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Morning light filtered through the stained-glass windows onto the stone corridor. Sagres, having just left the library, ran straight into a pale-faced Lockhart.
Dark circles hung heavily under Lockhart's eyes, and his meticulously styled curls had lost their luster. He looked like an escapee fresh out of Azkaban.
As they passed each other, Lockhart cast a cold glance.
Sagres scoffed inwardly—could he not handle even this much? He still had an entire warehouse of "teaching plans" he had yet to use.
If the man truly didn't know what was good for him and tried something, then Sagres would shatter the hypocritical mask of this "legendary wizard" so thoroughly it could never be pieced back together.
Arriving at the classroom with his textbook, the sight that greeted him made him raise an eyebrow. The aftershocks of the Duelling Club were clearly still spreading—nearly twice the usual number of students had turned up as observers.
Swish!
Sagres silently walked to the podium, tapped his wand lightly, and several beams of differently coloured light shot from its tip, rebounding toward him from various tricky angles after striking the walls.
He did not move his feet. His wrist shifted subtly, almost too fast for the eye to follow, as several near-invisible Obstacle Curses formed precisely at different points in front of him, vanishing the instant they appeared.
The beams struck the barriers, either ricocheting away or vanishing completely, each impact followed by a crisp shattering sound.
The students' eyes widened at once, and the newcomers instantly felt their trip had been well worth it.
When the light beams stopped, Sagres finally spoke, his voice calm yet carrying a piercing clarity. "Do you see? The Obstacle Curse is not a clumsy shield. It is an extension of your will. Used flexibly, the 'obstacle' can come alive, becoming your weapon."
As he spoke, he gave a gentle wave, and all the information about the Obstacle Curse appeared in the air.
"The Obstacle Curse is not a uniform 'wall.' Its magical structure is malleable—the center can be thickened to defend against strong attacks, and the edges can be made more 'viscous' to deflect or delay spells."
A translucent, jelly-like barrier in the air continuously shifted shape, finally stretching into a net that nearly covered the entire classroom. He motioned for the students to touch it and feel the strength of the magical barrier.
"Where your will is, the barrier is. Think 'block in front,' and it will clumsily stand in front. Think 'protect right shoulder,' and it can instantly condense at your right shoulder. Think 'deflect that red light,' and it will do so."
Guided by his will, the large net split into small barriers, rapidly shifting to different sides of each student's body.
"Shrink its structure, increase its speed, and it becomes a weapon."
The tiny barriers suddenly hardened, striking the Young Wizards' foreheads at extreme speed. It felt as though they had been hit by a transparent block of rubber, leaving them dizzy.
"Extend its structure, reduce its speed, and it can slow your opponent's movements."
As he spoke, the barrier softened and loosened again, enveloping the students' palms. The Young Wizards immediately found it difficult to either clench their fists or open their hands.
Woosh!
Then he waved his wand again, and a thick beam of spell light immediately shot toward the students.
Before they could react, all the magical barriers suddenly merged into a single entity, curving into a precise shape that bounced the spell light back intact.
He then conjured another small, angled barrier beside him, completely blocking the rebounded spell.
Boom~! The powerful impact even made him slide sideways a step with effortless grace.
"See? This is called waste utilization—the opponent's magic saves you the effort of moving."
As he spoke, he slowly lowered his wand, and all the Obstacle Curses vanished.
"As you can see, it can also help you deflect attacks, but this requires a certain level of proficiency. Otherwise, it will turn into a failed potion—random direction, unpredictable effect."
The students immediately covered their mouths, laughing at the comparison.
Amid the laughter, Sagres continued breaking down every detail of the spell—from the angle of wrist movement to the instant burst of magic.
After lecturing for two hours straight, his throat felt as dry as if it had been licked by a salamander, and even the students' eyes were bloodshot.
But spells could not be learned by listening alone; theory ultimately had to be tempered through thousands of practical battles.
"Alright, everyone…" Sagres finally clapped his hands. "The next class will be a practical lesson, so you have one task before then—successfully cast the Obstacle Curse. This is the bottom line. I have told you everything that needs to be taught; the rest is a matter of repetitive practice…"
With that, he motioned for the students to leave and walked out of the classroom without looking back.
Passing through the Great Hall, Sagres habitually glanced at the magical mirror—it remained as calm as ever.
However, just around the corner leading to the library, a piercing scream mixed with strange cheers suddenly rang out.
"Ha! Run away!"
"Hm?" Sagres's eyes narrowed. His wand slid instantly into his palm, and his body tensed like a leopard. He held his breath, his sharp gaze sweeping over the shadows cast by the pillars—no cold scales of a Basilisk, only…
That distinctive pair of knickerbockers, and that horrible, rusty voice.
He quietly leaned out to look.
There was Peeves, absent for many days, hanging upside down from a huge crystal chandelier, proudly waving his two filthy hands.
Balls of mud, reeking like a sewer, were being hurled with precision at the scurrying students below. Their screams echoed through the corridor, punctuated by Peeves's cheers and laughter.
"Ten points!"
"Ha! Another ten points!"
"Terrible dodging! You're penalized—dodge again!"
Peeves cackled as a Gryffindor was splattered with mud, then spun around excitedly on the chandelier.
"Yes, yes, yes! Just like that! Haha!"
A cold sneer curled Sagres's lips.
"Chaos Tempesta!"
The wand silently sliced through the air, and a gray miniature whirlwind appeared out of nowhere. Like a precise animal trap, it instantly wrapped the troublemaker on the chandelier tightly.
Peeves's cackling stopped abruptly, replaced by terrified screams.
His figure became a blurred gray shadow within the rapidly spinning storm, like a top gone mad, his hat nearly flying off.
"Waaah—let me down!"
The students who had been screaming and fleeing immediately froze, staring in disbelief at the unprecedented sight—the lawless Peeves, trapped like a goblin in a cage.
After a brief silence, thunderous cheers and applause erupted through the corridor, and several students splattered with mud stomped their feet in excitement.
Such a scene was rare—in fact, it was the first time it had ever been seen.
After all, Peeves feared no one but the Bloody Baron, and even Sagres had been helpless against him during his first two years at Hogwarts.
But he was no longer the naive student he had once been. Years of research had revealed the key: Peeves was the embodiment of the castle's chaos, and dealing with him required creating an equal degree of chaotic magic to briefly suppress this persistent nuisance.
Although the method was complicated and couldn't completely eradicate him, making him suffer a little was no problem.
Sagres calmly pulled a thick magical crystal bottle from the inner pocket of his robe, aiming the mouth at the still wildly spinning storm.
With a light tap of his wand, the storm—along with the dizzy Peeves inside—was sucked in with a whoosh, like a wisp of dense smoke.
Thud! Peeves's face smacked against the smooth wall of the bottle, producing a dull sound.
"Looks like you need to calm down." Sagres flexed his finger and lightly flicked the crystal bottle.
"Ah—mercy! Professor! Great Professor! I'll even call you Headmaster! Let me out!"
Sagres gave the bottle a shake, and the screams inside instantly shot up eight octaves, echoing tearfully through the corridor.
This was a "hostage" he intended to "escort" to Myrtle's bathroom—to see if the weeping ghost might reveal any valuable clues about the Chamber of Secrets.