The fruitless trip to Albania's Dark Forest left no sign of defeat on Sagres's face. He continued to calmly handle Hogwarts' affairs, as if he had merely taken a stroll in the forest.
A few days later, as the cold stars of the winter night began to appear over Hogwarts, he quietly left the castle.
Passing through layers of ancient vines and thorns that parted automatically like living creatures, Sagres arrived at the safe house within the Forbidden Forest.
Inside, the house was warm and comfortable, insulated from the cold outside.
A magical fire crackled in the fireplace, emitting the faint popping sound of burning pine resin and spreading warmth along with a subtle fragrance.
Several large, comfortable armchairs surrounded the fireplace. In one of them, Kestrel, wrapped in a thick blanket, was nestled with a steaming cup of hot chocolate.
Her face was still somewhat pale, but her spirits were clearly much better.
Hummingbird sat beside her, speaking with her in low voices.
On the other side of the fireplace, several silent figures sat in the shadows.
Sagres was the last to arrive.
He took the empty armchair, his gaze sweeping over everyone before finally settling on Lumina, and spoke directly.
"Kestrel, how is your recovery? Can you attempt a divination to precisely locate a specific target?"
Lumina set down her hot chocolate, her playful smile fading slightly as a serious expression appeared.
"Location divination? Weren't we discussing interpreting prophecies?"
Sagres shook his head. "I already have a general understanding of the prophecy's content."
"Who is the target you want to divine?"
"Voldemort."
Sagres's voice was calm, yet the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
Lumina frowned, a hint of solemnity and helplessness flashing in her grey eyes. "It's very difficult, extremely difficult. Precisely locating a specific individual, especially a powerful Dark wizard like him, requires extremely strict conditions and mediums."
She explained, "The most effective medium is bloodline. The connection of direct blood relatives is the clearest and most difficult 'beacon' to completely shield. For example, parents locating their children, or children locating their parents. This bond, originating from the essence of life, is the most powerful anchor in prophecy magic."
Sagres listened quietly, showing no disappointment.
"Understood."
He nodded and asked casually, "When is your discharge date?"
Hummingbird immediately answered, "If the subsequent treatment goes smoothly and there are no relapses, she should be discharged in three weeks. But to fully recover, she will need a longer period of recuperation."
"Very good." Sagres's gaze shifted to the other members in the shadows by the fireplace. "Anyone else? Nightingale."
From the shadows came Nightingale's cool voice. "Antidote? None."
She spread her hands, her tone flat. "The composition of that cursed potion is too tricky. Not to mention reverse-engineering an antidote without any clues. But it is truly…"
She changed the subject. "However, I did successfully replicate its brewing process. If anyone needs it, I'll provide it for free."
The air in the safe house seemed to solidify for a moment.
Kestrel's hand, holding the hot chocolate, paused slightly, and Hummingbird's brows subtly furrowed.
"Really?"
Robin's resentful voice rang out. "Then I'd like some."
Her fingers impatiently tapped the leather armrest. "For my dear superior. That idiot has been getting worse lately. Not only does he push all his work onto me, he's also forced his useless nephew, who can't even properly cast a Cleaning Charm, onto me as a supervisor."
Her words were filled with undisguised anger and contempt.
Everyone immediately couldn't help but laugh.
Sagres smiled and turned his gaze in another direction. "Snowy Owl, that Five-legged Monster?"
"Didn't sell it," Snowy Owl replied indifferently. "Either the buyers offered too little, or their backgrounds were too complicated. Not worth the risk of a transaction. But it's fine."
Her voice carried a peculiar sense of ease. "I'll just keep it as part of my private collection. That thing… is quite ornamental."
Her words made the people beside her instinctively shrink their necks.
Thunderbird spoke next. "Regarding that metal wand, no clues yet. However, a wand made from Five-legged Monster hair was successful. I tested many types of wood and finally found that it pairs best with chestnut wood. The boost to curse magic is very significant, and the effect… is quite astonishing."
Finally, Sagres's gaze fell on Stork.
"Any notable developments in the wizarding world recently?"
Stork's voice was steady and clear. "Yes, and it's in Britain."
Sagres raised an eyebrow, signaling him to continue.
