A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 318: The Dragon Sanctuary

The next day, the Hogwarts Express left the station, disappearing from Felix's sight.

Standing with Dumbledore, he gazed into the distance, his eyes shimmering with a watery light. "Truly moving... empty minds filled with abundant knowledge, enjoying a splendid holiday."

"Yes, and a backpack full of assignments," Felix said. "Albus, why did you send me to Romania?"

"Because you're not any of the four Heads of House, we need to avoid suspicion. This year's Triwizard Tournament is bigger than ever, with five schools participating," Dumbledore said gently. "It should have been my responsibility, but I've been far too busy—"

"Five schools? Besides Durmstrang, which one?"

"Vague as a doodle, direct from the moonlit mountains of Uagadou—thanks to Ugadou's influence," Dumbledore said. "These past two months have been difficult for him. The Dementor incident damaged his reputation, and parents have been sending letters of condemnation. The newspapers have been relentless in their coverage."

"Didn't you say Ugadou was quite skilled—"

"Intriguing?" Dumbledore smiled. "Have you seen the news about Sirius and Wormtail in the papers? Including Sirius's final message?"

"He did it on purpose?" Felix asked in astonishment, having only seen a small notice about the Dementor incident in the newspapers a long time ago, which didn't really cause much of a stir.

"I believe it was a calculated move... the Dementor incident was something all students witnessed, but few know the full history behind it. To Ugadou, perhaps Sirius's case was more sensitive," Dumbledore said. "An untried hero imprisoned for twelve years, while a traitor enjoys the First Class Order of Merlin and lives comfortably... even though these events didn't occur during his tenure, the public doesn't care much about that. And besides—it involves Voldemort."

Felix nodded, understanding Ugadou's strategy: since the Dementor incident was already out in the open, they would let it be, especially with Umbridge as a scapegoat. But when it came to wrongful convictions, falsehoods, and Voldemort, they had to keep the public in the dark.

"I suppose he's pinning all his hopes on those two events, the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament."

Dumbledore agreed, saying, "Distract from the pallor with splendor—that's Ugadou's specialty. So, he wants to involve more schools, expand his influence. In fact, he extended invitations to ten magical schools, but received few responses."

...

Felix found himself in the midst of a mountain range. This was the Carpathian Mountains, also known as the "Backbone of Romania," and nestled within was the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.

Although dragon reserves existed around the world, the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary was the most unique. Here, the dragons were in a semi-wild state, with over a hundred professionals from around the world working, including dragon tamers, breeders, and dragon research experts.

Here, one could find almost all known species of dragons in the world.

Felix watched as seven or eight wizards surrounded a Romanian Longhorn Dragon. Half of its wing was torn open, bloodied. The dragon tamers were trying to calm it down.

He descended the slope, observing the dragon up close. It had deep green scales and sparkling golden horns, its eyes alert and irritable, stamping its feet anxiously.

"Relax—we mean no harm, you need healing," a wizard yelled. His companions stood watch, wands trained on the dragon, especially after their previous failed attempt. The dragon was probably in no mood for more trouble.

The Longhorn Dragon flapped its half-wounded wing, emitting a few sparks from its nostrils.

"Watch out, it's about to breathe fire—Charlie, use the Stunning Spell!" another wizard shouted.

Charlie, the dragon tamer, yelled, "Wait for the right moment, when its belly is exposed, we'll—now!"

"Stupefy!" they all yelled in unison, Stunning Spells rocketing onto the dragon's thick skin. Its hind legs buckled, wisps of smoke rising from its nostrils. It lowered its head in bewilderment, then slowly collapsed.

"Well done!"

A middle-aged wizard patted Charlie's shoulder, pleased. "I can trust you to lead a team on your own." His companions gathered around. Their skin, rough and weathered from years of outdoor life, had turned a deep shade of brown, bearing the marks of wind and frost.

"He's the one," Felix thought, Charlie Weasley, two years his junior, remarkably talented in Quidditch, once the captain of the Gryffindor team and a Triwizard Cup winner.

But back when Felix was in school, he hadn't cared about Quidditch, so he hadn't recognized him. He couldn't even remember who the Slytherin captain was at the time.

Moreover, Charlie Weasley was quite different from Felix's memory. Although he still had that gentlemanly broad face and the Weasley family's characteristic freckles, his skin hadn't been this dark when they were in school, and his arms hadn't borne the shiny, burn-scarred scars from fire.

Felix stood quietly to the side, startling the others. They had been focused on the dragon, not noticing the sudden appearance of another person.

