroidery of the Ravenclaw crest appeared on the left side of his chest.
It was a privilege granted to him as an alumnus.
...
The scent of coal ash billowed from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters in the thick steam.
Sagres walked through a crowd of new students pushing luggage trolleys, the hem of his black robes brushing against the suitcase of a red-haired boy—on the exposed corner of the case, a Chocolate Frog card showed Dumbledore's image winking at him.
"Move! Move! This stupid trunk's falling apart!"
Ron Weasley's shout and the snap of bursting trunk springs exploded at the same time.
A pile of magical textbooks, along with magazines, comic books, newspapers, half a bag of leftover Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and even a limping old rat, flew past Sagres's boots.
Behind him, another boy wearing glasses was trying to tape up the cracked trunk.
"Reparo," Sagres said with a gentle wave of his hand. The scattered items flew back into the trunk at greater speed, and the brass clasps reassembled themselves into a sturdier geometric structure.
Ron stared wide-eyed at the now-intact suitcase. Sagres asked, "Red hair? Are you from the Weasley family?"
He noticed the worn wand sticking out of the boy's pocket—white ash wood with a faint crack running through the grain. The tip glowed faintly, and the unicorn hair core was frayed and exposed.
Before Ron could answer, Sagres continued, "Even a first-year should know a basic repair charm. Especially a Weasley."
Seeing the two boys frozen on the spot, at a loss for words, Sagres shook his head and turned to walk toward the rear of the train.
The whistle drowned out their stammered thanks.
After he entered the compartment at the very end of the last carriage, a layer of frost immediately formed on the doorknob—an enhanced repelling charm that made passersby subconsciously ignore the compartment.
...
Hermione Granger pushed open the door to a compartment. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost his toad."
Harry and Ron, who were in the middle of snacking, looked up and shook their heads at the girl in the doorway.
Just then, a gust of wind from the window flipped open the Daily Prophet, revealing the front-page headline—"Order of Merlin Recipient Cleared of Charges! Controversial Genius Returns to Hogwarts."
In the accompanying photo, a handsome man in black robes had a profile as cold and sharp as a sculpture. Behind him, the iron bars of Azkaban twisted into a blurred backdrop under the morning light.
"Merlin's beard! He's actually going to be a professor at Hogwarts!" Ron's nose was nearly pressed to the paper, with Chocolate Frog crumbs stuck to the edge of the headline. "It says here he blew up five wizards with magic!"
Harry leaned in for a closer look. In the photo, Sagres suddenly raised his eyes and glanced toward the camera. A flash of silver gleamed in his grey eyes, startling Harry so much that his hand jerked, and the Chocolate Frog leapt into Ron's pumpkin juice.
"They were five dark wizards," Hermione corrected immediately, then turned to shut the compartment door. "I've read about him—more than one article."
"What's the Order of Merlin?" Harry took the chance to ask.
Hermione drew her wand and cleaned the mess. "I read reports from several newspapers. The Daily Prophet loves to deliberately blur the facts. But the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Files clearly state that those five were dark wizards trying to kidnap a Muggle MP. At the time, Professor Greengrass was with the Auror Command Division."
"But this says he burned the bodies to ash…" Ron shivered.
"Not burned—he used a spell he created himself," Hermione pointed to a line of small text in the article. "Eyewitnesses said he used only a single spell, without even saying the incantation."
"You still haven't told me—what exactly is the Order of Merlin?" Harry asked again, unable to hold back as neither of them had answered his question.
"How can you not know that?" Hermione looked at him in surprise.
"The Order of Merlin is one of the highest honors in the wizarding world. It's been awarded by the Wizengamot since the 15th century. It symbolizes recognition of a wizard's personal achievements and contributions."
She lifted the newspaper in her hand. "It says here that on the very day he was expelled from Hogwarts, he improved several healing spells, including Episkey, Vulnera Sanentur, and Rennervate. The healing rate for severe injuries increased by at least sixty percent. At the time, Dumbledore, who expelled him, was heavily criticized by many media outlets—people said he was growing senile."
"That kind of sounds like he was trying to prove a point to the person who expelled him…" Harry muttered.
"I heard about it from my dad too, but apparently Professor Greengrass didn't even attend the award ceremony afterward," Ron said.
Hermione neither confirmed nor denied it, instead pointing to another section of the article. "It says here that after he was expelled in fifth year, he chose to transfer to Durmstrang and graduated two years later. After that, he was invited to teach at Ilvermorny, but resigned a year later. Then he traveled for a year, after which he was exceptionally recruited by the British Ministry of Magic."
Ron, chewing on a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, mumbled, "And ended up in Azkaban for murder?"
"It was self-defense!" Hermione's curls bounced with her rising tone. "The Wizard Rights Protection Act clearly states—when an Auror is in danger during a mission, they're allowed to use defensive force depending on the situation."
The young girl nodded firmly to herself. "Two pure-blood families jointly accused him—it must've been because some of their people were among those five dark wizards!"
"So, why did Headmaster Dumbledore expel him in the first place?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
Hermione immediately fell silent. After a moment, she finally said, "I don't know either…"