"The British Ministry of Magic has been unusually active at the International Confederation of Wizards recently. There are two main focuses. One is next year's Quidditch World Cup, which they are actively trying to host. Fudge wants to boost his prestige with it. The second is…"
He paused, emphasizing his words. "They seem to be strongly pushing to restart the Triwizard Tournament, which has been suspended, and the location is very likely to be Hogwarts."
"Triwizard Tournament?" Hummingbird repeated in a low voice, her tone filled with doubt.
"Fudge probably wants to use a grand international event to divert domestic attention from his incompetent leadership," Sagres said calmly.
Stork nodded. "Many representatives in the International Confederation of Wizards are very interested in this. They believe it can 'promote exchange' and 'showcase the style of the younger generation.'"
"Did he succeed?" Sagres asked.
"Not yet," Stork replied. "Many people agree, but there is also considerable resistance. Still, Fudge has invested massive resources in lobbying this time."
Sagres nodded, then turned his gaze to Swift. "Swift, as far as I know, your father works at the British Ministry of Magic, and I hear he is quite outstanding in his field?"
Swift was stunned to hear this. "That's right. Is there a problem?"
"Interested in going further?" Sagres asked. "Such as… Minister of Magic."
"Ah, this…"
Swift was dazed for a moment, then hesitated. "My father is quite satisfied with his current position. Mainly because he enjoys dealing with Muggle affairs, so…"
"I understand." Sagres nodded. "What about you? Are you interested in developing in this direction?"
"Me?" Swift quickly waved his hand. "I don't like staying in an office all day."
Sagres nodded in understanding. "Alright then. Let me know if you change your mind before I find a suitable candidate."
"Oh, oh, oh! What do you think of me?" Kestrel leaned forward, her face full of hope.
"Clearly not suitable," Sagres replied bluntly.
…
The atmosphere of the gathering gradually shifted to exchanging intelligence and briefly analyzing the current situation.
Just as it was nearing its end and everyone was preparing to disperse, a slightly hesitant voice came from the shadowy corner near the fireplace.
"Noble… Mr. Greengrass?"
Sagres looked in the direction of the voice and saw the house-elf Dobby nervously wringing his old pillowcase, his eyes filled with anticipation and the fear of being rejected.
"Dobby?" Sagres looked at him.
Dobby bravely shuffled a small step forward, his ears trembling slightly with nervousness. "Dobby… Dobby is very good here, very safe, but… but Dobby is too idle! Dobby wants to work. Wants to work for the great Mr. Greengrass! Dobby doesn't want to eat free meals!"
He drooped his ears. "Please… please, Mr. Greengrass, do you have any work Dobby can do? Dobby is very diligent. Extremely diligent."
Sagres looked at the house-elf eager to prove his worth, a faint, almost imperceptible glimmer flashing in his grey eyes.
He remained silent for a few seconds. "I can grant you freedom now. You no longer need to bind yourself to a specific 'master' or location. You can go anywhere you want and do anything you wish."
Dobby's large eyes instantly filled with confusion. "Freedom? Go… go anywhere? But… but Dobby doesn't know where to go. Dobby just wants… just wants a place where he can be helpful…"
Sagres looked at him and said slowly, "Then find a job to support yourself for now. Don't worry. I will find you when I need help."
Dobby nodded, half-understanding, though still a little disappointed.
His big eyes darted around with cautious anticipation. "Then… then Mr. Greengrass, can Dobby… can Dobby go work in the Hogwarts kitchens? Dobby heard there are many house-elf friends there. Dobby likes to cook. Likes to take care of the young wizards. Dobby promises to work hard and not disgrace Mr. Greengrass."
He looked at Sagres nervously, afraid of being refused.
Sagres barely hesitated and nodded slightly. "You may. The Hogwarts kitchens welcome any diligent, kind house-elf. I will inform Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Oh! Merciful, great Mr. Greengrass!"
Dobby instantly burst into joy, jumping excitedly. "Dobby thanks you! Dobby will go now! Dobby will definitely become the best house-elf in the Hogwarts kitchens!"
He spun around several times, then bowed deeply. With a soft pop, he Apparated away impatiently, presumably heading straight for the Hogwarts kitchens.
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