"Who are you? Don't you know this place is dangerous? And you're standing so close?" The middle-aged wizard frowned, sizing up the young man in front of him. Felix's face was perplexing, making him think he was a reckless fellow driven by excessive curiosity.

Such individuals appeared every year, often fresh out of school, traveling around various places. The dragon sanctuary was an enticing choice for them.

"Felix Harp, the Ancient Runes professor at Hogwarts," Felix said casually, "representing Headmaster Albus Dumbledore to review the alternative tasks for the Triwizard Tournament."

The middle-aged wizard looked at him skeptically. Were professors this young nowadays?

"Captain!" Charlie Weasley stepped forward. "I know him. Let me take care of him."

"He's really a professor?" After receiving confirmation, the captain waved his hand. "Very well, if you're friends, then I'll leave him in your hands. Everyone else, let's cast the Levitation Charm and move the dragon."

Charlie looked earnestly at Felix. "The captain means no harm. He's a good person."

Felix chuckled softly. "Charlie Weasley, I'm curious about what image you have of me."

Charlie didn't reply. What image? Of course, it was the shadow of a generation. As a true Gryffindor, he had found it quite satisfying to watch Felix put Slytherin students in their place during their school days.

This led to Felix having a favorable reputation among the other three houses back then, but his aggressive nature was also acknowledged, causing people to keep their distance out of respect.

"Our camp is over there. I'll take you there," Charlie pointed down the mountain. "By a stream, where the tents are."

Along the way, Charlie introduced him to the surroundings. "The Carpathian Mountains are vast, covering forty percent of this country's land. Besides forests, there are rocky beaches, swamps, and caves..."

"Wouldn't the dragons start forest fires?" Felix asked with interest.

"That's quite rare. They don't rely on breathing fire to hunt. For instance, that Romanian Longhorn Dragon from earlier prefers using its horns to kill prey and then brings it back to the nest on the mountain to roast it with fire," Charlie said. "They only use fire-breathing attacks or intimidation when they encounter agile opponents or during inter-dragon conflicts. And usually, the victor will extinguish the flames afterward."

He said emotionally, "This is their home." Both of them looked up as a silver-blue dragon flew across the sky.

Charlie led Felix to a tent area. It was clear that he had a good rapport with others, as many people greeted him when he arrived, and he responded to each one.

"We need to register here. How long do you plan to stay?" Charlie took out a notebook.

Felix thought for a moment. "Maybe two or three days. I'm quite interested in this place."

Charlie frowned. "I thought it'd be half a day... I need to request permission from the captain. Please wait." He hurried away, and it took a while for him to return, his face marked with confusion. "They've gone out again. In the meantime, I'll show you around the vicinity."

As night fell, on the other side—

Harry, Ron, and Hermione disembarked from the train, walking out of King's Cross Station together. Harry's mood wasn't particularly good; even though he now had a godfather, he still had to return to the Dursleys as requested by Dumbledore, something he couldn't refuse.

It had also been some time since he'd last seen Sirius. If Harry hadn't received a letter on the train, he might have thought Sirius had forgotten he still had a godson.

Mrs. Weasley embraced him warmly and invited him to watch the Quidditch World Cup with them. This improved Harry's mood somewhat, but as they parted ways and he walked alone towards Uncle Vernon, pushing his luggage, his mood turned gloomy again.

Two whole months...

Uncle Vernon greeted him in his usual manner. "What's that?" he roared, staring at the envelope Harry was still clutching. "If it's another form for me to sign, you better—"

"It's not a form," Harry said, his face serious. "It's a letter from my godfather."

"Godfather?" Uncle Vernon spewed, "You don't have a godfather!"

"No, I do," Harry said, his mood magically improving. "He was my mum and dad's best friend, a convicted murderer, but he escaped from Azkaban. This is from him. I can show you the name on the letter..."

Uncle Vernon's face twitched, and his small eyes filled with fear.

Harry continued to enthusiastically weave his tale about Sirius, trying to negotiate some benefits for his long summer break. "…Sirius Black, he's been on TV before. He's still on the run, not caught yet. But he's willing to keep in touch with me to make sure I'm having a fast, fast—"

Harry's eyes widened. Looking past Uncle Vernon, who was as wide as a wall, in a corner of the station, not far from them, was a man dressed in hippie attire, leaning against the wall. The man wore a pointed hat that covered half of his face, with a smile that was more of a smirk.

The man tipped his hat, revealing Sirius Black's radiant smile. "Harry, you're breaking my heart with that," he said.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted with delight.

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